Disclaimer: I own nothing – except, of course, for my OCs. And the things in my home…Actually, my parents own most of that. Well, you get the idea.
FREEDOM!!
Ahem. Right. On to the reviewer responses:
Melui: Thank you!
Sirnonenath: Thank you! .You're one of my favourite reviewers; your advice is very helpful (for which I am extremely grateful), and you show that you truly read and thought about the story. Gaelrian should make her first appearance in the next chapter, and will continue to show up throughout the story. I'm glad you liked the beginning with Thranduil, as well as Dinnulín's confrontation with the man. I worked hard on the latter, and I am glad you were able to feel the emotion. I'm very happy that you like Dinnulín so much, and thank you for the compliment. I thought it would be interesting to see how Legolas felt after he killed for the first time, because whether it was a good man or evil, I think it would still have had a powerful effect on him, as it would on anyone else. I'm glad you liked it and that it made you think about it and relate to the story. About the blood on the hands thing – don't worry about it. I laughed when I read that part because my beta reader asked me the same thing! Yes, I was speaking (er, writing) metaphorically, . I'm sorry for confusing you, but thanks for asking; this way, if anyone else had trouble, they'll know now what I meant. If you really want to be confused, try taking a poetry class – nothing means what you think Oo. Thanks for wishing me luck in school, I really appreciated it. Actually, though I did stress myself out quite a bit, I wasn't as bad as last semester, and I did very well on the overall semester. Good job on your pre-calculus exam; I've heard that that is a hard class. Thanks again for the wonderful review!
Farflung: Thank you! lol, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope the girl you were tutoring gets a good grade – I know how stressful (and hard) learning other languages can be. Of course Dinnulín would fight back; I wouldn't have it any other way. And yes, the man deserved what he got. I like angst too, and thanks again for the review!
Bedazzled17: Thank you! I'm so glad you're reading my stories.
Echo Despise: Thank you. I'm glad you liked it when Legolas took up the bow. I'm glad I surprised you with Dinnulín and the man, but yes, you are evil. To tell you the truth, I'm a little afraid for my characters . I'm glad you like the way I wrote the chapter; thank you for the compliment! And I'm so glad I finally got to meet you. You know, I still don't remember you being in my gym class (My brain must have been on vacation!).
And now, on to the story (Note: there are a few important notes at the end of the chapter that should help to explain a few things that may or may not have been confusing).
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Chapter Seven: The Search Begins
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The muffled thumping of feet upon wood drifted into his mind. All around him, Legolas could hear the faint blow of the wind, the rustling of trees as they spoke to one another, and the cries of his friends. But it all seemed so far away – all but one sound, a voice that thundered mercilessly in his ears with his every ragged breath.
Murderer.
His heart clenched at the sight of the crimson liquid that stained his once-pure hands. Jamming his eyes shut, he shook his head violently, wishing for the sight to vanish. He opened his eyes, slowly and carefully, and looked at his hands again. They were white. There was no blood. But why did his heart continue to pound in his chest? Why did he still feel so dirty?
Legolas' entire body was shaking now, and he did not feel he could remain standing much longer. He had killed that man. Because of Legolas, a life had been stolen from the living world, never to be seen again. What if he had had a family? Sons and daughters and a wife who were in need of his strong hands and could not survive without him – if this was so, then Legolas had not killed just one Man, but several…
A soft noise escaped his lips, and he found that he could not breathe. Looking up, he saw his friends kneeling on the bridge, all of them encircling a tiny elfling, who sobbed mightily in her brother's arms. Faelon was weeping too. Legolas watched the tears streaming down his face; saw Roccondil, pale as a wraith and crying softly, reaching forward with one hand to grasp his friend's shoulder, keeping the other on the sobbing Dinnulín's back; Lothwen, too, was fighting back her tears. But she was too proud, Legolas knew, to ever let them fall. Instead, she softly stroked Dinnulín's raven head, her lips moving slightly as she whispered comforts to her. Slowly, her head turned, and Legolas' eyes locked on to hers. He felt his heart clench, and his head swim – now they would all know him for what he was, a murderer. But still he remained standing and did not move. Lothwen, however, rose to her feet and made her way to him.
"Legolas?" Her voice was soft as she reached for his shoulder. But, just as her fingers brushed the fabric of Legolas' tunic, her foot grazed something on the ground and she stopped, curious, to bend down. When she rose again, the fallen bow was clasped tightly in her hand and her eyes were dark, "You had to do it, Legolas, you had no choice – that beast would have killed her!"
A harsh cry rent the air, and the maiden started and looked up; a large black crow was circling ominously above them. The sight brought a cool sense of fear that sent shivers up her spine, and Lothwen reached out and took the prince's shaking hand as she moved to run back towards the bridge, "Legolas! We cannot stay here!" But her arm pulled taught and her shoulder jarred as she was pulled backwards. Legolas had not moved. Lothwen's face paled at the feel of his trembling and, startled by it, she pulled roughly on his arm, sending him stumbling forward. "We don't have time for this, Legolas! What if there are more of those men?!"
Legolas gasped as he was torn violently from his daze and he struggled to right his footing. Quickly, his mind took in his surroundings and the angered girl who still held tightly to his arm; with a sharp click, he realized what had happened, and ashamed, he met Lothwen's eyes in a silent apology. Her hard gaze softened, but it did not last, for seconds later she was pulling him down the hill once more.
It was not long before they joined the three elves on the bridge, and Legolas felt as though his heart would stop as he looked with shock and disgust upon the growing pool of blood beneath the dead man's head. A strange mix of emotions began to swell in the pit of his stomach and heart, but before he could recognize them, he was pulled into a fierce embrace.
"Thank you, Legolas," Faelon said through a strong grip that Legolas did not know he had. Clutching to both elves and still sobbing was Dinnulín.
"Come, you three," Lothwen said nervously, "we should get Dinnu out of here."
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Malithil wept silently in Istion's arms as Gwinfalas told them of their missing elflings.
"Ai, Istion! They will never survive on their own – Dinnulín is much too young, and Faelon…"
"Faelon is smart, my love," Istion said as he held her closer, "and he is with Legolas. They will keep each other safe."
"Please do not fear for them, Malithil" Gwinfalas said. "The king, Ethirion, and Mírolind will find them. They set out –"
"I will go with them," Istion stepped forward.
His wife clasped his hand and followed, determination mixing with the worry in her eyes, "As will I."
"No," Gwinfalas said and rested her hand on Malithil's shoulder. "The king wishes you to remain in Mirkwood; if they are to reach the children by tomorrow night, their numbers must remain small." Then, at the hesitant looks in the elves' eyes, she added, "Lord Thranduil and Ethirion are fine warriors, and Mírolind can heal the elflings if they are wounded – I promise you, Faelon and Dinnulín will be in capable hands."
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Ethirion moved swiftly through his chambers, putting a fresh pair of leggings and a tunic, along with various supplies, into a tan deerskin sack. He still had to collect foodstuffs from the kitchens, and he did not want to keep his father waiting – Thranduil's temper was running short, and the prince did not wish to be the target of his swiftly growing ire.
Hastily, Ethirion stuffed the last of his supplies messily into the sack and, with a final scanning of his chambers, left the room. Sprinting through the halls, he made his way to kitchens, but stopped suddenly when another elf rounded the corner. 'Dínendír?'
"Caun nín," the elf said when he recognized the prince. "I just returned from your chambers – Gwinfalas said the elflings have disappeared?"
"We found the remains of their merrymaking by the river," Ethirion said hastily, "we fear they have left the forest."
"Ai!" Dínendír cried, and Ethirion was surprised by the stricken look on the normally stoic elf's face. "I fear this is all my fault!"
"Why? What do you mean?" Ethirion's pulse leaped in disbelief. 'Surely Dínendír would never put the elflings in danger…'
"Faelon asked me for sweat tea from the kitchens."
"…I don't understand."
"He said it was for 'a most secret reason' and would not tell me more…"
"It was for the party, but we found no tea – Dínendír, forgive me, but I do not have time for this. Tell me what it is you mean, or I will have to leave you here; the longer I remain in this hallway, the further downriver my brother gets!"
"Forgive me, caun nín," Dínendír said, schooling his features to calmness. "Gwinfalas said the elflings were intoxicated, and that remnants of a potent wine had been found in their goblets…I fear that was my fault…"
"You gave elflings one of the most potent wines in –!"
"Nay!" The elf interrupted quickly. "I went to the kitchens and asked Galion to prepare sweet tea for Faelon, but he had had wine out at the time, and I think he inadvertently left that for Faelon instead."
"Ai, Valar," Ethirion moaned, raising his eyes to the heavens, "why do you hate me so? Adar is going to go on a rampage – there'll be no stopping him…" He lowered his eyes and they became distant, as though he were gazing at something far off. "We mustn't tell him. Not yet, at least…mayhap when he has drunken too much Dorwinion." Ethirion looked up and grasped the other elf's shoulder. "You have my thanks, Dínendír, but I must go: I have to pack food from the kitchens – and yell at our drunkard butler."
"Wait, caun nín," Dínendír touched Ethirion's elbow as he turned to walk away.
"I wish to go with you."
"I am sorry," he began the speech his father had instructed him to say should anyone ask to join the search, "but the king wishes to keep our numbers small –"
"Please, Ethirion," Dínendír took the prince's hand. "I ask you, as a fellow elf who cares deeply for the lost elflings, to grant me this one request. I have never asked anything of you – I could not forgive myself if anything should happen to Dinnulín and the others…"
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The mid-morning sun shone brightly as the four elves walked slowly through the streets of Lake Town. The eyes of many villagers followed them as they went, and Legolas held Dinnulín closer to his body in an attempt comfort her as much as himself. He was used to being watched by others – especially the young maidens in Mirkwood – but they had never made him feel so anxious and uncomfortable; he feared that the humans all knew what he had done, and he swallowed roughly around the lump in his throat.
He raised his eyes from the dirt road and watched Lothwen as she led the group through throngs of people and laughing children. She held her head high and glared at anyone who stared too long, but Legolas could tell she was bothered by the looks as she was walking stiffly, keeping her shoulders squared and her arms by her sides. On his left walked Faelon, who kept his eyes glued to his feet, occasionally raising them to check on his sister. His hands nervously twisted the fabric of his tunic. On Legolas' right was Roccondil, who did not seem at all bothered by the stares, but rather was craning his neck to see as much of the town as possible.
There seemed to be a great deal of activity in the streets and houses, and many children ran past the small group of elves, shouting and laughing as they chased each other. Wooden carts filled with fabrics, breads, fish, and other such goods became steadily more frequent as Lothwen led them further into the town, and small groups of people could often be seen trading and haggling with each other. Jovial, bubbling music could be heard wafting over the loud chattering of the villagers. Not used to such noise, Legolas' ears began to ache, but he ignored it. If anything, he felt he deserved the discomfort.
Suddenly, a harsh cry rent the air and the elves started and turned around. Soon a large number of people were rushing toward the entrance of the town, and the murmurings of "murder" could be heard as the news spread. Legolas felt the blood drain from his face and he looked to Lothwen, who nodded and quickly pulled Faelon into the alley between two old houses. Legolas and Roccondil followed, and when all of the elves were hidden safely in the shadows, Lothwen spoke.
"We have to get out of here!"
"But where are we going to go?" Faelon said nervously. "We cannot go back the way we came – it'll look too suspicious; they will know!"
Legolas hung his head. "I'll go back – I'll tell them it was me. You all should not have to pay for –"
"Do not be stupid, Legolas!" Roccondil snapped. "You know as well as I do that it wasn't your fault. You did what you had to do."
"Exactly," Lothwen said. "If you go back, we all go. And I am not about to have myself – and especially not you – thrown in a dungeon for what that beast did to Dinnulín."
"But how are we going to get out of here? I don't see any other way…"
"Maybe someone can help us?" Roccondil said hopefully as he looked to the entrance of the alley.
"Are you mad?!" Lothwen stared at him incredulously. "That is the last thing we want to do!"
"It could work! Give me a chance – you never let me plan anything –"
"Well, I wonder why!"
"—So how can I ever prove myself?" Roccondil finished in a huff, as though he had never been interrupted.
"What did you plan on doing, then?"
"Well, I can go out and look for someone who will give us passage home. We may even be able to buy a horse or boat?" Roccondil looked hopefully to Legolas.
"I have had enough of boats."
"As have I," Lothwen said, then added "And we do not have any gold."
"Oh," Roccondil seemed deflated. "I forgot about that."
The group fell silent for a time, and Legolas watched the entrance of the alleyway warily. Slowly, he lowered himself to ground, being careful not to jar Dinnulín, and sat with his back against the wall of one of the houses. The rest soon followed, and they all sat, hidden in the shadows, as the people of the village moved past, heading toward the bridge and the murdered man.
They could not stay here, Legolas knew, but he was too worn to think of an escape plan, and he found it hard to concentrate on anything except for what he had done – the thing that had gotten them into this situation. He looked down at Dinnulín and noticed that she seemed to be calming; her eyes were hooded, and her breathing was becoming slower and more regular. She would sleep soon, and judging by her expression and her battered body, she would sleep with closed eyes.
"I still think that I should look for help," Roccondil said quietly. "What have we got to lose? We cannot sit here all day – maybe one of the villagers will not notice that we are elves, and think that we were born here. Then they would help us!"
"I doubt that they would not notice, Roccondil," Lothwen said as she ran a hand over her ear.
"Maybe," Faelon said hesitantly, "maybe he should still try." He looked to his sister, and then Legolas. "I'm worried for Dinnu. She is hurt and terrified; it would be best to get her home as soon as possible…"
"I agree," Legolas said. "But I think I should be the one to go – I don't want anything to happen to you three, and it is my fault that we are in this mess to begin with." He shifted, moving Dinnulín from his lap as he attempted to rise, but the young girl clutched tightly at his tunic, and a panicked look came to her eyes.
"She does not want you to go," Faelon said as he stroked her head. "She feels safe with you, Legolas – you were the one who rescued her."
"Then it is settled," Roccondil rose importantly, "since I am the strongest, stealthiest, and smartest one left, I will go to find help." Then he turned and walked out of the alley before anyone could argue, and disappeared around the corner, moving in the opposite direction of the villagers.
"That is his opinion," mumbled Lothwen as she stretched out her legs. Then she sighed morosely and, like Legolas and Faelon, turned to watch the entrance of the alley in silence.
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The horses were restless, stamping and snorting in their stalls as Thranduil and Mírolind waited for Ethirion; they had prepared their own horses, and, when the prince had not arrived, moved on to his. And so, when Ethirion at last arrived, with Dínendír close behind, the suppressed rage in the palace stables was palpable.
"I am sorry for being so late," he said sheepishly, "but Galion was in a stupor, and it was most difficult to prepare the food, as –"
"Be quiet Ethirion," Thranduil glared, "we are already behind." He began to exit the stables but stopped when he saw Dínendír.
"I want to join the search, Aran nín," Dínendír said, bowing.
The king sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to remain calm; it would not do to lose his temper now, as it would only waste more time. "No," he said with forced calm.
Dínendír looked to Ethirion, who moved forward, placed his hand on the king's shoulder, and spoke quickly and quietly. As they spoke, Mírolind, too, moved forward and joined the debate. Dínendír watched nervously, but his expression betrayed none of his thoughts or emotions.
Mírolind met his eyes, and at first she seemed angry, but this was not unusual; she was known, like her father, for her fierce temper. But soon after, she raised her eyes again, and Dínendír smiled inside at the new softness in their depths – it seemed now that he had both of the king's children on his side. He was glad of the support, for Ethirion was known for his skills of persuasion, and Mírolind, though often kind and gentle, rarely took no for an answer.
The three elves spoke for a few moments more, when Thranduil turned at last to address Dínendír. "I have decided that you may accompany us," he moved to lead his horse from the stables, but stopped at the open wooden doors and looked back. "Your skills may indeed be needed," he paused and looked at his son. "You two have five minutes." And with that, he turned and left the stables, closely followed by Mírolind, who led out her own grey horse.
Quickly, Ethirion moved to help Dínendír prepare his horse, and smiled when he was asked, "What did you say to him? Lord Thranduil is not one to change his mind."
"I told him what you said earlier – how you blamed yourself for what happened – and that I feared for your health were we to leave without you," Ethirion opened one of the stalls, and Dínendír called out his horse. "Then Mírolind had a change of heart, and argued that your skills may indeed be needed, and that you would give us an extra horse on which to carry the elflings." Ethirion moved to his own horse, and, after draping his pack across the animal, he continued, "And though my father seemed to see the logic of our argument, I fear he may change his mind if we do not hasten."
Dínendír nodded and followed Ethirion to the stable doors, but before they could move out into the night, he turned, placing his hand on the price's shoulder.
"Le hannon, mellon nín."
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"Caun nín," – My prince.
"Valar" – I'm sure most of you know this, but just in case, I'll give you a simplified explanation of what a Vala (Valar is plural) is. They are the "Powers of Arda" (i.e. Middle-earth) and, with the Maiar, they made the World. I suppose you could say they are gods, and they include, among others, Manwë and, my personal favourite, Varda; she's the queen of the Valar, also known as Elbereth, and is the one who made the stars, and is therefore responsible for the creation of elves. And so, she is said to be the Vala most worshipped by elves, which can be seen when, in the books, her name is sometimes called out in battle. (They also made Valinor, which is where elves go when they sail out of Middle-earth). I hope I didn't bore you with that – I tend to ramble.
"Aran nín" – My king.
"Le hannon, mellon nín." – I thank you, my friend.
Important notes:
Throughout the story, unless I indicate otherwise, when the focus turns to Thranduil and company, it is always a few hours before the events that occurred with Legolas and his group. I thought it would be a bit redundant to keep writing "Earlier…" before every scene, so just keep this in mind as you read.
Secondly, in the last chapter, when I said that Legolas had blood on his hands, I was speaking metaphorically – he didn't actually have blood on him. Sorry for the confusion
Lastly, I'm afraid I must have partaken in some of that wine myself…Did anyone else notice that Dinnulín called the man "Híril nín" (My Lady)? Not only that, but in the translations, I put "Hír nín" and "Híril nín" both as "My Lady." Oops. Anyway, I've noticed quite a few of these inexcusably stupid errors, so I'm going to go through my chapters for a quick, much-needed editing. Also, I will renumber the chapters to avoid confusion (as you can see by the number assigned to this chapter); this way, they will match the number fanfiction.net gives them. This will be done tomorrow, so if it says I have updated, I haven't.
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Well, I'm finally finished. I want to apologise for the very long delay, but school was a hassle and one of the teachers actually gave me an essay due after the semester was over. Very odd. So that, and the fact that I just plain slacked off once summer vacation started, is why the chapter was a little later than I expected.
On another note, due to registration difficulties (scowls at sadistic little registrar's office minions) I now have to take a summer course from 6:30 pm to nine, twice a week. However, I really don't think it should be too much of a problem, but I thought I should warn you just in case I pass out from exhaustion on the subway and go missing. . Oh well.
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Thank you for being patient and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please review!
Ethelewen