Author's Notes: Whoops. Been a while since my last update. No, I don't do it to torture you, I do it cause I do have a life -- lol -- that requires some attention, and my last chapter I meant to post was eaten by a virus. (I swear, it was like JUST WRITTEN and the computer shut down. Coincidence? I think not.) But yeah anyway, in the case that happens again -- and you're just DYING to read the next installment, which I know you all are, there is an easier solution then hunting me down on FictionPress.Com lol. Email me! My email is in my bio, but in case you're in a particularly lazy mood, here it is again: baby_blu_012@yahoo.com
Save it, memorize it, whatever. L0L, But I'll get the message faster that way and it saves us all the annoyance of reviewing for other stories on other sites lol. I don't mind, lol, I just don't want you to have to go out of your way. Okay. Without further interuptance..
---------------
Seasa crumpled into an ungraceful heap, her eyes trained on the delicate marble floor. She dare not move, and dragged her feet under her, her body unconsciously drawing itself into a ball -- the smallest possible target. She warily let her eyes wander, pausing to bitterly admire the gleaming stone floors. Behind her, she could hear the muffled shuffling of the guards; daring a peek, she could just see the tips of the soft leather boots of Astalder and Legolas. Whispers sighed through the whole of Thranduil's Hall, and Seasa drew a carefully rationed breath.
This was it.
Dragged through the wilderness, the last few days had seemed like a blur. She could remember waiting -- thinking -- her thighs aching with the pressure of constant horseback riding, but other then that, the journey had been uneventful. Unfortunately uneventful.
Any delay, any hindrance to their arrival back in Mirkwood's palace would have been welcome. She would have even gladly received Sindatil's return, though she was secretly glad the Mirkwood Guard had been weakened. But there had never been any news from the four riders left behind. Their instructions were to remain for a week, sending a pair of elves further into the forest each day. If, by the seventh day, there was no sign of either elf nor beast, they were to return home.
The Guard had heard Legolas give these instructions with a heavy heart. They knew it was right - the whole Guard could not risk it's survival by teasing fate and creeping so close to Dul-Guldur that they could almost smell it. If there was no sign of life after a week, they would be forced to accept it. There was no life left.
With these cheerful thoughts pressing in on their hearts, the journey homeward was a silent one. Not even Astalder had broken the consistent mute shadow that had fallen upon the group, and though Seasa yearned for conversation -- anything to distract her from her thoughts -- she was too proud to initiate conversation with anyone.
The only real saving grace, Seasa though wryly as she pressed her forehead to the cool floor, realizing that it looked as though she were cowering when in reality she was only thinking, was the fact that she had been allowed to ride with Astalder instead of Legolas. In fact, the Prince hadn't so much looked at her since the night in the flet when she could feel his eyes on her -- but this past journey, not so much as a glance. It was suspicious, Seasa knew, and made her wary.
She slowly unclenched her fists, noticing with dull amazement that her knuckles were white with fear. It was as if she was looking at this whole ordeal through another person's eyes; she could almost see herself shaking, see her body crouched upon the floor. She knew the Guard was assembled silently behind her; she knew they were awaiting their dismissal. Her robes were torn, and ragged and her hair -- though beautiful still, thanks to her Elven blood -- was a tangled mess of leaves and twigs. Dried blood crusted on her nails, and with a cringe she realized whose blood it was as she heard him take a step forward. His feet drew even with her bowed head now, and she heard the sharp tap of footsteps on the marble floor.
She dared a peek upwards from where Legolas had crudely dumped her and drew a startled breath.
Thranduil, King of Mirkwood stood not two feet in front of her, and she could feel a wave of fear rise in her throat, unsettling her stomach. She choked on her own breath as color fled her face.
Thranduil sent her an uninterested glance, but his eyes lingered in her fearfully wide jade eyes. They brushed across her bloodstained fingers, taking in her torn robe as she froze. He could almost smell her fear, it was so tangible, but he dragged his glare away from her and let it settle on his only son.
Thranduil hid a sigh. He was glad to see Legolas had returned safety, but from the stiff frown pressed in his face and the dead look in his eye, he could see his son had returned with bad news -- No, Thranduil corrected, More bad news. Lately, that was the only type of news the King received. Spies are embedded in my court, spiders have threatened yet another village, Dol-Guldur is growing in strength.. Thranduil sighed as he went through his mental checklist of horrific news that had reached him this week. If only things were different, if only elves had more allies in the world --
Legolas's slight cough cut him off from his day dream, and Thranduil's eyes snapped to his son's. He took in the long, thin scratches on his son's handsome face, and with a look of dawning comprehension, his eyes darted again to the dried blood on the terrified she-elf's hands. He frowned.
"Prince Legolas," he said, his voice firm but tired. "Your return brings gladness to my heart in this time of gloom. What news have you brought from the outer regions of the forests?" It had been four long months since he had last seen his son -- it would have been shorter, but his son was called away to deal with news of a...
Spy.
Thranduil's eyes shot down to the crumpled girl at his feet, the scars on Legolas's face, and back to the girl again. His brow furrowed and he took another slight step closer to his son and the girl. The girl recoiled. Legolas didn't flinch and Thranduil sighed. Things To Do, he mused inwardly. Catch spy. Check
"Dul-Guldor is growing stronger my lord, as you well know. Patches of Orcs are growing bolder and this segment of the Guard was recently attacked. Captain Sindatil and his men were sent ahead of the Orcs, closer to Dul-Guldor to make certain the Orcs were destroyed, but they hadn't returned by the hour it came for us to leave." Legolas's eyes moved to the dozens of civilian elves lined in the Hall, watching and listening to the official report and he dropped his voice. "The darkness is quicking, father. Never before have Orcs been so bold as to come so close to the Halls and attack the Guard."
"Are there any serious injuries?" Thranduil asked with a sigh, taking dull note of how Legolas managed to avoid mentioning the captive cowering at their feet. Many of the Mirkwood's elves were gathered in the Halls, waiting for the official report and their minds, Thranduil could feel, rested heavily on this frightened girl. The thoughts of his people soon rose into words, and the Guard stiffened as the words, "She's a spy!" suddenly filtered through the hall, voiced by a foolish bystander. Legolas stoutly ignored the onlookers, but Seasa had heard and her whole body had begun to shake. Her eyes shut tightly, the faintest wisps of tears leaking out of them as she wrapped her arms around herself, waiting for Legolas to get to the part of the report about her and have her sentence -- death -- fall.
Legolas shook his head. "No, your majesty. No serious injuries to report of."
Thranduil nodded heavily, broaching the topic everyone was curious about. "And what of this girl? Has she been taken captive? What is her crime?"
Legolas paused and the Guard shuffled with nerves. Many of them were impartial towards Seasa, but they knew her many charges and the many penalties awaiting her, and their hearts were saddened by such a waste of life. The civilian elves lined upon the walls, official members of Thranduil's court dressed in dark olives and forest greens, their light hair highlighted by the streak of sunlight dashing through the hall, pressed closer. Treachery, to them, was the most dangerous kind of evil -- other dangers they could at least identify. But if one of their own had turned towards darkness..and tried to take everyone with them..
Legolas's hand slipped into his pocket, his fingers wrapped around the glowing star charm. It glowed warm in his hand, and Legolas resisted the urge to shut his eyes and wish himself away from this scene. "We found her wandering in the forest a few days before we were to set home. We were on the lookout for spies, and naturally we took her into custody and questioned her. She claimed to merely be a wayward traveler, but something.." Legolas paused. "Something wasn't quite right, sir. We decided to bring her back to the Palace with us, but she escaped soon after her capture--"
"Escaped?" Thranduil echoed, surprise in his strong face. "How?"
Legolas's jaw tensed. "By telling us she had spotted a lhug, your highness. When we went to investigate, she slipped off."
"Why wasn't someone watching her while others searched for the unfortunate beast?" Thranduil questioned, but his mouth twitched. Seasa dared another glance upward, figuring if they were talking about her, she had a right to know. She slowly unfurled herself from the tight ball she had been in, and her eyes lit upon the majesty of the halls. Though Mirkwood's Palace was indeed built inside of several overwhelmingly large caves, bright windows had been scratched into the rocks and brightly dressed couriers added sparkle to the hall. High, delicate ceilings were backed with strong wood beams, many having different decorations etched into the wood as they braced the marble ceiling. The main hall was overwhelmingly large, and towards the far end, Seasa could just make out among the cluster of curious elves, Thranduil's throne. Different passageways led off from the main Hall, probably to personal chambers of the Royal Family and their servants. Another large, well lit corridor led to the Feasting Halls, Seasa knew, and several other dim passageways had signs that told their destinations were the stables.
Seasa sat back on her heels, unnoticed by the Prince and King, and her eyes widened. The resemblance between father and son was striking -- Legolas's eyes were a stormier shade of blue, and Thranduil's hair a deeper golden, but the high cheekbones, narrow face and strong forehead marked them clearly as closely related nobles. Thranduil was dressed in all his royal splendor, of course, in a light gray tunic with a circlet of golden leaves gracing his blonde locks. The King, graced with immortality, still held the body of a young one in his prime, but there was something in his eyes -- something deeper, something that spoke of wisdom acquired through age. Legolas, Seasa thought wryly, for a moment forgetting her fear as she studied the pair, could not contrast more. Besides the long scars on his elven face, which were healing quickly thanks to his elven blood, dirt and sweat mingled and dried on his forehead. His tunic, dark for camouflage's sake, was torn and filthy. Though the lithe young warrior was the epitome of strength and his father's appearance spoke volumes of his capability, the really striking thing that laced them together now was their exhaustion. It spoke from every line of their face and every moment of their body, and Seasa felt a slight pang of regret that she might have caused some of it. Then she pushed it away. Let him feel all the exhaustion he wants, she thought with spite, for soon I won't be able to feel at all. Meanwhile, Legolas was still talking.
"..when we got news of Orcs by Old Forest Road--" This announcement caused several gasps in the watching crowds and Legolas frowned. His father had always felt it was best to share all of the ruler's knowledge with the people so they may be prepared in times of danger, which was why he insisted on formal public reports from the Guard before the ranks were transferred and those on active duty were relieved. But Legolas felt it often inspired unneeded panic, and he tore his eyes away from his father to shoot the crowd a dark glance. It quieted immediately and Astalder, just behind Legolas in ranking line, smirked. That look of Legolas's would spot the sun in it's tracks if used to its full power. Even the birds stopped singing when Legolas was displeased and let it show -- the normally reserved Prince did not usually show his displeasure to his subjects, however, and it warned them to be quiet.
The Prince continued. "When we arrived at the Road, the Orcs had seemingly gone, but I sent Captain Sindatil ahead to chase after the Orcs. I could sense they were not yet far away and that some mischief was still planned, but I didn't know what. Astalder set up a perimeter and I took the interior. There were no Orcs in sight, but just as we relaxed our minds, our captive screamed out in warning." Legolas hesitated, but continued and Thranduil raised a brow. Why would a captive warn her captors of danger? "The forest surrounding the area," Legolas said, and his voice quieted, "was ruined. The forest was dead and our souls ached -- our minds were not as sharp. But the captive was still aware and her senses caught the Orcs just before the attack, and she chose to warn us rather then flee. It saved many lives."
Thranduil's sharp eyes flew to Seasa's crumpled form, and he gestured to Astadler to have her stand. The elf moved swiftly, helping the kneeling girl to her feet.
Seasa took a deep breath, exhaling quietly. She left her hands dangling limply by her side and Thranduil's eyes raked over her -- not just to peer at her appearance, but to peer into her soul. She raised her chin, slightly defiantly, and set her eyes cold. She looked a mess, she knew, but she wouldn't let it compromise her dignity.
Thranduil moved directly in front of her, his eyes locked with her. She took an involentary step backwards, but Astalder placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her forwards again.
"What is your name?" Thranduil asked quietly, his voice firm. Seasa's eyes flickered towards the windows and the open doors -- her only means of escape, but Thranduil saw her gaze and shook his head slightly. His voice was still kind as he warned gently, "Don't try it. Your name?"
Seasa's eyes flickered to Legolas, who was regarding her impassively. In her mind's eye, she heard this question being asked of her, a seemingly long time ago.
'What is your name?' the Prince had asked impatiently. 'Silent one', She had replied mockingly. 'Do you think this is a joke?' he had asked furiously.
And she did, kind of. The reality of her situation had never truly hit her, never truly until right now. Something flickered in Legolas's eyes and she knew he was remembering as well.
Thranduil was still waiting calmly. "Seasa, Your Majesty," she replied in a choked voice.
"Seasa," Thranduil echoed. "Where are you from, Seasa?"
Seasa's head snapped towards Legolas and she took a startled step backwards and when Astalder pushed her forwards again, she resisted. Her eyes fell to her feet, her face flushed and her eyes wild with fear as she struggled to stay away from the King. Her reaction didn't surprise Thranduil, who turned back to his son with a tired expression. "Continue with your story, Prince Legolas," he said with a sigh. "Like I was saying sir," Legolas continued immediately, "she saved many lives but when she realized I had taken--" Legolas broke off, then continued. "I had confiscated a token of hers and when she realized it, she attacked me out of hate." Thranduil frowned, reaching forward to gently touch the long, flesh colored marks on his son's face. "Are these her work?" he asked and Legolas nodded. Thranduil didn't reply and Legolas continued, his fingers wrapped around the necklace in his pocket. "We set out the next day to return to the Palace. There has been no further disturbances from the captive."
Seasa was still struggling against Astalder's tight grip, and Legolas sent her a dangerous look. She stopped and Astalder smirked. Thranduil shook his head, but frowned. "I do not understand then; what evidence do you have of her guilt?"
The questioned echoed through the Halls, silent now at the Prince's unspoken bidding. No one spoke, no one moved at all, save for Seasa's brokenhearted struggles which she renewed with vigor as Thranduil asked the question.
For a moment, it looked as though Legolas wouldn't reply. A muscle was working in his throat, the tan skin rapidly tightening as his eyes hardened. Finally, Legolas withdrew his hand from his pocket and held out the dangling star jewel. The light caught it and thousands of intense beams shot out from it, sending Legolas and Thranduil's face into a world of different colors.
Legolas's eyes were glued to his father's face and Seasa stopped her desperate struggling, Astalder's arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders to fearfully gauge Thranduil's reaction.
No one moved for a moment, Thranduil's gaze locked on the tiny jewel. He was thinking -- Seasa could see he was putting things together -- and suddenly his eyes widened. His mouth dropped open and his jaw hardened. His eyes flashed towards Seasa -- anger radiating from his very being -- he blanched, then flushed with rage.
No one said anything for a moment before Thranduil went to speak, but couldn't. Fury had so clogged his throat that he had to take several calming breaths before he could attempt to give a reply. All the gratitude and pleased surprise he had been feeling a minute ago rapidly morphed into shocked hate and startled rage. All from that one necklace, dangling from the emerald ribbon.
His hardened gaze caught Seasa and she shivered, dreading the next words he knew she was destined to speak.
"Throw her in the dungeons," he said harshly, a sadistic smirk in his eyes as he watched the color fade from her being. Gone was the civil calmness and understanding from his voice; now it was harsh, sharp, mocking. "I'll deal with the arrangements for her execution later." To her, he spat, "Let your father come for you."
And he turned and swept away.
Seasa stared at him, as he raised a finger and gestured to Astalder and two of the palace guards. "Take her away," he spat and their grip on her tightened. "Legolas, dismiss the Guards. We'll place the other on active duty later." Thranduil's parting order was followed out immediately, the Guards rushing out of the Hall and towards their families -- they were not eager to see Seasa taken away.
Legolas hesitated, his heart fit to burst as he watched Seasa fight back the Guards. She was screaming, but the elves in the Hall were laughing at her. "Foolish spy!" they mocked. "Did you truly think you could fool our King!"
Seasa screamed, long and wailing, abandoning all dignity for fear. To be thrust into a dark, damp hole in the ground -- no doubt away from all sky and earth and light. It would kill her before they could --
She paused at the thought, and tucked it away. Not a bad idea, but she was more preoccupied. She braced her arms against her captors, who were now resorting to dragging her towards one of the unmarked hallways. Her eyes caught Legolas's, who, despite himself, couldn't help but watch. "Please!" She screamed. "Have mercy, mercy! Give me another chance!" She let out a long, blood curling scream, tears bursting from her eyes like rain from a cloud as more elves began to laugh. One of the meager palace guards grew frustrated with her screams and random punches, her desperate attempt to escape and raised his hand as if to strike her. Seasa didn't cower, but Astalder hollered, "Don't!" just as the blow was about to fall. The palace guard stopped mid-air, scowling but Astadler shot him a dirty look. "Don't you dare," he spat over Seasa's screams and pleas for mercy. "Please!" she yelled, her eyes latched on Legolas. Her desperation echoed admist the laughs and cheers of the crowd. "I'll reform, I'll serve -- I'll do anything!"
Legolas's was annoyed to see that he was shaking from emotion and he crossed his arms angrily. But he could not tear his eyes from hers, their beautiful jade depths awash with fear. "Mercy," she was saying, "please..."
But Astalder had gotten her out of the Hall, away from the amused eyes of the crowd. They were going towards the dungeons -- the lowest ones, Legolas knew, as they were reserved for betrayers and mutineers. They were the darkest, the dumpiest, the smallest -- fit, it seemed, for traitors. But her screams echoed off the of the walls, still pleading for mercy. Legolas turned away from the crowd, rubbing his eyes with his hands. But that image was frozen in his mind -- Seasa's jade green eyes, terrified, frozen with fear..fear inspiried by him.