Reviewer responses for Chapter 19:
Deana: Yeh, almost at where I had posted till last time! I'm so glad you decided to read the revised edition! And I'll try to keep you updated on Friendship and Shadows...
Mornflower: YAY! You wrote a little skit for me!!! Cool! That was so funny! It makes my day to read your skit reviews! Thanks and I hope you enjoy this update!!!
Pirate Gyrl: Creepy dream...he he...now to see if it comes true right! (Just kidding...or am I?) Sorry about the wait for this update...I've been busy!
Queenshadow: Hey, I missed seeing your reviews!! Glad you caught up with us. I'm happy to hear you are enjoying it and I hope I will be able to post the rest in a reasonable amount of time!
InsanePirate624: Thanks...you aren't gonna be mad at me for the wait! YAY! You are SO kind to me in your reviews...I don't think I'm the BEST writer out there...I just try to write well-rounded stories! Thanks!!!
Zammy: Ahem...here...is...your...post!
Kelsey: COURSE I saved Bilbo and Glorfindel! (Once my beta reminded me they would have been in Rivendell!) Legolas...he seems to be acting on emotion right now, doesn't he? We shall see what he does.
Moonyasha: So sorry, but I had to stop there! Here is the update...
Crystalcave: Glad you liked the beginning...hope you eventually get to read this!! When you get to chapter 20! And glad you liked baby Legolas. (My beta deserves credit for that.) And the fight scene...well that was just so much fun! Glad you liked.
Shadowfax2931: Hmmm...how does he defeat Graelath? You will have to see! It's going to be a surprise, that's for sure. I've already written it...Glad you like it and I'm ALSO glad you have been surprised...that's the idea...don't want to be too predictable.
Chapter 20: Revelations and Regrets
Gondor...
"My Lord Faramir?"
The young Prince of Gondor turned toward the tent flap and beckoned for the captain to enter. "Do you have news of the Orc army, Malgorn?" He waited, impatiently twiddling a small dagger in his hand.
The captain nodded. "Yes, my Lord." Approaching the map laid out on the table, the captain pointed to a spot just north of their current position. "It seems the Orcs have encamped themselves here. They have made no move to attack, nor does it look like they will. The shadow has not yet befallen the city either. I wonder if King Eomer is under attack now."
Faramir's heart thumped wildly in his chest and the captain, seeing his liege's reaction, immediately put two and two together and regretted the words. "I am sorry, Lord Faramir, I know you worry for the Lady Eowyn. But Helm's Deep is well fortified."
Nodding, Faramir dismissed the captain, preferring to be left to his thoughts for the moment. Odd that the orcs have not taken advantage of attacking us when we are not at full strength? Even though the shadow has not been cast, Gondor is still greatly outnumbered. What is Graelath planning?
The man had no idea, but he hoped that the King would be able to destroy the wizard before he DID have a chance to use his magic on Gondor and Rohan.
Aragorn's Company...
The Misty Mountains had been within view for a while now and the party grew restless. Only Legolas seemed calm, as though he had resigned himself to some fate the others were unaware of. Aragorn's fear grew as the silence between the friends continued. The man sought out his father.
"Ada? Might I have a word with you?"
Turning to find his foster son standing behind him, Elrond nodded and took his leave of Erestor and Gandalf. "What is it that troubles you, ion nin?" The Elf Lord asked, steering Aragorn toward the edge of the resting area.
Sighing, Aragorn looked his father in the eyes and said quietly. "I fear Legolas plans to leave us."
The Elf nodded as if he already knew this. "Yes, we have surmised as much. We will have to keep a careful eye on him."
Aragorn shook his head. "Legolas is very slick, Ada; something warns me he will be successful in his escape unless we watch him every second of the day and night. I do not wish for him to do anything rash and get himself killed. He is a stubborn Elf and his selflessness will get him killed if we are not careful."
For a moment, Elrond didn't speak. "We will do the best we can, Estel. But all the same, you should really speak to him; the rift between you two will not help our mission."
The man's face fell. Abruptly, he looked up at his foster father and his eyes narrowed. "What have you seen, Ada? Why do you make me feel as though my time with Legolas is short?"
The Elf Lord sighed lightly. "I have a gift of foresight; I know that as do you. I have not foreseen anything in particular, but I have a bad feeling about things." He paused, looking into the distance at the mountains Aragorn could barely see. "The feeling grows more worrisome as we continue." Looking back at his son, the Elf said quietly. "Go to him now."
With a heavy heard and troubled mind, Aragorn sought out the Elf in question. Knowing he would never be quiet enough to surprise his friend, Aragorn did not bother to tread lightly. Legolas turned at the king's approach. His eyes turned a darker shade of blue.
"Can I do something for you, Aragorn?" He asked, never breaking eye contact with the man, his voice cold.
Momentarily taken aback by the Elf's attitude, Aragorn squared his shoulders. He would not back down, he had to do this and he had to do this now. "Legolas, I came to apologize for what I said earlier. I did not mean to patronize you, mellon nin."
For a moment, Legolas did not answer. He wasn't sure he wanted to forgive the man that quickly. "You should have thought before you spoke, this is not easy for me, I do not know what I am going to do and I have many lives in my hands."
Reining in his anger, Aragorn carefully sculpted his words. "I know how you feel, Legolas. Trust me I do. My worry over Arwen has greatly affected my judgment." He paused. No, that isn't the way to go...I'm trying to blame it on grief. "Oh, forget that. I was wrong; I wanted you to tell me because I have a feeling I know what you are planning."
Legolas crossed his arms in front of his chest, but he did not speak. Instead he nodded lightly, waiting for the man to go on. Aragorn didn't hesitate long. "Someone obviously died in your dream. You said 'please don't be dead' and when you refused to tell me who you meant, when you brushed it aside and said that you were dreaming of Maranwe, I knew that you were not telling me the truth...I knew in my heart you saw my own death."
Though he was inwardly proud that Aragorn had realized this, he was also slightly worried. Without a doubt, the king would know he meant to strike off on his own. This complicated matters. "Aragorn, if I do not wish to share my vision with you, I will not. But since you have already guessed its nature, hear me now." Taking a deep breath, the Elf continued. "I foresaw your death. I know what must be done to prevent it. I will not needlessly allow myself to be killed in order to do it, so rest assured I am in no more danger then I would have been if I had not had the vision."
Somehow, this did not quell Aragorn's worry. He wanted more. "Legolas, promise me you will not strike out on your own."
Legolas was at a crossroads. He could outright lie to his friend and say he promised he would not, or he could refuse to promise and essentially guarantee he would leave them. Looking into the man's eyes, Legolas shook his head. "I can make no such promise."
Turning, he moved away, leaving Aragorn to his tormented thoughts.
Elrond, Galadriel, Thranduil and Gandalf had been watching the exchange warily. "So the prince does intend to go on alone," Galadriel muttered, her eyes lost in thought. "Cellnen made much the same mistake, thinking he could defeat Graelath alone."
Gandalf looked at the Elf and spoke quietly; glancing around to be sure no one was eavesdropping. "What happened to Cellnen?"
Galadriel turned slowly toward the white wizard. Her face was a mask of sorrow. "Cellnen sought to save us all, but he too was impetuous."
Gold flashed amidst a sea of black stone. The air was stale and hot. Mordor. A realm most avoided, but not this day. The gold was quickly hidden beneath a black cloak.
Glancing around him, the being continued on; painfully aware that he was alone and that he was probably walking to his own doom. Death was not an easy concept to grasp for an Elf. Cellnen, his blonde hair hidden now under the cloak he wore, finally laid eyes on his destination.
Graelath's tower, undisturbed in the land of Mordor.
Everyone had warned him not to attempt this feat alone, but Cellnen did not want to endanger any more lives. Graelath was cunning and ruthless; Cellnen was growing weary from protecting people from the wizard's wrath...and this was something he had to do alone, in honor of the man that Graelath had once been.
He was determined to destroy Graelath today, once and for all, no matter what it took.
From atop his tall, black tower Graelath smiled. "About time, Elf, I have long awaited this opportunity to kill you."
He went down from the tower to prepare for the arrival of Cellnen.
Galadriel sighed. "We only know what happened to him because of a very small witness, an unnoticed witness."
Cellnen entered the large chamber, which was lit only by the flickering light of torches. The wavering quality of the light cast long, spidery shadows along the walls and floor; shadows which seemed to engulf everything that they touched.
Flanking him on either side was an orc, there to prevent the Elf from escaping, but Cellnen had no intentions of trying to escape just yet. He had a mission to fulfill first, and he wouldn't consider the future any further than that mission now, wouldn't allow it to distract him from his own personal quest.
Cellnen waited quietly, not saying anything, nor did he attempt to move. His eyes were focused on the door on the far wall, and within a few moments, his patience was rewarded as a tall black shape flowed through the door, stopping just in front of the golden haired elf.
Graelath smirked as he studied the elf. Cellnen's eyes were locked on the dark wizard, yet he didn't speak. Finally, Graelath broke the silence by dismissing his servants. He wanted to face Cellnen, and this battle, alone.
The orcs shuffled out of the room. Graelath began to slowly walk around the golden haired elf that had walked right into his tower and offered himself up to death. Cellnen didn't move, and didn't look at the wizard.
Despite his determination and resolve to end this conflict here and now, Cellnen couldn't suppress a shudder that washed through him as, with a wave of his hand, Graelath caused the doors to slam shut, leaving them alone.
Like a cat stalking its prey, his strides fluid and graceful, Graelath circled the elf again, and then stopped in front of him, his black eyes meeting and holding the shining blue eyes of the elf that was now his prisoner.
"And so we meet again, Cellnen." Graelath's voice echoed in the room.
Cellnen dipped his head in acknowledgement, but didn't break his gaze from that of the Black Wizard's. "You know why I am here."
"Indeed I do. You were foolish to come here all alone, Elf, especially after all that you have done."
Cellnen's gaze didn't waver. His deep blue eyes shone with the radiant light that all elves possessed. "Foolish I may be, but this must end now, one way or another, my friend. I can no longer fight against you as I have been, so I choose to settle this here and now."
Graelath snorted and broke the gaze of the elf, who stood proud and tall in front of him. "You never had to interfere in the first place. If it wasn't for you, my revenge would have been complete by now."
Cellnen didn't blink. "I can not stand by and allow you to destroy all that is great and good in Arda." His voice softened, but didn't lose any of its conviction. "What happened to you, Graelath? Where did you go, and why have you lost your way?"
Graelath's dark eyes grew emotionless. "I have not lost my way, I have discovered a new way, a better way. If you insist on opposing me, then prepare to die, Elf!" Graelath stretched his staff out in front of him, prepared to use his magic to kill Cellnen.
The Elf shook his head. "You can not kill me with your magic, Graelath. I can shield myself from it." He looked closely at the man in black, his eyes filled with sorrow and an odd pleading. "We don't have to do this, Graelath. I know you suffered a tragic loss and still reel from it, but you are better then this!"
The wizard only shook his head. "Don't try to change my mind or my ways, Cellnen. You did that enough when we were friends, and like a weak fool I allowed you to... but not again. My path has been set and I will not allow a moment of sentimental memories to shatter my goals. There is no place in the future for you, Cellnen. "
"Then we are no longer friends? There is no hope left?" Cellnen said softly, his eyes shining with emotion. He really had lost his best friend and he was only now beginning to realize it. It hurt. It really hurt. And now he knew he was in grave danger. Deep down in his heart, he knew that he should have heeded the warnings of the Lady Galadriel and the others, but down in that same depth of his heart, he had also believed that Graelath would never harm him...he had been a fool, indeed.
"There never was hope, Cellnen." Graelath said quietly, but with honesty. "My whole life was destroyed when my family was slain..." his voice hardened, "and I will have my revenge on the ones that caused their deaths. I will not be swayed from my path. You have interfered for the last time, and you will die."
Cellnen's eyes remained locked on the man that had once been his dearest friend, even as a silvery tear flowed down his cheek, catching the light of the torches and sparkling like a diamond. "Then the Graelath that I remember is truly dead...and I hope that he has found peace beyond the white shores."
He heaved a sigh, and with a quietly whispered word, called up Gweluthand. She responded as promptly as ever, her comforting blue glow easing away some of the pain in his heart. He faced Graelath squarely, hating what he was about to do. He stared into those emotionless black eyes, and shuddered. His friend was dead, and he had to keep reminding himself of that, or he wouldn't have the resolve to do what he must...but still Cellnen regretted the choice that he had made, and prayed that the Valar would pardon him for this, for it was nothing less than murder.
Graelath smirked. "So you think you can block my magic with that little blue mist, old friend?" He spoke the title with disdain and then he loosed a fire bolt of energy from his staff, knowing full well that it would not hit the Elf. He feigned shock. "That is not possible!" the wizard shrieked.
Cellnen shook his head as the fiery bolt crashed into Gweluthand and was absorbed by her magic, a magic as old as the world. He steeled himself in preparation to strike back, but he never got the chance.
From the wall behind him, a single arrow flew threw the air. The force of the blow pitched Cellnen forward, surprise and pain written on his face. He fell on top of Graelath, his hands clutching the wizard's black robes as his lifeblood spilled from the wound in his back. His grip on the wizard weakened, and he could taste the metallic taint of blood in his mouth as he fell to his knees, then onto his stomach.
As his sight began to darken, the last thing that he saw was the comforting blue glow of Gweluthand as she faded back into the mists that she came from, her voice ringing in his head as she bade him farewell, for she would live on, once he was gone, her magic protecting her and sustaining her until another with the power to command her came along. With his dying breath, he whispered a prayer to the Valar, praying that somehow they defeat Graelath and hoping that his once best friend would see the error of his ways.
Graelath watched as the shining light in the elf's eyes faded away and they became cold and lifeless, open but unseeing. For a moment, neither wizard nor Orc moved. A fleeting mix of emotions flashed in Graelath's eyes; sorrow, remorse and pain, for the murder of his family, and, surprisingly, for the death of his former best friend.
The emotions for the latter, however, were quickly gone and his eyes returned to their lifeless black.
"Thank you, Moroch," the wizard said, a smile now on his face as he non-too-gently flipped Cellnen over onto his back, breaking the arrow shaft that had pierced the Elf's heart. "Not too clever was he?" He swatted a large moth from in front of his face. "Take this disgusting thing out of my sight."
And he never felt remorse, sorrow, pain or friendship again. Now all he knew was anger and revenge.
Gandalf was in awe. "How in this world could Cellnen have been so careless?"
To this, Galadriel had no answer. "Pride, valor, bravery...but we shall never know the truth. Perhaps he may have thought his once close friendship with Graelath would save him. But I have seen much the same feelings in young Legolas and I do not doubt for a moment he will walk right in there and feel invincible. Gweluthand is not really a shield, but a cloak to protect from the shadow. She cannot repel real weapons."
Elrond interjected. "Surely Legolas knows this, do you really think he will be that careless?"
Galadriel turned to him, sorrow in her eyes as she answered his question with one of her own. "Do you really think Cellnen did not know this also?"
No one spoke; all of them turned and watched Legolas by the fireside, silently munching a piece of fruit with a look on his face that suggested he hadn't a care in the world.
Galadriel sighed again. "Cellnen had much the same aura to him the day he went off to confront Graelath. It was like he was resigned to something and felt he could not fail. We must see to it his fate does not befall Legolas."
Elrond nodded and moved off, seeking out Aragorn. "We must do as you say, watch the prince all times, day and night." That said; the Elf Lord walked away leaving Aragorn rooted to the spot, momentarily speechless. Then he hurried off to confer with his brothers and Gimli.
Thranduil stood motionless, his eyes locked on his only son, his only living relative remaining in Middle-Earth. Valar, don't let my son kill himself. I don't know what I would do without him.
Sighing, he seated himself to rest, never taking his eyes from Legolas, determined to make sure the Elf didn't leave.
Damn this constant surveillance! I can't even go to the bathroom it would seem, without someone watching my every move. They know I plan to go on alone. How will I get away now? Legolas frowned, glaring at Elladan as the dark-haired Elf glanced at him and shrugged his shoulders guiltily.
The elf prince growled to himself, ramming a newly fletched arrow into his quiver before he flung it over his shoulder and stalked toward a tall oak on the outskirt of the glade the company was resting in. Hauling himself up, he crossed his arms across his chest and glared out into the distance.
What am I to do? I'll never get away now, I must think of something or Aragorn will die! Just as he was about to pull out his daggers and sharpen them, Legolas was jolted into full awareness by a voice.
: Legolas? I might be of some assistance to you...if you need a distraction. : It was Gweluthand! It hadn't crossed the Elf's mind to ask her help in something such as this. He grew excited and to avoid any attention, he answered her in his mind.
What could you do for a distraction? I would need enough time to get a decent head start on them. Legolas waited impatiently for the reply and was rewarded by a chuckle and an explanation. Smiling to himself, Legolas realized this might just work. It was worth the try to save his best friend's life.
When Legolas vaulted down from the tree, it didn't escape Galadriel's notice that the Elf was smiling happily. Her eyes narrowed and she wondered what had caused the sudden change of emotion. Something was up and it troubled her that she could not perceive what. Many called her a soul-searcher, and though her powers were great most of her knowledge came from simple observation and the things that others let slip when they were around her.
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam said, glancing at the other Hobbit. "You heard them talking, sure as I did. You really think Mr. Legolas will leave us?"
Frodo, who had also noticed the behavior of the Elf, frowned. "You know Sam, I think he might. I don't know why, but the Lords and Lady are very wise and if they are worried he will, I am worried he will."
Sam watched Legolas return to the fireside and join in light conversation with Gimli, Merry and Pippin. "You think he'll get himself killed?"
Frodo chose not to answer. He watched the Elf closely, trying not to imagine his deep blue eyes cold and lifeless as they would be in death. Somehow, he couldn't shake a feeling of foreboding.
Graelath's Fortress...
There was very little light in the fortress and this room was no different. No windows, only a small fire to light and heat the room. Yet it wasn't unpleasant if one was a captive. On a feather-filled bed lay Arwen, her hands lying protectively on her abdomen, lost in thought.
Graelath had surprised her to no end with his announcement of her pregnancy. The queen feared for her life, but more so for the life of her unborn child. What if Estel and the others were killed, unable to make it to her aid? Would she be able to allow her child to be raised by this monster?
No, I would rather the child wander the Halls of Mandos then fall into the hands of that vile wizard. If there was no hope of rescue...would I be able to slay my own? To kill the child and save it from an evil life?
She cringed, not wanting to imagine killing a child, let alone her own child. Suddenly, she sensed an approaching presence and surged up into a sitting position, her eyes focused on the wooden door as best they could in the poor light.
The latch lifted and she heard the bolt being thrown back. Slowly, the door opened and she saw the unmistakable black skin of an Orc. The creature sneered at her, its rotten teeth jagged and dirty. "The Master wishes you to join him for dinner," he chortled, slamming the door against the wall behind it.
Arwen made no move toward the door, fully intending to accept no nourishment from the wizard, especially after he had said he planned to marry her. No, she would not make this subjugation easy for Graelath.
Laying back down, Arwen tried to ignore the darkness and let her mind rest in Elvish dreams, where she could walk the paths of Rivendell and look up at the star-filled skies.
But the Orc, apparently, had orders to bring her in any fashion. So, he stooped down, grabbed her firmly by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. Arwen shrieked as pain shot up her arm then glared at the Orc.
"Wait until your Master hears how you have treated me!" She spat, finding joy in the way the Orc shrank back at that statement. But he quickly recovered.
"Hurry up, Elf filth. Best not keep the Master waiting."
Arwen reluctantly did as she was told and followed the Orc from the room, keeping as much distance between him and her as possible. She knew she was not going to enjoy this meal.
The tower seemed to be a never-ending sea of black. As Arwen followed the Orc through the corridors, she did not see anything to break the monotony of the color. Black walls, black marble floors, even black tapestries.
I could never live here, Arwen thought. I would die of grief; this place is no place for an Elf.
Part of her wondered if she were to be stuck here with Graelath if she would remain immortal. He was immortal, so it was not the same as Beren and Luthien's fate. But, then again, she knew that when her father left, she would lose her immortality. It was not the person that she chose to bind herself to; her immortality was tied to whether or not she sailed with her father. Does Graelath know that, I wonder?
Lost in thought, she didn't realize they had entered a dining room. Looking up as the Orc halted; Arwen found herself in yet another black room. The large, oak table was varnished black as were all the chairs, and there were a lot of them.
Graelath, unfortunately, didn't give her time to ponder the room's décor. "Sit," he directed, pointing to a chair partway down the table from him. At least he isn't making me sit NEXT to him, she thought callously.
Taking the seat, she lightly rested her hands on the table and remained silent. Graelath, for his part, said nothing to her. Then, as if he had come through the very wall, a small man appeared. He was the first being besides Graelath and the Orcs that Arwen had seen.
The poor man was filthy, dressed in rags and looked as if his ribs would surely show beneath what little clothing he wore. He was bony and forlorn, glancing for a moment at Arwen in awe.
"Hurry, give us our meals and be gone with you!" Graelath called out loudly, annoyed that his servant was eying Arwen. To break the exchange between the she-Elf and the man, he spoke again. "Is there anything you would like to know about me, Queen Arwen? Seeing as you will soon be married to me, once I do away with what stands in my way."
Arwen glared at him, her blue eyes flashing with anger and disgust. "You still hold to that illusion, I see. Very well, tell me why you are such a vile, ruthless villain. What makes you think you have a right to kill and maim?"
Graelath looked to be seething beneath the skin. He held in his anger, however, in hopes of reconciling the situation. He wanted to woo the Queen, not push her away. It would make the future much easier.
"You must know the stories of my people and the tragic death of my family, milady." He looked at her, placing his eating utensils down. "They were murdered and it is the fault of the Elves and Men that this happened."
Arwen laughed; a bold move for one in her situation. "The fault of Elves and Men? And how do you figure that, wizard?"
Scowling, Graelath stood and paced, making Arwen a bit nervous even as she tried not to show it. "Because, dear Elven Queen, your people are the reason I was not there to save my family. The weakness of the Elves...their inability to save their own hides, left me without a mother, wife, daughter, and son!"
"And Men?" Arwen prompted.
For a few moments, Graelath did not answer. "Men are weak."
"So you have no reason to kill the world of Men then."
Graelath glared at her now, his black eyes trying to bore holes into her. "I have reason. Makir is my reason."
Arwen desperately racked her brain for where she had heard that name before. It was recently, but in all that had happened to her she was drawing a blank.
Seeing the confusion, Graelath growled in anger. "Makir, the wizard apprentice whose cowardice cost me my family; my people. He couldn't even do a simple spell to save them, he ran. Therefore the race of Men is weak. Surely you blame them as well, for Isildur was weak when he did not destroy the Ring of Power."
Arwen frowned. "I do not hate the race of Men, nor do I blame an entire race for the misdeeds of one. How can I hate a people that I am Queen of? My marriage to Elessar has bonded me to his people as truly as I am bonded to my own." She deliberately mentioned the fact that she was already wed, reminding the dark wizard that she would never truly be his, no matter what he did to her. But he seemed not to notice.
The wizard sat back down, eying the Queen. "The deeds of one can decide the fate of a race. Or many races. Take Cellnen, that poor, misguided Elf."
The Queen's interest was peaked now. She knew of Cellnen, but not nearly enough. "You killed him."
"Yes," Graelath said, settling back in his chair, and Arwen thought that, for a fleeting moment, she saw a hint of a smile. "We were once great friends. The closest of friends some would have said. But, that friendship fizzled and died when his weak race led to the downfall of my people. I would not remain friends with someone whose people I blamed for their death, I still blame for their death."
Arwen was intrigued, yet horrified at the same time. They were best friends! What a horrible twist of fate! "How could you kill your best friend in cold blood?"
"I, unlike Elves, am not weak. I did what had to be done to avenge my people, to keep my plans in motion. I had worked too hard to allow that Elf to destroy all my plans. He was only the first...I soon will have killed all the Elves in Middle-Earth so that this world is no longer plagued by their presence."
"Arda is not plagued by the presence of the Elves, but by your presence. You have no place here!" Arwen seethed, slamming her fork down on the table.
Graelath's eyes grew darker if that was possible. "You are right, I have no place. I am neither Elf nor Man. I have no people; I am alone. And I hate it." Turning to the Orc at the door, Graelath gestured toward the Queen. "Take her back to her room and lock her in."
Arwen was still looking at Graelath with her jaw on the floor. So that is it then. He feels he has no place in this world and so he kills the races he wishes he was one of. Interesting.
Following the Orc, Arwen actually found herself pitying the man. She too walked in between two worlds...knowing she was immortal now but would be human later, even if she would never truly belong to either, for she was already older than any human, and would be older yet before she passed beyond the circles of the world. But at least she would have a place among the peoples of Middle-Earth. Graelath had no such place.
