Guys, this is the last chapter I have of this 1st part of the story. Over Christmas, I will be working on the second installation to Don't You Fall and maybe if you're lucky, might get an update around about Christmas…….!
Mrs Bloom – Her punishments awaits…….and sadly the bond will not be resurrected for this chapter though a good suggestion.
MacadamiaNut – Cleborn tries it on? Like to see him try now!
Meadowsweet1363 – Glorfindel's appearance is explained during the chapter and I've posted a note at the end to explain it more clearer.
Legolas' Melamin – thank you for your review concerning F words. I understand your point of view and can assure you that I will not use this word again. The two incidents I have used it before were used in a manner I felt captured the scene I wanted to portray……but saying that…..it's all to easy just to type that word isn't it? I'll look for a better and more respectable word to use in the future and hope that it hasn't marred your enjoyment of this story.
Shannan – maybe u are an insane person to scream at a computer………well of late, maybe I'm insane too judging by the number of times my computer gone down on me!
sadly i dont owe anythin to do with Tolkien or the books and films.
The Last Servant Rule - Fight for you life, soul and honour when duty calls you for in death, your Lord will honour you.
"And you kept her locked down there, hoping she would fade!" Glorfindel's voice rang off the walls of the throne room where sat Thranduil and his advisors.
"I kept her there till it was time for her punishment." Thranduil objected.
"I found her last night, she was almost gone, almost dead before I healed her…."
Glorfindel angrily paced, his tall frame towered over the seated advisors. He had hoped to reason but he should have known better, especially since Thranduil's mood wasn't of a good sort.
"Healed her? What gives you that right?" Thranduil snapped, his eyes angrily raked over Glorfindel's own.
"The words of Galadriel ordered me to, by her own hand she presented me the light of the Valar, the one thing that brought Isil back from Mandos. Your son would object to……" Glorfindel's voice was interrupted by Thrnaduil's own which roared, "My son will obey my words."
"Clearly he haven't for he wouldn't be in this mess would he? It's ill judgement to leave Isil to take his blame." Glorfindel's voice lowered to a tone Thranduil knew that the elf was keeping in check.
"Glorfindel, you're a guest of this realm, you've already interfered enough with my kingdom's affairs. Leave the rest be before I am forced to extend Isil's punishment over you." Thranduil rose to his feet, his barely concealed threat hung heavy in the air.
"The Lady of the Light and Lord Elrond will be most displeased. They hold your son's best interest at heart, they've kept Isil's downfall silent from him when he left Rivendell three weeks ago. He's by now by my guess, nearing Lothlorien if they kept to their true path. Would you have me take news of your ill justice to him?"
"And what does both Lord and Lady see regarding Isil?" Spat Thranduil.
"They seen that Isil's path will take her on one that will save the lives of many of our kind, that if she is allowed to followed that path." Glorfindel replied, his fists clenched as he stared right back at the elven king.
"What could a scared maid do?" the king sneered, provoking a wave of whispered exchanges between the advisors who remained silent for this long as they watched on the exchanged between their king and the living legend of Middle Earth.
"You'll be surprised." Retaliated Glorfindel.
"My people call for her to be punished." Thranduil snapped.
"You fool! The people call for her release. She's one of them! Your court calls for her suffering not your kingdom. Just your pride!" Glorfindel shook his head as he watched the elf who was a friend, look indignantly as his advisors muttered and cursed the golden haired elf's downright, out brazenness.
"Our friendship have been soured by this incident, but this is my final say. Isil will stand for her punishments according to the law of this kingdom then, only after that will I consider her path." Thranduil slowly rose to his feet as his eyes challenged Glorfindel to object.
"It's with a heavy heart that I walk away from a fool's presence, my work here is done but be warned. If Isil dies or fades, it will be a stain upon your name and kingdom. If this is justice in your land then I wish your people the best of luck. And remember Thranduil, I know of your bitter past, and just because one lady made a mistake, doesn't mean they all will."
The elf turned and left the throne room, the advisors whispering about Glorfindel's passing words and wondered what they meant as their king stared at the door the closed behind Glorfindel. He cleared his throat and roared over the noise of this advisors, "Bring Isil to me!"
There was a moment's delay when Glorfindel left the throne room in anger and the guards dispatched to bring Isil from her room.
When the guards returned, it was with Isil, the elleth who hands were bound before her yet her head held high, showing no signs that she was close to fading away. The light was working within her and the advisors stirred with unease at the elleth's cool posture.
Only Thranduil smirked, so he couldn't have her killed, faded or hurt but the one thing he could do and do best, was to crush a spirit completely. His fingers ran down the book of laws, the rules and punishments of this kingdom, written by his own hand and have been dealt upon many other elves that been brought before him. In his other hand, someone handed him Isil's dissention ritual. The piece of paper was bewitched by magic and if one did fall, it would stain itself black. As was Isil's in this moment of time, and he held it in front of his court for all to see. Those who doubted, hissed and those who believed all this time cursed how a maid rose above herself and endangered the court.
"You, Isil who been found guilty of breaking the laws of the dissention ritual by bedding my son and coercing him away from his kingdom's duties will face your punishments as is the laws of this kingdom before the eyes of my people. Justice is served to all who defy me, and even the lowest maid is not exempt. Every aspect of your temporary fumble with Legolas is to be recorded by Cleborn, my trusted guard….it was a temporary fumble?" Thranduil asked, his curiosity for how long this was hidden from him got the better of him. Isil replied to his question in a cool manner, her eyes were like that of a cat, narrowed and emotionless. "Its been going on for almost a year ."
A year!
Thranduil gritted his teeth as the advisors stirred and murmured their surprise, this wasn't an affair born of lust and temporary abandonment, but one which grew like seed to flower…….for this to happen, Isil must be holding a special place in Legolas's heart.
And Thranduil knew it, for whatever he dealt on Isil, when Legolas returned, his son would deal on him.
Could he risk it?
His mind emptied of all the punishments he had in store as he slowly built himself up, gaining confidence in his notion that Isil still needs to be punished but punished of a more restrained way till his son returned and a full story emerged.
"You, Isil will have all your hair shorn of its beauty for all to see what the harlot you are for embracing my son in your leeching arms. You will complete chores from dawn to dusk of back breaking labour for all to see that my justice is served upon all.
Your family will be made to dishonour you and your name will not be spoken, for my kingdom to know that you have fallen and stained a good family's name. You have fallen Isil in the worst possible way and you must pay." Thranduil stood to his feet and looked up Isil, to see upon her fair face were tears he knew his very words evoked and he asked her, "What have you to say?"
"My lord, I love your son and I know that I'm not worthy of him but he accepted me for who I was and is that not love? He lived daily with the pain, knowing his father would not accept a bond that been formed between his son and his maid, and yet he never left me for that. He lived in hope that maybe we could find a way to be together. You all stand there and judge me for my actions, just learn from my mistakes." Isil voice, though soft spoken was heard by every ear in the room and all remained silent enough to hear Thranduil's quiet admission of his own, "I have much to settle with my son and one I fear will cost me dearly." He cleared his throat and spoke louder, breaking the moment Isil held over them all, "From this moment, the name Isil will not be uttered in this kingdom. Take her and all that I have decreed starts effectively."
The guards turned on their heels and Isil followed them, he watched her being escorted from the room till the doors closed behind them and then he turned and headed to his own chamber, "No one to disturb me." He called, and all eyes watched their king closed the doors behind him with a heavy heart.
All that was needed was to wait for Legolas to return.
And when he did, the advisors whispered that like Thranduil, Legolas inherited the family's well known temper and if provoked he would fly into his father and anything could happen.
The maid was starting a feud at the heart of the kingdom, if father and son fall out then so will the court and kingdom.
Isil rubbed her hands vigorously as she tried to warm them from the cold she suffered with. For the whole morn, she was forced down a well shaft to hack at the thick ice that frozen over the palace well. It was dark, damp and freezing and a chore Isil prayed she never had to do again.
She pulled her scarf over head tighter, trying to hide the hair she been left with after a guard shorn it in the most indelicate of ways. Irregular tufts of hairs stuck out barely a few inches from her scalp, fluffy like feather down and hard to miss.
She was forever aware of the elves that watched her go and knew they talked of her behind her back in manners most unflattering. She sucked upon her finger which have been cut on an ice chard and refused to stop bleeding as she walked to her old servant quarters.
She was moved from the dungeons a little over two months ago after a patrol ambushed a raiding party of orcs. They were dragged and all individually placed in the many cells that were dotted over the palace, hence forcing Isil out. Though her old room was warmer and more pleasant to occupy in comparison to the cell, she wasn't thankful for the move as the air surrounding her have been heavy with the emotions of the servants. Some spat at her when she past whilst other avoided her like she was a leper, to save their own reputations.
She sigh, wishing with a heavy heart that Legolas would come back and rescue her from his father's prison he befallen onto her. She looked round her room, now all stripped bare of the objects Legolas gave to her. The one and only piece of furniture was the bed with its few scraggly pieces of blankets that better served a dog. All the possessions she now held was a few items of clothing, a book of elven prayers that a guard told her, she would need for forgiveness. And Horthe's sword, the one honour they could not take from her in fear of dishonouring the fallen elf and his last words.
The sword hung by it's belt from a peg in the wall as she looked upon it, many a day wishing to take her own life with it. But that was the easy way out, Isil was going to fight on and on till she couldn't no longer.
Somewhere came the call of a horn, a horn that Isil knew signalled that an enemy have been spotted. This was confirmed by the screams and sounds of war that came from the courtyard just outside her window.
She looked out to see Uruks were pouring in through a gate they managed to knock down, killing and maiming all in their way as elves, elleths and children ran, screaming and begging for their lives.
The snow turned pink with blood that was spilled and bodies twitched where they fell in death. The Uruks charged into the guards that tried to protect the palace from the invaders but they were hacked down. Isil heard the maids screaming out in the corridor followed by a great boom as the door caved in.
grabbing her sword, Isil ran out to see Uruks charging down the long corridor, hacking and slicing as they went.
"Follow me!" Isil cried out in vain for her voice was lost on the commotion around her. She ran as a plan formed in her head, fuelled by those thundering feet behind her, knowing that if she fell behind she would feel orc blade in her flesh if they were kind enough.
She frantically ran her fingers along the wall opposite the kitchens where she knew was the exit from the room where Legolas and herself spent many a days love-making. It would now serve a different purpose as her fingers found the notch and pushed it in, the door opening outwards as Isil pushed running maids and servants into its great gaping cavity. There was a crush of bodies as they all tried to fit in and Isil screamed for order as she pushed them in. As the last maid huddled in the now full chamber and stairwell, Isil heard a voice scream, one she knew very well.
"Keay!" Isil grabbed the maid's hand and threw her in, "Tell everyone to keep quiet and make not a sound!"
"What are you doing? Come in!" Keay grabbed Isil's arm but was shaken off, "No, the door can only be closed outside. I'll be fine."
"Isil! No!" Keay screamed as she tried to grab her friend once more but her fingers came into contact with the stone door as Isil slammed it shut.
Isil panted, the screams of the dying that didn't make it to the door pierced her brain as she pulled her sword from her belt. She hid herself round a sharp bend of a column as she dared not breathed when the first of the vile creatures appeared round the corner. It reeked of sweat, blood and bile from spilled intestines it gorged itself on as it sniffed the air with its ugly rigged and pierced nose. Its wide, dark eyes took in the corridor that laid head of him and he called out in black speech to his comrades who joined him from feasting upon the fallen. They all sniffed at the air and Isil hoped they wouldn't scent the elves she had hidden.
"Elf flesh! They are near!" one Uruk hissed and Isil felt her heart jump in one sickly motion as she watched the half dozen Uruk scratch at the wall as they followed the scents. Isil gripped the sword in both hands, the weapon feeling too heavy for her hold and making her elbows turn to jelly to match the current state of her knees. Trying to take deep breaths when her body wanted to run, she forced her eyes closed as she mentally said a pray to the valar to help her now, right now.
But no miracle came, no white knight in shining armour, blinding light or Legolas. Only the sickly stench of spilt blood, the aura of evil and the sounds of her breath in the noise of the Uruks' scratching fingers remained.
She closed her eyes and in one pivot of her feet before she cowardly ran away, she yelled with all her might as she swung the sword out and struck orc flesh. She heard the surprised rasps from the vile creatures but by the time they regained their wits enough to snarl at her, three of their comrades were dead and she was already hacking at the forth one. The sword hit the Uruk's armour, the loud clang rang in her ears as the tremors of the blade hitting an unyielding surface made her arms shake painfully and she cried out.
Momentarily distracted by her painful mistake, the Uruks lunged at her and one sword grazed her side. She screamed but instead of falling in pain, it was as if she was fuelled by it instead as she blindly turned and severed another Uruk's head in one clumsy motion. But this new founded energetic spurt was short lived when a sword pierced her flesh at her shoulder, pinning her between the sword hilt's and the Uruk and the wall behind her. Gritting her teeth , she ignored another stab to her leg and swung her own sword and severed the orc's arm.
But she didn't see the blow that came from behind, only when the sword's pierced point entered her stomach from the back and she heard the sickly squelch of her organs being dislodged by the deathly parry, did she look down and saw the blood red tip poking through her belly.
Only then did she realised that the remaining three orcs were too much of a task at hand to kill.
That she shouldn't have attacked them in the first place.
That she made a mistake.
A mistake that's cost her, her life.
"Legolas……I'm sorry……" she breathed, as she sagged to her knees and groggily saw the Uruk before her about to behead her. Her weakening fingers grasped her sword one last time and swung it with all her might in a circle about her, slicing through bone and flesh and severing all three Uruk's legs. They screamed in agony as their own body mass toppled upon their amputated limbs and their screams were the last thing she heard as she slumped against the floor, staring up at the ceiling and wishing she could tell Legolas one last time that she loved him.
Darkness crept into her vision as her body became chilled, the curtains of reality closed upon her as Isil closed her eyes one last time and exhaled her breath, her body slackening as the welcoming fingers of death comforted her.
Isil, daughter of Hassel have breathed her last.
Ok guys, here's a recap note for those who wanted me to write one.
Glorfindel have been sent by word of Galadriel, for we all know of her mirror and her ability to see the future and so forth. Reasons why she intervening in foreign politics are hazy when concerning Galadriel's foresight but I can assure you, she interferes for good reason. The light of Valinor is a rare potion, one which ingredients have been lost to time. This potion is used sparingly and Isil must have been of vital importance to be administered it. Again this is due to Galadriel's foresight.
Obviously I cannot reveal what it is Galadriel saw for its giving away the plot.
Things that are hazy such as how Glorfindel was lead to Isil, what Isil's punishments were and how bad they were will be found out by Legolas. It with him that we find out what fate befell Isil to the last and I can assure you, Isil will be the second part in some small way.
