Chapter Fifteen: Saving Grace
Murder… He could think so easily of it, even distantly and he knew he was in shock still. He was too numb to grieve.
Haldir splashed cold water onto his face to still the flood of bitter tears that stung his throat. He glanced up into the looking-glass to see his own shadowed eyes. His face was white. Tearing his gaze away from his haunted reflection, Haldir looked absently around the spartan room.
There was little in the way of comfort though Thranduil had provided every luxury for his guests. The Lórien soldiers asked for little of their hosts- not wanting to be burdensome and more accustomed to the plain platforms in the trees of their homeland anyway.
A simple room with a mahogany desk in the corner which also doubled as a breakfast table sat near the sliding glass door that led onto a little balcony overlooking the towering birch trees that nearly grew up to the window. It made the Galadhrim feel right at home to have the trees so near.
And Haldir wished he could be there now.
He turned away from the view at the window and back towards the room. It looked terribly, frighteningly normal as well as empty. Cálivien's bed had been made up by a servant; the flowers in the vase on the table had not yet withered. There was no evidence to suggest that its former occupant had just been brutally assassinated.
Haldir fingered the worn and battered scabbard at his side. The sword had been found in the commander's room, untouched and sheathed. He would keep it as a reminder to himself. A reminder of what happened when he did not protect those he cared for. Cálivien had been his captain, mentor, friend. And now he was dead. Haldir blamed himself for it. He had been the one in charge; he should have suspected something was amiss! So many questions whirled through his mind, mingling with the grief and guilt he felt.
Slowly seating himself on the edge of the bed, Haldir sighed and let his head sink into his hands. How had this happened? This was only supposed to have been a diplomatic mission! Now the King was missing and one of their own was dead. But at whose hands? Haldir raised his head, staring dispassionately at the wall.
He could think of at least one person that had nearly spoken his dislike for them aloud. Ainan. That elf had as good as accused them of treachery and if Haldir and his friends were viewed as a threat to the kingdom, he might take drastic action. But how drastic?
Cálivien was dead.
It seemed he had his answer.
A knock on the chamber door startled him from his dark thoughts and he raised his head as Ancadal poked his head into the room, followed closely by Rameil. The two of them looked weary and heart sore. Cálivien had been a good friend of theirs as well and had trained them both since they were but children. They stood silently by him for a moment, not speaking but taking a little comfort in the knowledge that they were not alone in their grief.
"I cannot believe he's gone," Ancadal sniffed and turned away for a moment in a pretext of examining the view outside the balcony. Haldir did not remember how long he had been in this room but it must have been a longer time than he had thought if his friends were looking for him.
"With all due respect, sir," Rameil began with a nod of his head. "We need a commander now- not a mourner." They were hard words and Haldir felt the bite of them. Ancadal turned on the Rivendell elf in open wonderment, astonished that he had the gall to address their friend in such a manner, which the raven-haired elf blithely ignored. Haldir looked up at him in surprise.
"Sir, he didn't-" Ancadal started but Haldir forestalled his protestations with an upraised hand.
"No. Rameil, you're right." Haldir rose slowly from his seat and looked the stoic elf in the eyes. "Someone has to decide what we're going to do." He broke his gaze and turned it to the floor.
"What are we going to do, sir? Do we leave… ?" Rameil trailed off uncertainly. Haldir shook his head slowly.
"We cannot. The paths through the forest are blocked with snow," That, at least, he believed of Ainan- if nothing else. Haldir shrugged hopelessly.
"We're trapped here," Rameil said quietly, his face betraying nothing but deep in his eyes there was a little flicker- as though of fear. Haldir stared at his subordinate for a long moment, wondering if the inscrutable warrior too suspected Ainan. Haldir's eyes drifted towards the westward rising moon. It was still fairly early but he was bone tired and he knew the others probably felt the same.
"We'll not worry about that now," he consoled soothingly as he tried to allay their fears as well as his own. "We must see Cálivien put to rest first." He reached forward and placed a hand on either of their shoulders, feeling a heavy weight settling on his own.
"As my first order, I command the both of you to get some sleep. I also want you to report to me in the morning and every evening. Keep your eyes open and your blades close," Haldir warned them sternly, unconsciously appearing exactly like their former commander. Rameil snapped a sharp salute and nodded briskly.
"Yes, sir."
Ancadal grinned and repeated it with a silly, exaggerated gesture with much bowing, shattering the stiff seriousness of the moment.
"Yes, sir!"
Rameil looked as though he could hit the younger elf but Haldir only smiled, again thanking his Lady for letting this young elf come with them. It lightened his heart and he swore to himself that he would protect these two.
He would not fail them as he had Cálivien.
Many were already asleep and the eerie gloom cast twisting shadows along the emerald carpeted floors. But the young elf slipped restlessly through the halls, searching for his friend, avoiding the revealing patches of silvery moonlight filtering through the high windows. His father would tell him nothing of what had happened but Lóthmir knew it was nothing good and he was worried for his friend.
What troubled him was LegolasHe had been far too distant and silent over the past weeks. The young elf merely wondered why? And now, since there were no lessons to interrupt or other things (besides sleeping) that the young prince could be doing, it was the perfect time to talk and though Rinniad had said he would come, Lóthmir had not seen hide or hair of him.
What had happened to the palace?
Often during their rambunctious years, the three elves would stalk the corridors of the palace- just as often getting caught by their fathers or the kitchen servants as they tried to sneak sweets from the larder. But, he had never felt… frightened in the palace after dark. It was a safe haven for the elves in the middle of this darksome wood. But, now, it felt strange and unfamiliar. Cold, even.
Lóthmir shivered and stopped, listening.
There were voices coming down the passageway. Soft voices, whispers and the young elf felt his heart leap in his chest in sudden trepidation.
If it was the servants, or worse one of the guards who knew his father, he would be in hideous trouble. But there was no place to hide. Frantically, Lóthmir hid himself in the deepest shadows he could find away from the emerald windows beside one of the intermittent statues of the Valar. Thankfully, Irmo's voluminous stone robe threw long shadows into the corner.
But it was not the servants or the guards that paced towards him now and Lóthmir, despite himself, leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowed against the darkness. He stilled his breath as his heart hard pounded between his ribs, nearly choking him.
What was Legolas doing out so late? And with his uncle…? Something was going on. He had heard his father talking about the mysterious elf-lord some nights ago- of his promises to help the elven people while their King was absent- absent. Tirien stubbornly refused to believe that their King had abandoned him… or the alternative. Lóthmir's father had not believed the Regent. His young son knew nothing of such things and so ignored it although Legolas' uncle rather scared him.
He hauled in his attention as he saw Legolas stumble. Lóthmir's brow furrowed as he saw his friend double over as though in pain, clutching his injured wrist. The prince's young face contorted though no sound left his lips. Ainan's eyes narrowed in annoyance and he cuffed the prince soundly across the face, knocking him backwards into the wall.
"Stop sniveling, child," he snarled sibilantly, his silver-blue eyes flickering quickly around the silent hallway and Lóthmir quickly pressed his back against the wall to avoid detection.
The watching elf's mouth dropped open, shock and outrage momentarily overwhelming his fear. How dare that elf call himself Legolas' kin! To treat him as such…! Now, he knew why Legolas had been so quiet and avoiding them of late. But why hadn't he told anyone?
He had to tell someone.
Lóthmir waited until the pair had passed him, feeling his heart ache for his friend and intense anger that made his blood boil at the thought of the prince's traitorous uncle.
He spun around only to leap back in sudden fear as two, burning, dark eyes bored down into his. He didn't even have time to shout as an icy hand clapped over his mouth and he felt a sudden, sharp blow to the back of his neck
Then everything went black.
Legolas was shoved roughly into his room and he flung himself onto his makeshift pallet near the unlit fire as he heard the lock click behind him. The young prince wished there was a deadbolt on that door that he could lock from the inside. Then the monster outside couldn't get him. He buried his face in his arms as tears of pain welled in his eyes.
But they would not fall.
He could still feel it. Hear it. And he shuddered violently with renewed pain, anger and humiliation. But, fear overrode it all. This time, Legolas had passed out from the agony and only the shooting pain in his twisted wrist had awoken him before his uncle had dragged him back to his room. The prince tossed and turned restlessly, bolting up, drenched in sweat as he realized he had fallen asleep. Only the firelight cast menacing shadows haunting the walls.
Sighing and giving up on sleep, Legolas picked himself up from the floor and eased himself into his chair, careful of his back which felt as though it were afire. He looked up sharply at a creak in his room. His wide, blue eyes stared around in fear as he scrambled to his feet, swaying as agony shot through his back. But there was nothing there and the tree that had made the noise creaked almost apologetically as it touched the glass window again.
Legolas couldn't stand it! The silence, the darkness, the fear, it was too much for his hurting and frightened body to take. He frantically rattled his doorknob, before he remembered that it was locked.
No.
The prince sat down slowly with his back against the solid oak door, leaning his head back against it as he closed his eyes. He was trapped.
He knew his uncle could kill him on a whim. There was no reason for Ainan to keep him alive- he was a liability only. Without an heir to the throne, Ainan could rule uncontested; his father was gone- and his mother… She was so withdrawn from him lately, consumed by her own worries, her own fears.
He was alone.
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Click.
Legolas leapt back as the door to his room opened a crack, his heart thundering in fearful apprehension.
Rinniad grinned up at him mischievously from where he knelt on the floor, a small, slender pick in his hand.
"You know I'm better at picking locks than you. Come on, Lóthmir's supposed to be around here al-" he frowned slightly as he looked up at the prince's pale face. "Legolas, what's wrong?" He looked up at the prince's white, wide-eyed face and became immediately wary. But the prince shook his head and took his friend by the shoulder.
"Rinniad, I can't explain this to you," his voice nearly broke as a vision flashed before his eyes of his friend in his uncle's hands… but he shook his head and rattled on. "I want you to find Lóthmir and get back to your room. Stay there and don't come out. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, but Legolas-!"
The prince ignored his friend's pleas as he raced off down the corridor as fast as his shaking legs could carry him and his wounds would allow.
His parents were nowhere to be seen and he dare not involve Rinniad or Lóthmir for fear of bringing them into danger. Feeling very small and abandoned, the prince searched the empty halls, a hollow pit of fear gnawing at his stomach as he realized that if his uncle found him out of his room after he had been locked in for the night… The prince swallowed a hard lump in his throat as he realized that his next beating might kill him. He couldn't take much more of this. The pain was getting worse, with his uncle beating him unrestrainedly with his father gone. If only he had been quicker and told someone! Maybe all of this wouldn't have happened!
He felt so coldly alone as he glanced outside. The moon was drifting westward. The prince was surprised- he hadn't realized it was so late. But even that could not dull the horrid agony he felt throbbing through his chest. His father was gone… his mother… who could he turn to? He couldn't do this alone anymore! His spirit sagged under the dragging weight of fear, grief and agony that he had borne for far longer than he had thought he could stand.
Legolas paused for a split second, undecided, then turned right around and raced back the way he had come, heading towards the guest wings.
The soft, insistent knock drew him from sleep. Haldir sat up abruptly, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He threw back the covers, shivering as his bare feet touched the floor. The knocking continued- soft but unceasing as though the person on the other side of the door wished to rouse those within with as little noise as possible.
Haldir crossed his room in three strides and opened the door slowly.
Legolas stood on the threshold, his face white in the moonlight streaming through the long windows. He looked up at Haldir who leaned on the doorframe, bleary-eyed with his long hair disheveled from sleep.
"Legolas? Do you know what time it is?" the elf commander asked, rubbing his eyes as he suppressed a yawn. Then he caught the look on the younger elf's face and all irritation disappeared.
"What's wrong?"
Legolas hesitated a moment, suddenly unsure and awkward of what to say. He looked up at Haldir then down the corridor as if he expected some monster to come charging around it.
"I'm sorry for the hour…" he began but Haldir merely shook his head, nodding to encourage him. "May I- may I speak with you, please?" Haldir nodded again.
"Certainly. Give me a moment."
Haldir disappeared from the doorway and reappeared a moment later with an emerald colored robe draped around his shoulders. He motioned the young prince into the room but Legolas hesitated.
His uncle had eyes and ears everywhere.
"Do you mind if we walk a little?" he asked. Haldir shook his head with a shrug.
"Why not?"
At every corner, Legolas expected to run into his uncle and his heart beat a frenetic thump in his chest as a chill groped its way up his spine. Every drape's shadow concealed an enemy and every soft sound of the night made him jump nervously. Sweat slid down his back and made his nightshirt stick uncomfortably to his skin but he led Haldir onward down the marble steps and out onto the palace grounds, saying nothing as they flitted from shadow to shadow like phantoms.
The grass was wet and crunched under their bare feet as they crossed the dark grounds, bathed only in the gentle silver light that drifted through the rifts in the banks of cloud that drew up from the east.
They wandered out into the gardens, the long hedges spidered with glittering frost, and sat beside the white marble fountain. Even now its cool waters splashed down into the basin, murmuring in the moonlight. Legolas sighed, feeling comforted at last. Being here reminded him of his mother and gave him courage. Haldir sat beside him, the crisp air having finally driven the last cobwebs of sleep from his mind.
"So," the Lórien elf began, his voice uncommonly loud in the stillness. "what is this all about?" Legolas looked up at him briefly as he watched the falling water rippling into the pool. It was suddenly much harder to explain than he had anticipated- seemed almost ludicrous! Maybe he was mistaken… ought he really to tell anyone at all?
"I'm- I'm really sorry about… your friend," Legolas hedged, casting about for something, anything else to say. Haldir raised an eyebrow even as a fresh spark of sorrow flashed in his dark eyes.
"So am I," he said after a moment of silence. "But I don't think that that is the reason you woke me up in the middle of the night." He smiled gently down at the golden head. When the prince didn't look up, the older elf reached forward and tilted up his chin to look into the young elf's eyes.
"Legolas?" Haldir prompted softly, his grey eyes concerned. The golden-haired prince took a deep breath.
"I-I think my father's in danger," he blurted out in a rush. He hesitatingly met Haldir's eyes, afraid that the older elf would laugh or curse him for being so foolish and for waking him up in the middle of the night for such a ridiculous reason.
Haldir did neither. He merely stared at the younger elf for a long moment without speaking.
"Why would you think that?" he asked and Legolas breathed again- at least Haldir was willing to hear him out.
"I heard… you just have to believe me, Haldir," he said softy, too afraid to implicate his uncle in such a plot. The elf commander asked no questions and merely nodded, wide awake now, his thoughts awhirl with this information.
Legolas rubbed his sore wrist absently and Haldir's eyes followed the movement, his suspicions increasing tenfold.
"Who is doing this to you, Legolas?" The young prince looked up in shock, fear suddenly flashing across his face before it was carefully wiped away.
"What do you mean?"
Haldir pointed to his wrist. Legolas glanced down at it and shrugged- the lie coming easily from his lips as it had when everyone else had asked him that same question.
"I fell from my horse- a riding accident, I told you."
Haldir raised an eyebrow for the second time that night in disbelief.
"I did not know you rode in winter. Let me see- it may be serious." He stretched forth his hand and touched the bandage.
"Oh, leave it be, please," Legolas pleaded, shying away but Haldir held him fast, though gently. He carefully pushed up the prince's silver nightshirt to expose the bandage wrapped around his arm. The younger elf bit his lip as the commander's surprising gentle hands unwound the wrap, exposing the swollen wrist of the child.
Legolas shivered as the cold wind met his hot flesh and looked away from Haldir in shame. His heart beat faster- half with anticipation and half with terrible fear. The Lórien elf frowned and leaned forward, carefully examining the circular bruises on the prince's flesh; the accusing marks livid still against the white skin screamed a terrible tale of horrific violence.
"These are fingertip bruises, Legolas," Haldir said softly, looking up at the prince, his suspicions and worst fears confirmed. The young elf would not meet his gaze as he sought to fight against the tears of shame that threatened to run down his face. He screwed his face up and took in several deep breaths to calm himself, finally looking up again impassively.
Haldir's frown deepened at the lack of expression in his young friend's eyes. He did not know what Legolas was feeling and he certainly had not expected this. But something had been wrong for awhile now. He had sensed it in the young elf's silence, his unease and avoidances.
"It is easier to deny the truth than admit it when you feel that someone you trusted or loved does something wrong," Haldir said, not sure if he was saying the right thing or really what he was doing. But the little prince was his friend and Haldir could not be called the same if he did not try to figure out what was wrong with the prince.
Legolas listened quietly, his head cast down in thought as the older elf continued.
"However, keeping something inside of you- especially if it is painful and hurts you- eats away at you on the inside, hardens you… makes you cold." Haldir bent forward a little to peer up into the young elf's shadowed face.
"What can you do about it?" Legolas asked, his voice scarcely audible over the splashing water of the fountain. "If someone…" But he could not say it and Haldir understood, rather alarmed now and terrified of what this child might have suffered.
"Then you tell someone you can talk to. Your mother… your father… a friend."
"What if you deserve it?" The older elf's heart broke as he looked down at the golden head of the young prince.
"No one deserves to be hurt, Legolas," he said softly, not quite trusting his voice but his words burned with conviction. Legolas' own voice was very small as he next spoke.
"Please… tell no one…"
It was so difficult to say… he had kept his secret for so long! But it hurt so much to keep this inside! To worry all the time! To have fear coursing through his veins each night and each night wondering if he would live to see the morning.
Haldir frowned and rolled up the rest of Legolas' sleeves, looking for any more signs of violence upon the child but there were none. Ainan had been careful indeed and had covered all of his steps.
"He bound me with linen- to keep from scarring," the young elf's voice was scarce above a whisper; the shame of it making his ears burn. He could not meet the other's gaze. "He said there was nothing wrong with pain- it was a teacher… I deserved it."
"Legolas, there is nothing in this world that you could do that would deserve such treatment from anyone," Haldir said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Legolas fell silent for a moment.
"Dringae nin. (He beat me.)"
His entire story spilled out of him like a poison being sucked from a wound- the nightly beatings, the rod, the lonely nights spent on bloodstained sheets, the punishments from his father, his mother's aloofness, the discovered plan to murder his father… all of it.
Haldir listened quietly and Legolas was grateful for the silence of his companion. He feared that if he was interrupted, he would be too overwhelmed to speak again. It felt as though he were on a horse galloping out of control and if he stopped, he would shatter into a thousand pieces. And yet, it felt so good to have someone actually listen to him, to have someone look at him as though he were more than a pile of orc refuse as his uncle had looked at him. The compassion in those grey eyes nearly wanted him to break down and sob and it took all of his strength simply to keep on speaking, to force every word from his mouth before he lost his courage.
Finally, his tale told, the prince slumped and tears at last began to run down his face. A horrible weight had been lifted from his chest but in its place was a sickening, gut-wrenching fear. Haldir wrapped his arm around the young prince as the elf-child buried his face in the older elf's shoulder and cried, his body shuddering with sobs, of pain, of humiliation that he had kept locked up inside for so long bursting forth in a river of tears that soaked the older elf's tunic. Haldir tightened his grip on the young one, letting him cry as he struggled to control his own turmoil of emotions, aggrieved and horrified by the thought of his gentle friend being treated so cruelly by one he had trusted.
"You cannot fear him anymore, Legolas- fear is his power over you." The young prince mutely shook his head as he pulled away from the comfort of the older elf's embrace. It was so easy to say! But, Legolas had good reason to fear his uncle. The prince shrugged away from Haldir's touch and quickly dried his eyes and raked his hair back; his flushed cheeks the only indication of his emotional unrest.
"Legolas, I have to tell your mother about this. Someone must know of this. She can-" At this, Legolas pulled back violently.
"No! Please." He fervently gripped the elf's forearms. "You don't know what my uncle can do… He'll…" But his throat constricted and Legolas, to his horror, felt tears well up in his eyes. He fought them down and swallowed hard. Haldir opened his mouth to speak but Legolas rose suddenly.
"Don't say anything- please. My uncle…I will be missed," he said, his mien suddenly cold. He bowed and slipped quickly away. Haldir rose to follow after him but the prince was already gone. The elf captain sat back onto the cold rim of the fountain with his head in his hands.
He should have known! And he cursed himself for the lapse. Why had no one noticed? Anger pierced him- anger at Legolas for not telling someone sooner; anger at the King and Queen for not realizing that their son was in such terrible danger; anger at himself for being so caught up in his own selfish concerns. But most of all, he was furious with Ainan, that vile… Haldir gritted his teeth as he looked up at the cloud-covered moon and he chuckled bitterly as he reflected on the foul elf's name:
Ainan.
Holy one.
