NOTE: Sorry about the late post but I guess the site was down as I kept getting a Server Error 503 message.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
A/N1: The second really, really, bad guy will be introduced in the next chapter. My regular OC characters will also be appearing.
A/N2: The black falcon that Elrond sends with the message is the fighting falcon that belongs to one of my OC characters. Shakir, as he is called, was introduced in the first story entitled Black Rider and is patterned after the Gyrfalcon, the largest of any of the falcon species and has a wing span of four feet. Shakir, who understands the speech of two legged beings can communicate, although most of his communication is done through imagery. He is trained to fight, scout, hunt and is an able sentinel and messenger as well.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
You can't underestimate the power of fear.
Patricia Nixon
Chapter 14
Night Terror
"My Lord?"
He was aware of the sound on the basest of levels, no more than a hum in the background as he fled - or sought - he knew not which - something that had been alluding him for a very long time. Something called to him and he paused in his running trying to find the source of the sound so he could better determine the direction he needed to go.
There was a flash of lightning and he saw his beloved Mirkwood, his home, that he thought had been spared from the blight attacking it from the south, was now dead, existing as nothing than a cankerous ruin. He turned in the direction of the palace and ran as swiftly as his tired legs would carry him. There was another flash of lightning and he saw that the palace had been taken by the darkness as well and was nothing more than a dark, empty, cavernous hulk, as dead and dark as the landscape around it.
He was alone - so alone. And yet … He paused, breathing heavily from his exertions, his heart pounding in his chest, and searched the darkness around him with his eyes. Then, far off in the distance, the barest flicker of a light, the barest whisper of a sound - someone was calling to him from afar.
Again he took off running. He had to reach the light, for the light was calling to him - it needed him.
"My Lord?"
He stopped.
"Who is there?" He called into the night.
No answer was returned to him except for the haunting sound of someone's grief. Onward he ran, the dead hands of the blighted, dead trees clawing and groping at him, trying to snare him, to keep him from reaching the one who called to him - that needed him.
He stumbled on a stone that lay in the middle of the path and fell but immediately jumped to his feet and ran on, ignoring the torn leggings and cut knee. His breath came in ragged gasps and his heart pounded in his chest so fast and so forcefully that it was beginning to become painful. He grabbed at his chest and continued to run, even as it became more and more difficult to draw breath.
As he ran towards the light, a mere candle in a vast cavernous darkness, he knew that he was dying and when he did die, with his dying breath, his final sigh, he would extinguish that tiny, flickering flame forever. Then the light was right in front of him and he stopped, his arms flung outward in an attempt to keep his balance after stopping so quickly. As he watched the light, it began to take on shape and form until finally there was someone kneeling on the path in front of him, his shoulders slumped and shaking from the force of his crying.
He knew the being in front of him was someone he loved and who needed him desperately and the love and compassion he felt for the kneeling figure made the ache in his chest grow worse. He reached out a hand to give what comfort he could to the kneeling figure who finally lifted its head and looked at him.
He gasped and took a step backwards, his hand clutching the front of his tunic as he looked upon his own face, his own tear filled eyes, that looked back at him, silently begging for his help. As he recoiled from the specter and began to back away, the thing in front of him began to change, the skin of its face sloughing away like wax melting in a fire until its true form, its true identity was finally revealed.
Legolas! It was his son! His beloved son had called out to him - needing his father. Once more he reached his hand out to his son but suddenly found himself moving backwards, picking up speed as he went and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move forward to grasp his son's hand. He retreated until Legolas was once again no more than the flame of a candle, flickering far off in the distance then watched as the light began to dim until finally, it was gone.
"NO!" He screamed.
Arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders as his arms flailed about, his legs still running as he continued trying to reach for the candle that had just gone out. When Thranduil realized he was sitting up in his own bed, in his own room and that it was still night, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and concentrated on relaxing and slowing his racing heart. He felt as pillows were placed behind him to support him as he sat and tried to get his raging emotions under control then after the hands released him, the being walked to his bathroom. When the person again sat on the edge of the bed, he felt a cool, damp cloth wiping the sweat off of his face.
Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at the person sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Tilion, what are you doing up this late?"
The elf smiled at him shyly.
"Pardon the familiarity I have taken, my Lord, but I was on my way to the barracks when I heard you call out. You were distressed and there was nobody else around so I came to see if I could help."
He looked down at his hands.
"You were experiencing what is known as a night terror, my Lord. After my father was killed by orcs, I also suffered from them and I understand full well the emotional toll they can take on someone."
Thranduil took the cloth from the elf and wiped his face again while Tilion pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat quietly until the King was ready to speak. When some moments of silence passed and Thranduil remained silent, Tilion got up to leave.
"Tilion, please stay."
The young elf turned and once more sat in the chair he had recently vacated. The King carefully folded the washing cloth as he gathered his thoughts. Finally he raised his head and turned haunted eyes on the elf sitting beside his bed.
"It is the same dream every time. I hear a voice calling to me from out of the darkness and even though the words are no more than vague sounds from far off, I know that the words are a call for help. My heart is racing so fast and my chest begins to hurt and I know that I am dying and that when I do I will be killing whoever is calling out to me. Then a figure appears in front of me, crying and reaching for me and that is when I see a face - and it is me. Then the face begins to melt, like wax from a candle, and suddenly it is the face of my son. He calls to me but as I reach for him, I suddenly begin to move backwards - away from him and even though I try to get to him, the harder I try the faster I move away. I finally stop then stand and watch this tiny flame, far off in the distance until finally it goes out and I know that my son is no more."
Tilion thought for a moment.
"My Lord, do you have the gift of foresight?"
Thranduil looked at the young elf a moment before answering.
"Not to the extent that some of the Eldar possess it but I have to admit that when it comes to my son … this is what confuses me, young elf … is it actually the foreknowledge of an event or is it nothing more than a father's worry?"
"If you don't know the answer to that question, my Lord, wouldn't you say that it is time to ask that question of someone who just might have an answer?" He looked at the King knowingly.
Thranduil spent a moment trying to convince himself that this was the same elf that only had to walk into a room to create chaos.
"Master Tilion, when did you become so wise - or have you been purposefully been hiding this trait from your King?"
Thranduil threw the covers back on his bed and swung his legs to the floor.
"Lieutenant Tilion, please assemble my personal guards and tell them to immediately make ready to travel to Imladris. We leave in half and hour."
Tilion rose and nodded his head at his Lord's command.
"And Tilion…"
The young elf turned back to his King.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"I would like for you to ride with us."
Tilion smiled.
"Yes, my Lord."
Tilion turned and left the King's chambers but before he had even reached the door, he had tripped over a rug as well as a chair and had almost knocked another vase off a table near the door.
"Sorry." Was all he said before he stepped through the doorway and was gone.
Thranduil sighed and made a mental note to himself that no matter what new respect he had for the young elf, wherever the elf went, chaos couldn't be that far behind.
As he was dressing and packing for his trip to Imladris, his leg began to sting and when Thranduil pulled the legging up so that he could better see what the problem was, he gasped. The knee was cut and the debris from a forest path still clung to the dried blood.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
Elrond sighed deeply as he walked in his gardens, for the tranquility and comfort that he sought along the many fragrant pathways was eluding him, as they had since his youngest son had left Imladris. In fact, he had been bothered by something, a very elusive sense of foreboding, since the second message bird had arrived from Mirkwood some time before informing him that Mirkwood's King was en route to Imladris. There could only be one reason that Thranduil would leave his realm and seek out the father of his son's best friend - he was worried. Elrond sighed again and once more reached out for the serenity that the many fragrances and blooms in his garden offered him as he passed by them. He had many questions to ask, but they would all have to wait until King Thranduil arrived.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
Two days later, shortly after darkness had fallen and the moon had risen, the Mirkwood King and his entourage arrived in Imladris on lathered horses. Elrond, Glorfindel and Elurin, the family's loyal and long-time butler were standing on the steps outside the Last Homely House when the King galloped through the gate and into the courtyard. After he had dismounted and the grooms from the stable had led their horses away to be cared for, Elrond suggested that they adjourn to his Sitting Room for a nice cup of tea and so the King would have a chance to tell him the reason for his visit.
As the small group turned to enter the house, one of the elves accompanying the King missed one of the steps and fell, sliding down two more steps when he did. When Elrond turned to ask the young elf if he had suffered any harm, Thranduil put a restraining hand on the Lord's arm.
"Just pretend that you didn't see that happen." Thranduil whispered. "I will explain later."
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
After the three Lords had settled themselves in the comfortable, overstuffed chairs in the Sitting Room and Thranduil had dismissed the elves that were travelling with him, the three old friends spent some time catching up on what was happening in their respective kingdoms as well as in Lórien. Then, when the topic could no longer be avoided, Thranduil told Elrond and Glorfindel the reason for his hastily planned visit.
"I have come for council and hope that in the process, my spirit will be healed as well."
He took a sip of tea before he spoke again.
"For some time now, in fact it has been happening just since Legolas left this last time, I have been having a recurring dream where I hear a voice calling to me from out of the darkness - calling out to me for help. As I am running through a dead and blighted Mirkwood trying to find the one calling out to me, my heart starts racing and my chest begins to hurt so badly that I am almost incapable of drawing breath. In my dream, I know that I am dying and that when I exhale my final breath, I will be killing whoever is calling to me."
The King shivered involuntarily and Glorfindel rose from his chair and put another log on the fire in the fireplace. Thranduil smiled appreciatively before he continued.
"Then a figure appears in front of me, crying and reaching for me and when it turns towards me, I see its face - and it is me. The sight of myself kneeling there disturbs me and I gasp and step backwards and when I do, my face begins to melt like hot wax from a candle, and turns into the face of my son."
Thranduil stared into the fire, absently running his finger around the rim of his cup. Without looking away from the fire, he finished his tale.
"He calls to me again," he said quietly, "but when I reach for him, I suddenly begin to move backwards - I try to get to him but the harder I try the faster I move away. When I finally stop, I watch as this tiny flame, now far off in the distance goes out and when it disappears, I know that my son is no more."
Thranduil sighed and stared at his cup of tea before raising his head and looking at the Noldor Lord.
"The last time I had this dream, the night I left Mirkwood, I fell on the path as I was running toward the light and when I did, I remember tearing my leggings and cutting my knee. Young Tilion had been passing by my chambers that night and heard me calling out in my sleep and came into my room and woke me. We talked, and it was he that suggested that I seek your council. As I was dressing and packing for the trip my leg started to sting and when I looked, I saw that it had been cut and that there was still dirt in the cut on the knee."
He turned sad eyes towards the Lord.
"Elrond, I don't know if I am losing my mind, if this was just a manifestation of my anxiety over Legolas leaving or if it is, in fact, a warning that Legolas is in trouble. For once, I do not know what to do."
Elrond sat his empty tea cup down on the small table by his chair.
"I hesitate at this point to try and understand what it is that you are experiencing, Thranduil. Perhaps you are right and it is nothing more than a dream born of your worry over your son although I am also hesitant to say that is definitely the answer either. I recommend that for this night at least, that you retire and take rest for you are exhausted from your trip and discussions such as the one we need to have are handled much better when one is rested."
He looked at Glorfindel.
"Glorfindel, if you would show Thranduil to the Guest Suite I would appreciate it. I feel the need for a walk in my gardens to clear my mind, after which I will return and will then retire for the evening."
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
Elrond had just laid his head down on his pillow when he heard yelling and the sound of running feet. Jumping out of bed, he grabbed his robe and put it on as he ran down the hall towards the guest quarters. When he arrived, the King's personal guards, Glorfindel, Elurin and several Imladris elves were gathered in the hallway watching something that was going on in the room.
"Glorfindel, clear everybody out of this hallway immediately. The King's guards may also retire, for their Lord will be safe in my care."
He then put a hand on Elurin's shoulder.
"I want you to go fix a medium strength sedative tea and bring it back to this room as quickly as you can."
Elurin nodded then hurried away.
Elrond took a deep, calming breath then walked into the room. He was shocked at what he saw for Thranduil looked as if he was chasing something, his legs moving as if running, one hand clutching his chest and the other held out as if he was trying to catch something or touch someone. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat and his breathing was quick and raspy as if he had been running for some time. Elrond knew that the worst thing he could do would be to startle his friend out of his dream and so he did the next best thing. Laying one hand on the King's heart and the other hand on his forehead, the Noldor Lord closed his eyes and entered the mind of the King knowing that if he could see what the King was seeing and feel what he was feeling, perhaps his council would be more helpful.
It didn't take him long before he had seen all that he cared to and after he had, he took the confused King by the hand then turned and led him out of the darkened land of his nighttime terror. Thranduil gasped and opened his eyes, looking wildly around him, grasping two handfuls of blankets as if they were his sole connection to life and safety. Elurin came in with the tea and handed it to his Lord then quietly left the room.
After Thranduil had finally oriented himself and once more knew where he was, he took the offered teacup with shaking hands and drained it then sat back against the head of his bed with closed eyes until he felt the sedative in the tea begin to take effect. He sighed as he felt himself finally start to calm down then opened his eyes and looked at his friend.
"Well, what do you think, Elrond? Am I going crazy?"
He quickly averted his eyes as his fears and insecurities over what was happening to him filled his eyes with tears.
"No, mellon-nín, I do not think you are going crazy at all although I do want you to sleep and this time, I want you to rest. Tomorrow there will be plenty of time for talking."
Thranduil's eyes were getting heavy and he did not protest as Elrond helped him lay down then pulled the covers up to his shoulders. He was asleep before his friend had blown out the glow and left the room.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
Elrond pulled Glorfindel into the hallway so that their conversation would not disturb the now peacefully sleeping King.
"Something is wrong, Glorfindel, horribly, horribly wrong."
The golden-hair elf frowned.
"You have foreseen nothing, Elrond?"
After checking on the King one last time, the two began walking back down the hall.
"No, my friend, I have foreseen nothing, although after what I have been feeling and listening to Thranduil's dream then witnessing him going through such horror, my father's heart say that things may already desperate for both our sons."
"So you will send for her?" He asked although he already knew what his friend's answer would be.
"Yes, I go to send the message bird now."
He smiled before turning away to return to his own room.
"Then tell him I wish him good speed and a safe journey."
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
Elrond quickly wrote a short note then walked to the Aviary. He looked around until he found the large black falcon sitting on a perch in the back of the room watching him intently.
"Time to go to work, my friend. And by-the-way, Lord Glorfindel wishes you good speed and a safe journey."
He tucked the message into a waterproof pouch and attached it to the falcon's leg then after stroking the bird's head, opened the aviary window.
"Take this message to your Lady as quickly as you can and please convey my wishes to her for a safe and speedy journey home."
The falcon bobbed his head once as if in assent then sprang through the window and was soon swallowed up by the night.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
It was the deepest, blackest part of the night, a time when the creatures that held dear the hours between the setting of the sun and the beginning of the new day began to hunt. It was a nightly ritual that would assure both they and in some cases, their young, would continue for at least another day. Then predator and prey alike paused, testing the breeze and listening carefully for danger, for they had all sensed the presence of something else. Something large, dark, and swift was approaching and the land became silent - that silence creating a vacuum and causing the heightened senses of the night creatures to become hyperaware.
There was a rhythmic vibration in the earth and all the creatures felt it as whatever had disturbed the silence and their nightly rituals came closer. The creatures quickly hid themselves and waited patiently and in some cases fearfully for whatever was approaching to pass them by, and hopefully not notice them when they did. There were many silent witnesses to the passing of the five riders, all dressed in black and riding dark horses to better blend in with their surroundings. Moments later the last of the five had passed and once more the normal night sounds returned as nature resumed her natural rhythms and all was well once more.
8-) 8-) 8-) 8-)
moonlit-leaf: Welcome. Thank you for the kind words. It is always gratifying to know that what I write is being enjoyed. I hope you keep enjoying the story.