Black Eyes

Chapter Fifteen: Prince of Spades

by Capella

A/N: It took a good long while coming out, but honestly, are any of you really surprised at this point?

twilight: My Legolas seems to have a penchant for growing extra limbs when necessary, huh? And the stuff with Feanor I'm still trying to figure out, so it may be in later chapters...but, it may not.

I have a reply to Kat at the bottom of this story.

Review, please, because I am a gigantic review whore.

"Through darkest mists,

With stoutest boasts,

He thrusts his fists against the posts

And still insists he sees the ghosts."

- Anonymous tonguetwister

"Haldir!"

Loud, intrusive voices. They hurt. The hands shaking his shoulders seemed hardly less cruel.

"Wake up!"

The voice was shrill, familiar. Brought memories of hands touching him under different circumstances, with a pair of bright eyes watching. He cracked an eye open to make sure it was the same one he remembered, but the light seared through the back of his skull and he shut his eye again. As the skin of his face stretched, he felt a tiny sharp pain and felt wet warmth trickle down into his parted mouth, which he was too tired to close.

"Why is he still here?"

"He must have been too injured to make it the rest of the way to his destination." A different voice, that, deeper and calming, familiar all the same. "The fierce ride here, with his hurts, was not good to him."

"I tried to keep him in bed, I swear to God." The voice was getting more desperate now. "He's just a stupid idiot. He wouldn't stay. I swear to God I tried to make him stay."

His breath coming fast and shallow, he shifted slightly, trying to get them to realize that he was capable of moving, but that movement alerted him rather painfully to the jabbing in his side that felt dangerously like a few broken ribs. Blood slowly filled his mouth, and it took all of his strength to swallow it. A little bit dribbled over his lips. He coughed weakly.

He tried to talk and tell the voices that he needed to leave urgently, that he could not stay while they debated over his state of health, but his head was spinning that he could not even think to form the words. He shifted again a little and moaned again when that set off hundreds of stabbing, aching pains all over his body. A hand laid itself gently on his forehead.

"Rest, Haldir."

The hand was cool and soothing, smooth, like the speaker's voice. He tried to protest but could not find the strength.

Sleep was swift in coming.

Draco stared down at Haldir, leaning against one of the small houses closest to the docks; he had apparently sat down to rest for a moment and not gotten back up. His horse grazed lazily nearby, casting Haldir a baleful glance every once in a while as if to chide him for the injury done himself.

Thranduil looked up at Draco from where he knelt on the ground next to Haldir, his hand smeared lightly with blood from where he had touched Haldir's shirt when attempting to wake him from his sleep. His face was grim.

"His eyes were closed as he slept," he said, and pressed his lips together into a thin white line. "Whoever injured him was thorough."

"Harry," Draco said softly. Thranduil was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was tight.

"The one who is with my son."

Draco had nothing to say to that, but felt disbelief once again that Harry could have done this. The Savior of the Wizarding World - as much as Harry loathed that title - had killed an entire village, beat Haldir to the point of death, and kidnapped a king's son.

The reason was irrelevant. As much as he disliked Legolas, he had to be found and Harry had to be stopped from accomplishing - whatever he was attempting to accomplish. Draco had already steeled himself to Harry's death, accepting the fact that if he or Thranduil would not kill Harry, there was a line a mile long who would gladly do the task for them.

Haldir moaned a little and shifted, his eyelashes fluttering, before he was still again.

"We cannot possibly take him with us as he is," Draco said, and heard the desperation in his own voice, knowing already what he wanted Thranduil to say.

"We can and we will." Thranduil looked grim. "If you have forgotten, there is no one alive here to care for him."

Draco had not forgotten.

"This will not work."

"Be quiet."

Legolas shifted positions, glaring up at Harry, who stood at the bow of the ship watching the Long Isle slowly pass by. His black hair hung in lank waves to his neck, thin and stringy from the spraying salt of the ocean.

"You have a prince of Mirkwood with his hands bound sitting on the deck of the ship and you expect to be able to get into Valinor?"

Harry looked at him with green eyes that were entirely too piercing, smiled beatifically, and turned to stare again at the approaching shore.

Legolas shifted positions again. He had finally realized the weakness coursing through his body that he had worked so hard to ignore. The lack of food, sleep, and the constant worry had finally deteriorated his body to the breaking point, where he had to labor for each breath and fight to keep from falling into a sleep from which he feared he would not wake. He wondered sometimes why Harry was not similarly affected.

"You do not have to do this, Harry," he said softly, but this time it came out sounding forced and tired, hopeless. Legolas had said that and many other things many times before. None had worked. He did not know why he kept trying.

Harry looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Are you purposely being obtuse?" he asked incredulously. "Perhaps I should have brought Haldir instead. He would have provided more of an intellectual challenge." He smiled coldly, and Legolas's insides crawled in aversion. "But I wanted you more. Much more. A puppet prince, to dance when I want, pretty and useless, but entertaining." He looked amused, but there was something odd in his eyes, something that said that he couldn't believe what he was saying. "And yes, I must do this. I'm afraid you do not understand near as much as you pretend you do." He turned back to his study of the ocean. His next words were soft, so much so that Legolas had to lean a little closer to hear and still was not sure of what he heard. He was not sure if Harry even knew he had said them.

"I want to be as free as much as you."

"Harry -" he said, and willed Harry to respond - to respond as if he still knew his own name.

After a long moment, Harry turned his green, green eyes on Legolas, but the movement was slow and there was such a foreign look in Harry's eyes that it was frightening, almost.

And gods, but the Long Isle was slowly passing them by on their right, and Harry was showing no signs of stopping. It was obvious what is goal was. Valinor.

"I think I'll almost miss you when you're gone, Legolas," Harry said, and Legolas tensed as if he expected to be attacked that very instant. Harry answered his unspoken question, but this time there was no teasing tone in his voice.

"Our journey together is going to end very soon, dear Legolas," Harry said softly, gazing at Legolas almost sadly. "You know I'm going to kill you."

"Who are you?" Legolas whispered. Harry laughed, his somber mood dissipated in the space of a few seconds, and spread his arms wide, taking two steps back until he hit the prow of the ship.

"Who am I?" Harry repeated, laughing, shaking his head. "God, but you're pathetic, Legolas. I know what you want. You sit there and worry your pretty little head that maybe it really is me doing all these things to you, but then you relax because you realize that it has to be someone else because the Harry you know would never do all those things; he would never kill and rape and have ambitions that don't involve you."

Harry smiled as if Legolas were a little child, and Legolas refused to acknowledge the wetness on his own face as Harry continued.

"You really must wake up, Legolas," Harry said, walking over and grabbing Legolas's chin not ungently. Legolas jerked his head out of Harry's grasp and Harry straightened, grinning. "It really is me, just maybe a little improved. I still remember everything, if that's what I need to prove it to you. I remember my relatives, my cupboard, my fat-arsed cousin, my meatbag uncle, my first Hogwarts letter, Hedwig, Platform Nine and Three Quarters, my first Quidditch game, my first kiss from Cho, my first time with Draco -"

Harry continued, and Legolas stared up at him with involuntary tears running down his cheeks, blurring his vision until Harry was nothing more than a dark silhouette against the sun. He looked away as Harry kept talking, watching the shores of Valinor approaching fast, and tried to tone out what Harry was saying, because somehow it hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced in his long life.

"Why?" he asked softly, when Harry had finally stopped for a breath.

"I changed," Harry answered just as quietly, but there was a hint of a smirk lurking in the corners of his mouth. "Maybe it was during my stay in Mordor when you raped me, or maybe it was sometime after that. People change, Legolas," he said, and the smirk emerged. "You're just too innocent for your own good." He reached down to touch Legolas's cheek lightly. Legolas could not find the strength to pull away, and endured the touch until Harry stepped back to the front of the boat.

"Yes, Legolas," Harry answered, even quieter. "I'm still here." Then he grinned wickedly, his green, green eyes glinting. "But if I was still just Harry, could I do this?" He didn't move, and Legolas stared at him, tense, waiting for - something.

And then suddenly a soft phantom finger brushed gently across his lips, and another hand smoothed over the front of his tunic. Legolas's eyes widened, and he twisted his wrists in his bonds, squirming in an attempt to get the hands off. Shivers went down his spine.

"Harry -" he said, hating the hoarseness of his voice. "Stop."

"Could I do this?"

A wet tongue explored the crevasse of his ear, and then a mouth sucked gently on the pointed tip of it until Legolas shuddered. A hand still caressed his cheek gently, and the other hand had moved to rest lightly on his thigh.

Legolas shut his eyes so he would not have to look at Harry's smirking face as the hand on his face slid down his chest, and lower. He caught his cry behind his teeth, and it came out a strangled, tortured moan.

"Don't resist me, Legolas," Harry said softly as the hands slid over his body, and worst of all was the surprising gentleness of the fingers that reminded him so much of Harry before this had all started.

He refused to make a sound the entire time, his only reaction the arching of his spine and a low breath that might have carried a whimper as he came.

When the attack came, exhausted as he was, he did not stand a chance.

He opened his eyes to see Harry smiling down at him, and the smile was not kind.

"Imperio."

Fingers delved into his consciousness before he could even think of trying to put up a fight, and he cried out in despair. He could feel Harry chuckling in his mind. He tried to move, tried to stand, but he knew it was useless. He remembered the last time this spell had been put on him - but oddly, unlike the last time, he could still have coherent thought.

Good job, Legolas.

The voice came from inside his head and sounded faintly amused.

It's a new level of control, just for your enjoyment. I get to control you, but I'll let you have your thoughts. I really wouldn't want to miss your anguish as I force you to kill your unsuspecting brethren.

What?

Look, Legolas. There's the shore of Valinor.

Legolas moved only his eyes until they gazed upon the shore.

It was so beautiful that Legolas's heart ached. Gleaming white shores, the water a clear turquoise-blue. They had skirted Tol Eressea to the left, and now the mountain range Pelori loomed in front of him, so tall that the snowcapped tips disappeared into the clouds. One mountain in particular reached taller above the rest, and Legolas knew it to be Amon Uilos, the holy mountain Taniquetil, the dwelling home of Manwe and Varda. He wondered if they were watching the little ship as it floated past and he wanted to cry out so badly that he almost broke Harry's hold.

They already know, Harry said in his mind, sounding amused still. Did you think Ulmo would not tell them? They will wait to see what we choose to do. They will not risk your life. You must be beloved to them. Now Harry sounded contemplative. Perhaps they have some other reason for letting us do as we will.

Legolas refused to beg. It felt as if he was looking through another's eyes - he couldn't move, and he knew that if Harry ordered him to stop breathing he would have to obey.

Not yet, Harry whispered in his mind, and Legolas felt like shuddering at the soft, sibilant promise he heard in those words; and then there was no more words, and Legolas sensed Harry moving away to wait near the front of the ship.

The mountains moved slowly past Legolas's vision, and when Taniquetil finally left his sight he could have wept. Legolas closed his eyes so he would not have to see the shores of Valinor pass, knowing now that he would die shortly after he would step foot on their shores.

Hours or minutes could have passed before Harry next spoke in his mind.

I'm going to land the boat on the shore, he said. Look at me.

Against his will Legolas looked. Harry's face was flushed with excitement.

There are two elves on the shore,the guards they station along the mountains to watch the sea. We will land on the shore. I will incapacitate one guard. While the other guard is distracted, you will overpower him and bind his arms. Kill the other.

No, Legolas whispered, horrified. I will not.

You will. Harry sounded smug. And don't worry about how weak you are. The spell will give you the ability to do as I tell you. Are you ready?

I would rather die, Legolas snarled, but even as the boat's bottom scraped against the beach, Legolas felt himself flying to his feet.

Eager, Legolas? Let me unbind your hands first.

Harry walked around him and Legolas felt the ropes fall from his wrists. Harry's touch felt like silk on his skin. Harry pressed the rope into one of Legolas's hands.

Go.

"Ho, traveler!" one of the elves shouted, obviously recognizing Legolas's silvan heritage. The guards were relaxed as they walked casually towards the boat, and Legolas's mind shied away from what he was about to do.

He heard a whisper from the boat and suddenly one of the elves, a brown-eyed elf, dropped unconscious to the ground. The other elf, a blonde, blue-eyed Sindar who seemed younger than his companion, rushed forward with a cry.

"Amdin?" the younger elf asked, kneeling down next to the other elf. Legolas stepped up next to him, feeling as if he was in a dream.

Do it. Now.

No!

He cried out mentally, anguished, even as he somehow found the strength to grab both of the younger elf's arms.

"What are you doing?" the elf asked in astonishment, but there was no fear in his eyes, only surprise. Legolas began binding his arms, and the elf's eyes widened as he started to struggle.

"Let me go," he said, angrier now, but somehow Legolas managed to hold on to him as he twisted and squirmed, trying to break Legolas's grip. Finally Legolas managed to tie the knot on the rope, and he pushed the elf to the ground. The elf twisted around until he was lying on his back.

"Well done, Legolas!"

Harry trotted off the boat, grinning, holding his wand in one hand. Legolas hadn't even realized that Harry had brought it. The elf's eyes narrowed as they focused on Harry.

"I was warned about you," he said quietly. "That's why there were two of us at the guard post instead of one."

"That didn't work so well, did it," Harry said cheerfully, and held out a knife to Legolas.

Take it.

Legolas gripped it in one hand, staring blankly ahead even as he screamed silently in his mind.

"Are you going to kill me?" the elf asked stonily, but it was Harry who answered him.

"What's your name?"

The elf blinked but showed no other reaction. "Lolindir," he said grudgingly after a few moments. Harry gave him a beatific smile.

"And is that your brother? Legolas, what did Lolindir call his brother?"

Tell me his name.

"Amdin," Legolas answered flatly. Lolindir glared up at Legolas with clear, pale-blue eyes.

"The Valar warned us you may be a prisoner, son of Thranduil, but we were never told that you played the part of willing accomplice."

Harry chuckled quietly.

Makes it even better, doesn't it, dear Legolas, that he thinks you're doing this of your own free will. I can't wait to see his reaction when you kill his brother.

No.

Kill him now.

No!

It was a measure of his strength that Legolas managed a choked cry as he drove the dagger deep into Amdin's chest. The elf came out of his unconsciousness with a high-pitched moan of pain. Blood splattered over Legolas's hands as he withdrew the knife.

Lolindir cried out in elvish, and even through the spell, tears rose in Legolas's eyes at the words.

Ai, melda onooro!

Oh, beloved brother!

Legolas stood, face expressionless even as Harry walked over and grasped his wrists, bringing Legolas's fingers up to his mouth and kissing each one. Legolas could see the mocking in Harry's eyes as he kissed, almost worshipfully, each bloody finger.

"Look, Legolas," Harry whispered, blood on his lips, as he dropped Legolas's wrists, motioning towards Lolindir.

Look what you have done.

Against his will Legolas looked at Lolindir on the ground. Shining tears ran from both clear blue eyes as the elf wept silently.

"Saes, dago nin," the elf whispered over and over as he cried.

Please, kill me.

Harry glanced at Legolas. Tell me what he said.

"He wishes for me to kill him," Legolas said softly. Lolindir looked up at him with grieving, hate-filled eyes. Harry looked contemplatively down at the young elf.

"Not yet," he promised. "First I need your help."

"I would rather die then help you," Lolindir snarled, managing even with his hands bound behind his back to twist into a sitting position.

Harry's eyes narrowed a little in irritation. He kneeled beside the elf and spoke quietly into Lolindir's pointed ear, so quietly that even Legolas could not hear. Whatever Harry said made Lolindir's eyes widen.

"There is no way you could know that," Lolindir breathed. "How do you -"

Harry smiled. "Does it matter how I know?" he asked. The elf, still staring incredulously at Harry, shook his head slowly. Harry's smile grew approving. "All you need to know is that she will die, painfully, if you do not do as I say."

Legolas saw Lolindir's limbs trembling. "Caro den i innas lin," he said, voice shaking. Make it thy will.

"Very good."

What did you tell him?

Only that I know his family, and I know of his elder sister who still lives in Middle-earth in Lothlorien.

Legolas did not question how Harry had come to that knowledge. Nothing came as a surprise to him now, nothing except for the grief that washed over him as he looked at Amdin's lifeless body; he had expected - hoped - to be numb to death by now. He had accepted his own already.

That is well. Perhaps you will not fight me, then, when it is your time to die.

Leave my mind.

Why? I rather like it here.

Suddenly, Harry's voice lost all its teasing tone; he sounded serious, almost nervous, excited. Now, Legolas. I want you to tell Lolindir to show us the Door of Night.

Legolas felt himself tense even under the spell. The pieces fit together so suddenly and perfectly that he felt as if he would scream.

You - you monster -

Stop trying to figure me out, Legolas. Thinking isn't your strong point.

Harry, you do not know what you are doing! Legolas felt frantic. No matter what changes Harry had gone through, nothing had prepared him for what Harry wanted to do now. Had he fallen so far?

I know exactly what I'm doing. Stop resisting me and tell Lolindir what I have told you. Now.

"Lolindir," Legolas said, his voice cracking under the strain of resisting Harry. Lolindir kept his eyes on his brother's body. "You must lead us to the Door of Night."

Lolindir's head whipped towards Legolas, his mouth open. He shook his head in muted denial, his eyes shocked and wide and scared.

Legolas. Remind him of his sister.

"Your sister, Lolindir."

"N-no -" Lolindir said, voice choked.

Tell Lolindir that she will die painfully. I will make sure she stays alive for days before she dies.

"She will die after days of suffering, Lolindir."

There was a long silence.

"It's - it's to the west." Lolindir squeezed his eyes shut. "You must skirt the Pelori around to the rear of Valinor. Once you reach the very back of the island, you will find Earendil and his ship Vingliot guarding the entrance to the door. The only times to bypass him is in the morning and the evening, when he and his ship sail around the world as the morning and evening star. There are words - that you must speak -" Lolindir stopped, biting his lip as if unsure whether to continue. "You must say, 'Le nallon si di-nguruthos,' and the doors will open." His eyes opened, and he glared at Legolas and Harry with a renewed vigor. "But you must not go. Those words must only be spoken by the Valar at the due time. He must not be released!"

"Don't worry, Lolindir," Harry said, smiling lazily. "I only wish to speak with him."

Ask him whether it is wiser to take those two horses or to travel by boat. Tell him not to lie.

Why must I do this?

It is not my fault that you suffer beautifully, Legolas.

"Which is the faster way, Lolindir - the horses or the ship? Do not lie."

Lolindir's face was a picture of misery. "Horses," he murmured so softly that Legolas could barely hear.

"Perfect," Harry said cheerfully. "Lolindir, get on your horse. Legolas and I will ride the other."

"What?" Lolindir's eyes were round. "But - I thought it was only you who would travel to the door -"

"Just to make sure you haven't lied, little Lolindir," Harry said.

Help him get onto the horse.

Legolas did as he was told mechanically, hoisting Lolindir up onto the dainty brown mare.

Retie his hands in front of his body. We don't want him falling of the horse, do we?

"You do not know what you are doing," Lolindir hissed at Legolas as Legolas worked to retie his hands. "You will both die there. Only one of great power can enter those doors."

"We will both die," Legolas answered softly, his voice almost breaking as he betrayed the spell if only for a few moments. "It will be a blessing."

Don't disobey me, little elf, Harry said, sounding a mixture of amused and annoyed. Get on the horse.

It is truth. You will die the minute you lay hands on the door.

Harry swung up behind Legolas and dug his feet into the stallion's heels, motioning for Lolindir to precede them. Lolindir's mare trotted forward.

I have power enough to enter.

Legolas felt a little shiver run down his spine. Never before had he even dreamed that he would head towards the mightiest dweller in Arda, first son of Iluvatar.

Yes, Harry whispered in his mind, sounding almost reverent. Melkor.

Morgoth, Legolas thought in despair, as Harry's arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Death awaited him at that black door. It was a measure of his hopelessness that he welcomed it.

A/N: Well, that was depressing. Also, thank you to the encyclopedia of Arda, which helped me immensely so that I don't misspell words like Taniquetil. Review review review!

A/N 2: To Kat, who basically called me immoral, wishy-washy, and comparable to a racist.

Let me tell you something about wishy-washy. If you skip along in life never questioning your beliefs, then I pity you. You need to question your beliefs. If you question them, spend a period of time thinking about them, then return to your belief as before, stronger than ever, then that is better than just merrily never questioning ANYTHING.

And when the goddamn hell did I single out a "certain group of people" and was all mean to them? I assume you're talking about gay people here. Do you see me at anti-gay rallies or lobbying for an anti-gay marriage amendment? No. All I did was withdraw from writing slash because I was having a conflict about whether it was right for me, as a Christian, to write it or not.

From now on, if you want to call me a bigot, fuck off instead. I don't give a flying rat's ass if I made you angry. If people changing their minds makes you angry, then go live as a hermit.