Chapter 5
RELEASE ME PLEASE!
"I've returned to the light. I love. I care. I am an elf! Help me, Valar!"That cold laughter again.
"No, My Lady. You can never return from the darkness."
I opened my eyes as the water dripped from me. Salt spattered my wounds and I nearly screamed again at the pain. My vision blurred, I looked at my torturer. He was a tall elf, slender, like a young tree.
His eyes were full of disgust.
But then, if I was in his place, I would have been disgusted too. This was what I had become. But if I could show them that I had compassion, that I was not the lawless, cowardly Orc I had been, they must be able to realize who I had been…
Who I was.
And my husband…
I lowered my gaze, tucking my chin into my chest so that I would not have to look at the way the elf was staring at me.
It was then that I saw the small glint of silver around my neck.
The water must have washed it free from the mud I had put on myself before the battle to blend in with the night.
Memories again stirred within me, and I moved slightly, exposing more of the silvery chain. A beautiful ring stared back at me. Not silver, like the chain, but much more valuable. Mithril.
My husband had given it to me on our wedding night. I had to tell him…
Remembering, tears came.
"What has the Shadow commanded you to do? What is its purpose in Dol Guldur?" the familiar question asked harshly in a familiar voice aroused me from my daydreams, and I looked up again.
Thranduil had ventured into the dungeons again. He had come to see me again. Perhaps he felt some connection…?
His handsome features still stunned me after what seemed like an age, and I knew that our son must have been grown by now. I tried to open my mouth, but the salt and the dryness stopped my jaw muscles from working, and with pain in my heart, I saw the look of hatred in my husband's eyes.
I could not answer.
A rising rage formed in his eyes, and as I tried as hard as I could to explain what had happened… everything that had happened to me, to us… he grabbed me by the collar, nearly wrenching me from the torture wheel, and screamed, "Damn you, you vile creature! My son is near death, and still you do not answer!"
Only then, did I understand.
"Your… son?" the words choked themselves from my lips before I even realized I had spoken them. In the woods, under the influence of war and pain, I had, without knowing, harmed my only flesh and blood.
I had driven my sword through his stomach. The elf that had appeared so tall and commanding… it was my son. Gathering up the brief memories I had of him on the dark battlefield, like cupping water in my bare hands, I recalled his face.
So handsome… like his father…
And I had wounded him.
Perhaps even killed him.
From this, I looked again into my husband's eyes, saw the hatred, anger, and pain there, and once again, turned away to my battered body.
"No, My Lady. You can never return from the darkness."
The words echoed through me, resounding into the very depths of my dark, damned soul, invading what was left of my heart.
What good would it do to tell them that this was me? That I had been ravaged by Orcs then tortured and brought so close to the edges of death that this torture with the elves seemed nothing in comparison? That I was forever in this horrid and disgusting body? That I could turn, if not now, then in a year, a century, a millennium, back to the vile thing I had been?
Better to let them believe that I was dead and this thing that they were torturing now was just another foul creature…right?
Thranduil…
Frustration tore through me as I realized that no matter how much I threatened this Orc, it would never tell me the truth. Perhaps they had some sense of bravery or courage that I had never known, or perhaps this thing just did not know.
It did not matter to me anymore.
My son was waiting, perhaps at the end of his life, and I could not waste anymore of the precious time I had left with him on an Orc. It was time to put the damned thing out of its misery.
As it looked at me with its clouded eyes of darkness, I turned away, hating death, and yet, happy to administer it where it was deserved. "Execute it," I breathed the words through gritted teeth to the prison-ward. "I have no more use of it."
Making for the door, I heard the assent from the subject, and the clash of metal as he drew a blade from his large inventory. Like all executions, it would be quick and painless, and nothing would be remembered except that I had taken an Orc into question.
It was the way it was supposed to be, and yet… I could not bear to look at the death, though I had seen so many worse in my lifetime.
As the sickening cracks of blade cutting through skin, muscle, artery, and bone came, I felt bile reach the back of my throat, and in surprise, I swallowed.
A weak stomach was for humans. An immortal never knew the ailments of illness and nausea.
I turned again, facing the headless body of the Orc on the torture wheel, crimson mixed with the clear water of the river, and my stomach churned once more. Closing my eyes, I brought my head down, and opened them again, looking at the dirt floor where the immobile, ugly head now lay.
Dark pools of ruby were already feeding the hungry pockets of earth. The head lay on its side, the face towards the left, and the top of the head towards me. With a strange, dark fascination, I stared, unable to turn my head away from grotesque spectacle. It was then I felt something within me wither and die, and my breath caught my throat.
A glint on the floor, nearly drowned in the sea of vermilion caught my eye then, and I bent down, shifting the sticky river of blood with the mud, and clutching the tiny silver chain that was buried in it.
It had fallen from the Orc's neck, and as I put it to the light, my throat and stomach tightened as I fought to breathe. Unknown wells of water pooled over my eyes and fell, unable to contain itself.
A single mithril ring dangled at the end of the chain, exactly the same as the one I wore around my neck. It shone, no less bright than it had been so long ago on our marriage night. For years, I had searched in vain for it, hoping to find it again for some trace of her, and yet, to no avail. Now here, where I had least expected it…
I looked again to the severed head on the ground. Could it be…?
No.
It was ridiculous. She was dead. She had been for a very long time. A creature much like this one must have seized it as part of its spoils and through other ungainly acts, it had reached this creature. That was the only logical explanation.
The irony of the fact was staring me in the face, and I had almost taken the other route through blindness.
Fate had a cruel way of playing tricks on one.
I turned to go back to my son, still in the healing ward, but my eyes fell on the chain around my own neck.
It could not be.
And yet, as more tears formed behind my eyes, I could not help but think, What if?
THE END
This story has taken about a month to write, but actually, it popped into my head in about two seconds when I was in bed one night. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and given me critiques and advice about writing. Also, thanks to the 23 people that put me on their fave author's list and the 18 that put me on their author alert list.
Thanks so much, and a very big cyber hug to Syen for being so funny and a great internet buddy!