Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Medallion

Anger is not an emotion that normally flows long in the veins of the Eldar. But that day, the feeling did not wear for a long while after Legolas' 'visit' to the slayer of Gilloth. Legolas had stormed out past Aragorn, who had remained silent as he sensed his friend's mood. But both human and elf knew that certain unanswered questions would not remain as such for long.

"The interrogation went well?" Asked Aragorn quietly the next morning of Legolas. The prince had calmed down, but his eyes still burned with the intensity of his hatred for the prisoner in the dungeons.

"The prisoner is to be questions again."

"By you?" Aragorn asked with his brows raised.

Legolas frowned at his friend in slight annoyance. "By me. I'm going there directly."

Aragorn nodded slowly in understanding. "Again, I can see that yesterday's discussion went..." He paused, looking for the right word. "...well." He finished.

The elf did not respond right away, he had lost his bad temper and had every intention of questioning that woman with every air of calm clarity. He knew that yesterday, he had gone too far. He knew it, Aragorn knew it, and what was worse, that damned woman knew it. It would not happen again...but he refused to left that woman die until he found out exactly how she had gotten that medallion.

"My father is pressing for a quick trial. A quick death is too good for her, I still have too many questions that need answering."

Aragorn frowned, confusion lighting his grey eyes."Her?"

Legolas nodded, "Yes, the elf-slayer is a woman."

That caught the ranger rather by surprise. He blinked, wiping all emotion from his face. "A woman." He repeated slowly, the human fought down a shudder. "This is getting more twisted with every passing hour."

Legolas nodded in agreement, "I have to find out more Aragorn. There are too many secrets that will die otherwise with her if my father has his way." There was almost pleading in the elf's voice, pleading for his friend to understand.

"You should not burden yourself with this mellon nin." Aragorn said, "What does she know that could help you now?"

The elf pursed his lips, there were many memories, many secrets, most of which he hadn't wished to ever recall. But they all came flooding back so quickly that he hadn't had time to ignore them.

And for the millionth time, he cursed the day the Valar had breathed life into the slayer of Gilloth.

Fifty Years Previous

Legolas clucked encouragingly to his grey mount and the horse tossed his head in annoyance.

"A little father my friend." He whispered with a soft chuckle. The horse snorted but gave no other complaint at the lengthening of his master's journey.

Legolas smiled and rubbed the animal's neck in reassurance. The horse continued its flowing trot without another sound except for sighing every once in a while. Straightening his back, the elven prince turned to look back at the column of warriors that followed directly behind him on horseback. His task was a relatively simple one, to track down and destroy a group of marauding orcs that had made their presence known on Mirkwood's southern borders. A simple mission, and yet they had been searching for this group of orcs for nearly over a month now.

Soon it would be dusk and he, his men, and the horses would be able to rest. They stopped to sleep every other day, they covered more ground in this fashion. And while it effected the elves themselves very little, the strain was showing on the horses. There was no other way, every day they found the traces of the orcs before them. Destroyed trees and plant-life, villages which had suffered through attacks, and still they had been unable to catch their quarry. Soon they would be out of Mirkwood, and if they didn't catch them soon, the orcs would no longer be theirs to concern over. Then it would be up to his father to decide whether or not to continue their search on un-welcoming soil.

For over a month they had searched, and still they had come no closer to finding the orcs then the day his father had ordered them out here in the first place. And now the hunt was no longer just an order, it was personal. For even the warriors, as Legolas now knew, wanted with every bone in their body to find the monsters who were causing such a disturbance in their land. The attacks were too close to home, the victims too unprepared. The orcs would not be given a second chance, they would be dead.

Such malice was not an emotion familiar to the elves, but now it coursed hotly through the veins of his warriors, and through his own body as well. Orcs would not come out to fight honorably, they would aim for the weak, the defenseless, and it needed to stop.

The forest was already dark as they continued on, soon even the company's elven sight would not be able to keep trailing their quarry. Much could be lost in the dark. Legolas sighed as he halted the grey gelding. There was no point in continuing now.

"My Lord?" Came an inquisitive voice from behind him.

Legolas glanced over his shoulder at his second in command, a calm, black haired elf that contrasted sharply with his own light haired features.

"We'll stop here for the night Tathar, tell the others to dismount."

The elf nodded, "Yes Milord." He turned his mount and trotted back to the warriors. Legolas slid off his mount and the horse whinnied softly. Legolas smiled and patted his neck, "Yes my friend, we will stop now."

The horse nuzzled him affectionately and after one final caress, Legolas looked around. They had stopped in a small clearing, ideal to fit his men and the horses without having to separate among the dense foliage. Legolas pulled the bag which had been strapped to his mount's withers and then led the horse to the edge of the clearing. There was something strange about the clearing...something luring and something that urged him to be wary, though he did not know what. He let his horse graze and then set about to gathering wood for a fire. Then he stopped.

He glanced at the grey gelding, who had stilled with his head turned to the east, to where the wind was blowing. His ears rotated, straining for an unknown sound.

"What is it my friend?" Legolas asked soothingly, though the horse's sudden alertness made him frown. He could neither hear nothing to give him a cause for alarm...yet could he trust his won instincts so willingly? Legolas turned to the others in the company, and all were looking through the trees and at their mounts with the same puzzled expression. Something was not right. He gazed around the clearing, quickly taking in his surroundings with rapid elven senses. One thing that immediately caught his interest was that this clearing, and the path ahead shown no trace of the orcs that they had been tracking.

During their past month, the orcs had always left a trail behind. And now, there was no sign of even a broken branch. It was almost as if they had disappeared. But that was impossible, orcs were not skilled enough to hide traces of their existence so throughly. His grey mount called out in fright and the rest of the horses started at the sudden noise.

"Easy my friend." Legolas called, reaching out to the horse, but the gelding only flattened his ears and screamed in fear. "What is it?"

"Milord?" Called one of the warriors softly, Legolas turned to him, noticed with a deepening frown that the others were drawing arrows from their quivers and fitting them to their bows.

"Tathar?" Legolas called in reply.

The warriors were looking up into the tree tops, and Legolas never had a chance to draw even his ivory daggers before they attacked...dropping from the trees above. And as he watched the first land in front of him, he could only wonder in astonishment how they had surprised them all like this.

He would not stop Aragorn from accompanying him to the dungeons, but neither was he ready to reveal all to his friend concerning the woman that waited for him there. Aragorn had not pressed Legolas when they had started for the dungeons, and knew, with time, that his friend would tell him what was happening here. But that time would only come when Legolas knew for himself what was happening, and thus far, he seemed to know nothing.

The guards let him pass without question into the cell and he was met inside by the healer. The elf bowed to the human king and his own lord with grave respect before turning his attention to Legolas.

"The shoulder is set milord, but we've run into some complications-"

"Such as?" Legolas cut off impatiently, he had no desire to speak to this healer right now. He wanted to speak to the prisoner right now, and quickly.

"There was an inflammation before we set, the shoulder became swollen-"

"Did you set it?"

"Yes milord." The healer seemed surprised by either Legolas' short temper, his question, or possibly both. "But there was an infection of another older wound as well on the prisoner's side."

"What is the result of this?"

"Plainly milord, the prisoner now has a rather high fever, and the infection has caused some excessive bleeding."

"Can she still be questioned?"

The healer hesitated, "It is physically possible milord, but I don't know how much you'll get out of her." The healer took a step back to reveal the cot. Unlike his previous visit the day before, the woman was not seated defiantly upright on the edge of the cot. Now she was stretched out upon it with her arms and legs strapped to the wooden legs of the cot. Her shoulder was bandaged and her tunic torn to reveal a steaming cloth on the woman's side as well.

From behind him Legolas could hear Aragorn mutter a curse, but he reflexively ignored it. "Might I examine her?" Legolas heard him ask the healer.

The healer shot a tentative glance at his lord, but when Legolas gave no objection, he gave Aragorn soft permission. "There is a warm basin of water on the table, I was trying to draw out the infection."

Aragorn conversed softly with the healer again, but Legolas was no longer listening. If she died then there would be no need for an execution, and his questions would go unanswered with way. His gaze darkened, damn her! He approached the cot with cold indifference as she lay very still, her lungs heaving for air.

"Prince Legolas." She said hoarsely without opening her eyes. Her face was drenched with sweat and her dark hair was damp, and stuck to her pale skin like snakes. Her greeting did not startle him, though it did halt his approach. Her eyes opened, the blue clouded with her illness. She looked up at him, her lips set in a straight line. "To what do I owe this honor."

"I need answers." He said softly.

The woman did not flinch, nor do anything at all but sigh. "I knew you would return."

"To what name do you respond?" He asked coldly, nearing the cot once more now that she was off guard. She hesitated, looked up at him again as he stopped. A flame entered her clouded eyes and her lips twisted in distaste. "Saronedhel." She replied crisply.

The name made the anger he had worked all morning to control churn inside of him fiercely. The name meant Lover of Elves. "An interesting name of one of your occupation."

"It is your people who have put me in that occupation, is it not?" She replied, her voice sounding suddenly weary as she coughed and grimaced.

Legolas did not answer, he drew from his cloak the medallion, fighting back the memories which threatened to overcome him as he looked at it. He knew he would lose his serenity if he thought to long on how this murderer had gotten this medallion, his medallion. And right now, if he wished to get answers, he needed control.

"You say you are innocent. But can you deny being at Gilloth five years ago at the date of that village's slaughter?"

A pained expression passed over her features, which, except for the long scar running across the side of her face, were flawless and pale.

"Or that you were recognized by this medallion? A medallion which I know has no duplicate."

"How would you know that dear prince." The woman asked wearily, sighing and breathing deeply. "How can you go by face value alone?"

"Because I trust my instincts." He snapped, in no mood for this woman to question his motives.

"You have no reliable proof, no witnesses that can swear to your statement."

"Yes but-"

"No one who can claim to have seen the medallion made."

He heard Aragorn move closer to him, the room was silent except for the harsh breathing of the woman on the cot, Saronedhel, as she called herself.

"I know there is none like it." He said harshly, his emotions building up inside of him.

"How? How could you know? Were you present the day it was made?" She asked.

"No-"

"Then you are relying on face value. But then again, you seem to rely on such values often." If she was trying to bait him, it was working. Legolas fought to control his emotions, the fierce hatred he felt towards the sick assassin on the cot. In this room, he felt like a caged animal.

"I know there is no other like it." He growled.

"How do you know?" She pressed again softly.

Legolas could hear his ears ringing, forced hot tears back as he swallowed everything inside of him. "I know because that medallion... was my mother's." His voice cracked and he had to paused before continuing. He would not let this elf-slayer see him broken, would not let her have that satisfaction.

"Really? Can you rely on her word?"

"I have long since learned to trust the word of the dead." He replied bitterly.

There was a thick silence in the room, a silence broken by the stirring of the woman on the cot who had turned to look up at him.

"Of the dead?" She repeated.

Legolas' anger returned, he did not want nor need this woman's sympathy. "Yes, and she has been long dead." He paused, looked down at the smooth metal in his hand. "Where did you get this medallion?"

The soft look in the woman's eyes faded, and she sank back onto the cot. "It is none of your concern."

"I would say it is." Legolas said coldly, his anger building once more.

"Even so, I shall not tell you. I shall never tell you." She said softly. Legolas took a step toward her, his hands in tight fists when he felt a strong arm shoot out and stop him. It was Aragorn. His friend's grey eyes pleaded with him, their depths speaking to him wisdom that he could not handle right now. Legolas scowled and turned away as Aragorn knelt by the woman's side.

He could see how tense Legolas was as his friend turned away and, placing a hand on the wall, leaned against it. Aragorn sighed, turning to the woman and kneeling next to her. Her gently probed the bandages on her shoulder and her eyes opened in surprise. She was fading, the fever taking hold and delirium setting it. Whatever answer his friend wanted from her, he would not soon get it with her in this state.

Aragorn looked down, instinctively pulling back the cloth on her stomach and running his gaze over it with the eyes of a man who has seen and treated many a wound. Something clicked briefly in the back of his mind causing him to frown. She looked...familiar somehow...if such a thing were even possible. But what past connection could he of had with the assassin of Gilloth?

He could not think on it now, promising to give it further thought when he had the time. Later. He cautiously undid the bonds on her ankles and wrists, and was startled to look up and see her looking at him again. Her expression was soft, her eyes clouded further by her illness. A shadow of a smile passed over her lips.

"Zachary?" She whispered softly, before grimacing, coughing, and turning away from him again. The wound on her side was bleeding once more. He pressed bandages to it and reached for a fresh cloth. "Zachary...Talorta...the jump...too high..."Her words were jumbled.

"She's burning up." He murmured, not really caring whether or not Legolas really wanted to know how she was doing at all.

Aragorn felt a light touch on his arm and found himself looking into the concerned face of the healer. "I will take over from here milord...I believe you should go to Prince Legolas...he looks rather unwell."

Aragorn turned to look at his friend who was still turned away and leaning heavily on the wall. He nodded, "Yes...of course."

Now, I gave a few subtle hints in this chapter, don't know if anyone picked up on them, but you shall with time. What you should have all guess was who the assassin of Gilloth is. :) Anyway, I'm not allowed to respond to reviews, but thanks to everyone who has responded and a million thank you's to my beta.

Also, I am taking liberties with Legolas' mother. My reasons will eventually be revealed, but in the mean time, please don't flame me for it, because there is a bit more to the medallion mystery. :)

I have become a very proud authoress, in two days short of a month, Safe in My Arms had reached a total of 3561 hits! We've also been added to two C2 community archives. I am so very proud and I have all of you to thank for it! Thank you!

Until next time...

TO BE CONTINUED...