Chapter 13

Love or Die

"I can't…take this, Legolas. Knowing that it was Átniir who betrayed the king, Lord Elrond, you…and me. I can't live with it, mellon-nin, I don't know how!"

"Daurrè- Daurrè, easy," Legolas murmured, leading his friend away from the balcony's edge. "You've read all this penned in her own hand?"

"I had my suspicions about what was really upsetting her all this time," he sighed dejectedly. "But I didn't know for sure till now. I wanted to believe she was innocent."

"But Daurrè, you read it for yourself; Átniir was forced into doing this. To protect the ones she loved…loves."

Daurrè shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes, and looked away. "There's more. And perhaps, once you know it, you won't be so quick to forgive her, Legolas. In her journal, she spoke of Mornaeg's plans, and he's- determined to bring you back to his fortress in Mirkwood, and she says that he's going to use your friend Estel as bait. He's found some way to lure him outside of the tunnels so he can catch him."

Legolas groaned, burying his head in his hands. Would Mornaeg ever relent?

"Legolas- I don't know, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do."

"You can come with me, my friend."

"And where are you going, young prince?" That was Thranduil, who up till now, stood quietly in the doorway with Elrond and the twins. Legolas looked up at him.

"Father, it's time I face my past. I'm going to Mandossea."

"Do not act out of pride, my son," the king urged, coming to stand in front of the prince. "This elf has taken much from you, but do not use that as a weapon."

"I do not go for myself, Father," Legolas promised, just barely above a whisper. "I've seen the darkest side of Mornaeg all ready. But for Aragorn…for Edren, for you, for Daurrè. For the ones I love, this horror will never end until I do something. And I think- that I am the only one who can."

"You cannot defeat one so mad, Legolas."

"I cannot let him survive either, Father."

Thranduil paled. "You intend- to do away with him?"

Legolas was surprised by the response at first, but then a memory-one that seemed like such a long time ago now-stirred in his mind. He sighed, and stepped closer to his father, looking up into the eyes just slightly higher than his own. "Yes. And with him, Bengwiil." The king stiffened. "Father, it cannot change anything. It can't bring Naneth back."

"How do you know!" he shouted suddenly. "You don't know, you know nothing of this plant but what has been told you. Only what it can't do, but what about what it can do?"

"I know this, I know that your beloved, my mother is gone! She's gone, Father, you can't bring her back, and she'd be ashamed if she knew-" the king's hand struck the side of Legolas' face before either could think, and the prince's breath caught, his head snapping to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas could see Elrond step forward, but he began to speak first.

"You're still using it." Thrnaduil's eyes were the only answer he need. "I don't believe you, Father, you're still using it! Are you mad!"

"It's the only way I can see Meltha!"

"She's not coming back!" Legolas ducked a second blow, standing again and grabbing his father's shoulder, as his voice dropped low. "But Father I'm still here." He didn't wait for a reply, but grabbed Daurrè by the hand and left the balcony behind him swiftly. Slowly, Elrond and his sons followed, leaving the king alone.

- - - - -

The prince and his sole companion pounded through the thick of Mirkwood, aiming directly for where Leoglas was pretty sure Mandossea was. In his head, he could still hear Elrond's parting words:

"The light of the Valar go with you, Legolas. I will join you in Mirkwood with the strength of your father's kingdom with me as soon as I may. Be brave, son of Thranduil."

He had mounted his horse, there'd been a moment of silence, and then Elrohir…

"Your father will see, Legolas. He'll love you again."

The prince of Mirkwood smiled, and called over his shoulder, "We're getting close, Daurrè."

- - - - -

"He's not afraid of you, you know."

"Who?"

"Legolas. He's not scared of you. He isn't a little boy anymore, Mornaeg."

The elf eyed Aragorn with a criticism. "What, do you think he was ever scared of what I would do to him? Do you think he ever feared for his own life? No, little Estel. Legolas fears me because he knows I can take things away from him: his happiness, his security…" he ran a hand down the human's face, and Aragorn resisted the urge to recoil. "I can even take his greatest friend and best reason for living. Would be a pity to lose that, wouldn't it, Estel?"

Aragorn wasn't going to reply, but something came to his mind that he could not hold back. "But he knows." Mornaeg's response was a raised eyebrow. "He knows I won't leave him."

The elf smirked. "We'll see." Aragorn heard the clatter outside the door only milliseconds before Mornaeg pressed his dagger to the human's throat, hauling him to his feet, away from the orcs who had been clinging to him. "Drop it!"

There was a long moment of deafening silence in the dim room before Mornaeg repeated the demand. "Drop it now, Lindo, unless you want to lose your human friend all ready!"

WHAM! THUD.

Legolas stood in the doorway, now emptied of its door, bow and arrow held loosely at his sides. Without even looking around the room, he dropped both weapons on the floor, and held his hands, palms up, in the air. "You win."

As the orcs behind came flooding in on either side of him, being quick to start tying him up, Legolas only ever looked at Mornaeg and Aragorn. "What, no fight, little prince? How disappointed I am."

"I came of my own volition this time. Why would I fight?" One of the orcs behind him gave the elf a violent shove to the center of the room, but Legolas steadied himself. "You and I need to talk, Tiro-Lim."

"We certainly do." Mornaeg looked at him unsmilingly, making sure he wasn't going anywhere, and then tossed Aragorn back to the orcs. The human's forehead impacted harshly with the wood floor before the orcs gathered him up again, and uncertainty shadowed Legolas' face. A thin line of blood trailed down the side of his head, but he seemed all right.

"So. Let's talk, Lindo!" Mornaeg grabbed Legolas' bound hands and dragged him to the wall. Lifting the elf's arms over his head, he looped the rope around a branch leading across the ceiling, securing it and stepping back to look Leoglas in the eye. The prince was still unsettlingly calm as Mornage spat, "What have you to say to me?"

Legolas' voice, though strained by his awkward position, was none-the-less resolute. "Let Aragorn and Edren go, they don't have anything to do with our past, Mornaeg."

He sniffed, "Edren may go, but the human stays."

"Very well, if I cannot convince you."

"Thurzak?" One of the larger of the orcs lumbered up to Mornaeg's side, wheezing through a disproportioned nose. "Take the dark-haired elf to the Bengwiil tents and have him tend to the weeds down there, will you?" He flashed a steely smile at Legolas as the orc dragged Edren to his feet and shoved him towards the door. "Happy, Lindo?

Legolas gazed coolly back, stealing a quick encouraging glance to Edren, though the elf, who had fallen silent about an hour ago, seemed as though he was in shock, and didn't return the gaze.

The door slammed dully, and Legolas' eyes were back on Mornaeg. "You will never find peace. You know that, don't you? Killing a million men would never return your brother."

"Perhaps not, but it gives me something to do."

"Do you so lack any respect for Minaeg's memory?"

Mornaeg was furious at that. "Do you honestly think that-"

"Let me finish!"

"You have nothing to say-"

"There's more than you know-"

"-that I haven't all ready heard millions-"

"If you could only listen to me!"

"I don't need-"

"Just listen!"

They seemed to be speaking at the same time, or at staggered times. "Just listen to me!" Legolas repeated, vehement. Miraculously, Mornaeg stopped speaking. "I'll take you back."

"What?"

"I can forgive you, Mornaeg. There are people who are still capable of caring about you."

"You don't care."

"I do, Mornaeg, and my father has all ready forgiven you."

"Don't you lie to me, Lindo!" He struck the prince soundly across the face, cutting his lip. "Don't pretend like you care, don't say it's all right because you've forgiven me, don't act like I'm some sentimental fool!"

"I have not yet found it in me, but I can forgive you."

"You can't even forgive yourself!"

Silence. Aragorn's eyes fixed on his friend. "What do you-"

"As though you know anything about forgiveness, Lindo. I don't suppose you've told your friends what you did? What you're still trying to forget you did." Mornaeg's slender hand patted Legolas' chest pointedly.

Legolas' face had become frighteningly pale. "How…could you possibly know-"

"Well, maybe you didn't tell Edren, but he knows. I mean- he knew." He smiled in pseudo pity. "It's in his journals, Lindo, surely you read them?"

"'Tisn't polite to read private thoughts of others," Aragorn put in coolly.

Mornaeg's gaze hardened on the human. "Estel, would you like to know what it is little Lindo has been hiding from you?"

"Mornaeg, this is between you and me."

"We're beyond that!" he shouted back, "Thanks to you, this involves a lot more than just you and me, Lindo, it involves all the ones you care about." He rushed towards the prince, knife drawn.

"What are you doing!" Aragorn shouted, lunging against the orcs. "Mornaeg, hear what he has to say."

But Mornaeg was not about to kill the prince. Rather, he rent the knife through Legolas' tunic front, shredding it efficiently, and tearing the tattered remains back. "Bring him here, now!" The orcs dragged Aragorn roughly forward, pulling him to his feet. "Look, human! See, even the elves have such faults." Mornaeg grabbed the ranger by his hair, shaking him. "Look!"

Aragorn did. Along Legolas' chest, starting just below his collarbone, and running about four inches downward, was a thin, paling scar.

"Perhaps it's just a wound from a battle past. Perhaps more of his horrible childhood? Maybe it's all a mistake!" Mornaeg laughed harshly. "Isn't that what you're thinking? But you know where all this is going, don't you."

Aragorn turned weary eyes on the elf, shaking his head. My fault…my fault.

"Tell him what you did, Lindo." Legolas couldn't meet Aragorn's eyes, nor did he respond when Morneag shook him and repeated, "Tell him!" Only when Mornaeg drew a knife to Aragorn's throat again did Legolas look up, and even then, he didn't seem to really notice Aragorn's peril. Neither did Aragorn. His eyes were only for the prince's face, and they were full of alarm and denial.

"Aragorn, I…I tried to tell you so many times, but I was ashamed."

"Legolas-"

"No, mellon-nin, it's true. I tried to kill myself."

The orcs seemed to like that idea very much and cackled loudly, but Mornaeg shushed them with a glare, soaking in Leoglas' despair and Aragorn's disbelief like ground drinks water. Aragorn couldn't find a word to say for seven very long moments.

"Wh…" When? Why? He couldn't decide which one's answer would help him more. "But…when? And…where was I?"

Legolas was clearly having a hard time holding himself together all of a sudden. He squinted his eyes in an effort to keep them from showing his emotions. He had to get this out. "You were dead, Aragorn. We all…we were sure you were dead, and I couldn't bear it anymore, I…was falling apart, and one night, I wrote-"

"You wrote a note to Edren. The one they found under your bed…" Aragorn's eyes lit with recognition.

Garaer unfolded the paper, and began to read aloud:

An mellon mi enyalie,

Time hurts. It burns. It freezes.

Fair it well then. Tonight. For this night it leaves.

This night time ceases, leaving a cold body in its wake.

The heir to folly. The king of none.

But no more.

Remember tonight in hope. This night. The night of surrender.

Remember…

-Legolas

"They said- it was a note threatening your father, but…it was a suicide note." The word suicide seemed just too much, and Aragorn felt the need to cover it up with something else. "An mellon mi enyalie, 'to the friend who will remember'. Edren."

Legolas nodded. "He was the only one holding me together…I must have broken his heart those many days I stayed locked away in my room." He looked at Aragorn quietly. "And now he can't remember it for me to apologize."

Mornaeg's voice interrupted harshly. "Oh, Edren has a lot more to do with this ordeal than you think, from what Átniir has told me. Remember the key, Legolas?"

Legolas nodded. "Key?" Aragorn's eyes darted to Mornaeg, questioningly, and then to Legolas instead, not wanting to give Mornaeg the benefit of a question. It didn't matter, however, for the older elf's eyes were only for Legolas now.

"They found your father's key wrapped in that suicide note." (Mornaeg seemed to relish the word) "This only added to their suspicions that you were attempting to assassinate him. But his key wasn't supposed to be in there, was it? Little Estel's was. You were going to leave the note in your room, go to your human friend's room, lock the door, and kill yourself, weren't you? And when you didn't go through with the suicide, you hid both the note and the key under your bed."

"But then…how did Aragorn's get in there?"

Mornaeg smiled indifferently, "Your dear friend Edren. He knew, Legolas, or at least he was worried he did. He checked around your room for weapons, anything you would be tempted to use against yourself, and don't shake your head like that, Átniir saw him do it. But he found no weapon, only a note and Estel's key. He's a smart elf, when pressed, he put the pieces together, and to hopefully dissuade you from considering your suicide, he switched the keys. So, you might say it was Edren's fault that you were accused of the murder of your father, but…" he pitched his voice in a high, crude imitation of Legolas' own voice. "It's not as though he remembers any of this."

"I don't care!" Legolas spat suddenly, and Mornaeg seemed to start inwardly. "I don't care that Edren can't remember anything, at least he's alive. And you can say what you like about me, about my mistakes, about my scars whether emotional or physical, but you don't have a hold on me anymore, Mornaeg. You can't break someone's heart if you don't care about them anyway. And I may be able to forgive you, accept that you can change, but I don't have to do any of that if you don't give me a reason, and since that day the two of you went hunting together when I was a boy, I have had no reason to love you!"

"You're pathetic! You're a child, Legolas, you're even crying now!" Mornaeg slapped the elf in the face a second time. "Stupid little boy! Stupid! Stop crying, you have no right to cry, murderer! He was my brother, Lindo, my brother! You don't care, you don't feel-"

"I love Aragorn, I love Edren, I love my father, I love! You don't, Mornaeg, and for that reason, you could never understand me."

"Oh, I don't have to understand. I hate you! Is that not a feeling? I hate you more than I've hated anything! I hate you more than you have ever loved."

"You've poisoned your own mind against me, Mornaeg, for I never hated you before you hated me."

"Mornaeg?" The elf whirled to the doorway, where Átniir stood silently, her fingers twitching nervously at her sides. She seemed to be trying hard not to look at Legolas or Aragorn. "Sir, I cannot find Talaé r. He- he was not where you said he would be, sir, and I- You promised if I-"

Mornaeg pretended to probe his memory. "Ah yes, young Talaé r…blonde hair, whiny voice, one hand?"

"That's him," Átniir muttered, looking at her feet and clearly biting back tears. "Where is he?"

"Him? Oh, my dear girl, I killed him ages ago. Surely I told you?" Átniir's eyes became wide with horror, and tears began to slide down her fair face.

"But-" she choked, "you said-"

"Well, I've quite forgotten what I said, now go and get me Edren. His life-line is also drawing to a close." Átniir just stood, shaking her head and mouthing the name of the one she'd just lost. Aragorn thought he ought to do something, and wished that he could. He was about to speak, when Mornaeg snapped, "Átniir!" Startled, she looked at him again. "It may comfort you to know he died quickly. Wouldn't it be tragic if Edren's death was slow, painful, if his life ended in pitiful screams, because of you?"

The look on the young elf's face spoke loudly of many such threats. It was weary, broken. She was giving up. Without a word, a chance of expression, a glance to anyone, Átniir seemed to fade from the doorway, and her footsteps faded with her.

"You have fallen so far, my friend." Legolas' voice had since lost all its malice, all sign of furry. It was matter-of-fact, steady, and utterly condescending, which was probably what burned Mornaeg the most. He whirled, striking the prince across the face for the third time, and then again. And again. Legolas spat blood at him, causing him to pause in the beating.

"You think I care what you do to me?"

"You think I won't turn on your precious friend if you continue to anger me?"

"What does it matter?" A red trail ran from his mouth and spattered his tunic, but he truly didn't seem to notice any pain. "You will kill me, you will kill Estel. Ah, and you will more than likely kill Edren, even though he is practically a child to this situation. But what will you do then? Who will you chase down? Who will smother when we are gone?"

Mornaeg laughed. Not the cold laughter of evil pleasure, malicious intent. It was mad, lacking in all control and reason. "I don't care! I'll kill your father, crumble Mirkwood, destroy Rivendell, burn down the woods of Lothlorien. There is no limit to conquest, Lindo! None!"

Legolas shook his head all the while. "Oh, you are wrong, Mornaeg. Love is a little like hate. You are devastated when you lose the ones to whom you have attached your emotions, love or hate. Soon we will all be gone, and you will be more alone than you were. Robbed of the ones who once were precious to you, and your revenge."

He smiled a deep, frighteningly understated smile, and his eyes flashed a bright, unnatural green. "Oh well."

- - - - -

Átniir kept falling to her knees and having to scramble up again. Over and over it seemed to happen, and she couldn't figure out if it was because she couldn't see the ground through her tears, or because she was trembling all over. "Talaé r, mellon-nin…hero hu ith-" she gasped, and fell to the ground again, not bothering to get up this time. "Ab-weneth…Talaé r! I tried, I thought- I- I thought…fool, I was a- a fool, traitor, and all for nothing! All for nothing!" She sobbed a few more moments into her knees, and then became still. She couldn't cry anymore. She didn't have the will or the energy.

Glaze-eyed, she rose to her feet, and ran to the Bengwiil grounds. Approaching one of the large orcs outside, she spoke as though she were reciting, "Mornaeg orders the dark-haired elf should be brought to him now." One of the orcs nodded, and turned inside, while the other sneered with an ugly set of teeth at Átniir. She glared back, and turned away towards the woods again.

She knew she was being yanked backward long before she noticed the hands on her shoulders, even though the hands had grabbed her first. On another day she may have cried out, even fought back, but her body went limp in the sudden attack, and the only sign of protest was her breath catching in her throat.

She stood, one of the arms wrapped around her waist, one around he shoulders, the hand pressed tight across her mouth. Soon, there was warm breath in her ear and a whisper, "I did not know what to believe, Átniir, but your conduct proves it. You would send Edren to his death?" There was a sigh of a defeat, a pause, then, "I- do not know what emotions drove you to this point, but if you do not love me anymore, just say so. If you cannot love Mirkwood, you cannot love me. And if you will not leave Mornaeg, Átniir, then you can't possibly love your home. Just- tell me, please, once and for all."

The figure let her go, and Átniir turned, all ready knowing who it was the moment she heard his voice. "Daurrè." She gasped, and in answer to every one of his questions, she threw her arms around him, and her tears began afresh. But these did not taste like the sharp salt of regret she'd been crying, they were sweet with relief. And the young elf thought she would never recall a happier memory than when, after a pause of surprise and decision, Daurrè held her close and said he loved her, that he always would love her, and (this that drove her tears the harder) that he forgave her everything.

- - - - -

"Let him go, Mornaeg!"

"NO! Do you think I've come this far to have mercy now? I don't know it anymore, Lindo, so stop crying like a child. This is your last chance to see either one of them, so take a good look!"

It was all happening too quickly. Edren had no sooner been pulled into the dark room than Mornaeg ordered both him and Aragorn be taken away. A dozen orcs swarmed the wood floors, tugging the human and elf away like a black wave. Aragorn tried to cry out to Legolas, whether in assurance or fear he didn't know, but one of the orcs cackled loudly in his ear and shoved a foul-smelling cloth into his mouth. Aragorn struck out until his muscles ached, and Edren the same, but to no avail.

"Aragorn- ARAGORN!" Legolas cried, not realizing how much Mornaeg was enjoying the panic in his voice. Where was Aragorn? Legolas couldn't see him through the cloud of orcs, and he could feel anger and frustration rising in his throat.

"No stalling, Lindo," Mornaeg leered, giving Legolas a friendly pat which the prince shunned immediately. "No tearful goodbyes, no heartfelt, friend-to-friend parting, no 'I'll always be there, mellon-nin,'" he mimicked, the smile turning to a harsh frown. "You don't deserve any such goodbye. I did not get one when my brother died, nor did anyone…"

Legolas blocked the elf's voice out, putting his concentration on the mob of orcs swarming towards the door. "Aragorn!" He thrashed around, attempting to dislodge himself from the beam over his head. "Edren! ESTEL!"

"Do you want to know the rest?" Mornaeg grabbed the prince's chin, redirecting his gaze away from the door. Legolas thrashed even harder, rearing his head like an angry horse, but Morneag was determined too. "They're going to die. Both of them. One will be quick, painless."

He jerked his head to the side, trying to see the crowd of orcs. They were leaving- they were almost gone! "Aragorn- lasto beth nin!"

"The other will die slowly, working day after day to grow my Bengwiil, and be kicked and prodded by my orcs, to be locked away from the sun every day, and made to work every night." He smiled, "Do you want to know which will be which? Will Arasen suffer for years before death takes him, or shall Estel?"

They were gone. Aragorn and Edren both, dragged away…with no goodbye. The room was empty, quiet. Frozen, but still tense with fresh footsteps.

"I want you to decide, Lindo. Think of it as a parting gift."

Legolas was silent. Blank. "I…won't let you."

"You can't stop me." Mornaeg grabbed the prince's face between his hands, looking down at him in mock pity. "Do you remember how I used to hold you like this as a boy, Lindo? Every time you worried, you feared, I would look into your eyes just like this, and tell you it was fine."

And Legolas did remember. "But you're not the elf you once were."

"I am the same, Lindo."

Legolas squinted back, shaking his head, and gazing into the eyes. "Then call me Legolas."

Mornaeg did not reply to the demand, but put his face closer to the prince's. "Who will it be? Arasen or Estel? Which shall receive the merciful gift of death right now, and which will not?"

"If they will both die, it won't matter," Legolas responded dully, pleading in his heart that Daurrè would reach his friends first, as planned. "I don't care anymore."

Mornaeg brought his face even closer, "Are you ready to die, then?"

Legolas' head jerked back suddenly, then forward, smacking Mornaeg soundly on the skull, and kicking the reeling elf back a step. Mornaeg clutched his head, sitting on the floor on for a moment, and then rising suddenly, a fresh spark of furry in his eyes.

Legolas returned it coolly. "Ready."