Out of Mirkwood

Scribbles-on-Parchment

April 11, 2020

Chapter 36 – Into the Tunnels

Thranduil floated in a dark sea of pain free mist. It was more than blissful, it was heavenly. He could dimly feel that something was wrong. He could feel power being almost siphoned from his súlë, yet he could not bring himself to find the ability to be concerned. His mind felt completely blank, no more haunting memories, no more painful emotions, nothing at all.

He never wanted to leave. If it were up to him then he would gladly stay here until his soul was called to the Halls of Mandos.

"Adar!"

The haunting cry that cut through the darkness that surrounded the king, sounded like thunder in the silence that reigned. Thranduil looked around trying to find the source of the cry, yet there was nothing.

The Sinda put his shaking hand to his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart. It was not the cry itself that had startled him, but the face that he connected to the voice. It was Legolas. His little green leaf that had been torn away from him.

"Legolas? Penneth, where are you?" Desperation laced every word.

The ellon twisted and turned his lithe body in the fog that had begun to envelop him. His mind screaming at him. He had to find Legolas. He had to find his son. Yet as much as he strained his eyes, he could still make out nothing in the swirling darkness and no other cry came. Slowly the adrenaline began to change into anger.

"Where are you?" Thranduil cried again, this time trying to take a step forward, "Do not leave me again!"

But as the proud eldar tried to move his feet, he found that his body would not obey his commands which only served to fuel his anger more. The Sinda tried to force himself forward again, yet the most seemed to act like a thick paste, circling around him and keeping him in place.

"Elbereth, why do you not just take me now?" Thranduil did not even realize the wet tears of frustration that now damped his cheeks, "You have already taken my wife and child from me. What more do you wish? Why do you choose to leave me in such misery?"

"What is this? The great king of the Greenwood all alone and in tears no less."

Thranduil started at the cold whisper of a breath on the back of his neck. The voice that spoke was low and mocking.

"What is the matter? Is the pain of loss finally starting to affect you?"

The voice came again, sending a shiver down Thranduil's spine.

"Who are you?"

The Sinda's voice came out with an almost pleading sound to it, causing Thranduil to flinch as his own words hit his ears. Had he fallen this low?

"You will remember in time," the voice taunted in his ear.

The king tried to turn his head to see who spoke but found that the mist had now covered most of his body making him unable to move his head. He now felt its cold suffocating feeling close in around his neck, cutting his breath short.

"For now, you will know me simply as the one who has power over your life, just as I also do over Legolas."

"He is dead, what power can you hold over him," the Sinda choked out as the mist began to cover the sides of his face, "You can do him no harm."

"We will see, for my power is stronger than you can imagine. Nothing is out of my reach, no matter how far it may stray…"

The voice died away with a harsh hissing sound that would have caused the ellon to tremble if he had had control over his body. However, at the moment he was simply trying to remember how to breathe as the suffocating darkness closed over his eyes.

"Adar, where are you?" the voice of Legolas sounded again, this time full of pain and fear that struck at the king's heart, "You have to find me, you have to wake up."

Thranduil opened his mouth to call to his son, but as he did so the dark mist flooded into his mouth, cutting off any cry.

"Legolas!" Thranduil jerked upright with a harsh cry, chest heaving with emotion. He looked around frantically for his son but found that the dark hazy world had been replaced with the cold, painful world of reality. Pain immediately flared throughout his body and he felt himself fall back into someone's arms with a gasp. His entire being felt aflame with agony, taking his breath away.

"Peace hîr nín, you are not well. The poison has not yet lost its hold on your body."

The eldar blinked his eyes open their normally icy sapphire color now a dull blue, full of pain and fatigue.

"Where am I? Where is my son?" the air seemed to grate against the Sinda's throat as he spoke, causing him to wince, "Where is Legolas?"

Narril looked down with concern upon the king. His eyes, usually so emotionless and cold, betrayed the obvious pain and confusion he was in. There was an air of worry and desperation about him and the words he had spoken also worried her. Had the king gone insane? Or had he forgotten that Legolas was not here? The elleth looked over at Úmmon, a silent message in her gaze.

"Your son is not here Thranduil," Narril tried to make her voice as gentle as possible as to not startle the king if he had in fact forgotten the events of the past several days, "He has been taken away from us; lost…"

Her voice died away as tears pricked her eyes. She would not say that he was dead, for she did not believe that he was and she refused to say something that she did not feel in her heart was true.

"Missing?" the voice sounded sorrowful and weak, "He was calling to me in my dream. He was there."

Narril looked up at the other healer. The king would likely remain weak for several days while his body healed from the poison, but there was a look of worry that passed between the two. This was not the voice, nor words of their king, it was too defeated.

"Sleep, Thranduil. There is nothing that you can do now. You must rest and get well before we can search for Legolas."

They watched the Sinda's eyes slowly drifted closed, before Úmmon spoke,

"Why do you give him hope? Legolas is dead. You saw his body; you were at his burial. Do not give a light where there will never be one. He is gone and none of your words will ever be able to bring him back."

The elleth continued to sit with Thranduil's head in her lap. She could feel the cool stone against her, yet the sharp pain in her heart distracted her. Úmmon's words had cut at her spirit, her hope. She refused to believe that Legolas was dead. Though she had seen the young elf's face as she had prepared him for burial, she had not been able to tell that it had been him. She was not his mother, but she could still feel that Legolas was not gone. Someone else had been brought back in his place. However, no one believed her. No one but her son.

"Where is Nalledir?" Narril looked up at Úmmon, who was kneeling uncomfortably on the ground trying to grind several powerful smelling herbs into a paste, "I cannot finish this without the lilac petals, and without it I cannot hope to bring down Thranduil's pain."

As if in response a cold wind rushed down the dark tunnel, blowing the candle out and all three of the elves were immediately plunged into complete darkness.

From somewhere beside her, Narril heard Úmmon curse loudly as he scrambled around trying to find the candle. As Silvan elves, they were not prone to glow as brightly with the light of the eldar as the Sindar did, yet as her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the faint glow around each of them. Thranduil's appeared dim and flickering, as if it were in danger of blowing out just as the candle had.

Narril watched the ellon's hand close around the small candle, but quickly drop it once more. Instead the elf reached for the small dagger that was at his waist, drawing it quickly.

Someone was coming.

Meldir marched behind Nalledir as the ellon led them down a small dark tunnel. The flickering light of the torch illuminated the stone walls around them, before seeming to become swallowed up by the thick darkness around them. The air smelled stale and heavy.

"How do you know of this place?" The Silvan cast a glance behind him as he said this as if fearing someone was following them, "Only members of the royal family are supposed to know."

"My naneth and I serve the royal family. We were shown these tunnels in case we had to help provide a quick escape," Nalledir gasped as he stumbled over a sudden incline in the floor.

Meldir steadied the elf, trying to avoid touching the healer's bruised torso,

"So, you happened to stumble across Thranduil dying in his chambers and bring him into the tunnels to save him? You did not think it a good idea to tell anyone of your intentions? Surely you can see why suspicion has been cast upon you."

Nalledir did not respond for a moment,

"Something did not feel right. There was a darkness, an evil presence in the halls. I merely did what I saw was best to do. My naneth is allowed into the king's chambers and found him almost dead on the floor. Would you rather we had left him?"

Behind him the commander raised an eyebrow. He was not used to anyone speaking to him in such a manner.

"I would that you had rather come and alerted the royal guards or Thalion. They could have offered you protection and you would not have had to bring him down here. This is only to be used in the direst of situations."

Nalledir came to an abrupt stop, clutching his side in his hands. He turned to look at the older ellon with a fierce gaze.

"And who do you think did this to Thranduil in the first place? Who was absent from their places? The royal guards and Thalion were nowhere to be found. Who do you think I should have trusted? How do I know that you are not the assassin?"

Meldir opened his mouth to offer a harsh reply, but a voice called out to them from the darkness.

"Daro hi! Do not come any further or I will be forced to kill all of you."

The light from the touch barely illuminated a slim figure several paces further down the tunnel, there was the glint of steel in his hand. However before Nalledir could respond, Meldir pushed past him and marched down the narrow path demanding,

"Where is the king?"

Elvish Translations:

súlë – spirit

penneth – young one

hîr nín – my lord

naneth – mother

daro hi – stop now