Out of Mirkwood
Scribbles-on-Parchment
May 16, 2020
Chapter 41 – Protecting the King
Kélion's hands were tightly clasped behind his back as he paced back and forth beside the three empty beds that occupied the royal healing chamber. He could smell the fresh herbs in the neatly prepared bundles that lay on a small table to the back of the room. After an hour of having their scent fill the air in the enclosed room, the crown prince was on the brink of going insane. The combination of so many mixed emotions from the past week and sickly smell that surrounded him made the eldar even more agitated.
He had never been one to copy his adar's infamous temper but today he was dangerously close to it. The Sinda stopped his repetitive pacing and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He needed to calm himself. His adar was fine. Meldir knew what he was doing; he trusted his friend and he did not believe that one so faithful as Nalledir would lie. Yet darkness could change the heart of any elf no matter how loyal.
"Augh!"
Kélion's head snapped up as a loud crash thundered through the increasingly claustrophobic room. He glanced over at the source of the loud noise and glared.
"What in all of arda is taking them so long. If Meldir does not walk through that door soon then I swear to the Valar that I will end up breaking more than just this pitcher."
The Sinda raised his dark brows at Êmand's words. It had been many centuries since he had seen the normally regal elf display such emotions. The shards of pottery from the water pitcher lay around his feet though Kélion was not sure if he had accidentally dropped it or not.
"Had I known it would take this bloody long I would have insisted on going with Nalledir myself."
"Meldir is perfectly capable of completing this task," the prince was getting annoyed by the lack of maturity the older ellon was displaying, "Be at peace before I do something that I regret."
The Silvan elf stilled as he recognized the air of frustration that surrounded the prince.
"Forgive me Kélion. My emotions run high from the events of yesterday. I no longer know what my purpose is anymore. I feel useless."
At the ellon's sorrow filled words the prince could not help but look away at the lost look in Êmand's eyes. Legolas had been his whole world, protecting the princeling had been his sole purpose for centuries.
Kélion shook his head, he would not allow himself to fall into these powerful emotions again. He started on his pacing one more to still the trembling of his hands but stopped short as he heard soft footfalls in the hall outside of the chamber.
"Someone approaches."
Êmand immediately drew the sword that hung at his waist and stepped in front of the door, ready to strike down any enemy that dare pass through it.
Both ellyn waited in silence as the footfalls grew louder. Kélion felt a flutter of hope in his chest that this could be his friend returning with his adar, this was what he had been waiting for.
Someone fumbled with the handle to the door as a voice called out,
"It is me, Meldir."
In an instant Êmand had sheathed his sword and had flung the door open to reveal the Silvan elf clutching the pale and seemingly lifeless body of Thranduil to his chest.
The crown prince let out a soft cry at the sight and felt his knees grow weak. His mind immediately flashed back to the dead body of his younger brother.
Meldir carried the limp body to the closest bed and laid the king down gently. He looked over at the eldar and noticed his pale, wide-eyed look.
"Peace gwador. He is not dead, merely unconscious. The king still draws breath. Now please calm yourself for I do not desire to have another suborn Sinda to take care of. One it quite enough."
These words seemed enough to bring Kélion out of his state of shock. Though the horrified look in the sharp blue eyes never fully went away the prince seemed to regain his composure quickly, struggling to replacing the shock with determination.
"What can I do to help?"
"You can start by getting my son into a bed whilst I see to your adar."
The ellon recognized the commanding voice of Narril instantly. He glanced over to see her and Úmmon helping guide a limping Nalledir into the room. The Silvan between them was pale and drawing haggard breaths, obviously in much pain.
He gave one last pained look at his adar before hurrying to do the master healer's bidding.
Thranduil lay still under the soft linens of the bed. A light sheen of sweat coated his brow and the slight rise and fall of his chest were the only signs that the great king was still alive. If one looked hard enough the faint light of the eldar still shown around the Sinda standing out as a beacon against the darkness that had attacked his mind and body.
The chambers were still and silent as Kélion sat at his adar's side refusing to move from his place, even when Meldir had insisted he rest. Narril and Úmmon had worked tirelessly on the king for about an hour before the royal healer declared that the ellon was out of danger, at least for now, and was in a deep healing sleep. The light fever that afflicted the elf now would not last long.
Even still the crown prince was not at ease. How was it that he had come to lose his beloved brother one day and the next almost lose his adar?
"Mellon nín."
Meldir put a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder trying not to startle him out of his thoughts. The sorrow filled azure eyes fell on the Silvan's face,
"I am sorry to disturb you from your vigil but I fear that there are matters in the palace that cannot wait. The people grow restless and are demanding to know what has become of their king and the healers that vanished."
Kélion let out a sign and got slowly to his feet. He cast a glance at his adar.
"It appears as if someone witnessed the missing healers and I carrying a seemingly dead Sinda down the halls. I am sorry mellon. I did not think there was anyone there to notice our passing. They are demanding to speak with a member of the royal family."
It was now that a great weariness began to wash over the prince. He had no idea what to say to the people that waited to hear if their king was dead. His adar was the one who had all of the words, not him. Should he tell them of the assassination attempt and risk panic or should he avoid telling them the real truth and risk the consequences when the reality of the situation came out?
There were issues on both sides and all he really wished to do was stay with the king until he awoke. Yet he was the crown prince of the Greenwood, he had a sworn duty to his people and either way whoever this assassin was they would know that their attempt had failed.
But would they come back for revenge?
"Stay with him," Kélion gave Êmand a hard look, "I will have Meldir send more guards. No one enters and no one leaves this room except by my command."
The Silvan nodded, placing his hand on his sword,
"I will protect him with my life."
The Sinda smiled sadly,
"I know you will mellon, though I pray that it shall not come to that, he cast one more glance at his adar, "And he had better be awake when I get back."
With that Kélion turned in his heel and followed Meldir out the door, head high and a cold glint in his eye, every inch a son of Thranduil.
The entire palace was in an uproar. Rumors were spreading like wildfire that the king had followed his youngest son and wife to the Halls of Mandos. Already several elves had dressed in dark clothes of morning for their king. Voices whispered in the halls that the great Sinda had been killed, stabbed through the heart by a cloaked assassin or that the same yrch that had killed Legolas had done the same to Thranduil; perhaps the crown prince was dead too.
The halls of the great fortress of the Greenwood no longer felt safe and several Silvan guards had even begun to talk of forcing a mass exodus of the place if the royal family was gone. Fear and darkness seemed to have taken hold of everything and everyone.
The great throne room seemed to be the gathering place for the people as the empty throne that stood regal and elevated in the center, remained cold and empty. A frantic Thalion stood in the center of the crowd of Silvan elves trying to keep order when the great doors were flung open and a stern voice cried above the clamor of elvish voices,
"Dîn! Erio! Show some respect for your crown prince."
An angry eldar, Meldir, led the way into the throne room followed by several of the royal guards who spread out across the room, elaborate helmets hiding their faces. The room had gone deathly silent as the people caught sight of the signature, golden hair of the royal family. Kélion walked into the room with an emotionless look on his face as he surveyed the elves crowded around the throne. This was not going to go well; he could already tell.
"Hîr nín," the quiet whisper hissed through the dark tunnel and echoed off of the damp walls, "Goheno nin. I was not able to do as you asked. The son brought the guards back with him and there was nothing I could do."
A low growl sounded from the dark shadows,
"It would have been better that you had just killed the cursed healer and her offspring as soon as they brought Thranduil down into the tunnels. You have disappointed me greatly."
The Silvan elf shuddered as a cold breath blew across his face, fear coursed through his veins. In an instant the ellon collapsed at the feet of the dark elf, tears running down his face.
"Have mercy. I will not fail you again."
There was a moment of silence.
"Oh Úmmon, you disappoint me with your weakness. Get out of my sight and do as I have asked before I change my mind and slit your throat as you cower before me like a dog."
The healer's body shook in fear as he hurriedly picked himself up off of the dusty floor and darted away up the tunnel.
Elvish Translations:
adar – father
gwador – sworn brother (by oath, not blood)
yrch – orcs
dîn – silence
erio – rise or stand
hîr nín – my lord
goheno nin – forgive me