Arahaelon's words hung hollowly in the air, bouncing feebly on the majestic stone walls, making her blood run cod inside her veins and draining all warmth from her body. Her heart felt still, not racing, not drumming, like an empty black abyss as a dark fear started to spread from it, silently, slowly, reaching every single inch of her body. "No one has crossed the borders through the main path". She did not understand. Lossenel and Tadion should have been here by now. They should have reached the Palace a long time ago.
The Crown Prince's striking emerald eyes were fixed on Legolas, their expression once again unreadable, impenetrable, like endless regal pools of forest green, so serene and yet so powerful. And still, she could see the worry in their depths, the sudden fear and despair. Legolas did not say anything, and she lowered her gaze to her hands as Arahaelon's piercing emerald eyes turned in her direction, not knowing what to say to her eldest brother either.
A soft moan from the bed made all pairs of eyes turn in its direction, the healers reacting almost instantly, two of them quickly walking over to their King's stirring figure. A slight crease of pain had started to form on the Elvenking's brow and she watched silently as Arahaelon's eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, the expression on his face suddenly hard, anguished, unreadable, and she instantly understood that the Crown Prince had not wanted the King to wait just yet, as if somehow he had already known his father would be in pain.
"Ada!" Legolas exclaimed a little too loudly, causing a wince to cross the King's and Arahaelon's striking emerald eyes to glare at him.
"Fetch Lord Elrond." She could hear Melnor saying to another healer she did not know as he reached her father's side, maneuvering around Legolas' sitting form and carefully taking hold of the King's wrist with his fingers, feeling for his pulse.
"Sorry, Ada." Legolas apologized almost immediately, his voice turning into a barely audible whisper as one of his hands gently moved to stroke the King's long light blond hair. "How do you feel?"
The Elvenking did not respond, not even opening his eyes, not seeming to be entirely awake yet. In a single second, every elf in the overly large bedchamber had set into motion, a pair of healers already mixing some herbs in a corner of the room, but her attention remained focused on her father. The Crown Prince had already dipped a piece of cloth on a bowl of water she had noticed laying on the bedside table, and was gently dabbing it over the King's forehead, going as close to the bandaged wound as he dared.
"Ada, can you hear me?" Arahaelon's voice had dropped to a whisper, as if afraid that any loud would disturb the King.
To her surprise, the King's eyes fluttered open, although only halfway, blinking a couple of times before he closed them shut again, weakly starting to sit up.
"Ada, you must stay down." The Crown Prince was faster, steady arms gently pushing the Elvenking back down before he could even raise his head an inch from the pillow.
The King did not protest, eyes still closed as Arahaelon securely placed the feathered covers up to his father's chin once more. A chill traveled down her spine as she felt the King's powers pulsating and screeching louder in the still air as he awoke, the sensation like one she had never felt before, so dissonant and weak, so ruptured, like the agonizing sound of shattering glass. Almost simultaneously, the forest roared in the night outside, the cries of the trees tying with those of the Elvenking's fractured powers, as if forcefully attempting to reclaim the bond that hand been so erroneously and brutally interrupted.
But the King could not respond to it, could not accept the connection nor push away form it, and she was forced to watch in silence as another wince crossed her father's usually serene and relaxed face, his body suddenly tense. She could feel the forceful connection bounding like electrics shocks, unable to get a complete hold of the Elvenking, the invisible wound left after the brutal and unauthorized separation making it impossible for the trees outside to reach the King's energy, and she could hear their despair in their cries, their hunger for the source of life and protection for so many centuries. For a moment she did not know what to expect, fear settling at the pit of her stomach as the visible distress on her father's face told her that the forceful push of the forest was causing more damage than good.
She had not even noticed that she had risen from she had been sitting at the edge of the bed, and was now standing next to Elladan, one of his arms securely wrapped around her, easily feeling her fear and anxiousness. A quick look around her told her that none of the healers could feel what was causing their King distress, some of them exchanging nervous looks between them.
"My Lord, are you in pain?" She could hear Melnor asking, stating the obvious as his careful hands moved to examine the injury in her father's head, unaware of anything else that could be causing his King pain. And yet, the head healer's eyes kept darting towards the door, as if longing for Lord Elrond to push through them at any second.
Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Arahaelon move, ever so slightly, the palm of his had gently pressing against his father's cheek. The reaction was immediate. She could feel the Elvenking's powers suddenly latching to his eldest son, his injured spirit using the bond father and son shared as source of stability, the roar of the forest suddenly quieting down, as they could no longer reach the King. Her father's face relaxed once more, the Crown Prince providing the stability his broken powers needed, although it did not seem to be healing the invisible wound. Legolas had remained sitting silently the entire time, infinite blue eyes watching his eldest brother attentively as if knowing exactly what was happening even though he could not feel it nor see it.
"It is all right, Rina." She heard Elladan's sweet voice echoing inside her head as his hand squeezed hers gently. "Head injuries take time to heal. It is normal for him to be in pain."
She immediately turned her head, her forest green eyes meetings his liquid silver ones, like starlight on the endless night. She tried to smile reassuringly, but failed miserably, resting one of her hands on his pale cheek.
"The head injury is not the problem." She informed him, allowing his warm arms to press her closer against his chest. She knew he could not feel the wound that was really ailing the King. "There is another injury, Dan, the one Lord Agoron said the healers could not find. I can feel it, and it is not a wound like any other the healers can be expecting. Something is very wrong, Dan. Something went wrong the night the injury was inflicted, when the connection was interrupted."
She knew she did not need to go into details with her explanation. Her brief words were enough for him to understand exactly what had happened, what she meant, and what was the other wound the healer could not see and could not treat. He could read it in her thoughts, could feel it through their bond, even though he himself could not feel what her own spirit through her powers could. And suddenly she understood what had had her so on edge since her arrival at the Palace, what caused her sudden and seemingly irrational fears, what had her trembling and crying as she dove into the pool at the caves.
Even unconsciously, she had felt the change. The air felt eerie, the night darker, sounds stranger, and it was now that she understood what drove her fear: the protective and nourishing aura of the Elvenking, that seemed to float through the realm with ease, was gone. The steady and healthy connection that seemed to permanently link the forest to its ruler had disappeared. And that was what caused her maddening fear, her perpetual unease. She could feel the powers of this overwhelming forest, but now it lacked the protection of the King, making her feel vulnerable, exposed, no longer in the safety of the King's unnatural defense.
Could the other elves feel the change in the air as well even though they did not know what it was exactly they were feeling? Was that what had the entire realm on the verge of panic, every elf on the brink of madness, this sudden unexplained feeling of vulnerability? And what if something were to happen? Would be King be able to keep the darkness away form his realm as he had done for so many years? Did the orcs or- she shuddered as she thought of them- the Nazgul knew that the protective boundaries on the forest had been fractured?
And then, something clicked inside her head. Someone must know that the realm was undefended. All the patrols and armies that had been away had been called back into the realm. She had seen them at the human village, had seen Arahaelon returning with them.
Her trail of though was interrupted by the sound of the door suddenly being pushed open, the regal form of Lord Elrond rushing inside the room, briefly casting a glance at his sons and for a fragment of a second his eyes met hers. Piercing silver eyes looked straight through hers, trapping her like cold steel, impossible to look away from them and in that split stare she understood that he knew everything. Lord Elrond knew that the eye had seen her. The stare, however, lasted only second before the Lord of Imladris walked straight to the bed, taking the place Legolas had just relinquished. Her attention focused once more on her father, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully, even though she could tell he was awake, Arahaelon's hand still lightly pressed against his cheek.
"Thranduil, my friend, can you hear me?" The Elf-Lord's voice was gentle as his overly careful hands probed lightly around the King's bandaged head, turning to add something in elvish to one of the healers before focusing his eyes once more on her father.
Ice blue eyes fluttered open once more, easily finding the Elf-Lord's silver ones. And even in his current state, the King's eyes were as silent and tranquil as ever, as powerful and unreadable, like iced blue fire, so cold and piercing and yet not harsh, impenetrable.
"How do you feel?" She heard Lord Elrond asking, his voice as gentle and quiet as before.
"Fine." The Elvenking croaked, his voice so low she had to partially read his lips to understand what he had said. Her father was in a bad mood, but she did not blame him. She too would be in the worst of moods if she were feeling the way he probably was and had so many elves hovering over her. She wanted to yell at healers who were now clustered to the oversized bed, arranging pillows and stretching the covers in a hope to be useful, trying to make their King as comfortable as possible.
"And who exactly do you think you are fooling with that answer, Thranduil?" The Elf-Lord asked, even though his voice did not sound irritated in the slightest, but sympathetic.
The Elvenking did not answer for at that precise moment one of the healers hovering over him picked up the cool wet cloth that Arahaelon had placed back on the bedside table, and started to gently dab it across his King's brow in an attempt to ease his discomfort. The King, however, would have none of it, pushing the healer's hand away in a move that had it not been for his obvious weakness and slight trembling would have been considered brusque. Ice blue eyes glared at the healer, who obediently stepped back from the bed, lowering his head silently, and the King's eyes fell once again closed, looking exhausted.
"Out." The King breathed out in a feeble voice, not opening his eyes, and she saw Lord Elrond's silver eyes lifting to look at the bunch of healers.
"You may leave and wait outside. You will be called if you are needed." There was no space for argument in the Elf-Lord's voice, and the healers quickly left the room to wait in the elegant antechamber, leaving inside only her siblings the twins and the two rulers, granting the Elvenking a moment of peace.
"Ada, how do you feel?" Legolas repeated the question and the King's eyes opened once more, at first dazed and confused, clouded with pain as he took a full look of his surroundings for the first time.
Ice blue eyes met hers, all the pained cloudiness that covered them suddenly vanishing, and for a split second the King's eyes burned through hers, bright sapphires that seemed to penetrate to the deepest of her thoughts and at the same time remained so gentle, almost apologetic, regretful. She could not look away, her mind entirely swallowed by those powerful, endless orbs, as soothing and wild as the sea. And at that moment she understood. Her father was far from well, but he was fully aware of his surroundings, of what was happening around him, and perhaps even knew things that neither she nor her siblings were yet aware of. He knew the eye had seen her.
The moment only lasted a second for the King's piercing eyes suddenly returned to look at his youngest son, suddenly looking drained. "Tired…Cold…"
She did not miss the worried glance the Crown Prince threw Lord Elrond at the Elvenking's reply, but the healer did not turn to look, all of his attention focused on her father. The King's eyes had dropped closed once more, the Elf-Lord's expert hand suddenly feeling for his temperature. A wave of dread engulfed her, slowly, like iced arms caressing her body. She did not know much about healing, but cold was never a good sign, especially for an elf. Elves were not susceptible to cold the way men were and the large bedchamber was already warmer than it should be, red and yellow flames burning and crisping on the elegant fireplace. She could feel the weak pulsing of the King's powers in the air, the way his spirit seemed to cling to Arahaelon for stability, and it scared her.
Lord Elrond simply nodded his head, saying something in elvish to Legolas who immediately moved across the room, retrieving a think blanket of the finest of wools and overly gently covered his father's form with it. The smile on her brother's face was heart-breaking as his hands carefully pulled the blanket close to his father's chin, like that of an elfling's trying to cover his sadness but failing miserably, and she was only glad that the King did not see it for his eyes remained closed underneath heavy eyelids.
"There you go, Ada." Legolas' whispered voice was masked with cheerfulness, even though she could perfectly catch the concealed sorrow and worry in the usually peaceful and musical sound. "All tucked in like an efling."
The faintest of chuckles escaped the King's lips, although his eyes remained safely closed. Then she saw the Elf-Lord's hand travel to rest lightly on her father's forehead, silver eyes closed in concentration and almost immediately the dim glow of the blue-stoned ring on his right hand intensified, slowly, steadily, like a bright blue star. Silence had fallen over the room but she could hear Vilya's whispers floating in the air, a soft murmur of unintelligible words that seemed to surround the Elf-Lord's regal presence, its power extending to caress at her father's still figure like a nourishing song. She had not even noticed when Arahaelon had removed his hand from the King's cheek, allowing Lord Elrond's healing energy to work its magic.
Slowly, she felt as it penetrated the King, seeming to soothe away the turmoil in his injured spirit and she watched as her father's sickly pale face relaxed entirely, his breathing starting to come slower and steadier, slowly drifting off to a deep healing sleep. And yet, what made a new round of cold shivers travel down her body was the sudden realization that Lord Elrond's healing energy had not reached the tear in her father's spirit, had not had not even touched it, and suddenly she felt as if a bucket of iced water had been splashed over her head: The Elf-Lord's healing energy was helping, strengthening the King enough to be able to rest peacefully, to keep him stable, but it was not healing his injury. How long would it be until the King woke up again in the same distress? How many times had the Elf-Lord performed this same task? Would it simply remain like this? Did this mean the Elvenking's wound could not be healed? No. She did not want to believe that. She would not believe that.
"Come, let us give him some peace. He needs rest." Lord Elrond's voice broke the silence, and only then did she notice that Vilya had stopped glowing, the Elvenking now in a deep slumber.
She nodded her head, barely aware of Elladan leading her out of the room, Elrohir and her siblings following closely behind. She could distantly hear Lord Elrond giving some instructions to the healers as they crossed through the antechamber and out of the King's Quarters, but she did not pay attention to what they were saying. All of her attention was on the sudden feeling of emptiness, of unexplained vulnerability and dreadful silence that filled the dark corridors of the Palace outside, making her shiver slightly, pressing herself closer to Elladan. The King's aura, so strong, so protective and steady was entirely missing from the air, the majestic stone that built the stretching walls suddenly feeling colder than ever, sucking all the wraths form her body, murmuring to her back as she walked.
Nobody spoke as they followed Lord Elrond through the long corridors of the Private Quarters, the ones reserved only for the Royal Family. It took nearly an eternity until they reached the Family Sitting Room, the Elf-Lord holding the door open for them enter before closing it securely after him.
The large an elegant room was completely empty, a warm fire already roaring on the oversized fireplace. She walked straight to one of the comfortable seats that populated the space, lowering herself on the soft cushions as Elladan took the armrest next to her, as he usually did.
"He really is not well, is he?" Legolas' voice broke the silence, infinite blue eyes staring straight at Lord Elrond, as if hoping that his assumption would be wrong. The Prince had taken the seat directly across from her, Elrohir to his side, and she watched painfully as the Crown Prince moved to stand behind his younger brother, placing one hand comfortingly on his shoulder.
"His head injury is healing well…" was the Elf-Lord's reply, his deep blue robes, the color of a vast night sky, brushing against the exquisite carpet as he walked to where they sat.
"I am not talking about the head injury."
She lowered her eyes, no longer capable of looking at her brother's pleading blue eyes. She could feel Arahaelon's impenetrable emerald eyes piercing through her, very well aware that she had perfectly understood the extent of the situation, that she knew about the Elvenking's condition, and she did not dare meet her eldest brohter's silent eyes, like a peaceful pair of mirrors, afraid of what she would find in them.
"No, Legolas." Lord Elrond's calmed voice, an ever soothing tenor, floated in the air, so effortless and yet even in its perpetual peacefulness it did not seem to tranquilize any of them. "Your father is not well. His condition is not improving. I can do nothing more, his injury is beyond my skills. His bond with the forests of Mirkwood was violently ripped apart and his spirit was damaged in the process. Perhaps he can be healed, perhaps he cannot."
"But you are the greatest healer in Arda." Legolas protested, his voice so low she barely heard it. "I have seen you heal wounds of the spirit. How come you cannot help him?"
"Your father is very powerful. You know that" Lord Elrond's voice remained as calmed as ever, silver eyes looking sorrowfully at the young Prince. "The connection he shares with his forests is an unnaturally strong one. When that connection broke it was an uneven break. Part of your father still lingers in the grasp of the forest, and both your father's powers and the forces of the forest will attempt to forcefully reinstall the connection, they cannot avoid it, nor can they control it. The trees want him back. They want the protection form the darkness that your father provided, but I am afraid the King cannot handle such a task. Neither his body nor his spirit can handle the stress and energy that said connection will require. He does not have the strength to keep control on the connection, to keep a balance, and in his injured state the trees cannot get a complete hold on him, only causing more damage in the process. I cannot reach that connection. I cannot repair the tear in your father's spirit and every time I have tried to reach it the trees will react and will push me away from your father, sometimes so powerfully that it has placed your father's life in the line. I do not dare try again."
"And what if…what if Adar's wound cannot be healed?" Legolas voiced the question she had been hoping not to hear, the one that she had tried to bury deep inside her mind until she could obligate herself to forget it. "What happens then? Can he live like that?"
The Elf-Lord sighed, a sad smile crossing his face in an attempt to ease Legolas' worries, but promising no hope in it. For a second she thought the Master of Imladris would not answer the question, but to her slight surprise the calming voice echoed once again through the elegant room.
"I do not know for how long can your father fight such an injury, but if it cannot be healed the King will have no other choice than sail or fade. It will slowly consume him."
The cruel silence hung in the hollow air and she closed her eyes, feeling one of Elladan's arms suddenly wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his body, but no words of comfort came. There were none that could possibly help.
"Your father is strong, Legolas. He will fight." The Elf-Lord continued, but she did not open her eyes to see.
"And what happens now?" Elrohir's voice floated in the air fro the first time that night, and she opened her eyes in time to find the younger twin's silver eyes, identical to those of his brother, staring straight at his father, his handsome face unreadable. "What does this disconnection with the forest mean?"
"It means that there is no protection on the realm. The magic has lifted." She was surprised at the steady sound of her voice, all pairs of eyes turning in her direction but she only focused on one. Emerald eyes met emerald and she did not dare to look away, searching for confirmation on her assumption on the Crown Prince's silent eyes, and soon enough she did. What she had said was true.
Legolas opened his mouth to speak but the door of the room was suddenly thrown open before he could produce a sound. Her head immediately turned in its direction, her heart making a wild turn inside her chest. Tadion suddenly rushed inside the room, still in his travelling cloak, his long blond hair, the same silvery shade as Legolas and the Elvenking, dancing loosely around his face. Lossenel followed closely behind, her image that of a heavenly vision, a heavenly carved statue in pure ice, her platinum hair and pale porcelain skin looking even more stunning in the dim light.
For a second Tadion froze, his clear blue eyes fixing on Arahaelon's emerald ones, suddenly looking like a guilty elfling, silently pleading for forgiveness. She knew that the last time they had seen each other they had both been yelling, and yet this time neither spoke. For a second she expected Tadion to rush to his brother's side, and yet he did not move, as if waiting for a sign of invitation from the brother he so admired before making a move, not sure if he had yet been forgiven. But Arahaelon did not move, his face unreadable, as serene and noble as ever.
"Where were you?" The Crown Prince's voice was as unreadable as his eyes, so serene, so distant and perfectly composed, and yet she could catch a glimpse of the boiling anger and overpowering relief that burned in the depths of his emerald eyes.
"We had to take a detour." Tadion's voice was equally as unreadable and yet his permanently open and welcoming clear blue eyes regarded his brother apologetically, the pain and regret easily staining the usually playful and careless sparkle in his sea colored eyes.
Then, Tadion's eyes turned to look at Lord Elrond, a new expression she could not name now visible on his face as he spoke.
"Orcs still roam the forest, their numbers larger than I have ever seen around Mirkwood. They are too close to the Gates. They wait for something."
Her blood ran cold inside her veins and she felt her body paralyze even though her face remained calmed, her eyes not betraying her fear. How long did they have until the Orcs discovered that there was no protection around the borders?
Here is chapter 32! I hope you like it and let me know what you think of it!
Also, Happy New Year to all of you! And thank you again so much to those of you who reviewed my latest chapter! I'm still responding to reviews (I know I'm still behind) so you will get my personal thanks shortly!
Also this chapter is especially dedicated to all of you!: Nirahla Shepard, Paperlanterns86, The Lead Mare, Kirschflower, Mary Elrondile, Tintcalad, Elves are awesome, booklover1598, Martine9295, AmazingWriter123, ZabuzasGirl, and Wtiger5.
I noticed that the link for the drawings from Elerrina and Almarëa by the amazing artist Martine9295 has been erased by the site so here I'm writing the link again for those of you who would like to see drawings!
W w .com (slash) Martine9295
Love,
Elena