"Ar."
Legolas was the first to move, swiftly rushing in the direction in which the Crown Prince had been brutally pushed. With both hands tied behind his back, her eldest brother had not been able to break his fall, landing forcefully on his side on the cold damp grass. She followed closely behind, barely even aware of Tadion moving next to her. Her heart drummed wildly inside her chest, like a strangled caged bird in desperate need to flee. For a second, it seemed as though the entire forest had frozen, eyes closely watching yet nobody moved, the ghostly echo of the blood curling high pitched cry still lurking in the still air, bouncing in deaf echoes from the branches, from the leaves, from the grass.
In front of her, Legolas had dropped to his knees, not even seeming aware of the force of the collision, his infinite blue eyes momentarily wide with worry. His gentle hands were slowly helping their eldest brother to sit up on the grass when she reached their side, her own knees colliding with the muddy cold grass.
"I cannot get these off." She heard Tadion's voice muttering to her left, and only then did her eyes notice his fingers struggling with the tight knots of the ropes that bound Arahaelon's wrists, seeming to be losing his patience. A blade would have been so much faster. Only a swift cut and Arahaelon would be free. But they had no blades. And only the Valar knew what it was that awaited them.
"Let me." She heard herself saying before she could even realize she had spoken, her whole body powered by an overwhelming rush of fear, worry and adrenaline that she found hard to describe. It was as if every minute was counting down towards a horrible fate, ever second, every gust of wind, every rustle of leaves.
She took over Tadion, the later moving aside without a single word of complain, his clear blue eyes, those that always seemed to mock the world around him, to not worry about anything at all, suddenly heart-wrenchingly sober, coated with worry in their gentle depths. Her fingers were smaller than his, thinner, and she nimbly worked through the tight knots tying the strained and stained rope. A cold shudder travelled down her spine as her eyes glimpsed bright crimson patches on the thick ropes, trying with all of her might to not at the skin around Arahaelon's wrists, to concentrate purely on the knots she was attempting to untie.
"There." She sighed in only partial relief as the rope finally fell limply onto the grass, where it would forever lay forgotten. And she had to close her eyes, wincing almost involuntarily at the blistered, raw skin around the Crown Prince's wrists.
But Arahaelon had not said anything, had not even flinched in pain, merely rubbing his wrists as if absent mindedly. But she knew it must hurt. It had to be painful. It certainly looked painful. She could her Legolas asking Arahaelon something in a quiet rushed voice, the words too low for her to understand, but whatever it was the only reply he received was an almost unnoticeable nod of the head.
"You are bleeding." Tadion muttered, stating the obvious, even though she could not tell whether he was talking to himself or to the Crown Prince.
"I am fine." Arahaelon's voice was barely even audible, slightly hoarse as he spoke, smiling reassuringly at his younger brother and for a second she wanted to hit him for such a dishonest answer. He was not fine. She was no healer, but one did not need to be trained in the healing arts to be able to tell.
The Crown Prince was paler than she had ever seen him, his skin almost as white as the half-moon starting to rise above their heads. His long fine cloak was stained with blooming crimson at his right shoulder, a patch of the same bright terrifying shade growing steadily at his outer left thigh, scarlet drops pooling on the damp grass underneath him. And that was only what they could see, the injuries from where the crazed wild elf had dung that cursed blade. And she silently prayed to the Valar for those to be his only injuries, that there were no other injuries hiding from them.
She jumped in surprise as a cold hand gently landed on her left shoulder, for the first time in long minutes recalling where they were, remembering that there were so many hundreds of elves around. Her large green eyes flew up to meet a familiar pair of deep wise silver, and she immediately moved away letting the tall and regal Elf-Lord take her place by the Crown Prince.
She pushed herself to her feet, messily brushing away the stain of grass that lingered on her dress by her knees mostly out of nerves, needing something to do with her hands. Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed that both the King and Queen had appeared by their side, the later almost desperately dropping down to Arahaelon's left side, opposite to Lord Elrond.
A low hectic murmur had started to grow around the ample courtyard, distress and fear almost palpable in the air. She could see elves huddling up in pairs, in families, with loved ones, desperate eyes looking frantically from left to right, as if suddenly expecting something to jump from the darkened forest around. But all that remained was silence; a silence so loud, so empty, so filled with dread that it permeated into her very bones. Everything around them was too still, eerily still. Nothing moved. The wind did not blow. And all she could feel was the silent warning of the trees, the soft call of danger. Run. Flee. Escape.
"Keep applying pressure." She heard Lord Elrond instructing Tadion, the later pressing his own battered cloak to the bleeding gash in Arahaelon's thigh, throwing his eldest brother apologetic looks with his sky blue eyes. But once again the Crown Prince did not even flinch once, his body and face perfectly composed, calmed, powerful, and she was sure that had not been for the bleeding wounds and the terrifyingly pale tone of his skin, she would not even have guessed that he was injured at all. She could hear the Queen muttering something in that beautiful tongue she could not understand, but nobody replied.
And there it was again, that powerful, impenetrable look in his emerald eyes, always remaining so vibrant, so unreadable, so alert, sharp to everything around him, missing nothing, as if the strength of his gaze had nothing to do with the strength of his body, not betraying a single ounce of pain, of fear.
Lord Elrond's gentle hands reached to inspect the wound on the Crown Prince's shoulder, but in a split second Arahaelon's left hand flew to stop him. For a second emerald eyes met stormy grey, the look one that spoke without the need of words, her own stomach pooling with dread.
"Let me see it." The Elf Lord's deep steady voice echoed softly in the silent air, firm yet gentle. Almost immediately, the King moved, strategically lowering himself next to Lord Elrond, where his back would block any view of Arahaelon for the surrounding elves, except his family. And then, slowly, ever so slowly, Arahaelon moved his hand aside, letting the Elf-Lord's expert fingers carefully peel away the blood stained cloak. And for the first time, the Crown Prince winced, letting out a sharp hiss merely at the contact of the soft velvet cloak with his skin as it was moved aside. And then, as gentle as it was possible, Lord Elrond carefully slid the neckline of Arahaelon's tunic over his shoulder, revealing the would underneath, her eldest brother wincing and tensing at every gentle brush of the Elf Lord's fingers.
Bile rose in her throat, and for a second she was sure she was going to be sick, her eyes growing wide in horror, unable to look away from the shock. There was barely any skin left on her eldest brother's right shoulder, all that she could see was a swollen mess of bruises, blood and raw flesh, large chucks of skin missing completely, almost to the bone. Long lines of angry red raw flesh extend from his shoulder and disappeared underneath his tunic down his back. It looked as if claws had dug into his skin and brutally ripped it apart.
She had kwon it. And yet she had desperately wished that had not been the case. But part of her had already known it. Of course there was another injury. There had had to be one for him to have been unable o hold back as scream as the elf incrusted the blade into his shoulder. She could see the cut there, bleeding the most yet almost minuscule compared to the other horrendous wound covering his entire shoulder. And for a second she wondered at how he was not screaming and trashing in agony, at how he was merely sitting there in silence, his face tensed yet perfectly composed. Any other elf would probably be screaming their throats raw.
She caught sight of the Elf Lord closing his eyes at the sight, letting out a sigh with a light shake of the head, as if he himself could feel the pain of the wound with merely looking at it. Her father on the other hand had snapped his head in the direction where the crazed elves had disappeared, ice blue eyes seething with fury like burning blue fire, and she was sure that had the elves still been around, he would have ripped them to pieces with his bare hands.
But one of them still was. Her head turned in that direction, almost momentarily forgotten him. And he was still there, the dark heavy cloak still wrapped around his figure, standing completely alone to one corner of the courtyard, as though wanting to disappear. His reddish brown hair contrasted sharply against the black cloak, a red flame impossible to miss, calling all the attention the elf seemed to be trying to avoid. And she did not know how to felt about him, par to her wanting to strangle him, to make him leave, for him to punished, and yet part of her felt the slightest of sympathy, of pity for this elf who had regretted his actions, who had at least at the last minute tried to spare her eldest brother more unnecessary injuries. He had not left. She did not know why, but he had not left with the others, as if he was somehow awaiting his King's judgement, whatever it would be and whenever it would come.
"He will be dealt with in due time." A gentle soothing voice echoed softly on her left ear, her body leaning almost instinctively in his embrace as lips pressed lightly to her temple. Elladan was worried, scared even. She could feel it neatly through their bond, could see it in the uneasy coating that swirling concealed in his liquid silver eyes.
"I need to stop the bleeding, but I cannot do anything else to help right now." Lord Elrond spoke, his steady firm voice making her attention turn back to him, finding his gentle yet serious grey eyes looking straight into Arahaelon's. One of the Elf-Lord's hands held what used to be Legolas' cloak, the later having just discarded it in a quick move, eager to be of any help. He held it close to the Crown Prince's shoulders, yet not touching him still, as if giving him time to brace himself. "You are losing too much blood. It will hurt."
A single nod was all he received from an answer, Arahaelon's eyes still so impenetrable, unreadable, not betraying a single ounce of pain, even though she could see his body tensing in anticipation. Lord Elrond moved his hand, reaching the cloak to Arahaelon's shoulder, but was halted mid-way as a sudden distant high pitched cry tore through the air like a dissonant ghost, screeching, making her blood freeze to the bone, her skin crawl and hair to stand.
Suddenly ever single elf in the courtyard had frozen, eyes looking frantically from left to right, a palatable panic floating in the once again eerily silent air. Run. Every instinct seemed to be telling her to flee to escape from the imminent danger, and out of the corner of her eyes she could see other elves fidgeting nervously, panic, as if wanting, needing, to run as well, but run where? Elladan's arms suddenly tightened around her, feeling his uneasiness grow through their bond, his whole body tensing. His silver blue eyes darted across the courtyard, landing on Elrohir's and for a second they merely exchanged glances, even though she knew something was silently being said.
"Legolas." The Elvenking suddenly called, his youngest son immediately reaching his side, kneeling by Arahaelon as instructed by his father. Almost instantly, Lord Elrond handed Legolas the cloak, instructing him how to press it to Arahaelon's shoulder patiently, even though she could see the Elf-Lord's eyes also darting urgently from left to right, as if he too expected something to jump at them at any minute.
"Sorry." Was all Legolas said, his face contorting in sympathy as he gently yet firmly pressed the cloak to the Crown Prince's shoulder, the later almost immediately clenching his jaw, his eyes shutting closed tightly. The Queen whispered something in a soothing voice, the language that melodic collection of sounds she could not understand, her fingers almost instantly running down her eldest son's hair in a comforting gesture, even though the later did not seem to be aware to it, his face still contorted n visible agony.
Her father and Lord Elrond had already risen to their feet swiftly, the King throwing a look around at all the terrified elves in the courtyard. And then, her father turned to face the Elf Lord, ice blue eyes suddenly sharp, alert.
"They cannot find out it is here." The King hissed in a rush, the voice so low she barely heard it, his eyes so alert, so sharp, that for a moment it only made her fear intensity. She had never seen such alarm in her father's face, such urgency, and she did not need to ask what it was to know exactly what he was talking about. "Whatever you do, whatever happens, do not call on it, Elrond."
"How much time do we have?" The Elf Lord's voice was as urgent as her father's, and yet the sound was always that steady deep tone that somehow seemed to always find calmness even in the most stressful of situations. His father's eyes danced quickly around the courtyard once more, as if swiftly counting every single elf, a new worried look falling heavily on his icy eyes. He was still the King. Every elf in the courtyard, every elf in the realm, was still his responsibility, his duty to protect.
"About half an hour if they just crossed the gates." The King replied, ice blue eyes not turning to meet Lord Elrond but still looking through the crowd, as if trying to find someone in particular.
"Cunir!" Her father suddenly called, once again looking so impressively tall and mighty, every inch the powerful King he was.
A dark haired elf suddenly ran forward, rushing to his King at the command, the pale face one that was oddly familiar to her, having seen him a couple of times before.
"My Lord." The elf in question bowed his head quickly in respect, but did not waste any more time in protocols, merely awaiting his orders. The Valar knew that time was exactly what did not have. "Should I bring ladies and elflings inside the Palace?"
"No." The King quickly refuted the suggestion, the elf merely nodding his head in understanding, not once questioning his King's words. "The Palace is naught but a stone cage, once the enemy gest inside everyone will be trapped in there. How many outside the Palace, in the town?
"Over five thousand, my Lord." Cunir replied almost immediately, the King merely nodding his head, ice blue eyes sharp, piercing through the dark haired elf with such power that was almost intimidating. He beckoned with an elegant movement of the hand and immediately two guards were running in their direction, ready to receive instructions.
"You two will head with Cunir down into town. Evacuate every house, every building. They will be the first to be reached. Bring every elf here, and whoever own a weapon instruct them to bring them along. You have fifteen minutes to have every single elf in this courtyard."
Cunir and the two guards did not even wait for a dismissal, rushing immediately through the long stone path that twisted and disappeared through the forest, in the direction of the town. But the King was no longer looking at him, his hand already motioning for two other guards to approach, who ran in their King's direction so fast it was almost impossible.
"Look inside the Palace for any sword, bow or knife you can find. Anything that might help." Her father waved a hand dismissively, and the two guards disappeared up the Palace's front steps, not once questioning their orders.
"My Lord." A low, shaking voice suddenly called, all pair of eyes turning to land on the almost forgotten figure standing hunched and alone to one end of the courtyard. The elf seemed to stifle a wince at the mere sound of his own voice, even though he tried to stand as proud as he possibly could in his current position.
The King's icy blue eyes turned in his direction, the piercing glance one that would freeze and send trembling even the bravest and strongest to elves, taking a slow step in the elf's direction.
"Am I still your Lord?" The King's voice dripped with ice as he spoke, the sound so cold, barely a whisper, that she nearly trembled at it, one of his eyebrows raised expectantly at the elf. Almost immediately the elf's eyes lowered, once again looking hunched, the expression on his face so ashamed, so filled with regret that it almost hurt to see. But he did not answer the question. There was no way to answer that question in his current predicament. Not after what he had done.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the elf reached a pale hand inside his dark cloak, every move taking and incredible amount of time, so calculated, as if knowing that any swift or threatening move from his part would cause more than one elf to jump in his direction. And then, he pulled something out, her eyes catching firs the glimmer of silver as it reflected the pale bright rays of the half-moon above their heads. A knife; small yet elegant, but it was nevertheless a weapon. Slowly, the elf turned the knife in his hand, offering it hilt first in the King's direction, waiting for him to take it.
Cautiously, the King's slender fingers curled securely around the silver hilt, his silent ice blue eyes not once leaving the elf, so cold and hard and impossible to read, not saying a single word. And yet, once the blade was safely in the King's hand, the elf lowered his head once more, eyes turning to gaze at the dam darkened grass as if once again making himself small, unnoticeable, not worthy of his King's attention.
But the Elvenking had already called another name, three more guards rushing in his direction, the repented elf once again momentarily forgotten. But she knew her father would deal with him later, once the time was appropriate for that.
"Everyone up the trees." The King instructed, his voice echoing through the ample courtyard, loud and clear for every elf to hear. "Ladies and elfling's first, to the highest branches. Everyone else to the lower branches with me."
And then everyone moved. Suddenly, a maddened rush had taken hold of the courtyard, the elves not waiting for the instructions to be repeated. In a flash, all the elves around her were moving, organizing themselves into long ordered lines around the thicker tree trunks. Every single guard or warrior that was elf tint eh courtyard had moved to help the organized chaos, directing elves left and right, helping those closer to the tree trucks climb up, one after another. A few elflings dashed past her, nearly colliding with her legs, their large innocent eyes coated with fear, reaching for their mothers.
She spotted Lossenel some distance to her right, standing by one of the larger tree trunks in the midst of the panicked movement. The silvery rays of the half-moon pooled in her long platinum hair, paler than the stars above free from any ties or braids. Her sister's thin arms were holding up an elfling, the little one crying in frightened sobs as his small arms reached up for his mother, who was climbing up ahead of him. The dark haired lady, a face she had never seen before, turned around once she had safely reached the lowest branch, carefully taking her young son from the Princess' arms with a nod of thanks before quickly continuing her journey up the branches.
"Ada." Elladan called out just at the elegant Elf Lord passed by their left. Wise and sharp grey eyes flew in their direction, Lord Elrond suddenly halting his march, his attention focused solely on his eldest son. "What is it? What is coming?"
"Stay safe." Lord Elrond said, piercing grey eyes looking intently at his son, as if he could not stress those words enough, not wasting time in answering the question.
And she heard it; that collection lurking whispers in that strange language, floating softly in the air. She could feel its power, so strong, so vibrant, every time she was near it. She tried not to look, but she could not hold herself. It was almost calling to her, begging for attention, its presence impossible to forget. And she looked. The blue stone glowed dimly like a dormant blue flame, tied securely to that intricate gold band around the Elf- Lord's finger. Vilya. So powerful. So beautiful and alluring. So very terrifying.
As if he had caught the direction of her gaze, Lord Elrond suddenly moved his hands, concealing them both in the folds of his long burgundy cloak. Stormy grey eyes met hers, looking through her as if he could penetrate into her very mind, alert, warning.
"Do not call on it, Almarëa." He warned her, the same warning her own father had given him. Lord Elrond's voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, and yet the words the strong, a command she would not dare disobey. "It will tempt you, do not listen to it. Whatever you do, whatever happens, you must not call on it."
She nodded her head, not trusting her voice. Her forest green eyes were still trapped in that gaze of petrifying silver, feeling the weight of the warning downing on her. So that was it? That is what whatever was coming for them wanted? The elven ring of power. It always came to that did it not?
And then, another wave of fear travelled down her body like iced water. The eye had seen her. It believed she had the ring. It had felt her own power, had felt her wielding it. Almost in perfect synchronization with her thoughts she felt Elladan's arm pressing her tighter to him, and she knew he was thinking the same thing. But then, had the crazed elves known that? Could they even know that? Had they even known that whatever it was that had wanted access through the Mirkwood gates was looking for a ring of power?
"Keep her safe." The Elf-Lord added to his eldest son, not waiting for an answer before continuing his rushed march past them, in the direction of another crowd of elves, helping in the chaos. For a second, she watched his retreating form disappear through the moving crowd of elves trying to organize themselves into lines, his long velvet cloak rustling on the damp grass behind him.
The sky had gotten darker now, the pale purple that had coated the twilight air slowly sifting into deep violet. A misty canvas of weak vaporous clouds trailed before the moon, turning its rays hazy and reducing the bright greens of the forest into dark shades of blue and grey in the limited light.
"Alarya, please." Her father's voice reached her ears through the haze of voices around her. Her face turned in time to find the King arms' safely yet gently wrapped around the still fragile looking Queen, one of his hands resting tenderly over her cheek, as if trying to make her understand something.
Galion and Agoron stood to either side of the Queen, their hands carefully supporting her by the elbows in case she faltered, both of their faces looking around them with urgency and yet never saying a single word. And yet, the Queen's emerald eyes, so much like hers, were looking only at her husband, alternating from him to the Crown Prince who was still sitting on the grass by her feet, along with Legolas and Tadion.
"My Lady." Galion urged, his voice low and patient, even though his pale blue eyes betrayed his restlessness. Still, it looked as though the still weakened Queen did not wish to be dragged away into safety, not yet willing to depart from her other children, fear and resolve staining her fiery green eyes.
"Alarya." The King pleaded again, ice blue eyes staring deeply at the Queen, and for a second she almost wanted to look away at the depth of the shared glance. And then, contrary to what she expected, the Queen nodded her head, her large green eyes throwing one last glance at her children before allowing herself to be slowly and carefully led away.
"Protect her." Her father's hissed through gritted teeth as his hand landed on Lord Agoron's shoulder, the intensity of his ice blue gaze one that would make any other elf tremble. But the dark haired elf did not seem at all affected, as if he was used to those piercing eyes, to their overwhelming power and authority, merely nodding his head.
The King's eyes followed the three figures as they disappeared always higher and higher up the branches, until they were entirely out of sight, and for a second she believed he was about to follow them, as if he wanted nothing more than to take over their place, keeping the Queen safe himself. But that would not be the case. He was still the King. He was still in charge or everyone else.
"Almarëa. Lossenel." Her father suddenly called, his face turning to glance at her, finding her easily before turning to find his eldest daughter through the crowd. She reached his side in a flash, her hand moving to grasp tightly at Elladan's fingers, the later moving along with her as if he would not let her go. The snowy Princess ha reached the King's side as well, her pale green blue eyes looking at him expectantly.
"Stay with Tadion, both of you." Her father ordered, his hand lifting up in an urgent silencing gesture as Lossenel opened her mouth to protest. "I do not care how skilled you may be with the bow, Lossenel, we have no bow right now, and this one you cannot win."
The King's ice blue eyes looked intently at his eldest daughter, his perfectly angled face calmed yet stressing his words. She knew what he meant, understood exactly what it was he was saying, what their situation was. Skilled or not, she and Lossenel were still ladies, their bodies thinner their strength less. And without weapons from their part, fighting against whatever it was that was coming using only their hands would be nearly pointless. Still, Lossenel nodded her head in understanding, and she could see on the stunning Princess' face the same realization.
"Stay with Tadion." The King stressed one more time, piercing blue eyes lifting up to meet her own pair of emerald green ones this time, for a split second noticing Elladan standing next to her. "Or with the twins." The King added, nodding his head in Elladan's direction, and once again she and her older sister nodded their heads, and she knew that Elladan and Elrohir would protect Lossenel just as much as he would protect her, if it came to that.
"Tadion." Her father continued instructing, his voice rushed, yet the command in in it was unmistakable, as if he was running out of the precious little time they had. Her brother's clear blue eyes lifted up immediately at the sound of his name, even though he did not stand up from where he as kneeling next to Arahaelon, his right hand still pressing the ruined cloak firmly to the Crown Prince's thigh. "Look after you sisters. Legolas, you look after Arahaelon."
"It is the first time I hear that sentence with the names in that order." Legolas' light voice filled the air, for a split second lifting the heavy panicked atmosphere and eliciting a single chuckle from the Crown Prince, whose eyes had remained closed the entire time.
"Well, it is the first time you are the only one of my sons who does not need looking after." The King commented with a raised eyebrow, Legolas eyes momentarily widening in fake offense, a light disbelieved laughter leaving his lips.
"Arahaelon, can you climb?" The King's voice had lost all previous trace a playfulness and lightness as he addressed his firstborn son, crouching on the damp grass to be at his eye level. Her heart skipped a beat, dread suddenly pooling in her chest. Next to her, she could feel Elladan's own worry increasing through their bond, his spirit so close to hers, always by her side, part of her.
Her eldest brother had turned a couple of shades paler than the last time she had laid eyes on him only minutes ago, and she shuddered lightly at the bright crimson color the cloak held in Legolas' hand had turned, now soaked in blood which keep oozing at an alarming rate out of the Crown Prince's right shoulder. Her eldest brother's eyes blinked open, impenetrable serene green meeting her father's worried ice blue irises for a long second before slowly shaking his head from side to side, the move barely even noticeable. No.
The Elvenking's eyes fell closed, a pained fearful look crossing his face for a fragment of a second before his eyes opened again, his face once again that perfectly calmed gentle expression. He opened his mouth to speak, but another high pitched cry tore through the night-lit air, sending cold shivers down her spine, her blood running cold. Tadion's eyes flew around him immediately, urgently scanning the forest, suddenly alarmed anxious. A frantic new despair took hold of the courtyard, the elves moving faster down the lines, climbing up the branches with new speed. Every Lord, warrior, guard or ellon was still waiting down, staying behind, aiding and waiting for every elleth, lady or elfling to rush up the branches first.
"Can you stand?" Her father's voice asked his firstborn son again, this time more rushed, icy blue eyes jumping from his eldest son's figure to Tadion's left shoulder, where she knew his healing injury still lay concealed.
Arahaelon nodded his head, and instantly her father moved to ever so gently help him rise to his feet, Tadion and Legolas aiding along once it became evident that the Crown Prince would need help staying upright. Her eldest brother's left hand dripped tightly to Tadion's uninjured shoulder for support, balancing all of his weight on his right leg. And yet, all through the movement, which she knew must have been painful, his face had remained that perfectly calmed soft expression, emerald eyes ever so patient, serene, impenetrable. Her father's eyes met Tadion's and Legolas' briefly, something silently being said without the need of words. And then the King's eyes met Arahaelon's impenetrable emerald ones.
"You are in no condition for that now." The King spoke softly yet authoritative, and slowly, after a few seconds, Arahelon nodded his head in complete silence, those piercing green eyes always so unreadable, so impossible to decipher, not a single one of his thoughts visible through their glass barriers.
And then, Tadion and Legolas were moving, as fast as the obviously limping Arahaelon could allow. She felt Elladan moving first, absently hearing Lossenel calling out her name urgently before she started to move as well, following her siblings even though she had no idea where to. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see the King throwing them one las worried glance before he turned around in dash, once again the strong majestic King he was, moving around the panicked crowd, organizing elves and giving instructions. Many elves rushed past them, the few that noticed them quickly getting out of their way as they moved to one edge of the courtyard, just where the thick darkened forest started.
"What did my father mean by that? What was he talking about? In no condition for what?" She asked Elladan silently through their bond as they moved, rounding a long line of elves barely starting to climb up the branches. A new loud commotion had suddenly appeared through the opposite end of the courtyard, the number of panicked voices suddenly intensifying. She glanced swiftly over her shoulder, only to find that Cunir and the two guards had returned, along with a seemingly endless crowd of elves that were now being instructed to climb of the trees at the Kings command. So the town had been evacuated.
"Arahaelon is Crown Prince, Rina." Elladan answered her almost immediately, even his silver eyes too had turned to glance at the new tide of rushing elves. "His title demands him to leave last in a situation like this one, along with the King. Normally, he should have stayed with your father and retreat to safety after everyone else had done so, and he most certainly should not have been sent to safety with the first elves. But worry not. No elf will react to this breach of protocol. Not when it was overly evident that Arahaelon cannot stay and help, much less fight right now. That changes things, although I am sure Arahaelon does not see it that way. He and your father should stay last, however, if either one is injured, then they become priority. It is the Kings duty to protect his subjects, but it also the duty of his subjects, guards and warriors to protect their King at all costs. Same with the Crown Prince. But you try to be the one telling Arahaelon that."
The moved through the trees as fast as they slow pace could allow them, the cold night air hanging hollowly in the night. Her feet brushed against the fresh grass, hearing the occasional faint crunch of crack of fallen leaves and twigs in her way. Turning her head behind her back, she could still clearly see the bright opening of the courtyard, the panicked rushed voices of the elves there still giving orders, moving along as fast as they could. All around them, elves rushed past them into the forest, always staying close to the courtyard, climbing up the thick tree trunks around. Her green eyes lifted up, looking at the high majestic canopy of intertwining branches far above their head. Elves were everywhere, going higher and higher through the branches, let and right. Some stretched their hands down to pull loved ones up, the ladies and elflings so high above that she could barely see them.
The breeze whispered in her ear, those voices, those murmurs, ever so powerful, suddenly too present, as if it kept reminding her it was there, so close. Vilya.
Her attention turned again in front of her, falling on the backs of Tadion and Legolas, who were still helping a limping Arahaelon move along the dark uneven forest ground as quickly as possible. And yet, even though he was obviously limping and leaning on his younger brothers, the Crown Prince's stance was surprisingly steady, his moves not betraying any sort of pain, elegant, tall, just as he had stood those crazed elves had dragged him out into the courtyard, as if nothing was absolutely wrong with him. But it was not right. His skin was far too pale, and even though his shoulder and leg were still openly bleeding, she did not believe that was the only cause for his alarming pallor.
"Dan, you and Ro are healers." She suddenly remembered, the though popping up into her mind and she held onto it like a drowning man hopefully holds to a floating log. Her eyes glance behind her shoulder for a second, landing momentarily on the younger twin's tall figure, rushing along the forest next to Lossenel. "Can you…."
"I doubt he will let us even take a look, but I would not dare do that right now. Not if it does not become necessary." Elladan answered her before she could finish her question, and for a second it was as if her hopeful log had sunk, and she was sinking with it. Still she knew she did not even need to finish her question, Elladan able to feel her every through clearly through their bond. "Not until the chaos has died and everything is calmed again. But I agree with you, Rina. There are injuries he is not showing us."
"Why will you not dare?" She did not understand; he was barely making any sense to her. And yet, when his silver eyes turned to look at her she felt her inside suddenly drop, her chest clenching at the new sober look that coating his now heavy serious silver eyes. And she could feel it through their bond, his slight hesitation, as if he did not want to hide anything from her yet did not really want to tell her.
"I know not how those injuries were inflicted, my love." He let her know, his voice sounding as sober and heavy as his steely eyes inside her mind. For a second she did not understand his sudden seriousness, what that had to do with anything. "If they are consequences of battle it is one thing. Those I will dare heal. But I know not where Arahaelon has been for the past days, only that he has been held captive. And if there are wounds that ere consciously and purposely inflicted while prisoner….It is not the same, Rina…not for an elf. The trauma for both the spirit and mind is not the same. If the latter is the case, then I ignore how he will react once his injuries are tended to. Therefore, I would rather wait until we know for sure."
But she had seen a similar look before crossing her father's eyes in the courtyard only minutes ago, once the gruesome injury in Arahaelon's shoulder had been revealed. Lord Elrond had been slower in stopping the bleeding too, had warned him first, waited even for a nod from his part. She shudders involuntarily, shaking the thoughts from her head.
Another cry echoed through the forest, her heart rising to her throat. It was close. Too close. In front of her, Legolas eyes darted to their left, from where the sound had come in the distance, his infinite blue eyes betraying an un characteristic fear that only made her freeze.
"Quickly." Tadion was the one to speak, his voice so urgent that it only made her instincts tell her once again to run, to flee, to escape while she could. Vilya whispered again through the air, the echo of a thousand low whispers suddenly more powerful, as if it could sense the danger, as if wanted to act upon it.
For the first time she noticed that Tadion had turned to the left, the ground suddenly descending in a tight opening by the trunk of a massive tree. The thick roots around the tree protruded out of the ground like giant walls, twirling and intertwining in a labyrinth, higher than her. A small opening was left through the protruding roots, their natural shape creating a sort of concealed cage by the base of the massive trunk.
In front of her Tadion and Legolas were helping Arahaelon limp inside the confined opening as fast as he possibly could, Legolas following quickly behind. And then she was slipping through, needing to sit and nearly crawl under a branch to reach their hiding place, Elladan closely behind.
Inside, the roots trailed over their heads like a misshapen dome, the ground here only a couple of steps lower that the forests ground, leaving her able to see the forest around her through the gaps in the roots, at the level of her neck. She did not even hear Elrohir and Lossenel slipping into the space, Tadion following last. Her eyes were too focused on looking through the gaps, at the forest ground, angling her face to look up at the surrounding trees, where she could now see Ellyn, lords and warriors standing expectantly in complete silence. In one of the distant branches, she could even see the King, his long waterfall of silvery blond hair impossible to miss, standing completely still in one of the lowest branches, one hand held elegantly up in a gesture for complete silence, all elves seeming to be focused on him, awaiting any command.
And yet, even though they were concealed from view, she could not help but feel more dread pooling in her stomach and rushing through her veins. They were at the ground level. Whatever was coming for them, they were still at its reach. They would have to keep quiet. Completely quiet, and hope for the best. Her eyes darted behind her, landing on the place where Legolas was helping Arahaelon slowly sit down and lean against one of the roots farthest from the opening, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt for having silently wished she were at the higher branches like the rest of the elves.
Another cry tor through the night, this time followed by many others, coming from left and right, and everywhere around them. The night air was suddenly too still, clogging, warning. She could feel it inside every inch of her body, inside her bones. Danger. Run. And then, there were footsteps, running, heavy, drumming on the damp forest earth and almost making it tremble.
Their time was up….
Here is chapter 56! First chapter of the year! Haha Happy New Year to all of you and merry belated Christmas! I know it's a cliffhanger but you'll have to wait until the next chapter for the action to start ( it was too long otherwise)….hopefully everyone will live? Also, I can't update from now to the end of January, but I will update as soon as I can after that! Let me know what you think!
Thank you so much again to everyone who left comments of the last chapter. I read all of your words and can't tell you how much they mean to me, every little thought or reaction you had to parts really does mean a lot. Amsmim, AndurilofTolkien, Ari-Skywalker, Yaulewen, Hyuuga Senpai, Guest reviewers, glassary, Flower-Uchiha, Saum the Smol Teddy, and brandibuckeye.
Love,
Elena