Chapter 23

The further south the trio went into the forest the darker and more deadly it appeared to grow and the more Aragorn's fears for his friend increased. Hurrying on after his brothers he began to realize exactly why those of Thranduil's realm had retreated back from this area so far and why Legolas had always spoken of the south with such sorrow.

A rustle in the trees caused him to turn sharply to peer behind him just in time to see a small, brown bird take flight and he wondered that anything still called this oppressive place home. He shivered and clutched his drawn sword tighter in his hand, they had been beset by the grotesque giant spiders so many times now and with such astonishing stealth and speed that he preferred to be readily armed for the next attack. Although, they were not the only problems that the trio had encountered.

It felt as if they had been forging their way through the forest for a lifetime. For each step forwards they appeared to take three back. Straight, wide paths opened up before them only to twist and end in tangled bramble bushes far too dense to penetrate, entailing much cursing and retreat in order to try to find an alternative route. It was all taking too much time. Time that Aragorn was sure Legolas did not have. He winced as a long, slender branch suddenly whipped at his cheek, leaving a thin red line in its wake.

"I do believe the very trees themselves are trying to keep us from our goal!" Blood smeared as he wiped the back of his hand across his face to ease the sting.

"You are not wrong, brother mine." Elrohir looked back with a resigned smile. "I have never felt such anger and hatred as is held within this part of the forest and I am no wood elf!"

"Aye," The eldest twin had turned from his lead position to face the younger pair. "It is as a thick blanket trying to smother us." He gestured ahead to the thick undergrowth marking the end of the latest, narrow path they had been following. "I do not see a way through here, we will have to turn back." Resignation coloured his words as he raised his hands in exasperation. "Valar! What I wouldn't give for a dwarf with a good sharp axe!"

"'Dan!" Aragorn and Elrohir remonstrated in unison as a deep moaning sound rent the air and the trees began to wave and bend as if in a gale although not a breath moved the air. A long vine suddenly dropped from one of the gnarled oak's towering above them, wrapped itself around their brother's ankles and pulled him up into the air where he hung, upside down squirming in an effort to reach the knife, habitually worn at his belt, in order to cut himself free.

"Keep still you fool!" Elrohir hissed at his brothers struggling form as he carefully edged closer to the tree from which his brother was suspended. "Drawing your blade at this point would not be a good idea."

"Well, what would you have me do?" Elladan whispered forcefully back. "It has me held fast, if you hadn't noticed." He glared down at his twin, yet ceased his struggles and hung, limply from his bonds.

"Just give me a moment."

Elrohir had reached the tree and his brothers watched warily as he extended a hand to place it upon the oaks, roughened trunk then squeezed his eyes closed in deep concentration.

A moment later Elladan found himself dropped, unceremoniously onto his head as the vine let go and rewound up into the trees branches.

"What did you?"

"Quickly, no time to explain," the younger twin broke into his brothers question with breathless haste. "Just get up and start walking," he continued, pulling his brother to his feet. "That way, now!"

With an urgent look at Aragorn, Elrohir quickly shepherded his siblings away from the tree and down a narrow path that they were sure had not existed a moment before.

To the brothers amazement the path had remained free and clear for quite a distance yet Elrohir had refused to stop or even discuss what had happened with the oak tree for some considerable time. Eventually, after the path had widened slightly to allow two abreast, Elladan had moved up besides his twin and placing a hand lightly upon his shoulder, had whispered his thanks. The smile he received in reply was tight and small.

"You would have done the same, muindor."

"I would not have known how." The elder replied with a frown. "We are no wood elves, I do not understand how you managed to speak with the tree at all."

"Neither do I, if truth be told." Elrohir halted and turned to face his twin as he spoke. "And it wasn't really speech. It was just." He stared up at the surrounding trees. "I have seen Legolas do it so many times, I thought maybe if I tried hard I could." The words seemed hard to find. "I have never been so surprised as when it worked." He shrugged his shoulders a look of wonderment upon his face.

"But what did you say? How did you get it to release me?" The frown upon Elladan's face had increased.

"I said naught." Elrohir replied slowly, thinking through the moment carefully. "It just felt, as if I was being opened and read like a book." He closed his eyes. "I wanted to beg for your release but it could not hear me and I could not hear it. I was overwhelmed, all thought, all feelings gone. I was laid bare." His eyes lost focus as the memory overtook him. "Power, there was so much power and sadness and rage. Almost as if." He broke off, opening his eyes to reveal the confusion swimming within their grey depths. "Almost as if a madness was upon it."

"I have heard Legolas speak of this." Aragorn shrugged at the questioning look in his brother's eyes. "He has oft said that in trying to resist the spreading darkness the trees are driven mad." He continued sadly. "I thought it was just a manner of speech but this must be what he meant."

"Mad indeed." Elrohir nodded. "I do not think I would like to try that again, even for you, brother." He chuckled wryly at his twin.

"Well." Elladan clapped a hand upon his brother's shoulder. "Let us hope you do not have to." He allowed his gaze to wander around the trees that seemed to be leaning closer in than before. "I suppose we have no choice but to continue along this path." He gestured to the single, clear way that was, miraculously still open before them. "I do not suppose you gleaned any idea of where it may lead?"

"Nay," Elrohir replied softly. "I just knew we had to go then or not at all."

"Well." Aragorn hefted his sword in his hand and took a deep breath. "As you say 'dan, we have no choice." He smiled resignedly "So we may as well go and find out exactly where this path leads." Without waiting for his brothers he strode off between the trees.

.

~o~

.

An air of mourning lay over the halls and Gallion could not suppress the shiver that ran down his spine as he walked into the room where his king had been brought after his collapse some three or four days previously. He was unsure exactly how much time had passed, day and night seeming to merge together in an unending stream of questions and worried faces but it was long enough to encourage anxious whisperings and gossip amongst the inhabitants.

Moving silently across the room he nodded a greeting to the healer seated in the chair beside the large bed before allowing his gaze to rest upon its inert inhabitant.

"There has been no change, my lord." The healer's voice, though pitched soft and low, sounded loud to Gallion's ears amid the silence of the room as she rose to her feet, offering him the chair.

"Hannon le." He sighed, lowering himself into the vacated seat and reaching out to gently stroke one of the long, pale hands that rested atop the smooth, white silk sheet. "I will remain here for a while." He looked up at the healer and smiled sadly. "Go, get some rest Faerval. I know you have allowed no other to take your place at his side since." He broke off as the healer opened his mouth to protest. "Nay." He spoke firmly, brooking no refusal. "You will be of no use to your king if you deplete yourself too much."

With a grateful smile Faerval acquiesced, bowing slightly before turning and heading to the door.

"Please." As he reached for the door handle he looked back, "Send for me if." His voice broke and he swallowed in an effort to maintain his professional air before beginning again. "Send for me if you have need."

Gallion nodded in acknowledgement of both words and emotions before watching as he slipped out of the room, then turned his attention back to the figure laying so still in the bed beside him.

"Aie, Thranduil," He whispered sadly. "What is to become of you?"

The only reply was the soft rustle of the sheet as it rose and fell over the slight movement from the chest beneath.

.

~o~

.

Coming to his senses once more and relishing the last remaining pleasurable tingles rushing through his body, the elf surveyed the scene before him and smiled. His master would be pleased. He had left none standing. Taking a deep breath he savoured the metallic scent of death upon the air, rolling the taste around on his tongue as his body began to reawaken in remembrance of the violence thus evoked. He moved around the large cavern in which he had been fighting, stepping lightly amongst the corpses, checking for life, half hoping to find a spark with which to quench his newly risen thirst yet knowing if there were any alive he would face another long, lonely spell in the dark cell as punishment. All were dead. He straightened up from his inspection of the last, dismembered corpse, rubbing fingers sticky with black blood together before wiping them across the front of his bare chest, leaving four parallel smears from nipple to nipple. A frisson of pleasure ran through his body and he closed his eyes to preserve the moment, exhaling slowly before inhaling once more the heady aroma of musk and death.

"Come."

The single word of command released him from the bloodlusts thrall and he stood, panting and trying desperately to bring his wayward body back under control before moving to stand before the cowled figure who had been standing in the shadows watching the deadly proceedings with increasing enjoyment .

"You have done well, little one." Soft as velvet the voice insinuated itself into his mind. "Do not fret so." It continued its silky caress. "To feel is to live and life is to be enjoyed. There is no wrong in taking pleasure in your enjoyment."

Placing a gloved hand upon the elf's shoulder the witch king repressed the shiver of delight that had become his usual reaction to being able to feel the sensation of living flesh beneath his fingers, albeit through the leather gauntlets he habitually wore. To show his true feelings at this precarious point in the elf's training would only serve to drive him away and that would not please his own master at all after all the planning and preparation that had led to this point. Far better to await the moment of complete and utter surrender when the elf would come to want him of his own volition.

"Your reward awaits."

After a gentle squeeze the wraith removed his hand from the muscular shoulder to gently place it in the small of the elf's back, shepherding him away from the scene of devastation and out into the large, dimly lit staircase that spiraled up into the main body of the old fortress. Watching the lithe figure climb the stairs before him he allowed his mind to wander back to the amazing show of deadly ability he had just witnessed. The elf had exceeded all his expectations.

The days since the youngster's inevitable breakdown had been spent pitching him against an ever increasing number of opponents, there was a ready supply of orcs available and he had risen to the challenge with increasing enjoyment reinforced by the continued applications of herbal intoxicants and mental manipulations during the brief moments of reverie he was allowed. This latest bout had, however been somewhat different and proved just how far the elf had come. Of the twenty opponents he had just lethally dispatched ten had, this time, been men and he had been more than satisfied to see no sign of hesitation or concern as they had been dispatched with the same ruthless efficiency as the orcs.

Reaching the top of the long staircase they turned to the right and walked along a stone corridor, lit by burning torches placed high in ornately carved sconces. Passing three unlit side passages they came to a fourth that bore a single torch halfway along its short length and the witch king once more placed his hand in the middle of the elf's back, gently pushing him along to the heavy, wooden door that lay at its end.

"Enter." He leaned forward to breathe the word into the delicately pointed ear before him and increased the pressure from his hand slightly in encouragement as the elf reached out to grasp a gilded handle.

The room they entered was large with dark tapestries covering the grey stone walls and shadows dancing in the corners where the candlelight did not penetrate. The elf allowed his gaze to wander over the furnishings, appearing to notice his surroundings for the first time since they had left the deep cavern. Settling his eyes upon the huge bed in the centre he walked slowly towards it, drinking in its tall wooden posts, gauzy drapes and soft pillows as a man dying of thirst. He reached out to touch the soft, silken sheets as if expecting them to disappear like a mirage and his face filled with wonder when they proved to be real. Turning, he raised questioning eyes to his master and waited with baited breath to hear if he really would be allowed this luxury for the night. To sleep in a real bed and not upon the hard pallet with its noisome blanket would be more reward than he could possibly have hoped for.

"For tonight, this will be your room." The witch king watched as longing was chased from the elf's eyes by disbelief and joy. "And for as long as you continue to please me."

Choking back a sob the youngster fell to his knees at the wraiths feet.

"But." The wraith continued stonily. "Be careful, youngling. Displease me and you will be back in your dark cell before you have time to think about it." The room seemed to darken with his words.

"Thank you, my lord. I. I will not displease you. I. I promise. Whatever you want. Just ask. I will do. Anything."

All sense of pride or self had gone. Terror of the dark, of being left alone, of being shunned by the only person left to him had snuffed it out like a candle in the breeze through an open window. Tears filled his eyes as he stared up into the shadowed face above him and whispered a final word.

"Anything."

A/N

*Hides behind sofa*

Please don't kill me! Blame that horrid wraith. He made me do it!

As usual I want to thank all those of you still reading and especially my wonderful reviewers - Bettsam07,Obsidianglasses and Nircele you are all awesome!

Please let me know what you think :)