Yeah...guess I should have warned you that "presumed dead" in my stories almost never means "dead". In fact, it usually means "ultra-psycho cliffhanger just waiting to happen".
One final warning: This may be the chapter you've been waiting for
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Fear No Darkness
Thilator slammed him against the ground with a dazing blow. "I see Corben has had his fun," he sneered, pressing down on one wound on the prince's back. Legolas cried out and struggled weakly, but Thilator easily rolled him over and pinned him with a knife at his throat.
"I no longer regret letting you live for so long," Thilator growled, letting his blade barely nick the younger elf's neck. "This...this is much more satisfying than slaughtering a brattish elfling when none were around to help him. Not that it would have helped," he added, his eyes menacing. "After all, your dear father and your precious family were the ones who left you in our hands...or do you really believe they were always ignorant of my sister's actions?"
Legolas refused to rise to the tutor's implication. "You lie."
Thilator roared with rage, yanking the knife away and striking Legolas across the face with the handle. "Why would I lie? After everything I have been through, why would I lie?"
The former tutor stilled for a moment, and with wide eyes Legolas saw the bleeding wound on the dark-haired elf's stomach. "Your wound..."
"What matter is my death if you are dead?" Thilator demanded, raising the knife. Legolas bucked and tried to twist away, only to scream as the blade sunk into his shoulder.
"I take no chances this time," the dark-haired elf panted, slowly twisting the blade. "I will watch the life drain out of your eyes myself."
His vision hazing with pain, Legolas could only stare up at Thilator until the elf's ice-blue eyes seemed to blur and blend with another pair. And suddenly, it seemed as though Amarthwen was staring out at him through Thilator's eyes.
Bits of memory flashed through his mind. One thousand small acts of neglect...things Amarthwen had said or done that had hurt him...years of lies...her cruel laugh as she locked him in the dungeon with a spider for company...his hidden fear in Imladris that every messenger from Mirkwood would bring her to torment him further...and that awful final moment in the palace hall when she had been shot down, killed with the dagger still upraised to murder him.
He whimpered in pain as Thilator slowly pulled the blade out, blackness flickering at the edges of his vision. It would be so easy to succumb...he was tired of fighting this shadow, tired of being beset by darkness at every turn.
The darkness was too much...his eyes seemed to close on their own and he could feel himself slipping away...
No one knew the youngest prince had taken to sleeping with a lit candle on the table beside his bed.
Amarthwen had been dead for nearly seven days, but he could not bring himself to sleep without the candle lit. This night, he had fallen asleep as usual but awoke in sudden terror when his room was darkened.
Legolas could sense a strange presence beside him, and recoiled in blind fear when a hand touched his arm.
"Legolas? What is wrong?"
He panicked, thrashing off the bed and landing on the floor hard enough to pain his injured arm. He saw a flicker of light, then a bright flame lit on the wick of the candle to illuminate Brithdil's concerned features. "Are you all right? Did something happen?"
Panting, Legolas could only shake his head, ashamed at his own cowardice.
Brithdil seemed to sense that something else was wrong, and set the candle on the bedside table before kneeling beside the prince and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry...I came in to speak with you and when I saw that you were sleeping I thought I should extinguish the candle."
Shame brought a flush to the prince's cheeks, and he could not meet Brithdil's eyes.
The captain was quiet for a moment. "Have you been sleeping with the candle lit?"
A single hot tear rolled down Legolas' cheek. "I have had to keep it lit since..." his voice trailed off, and he lowered his face miserably.
"Since Amarthwen's death?" Brithdil guessed gently, pulling the younger elf close. "I do not blame you...I have had my share of dark moments and she did little to me."
Legolas leaned against Brithdil, heart aching at his own fear. Brithdil's presence was comforting...the captain was one of the very few who had visited him regularly in Imladris, and it would have been a cruel blow had his cowardice lost him that friendship.
"They are only shadows, Legolas," Brithdil said, gesturing to the darkness that flickered at the edge of the candlelight. "No shadow is so strong that a single point of light cannot break it."
"It is so dark here," he replied in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Even in daylight the forest seemed dark when compared to the light he had known in Imladris. All was darkness to him in this place...oppressive darkness, overwhelming his spirit and threatening to send him back into the shadow.
It seemed he could sense Brithdil's smile, and for a moment the captain hugged him closer. "You are dearly loved, Legolas. No matter what lies you may hear, no matter how deeply you despair, you will always be in our hearts. The world may seem dark, but keep our love close and you will have a light within you that can shatter any shadow.
"Remember you are loved, and fear no darkness."
Legolas' eyes snapped back open. With a sudden burst of strength, he broke free from Thilator's chokehold, pushing the older elf's chin up and away to gain leverage to roll to one side. Shunting away the pain that shot through his body, Legolas staggered to his feet and turned to face Thilator, fighting to keep upright.
He nearly stumbled, clutching his useless arm to his side as he backed away from the dark-haired elf.
Thilator roared in pain and picked himself up, one hand pressing against the bloody wound in his belly. He still held the knife, Legolas' own blood still thick on the blade, and with another roar he attacked.
Legolas met his attack, collapsing to his knees with a whimper as Thilator's full strength bore down on him. The knife was inches from his chest, and he doubled over as Thilator drove a knee into his middle.
The former tutor managed to wrestle him to his knees, twisting his good arm behind his back and placing the tip of the knife blade against Legolas' neck. "Tell them to stop and submit to the humans," Thilator growled, forcing the prince's chin up so he could see his friends still fighting Corben's men. They had noticed his predicament, but it seemed they could not break from the men they were fighting to come to his aid. He could not see Estel, though. What had happened to the young human?
"Tell them to lay down their weapons," Thilator nearly shrieked, shaking Legolas.
"I would rather die," the prince spat, stiffening as the tutor's hold changed. Thilator's knee pressed into his back, holding him immobile, and the tutor's knife slid under his chin.
"That can be arranged," the dark-haired elf hissed. "Tell them to lay down their weapons or I will...with your screams."
When Legolas still refused, Thilator drew his knife up to cut a long slash in the prince's cheek.
The blade was still against his cheek when Thilator let out a surprised-sounding gasp and half-sagged to one side. Not stopping to wonder at this sudden change of fortune, Legolas wrenched himself painfully free, fighting to twist the knife away from Thilator.
A second pair of hands joined him, and he risked a glance to see Estel. Of course...the young human had been able to knock Thilator aside enough to give Legolas a chance to escape, but the blond elf did not know if that would be enough to defeat him.
Thilator roared, releasing the knife to grab Legolas' wrist, and kicking Estel away. The prince knew not where his foe's strength came from...surely he must be nearly dead from his wound. Some madness had seized Thilator, and in that instant Legolas knew it would take nothing less than death to stop his former tutor.
A blow to his face stunned him, and in a moment he found himself on his back on the forest floor again, trying to keep Thilator's knife from slitting his throat.
"You are wounded," he managed to gasp in one last attempt to reason with the dark-haired elf. "You are dying...let us help you..."
"My death does not matter any longer," Thilator wheezed, half-collapsing against Legolas. "I ask only for the strength to see you dead."
Legolas shuddered as the knife came closer. Fighting a gasp of pain, he pushed back against Thilator's wrists with both hands, the pain tearing through his injured shoulder nauseating.
The tutor screamed in frustration, but to Legolas all the world seemed to narrow onto that blade. He bit his lip in concentration, willing his pain and fatigue away as he focused solely on turning the blade away from his neck.
Slowly the blade began to turn away from Legolas. Thilator seemed not to notice, his face clouded with fury and pain as he spat curses and oaths at the prince. The knife was half turned, the tip pointed slightly toward the dark-haired elf when Legolas felt his hands slip. He panicked, unable to keep his hold on the knife as Thilator's last reserves of strength fled.
But he had held on long enough. Thilator's dying body collapsed, burying the knife up to its hilt in his heart even as he still sought to twist the blade toward Legolas.
The elf's icy blue eyes stared vacantly into Legolas', and Thilator gave one final shudder before going terribly still, his eyes glazing over in death.
May my death haunt you forever...
Legolas shivered at the memory of Thilator and Amarthwen's words, then someone was shoving the tutor's body off of him.
"Legolas?" Estel was bending over him, worry written deep in his gray eyes.
Hesitant arms encircled him as Estel tried to lift him, to move him away from Thilator's body but Legolas turned away, his battered body shaking with relief mingled with an odd sort of fear. The world seemed to grow cold and spun around him, and he vaguely heard the young human calling out to his brothers in concern but all of that was fading. Released from the strain of fighting for his life, Legolas closed his eyes as his consciousness slipped away.
Thilator was dead...it was finally over.
Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers?
What's the secret to this speedy update? I was so excited to be getting to this chapter I very nearly had it finished before the last chapter was ready to post.