Hello everyone, how are you all keeping? Currently I am sick, boo! But yay I have some time to write :) And I have had a ball writing this chapter! I think we need a catch up with Legolas and some Thranduil action this time round? Anyway I hope you like it, you guy's are the judges?!
Okay so THANK YOU GUYS for the lovely reviews of chapter 10, especially after my near nervous breakdown about posting! I love that everyone thinks Ellenya and Elladan are great for each other.
So merci beaucoup Win Lockwood (is that right did I speak french or did I completely insult you :S) who's amazing support of this story makes it easier to write! And the unsigned reviewer, your pretty awesome and Im glad you liked the chapter. I sort of have this image of Thranduil and I know most people think he is an ass but I do like him, so Im happy you like my depiction of him! Celticank lovely to hear from you, glad you like the chapter! Also thanks to the followers as always :)
I will be quiet now...as always let me know what you think, I love hearing from you guys :)
11. Not Afraid
Lothlorien was quiet, too quiet for one distracted elf. Legolas lay on the ground on his back watching the glow of the ethereal lights slowly fade; the only lights now visible were those high in the branches illuminating the interconnecting talans. Here on the ground things were darker and quieter, the Galadhrim giving their guests space and peace to rest, none of which Legolas was able to indulge in. His mind was too active, he had a niggling suspicion that things were not all as they should be at home, and he worried both on a personal level for his family and on a larger scale for his home and its people's safety. There was nothing he could do for them now, he had left the care of his home to Tauriel and the more than capable guard, but that did not make the separation or the burden of worry any lighter.
Eventually giving up on any notion he had of resting, the woodland prince got to his feet and went for a walk. His footsteps were heavier and his heart still hurt a little, Mithrandir's passing was not an easy thing to get over. The wizard was their hope or least Legolas' hope, who would guide them now into Mordor and who would be wise enough to anticipate the dark plans of the enemy? Yes they had Aragorn, who was instructed enough in the ways of the world to get them to their destination and Gimli, who despite being a continuous thorn in his side was proving a very useful ally, his stubbornness would ensure they survived to the bitter end. Boromir too had connections, his knowledge of the land they were to soon cross would be invaluable, but Legolas was concerned for the mortal man, his spirit was conflicted and something about the steward made the elf move uneasily around him. Legolas himself could read the land and as an elf was better equipped to anticipate the enemy and he could heal if it was needed, though not with the same power or ability as a wizard. His worries rested on the halflings, though they were courageous and with spirits worth more than ten men, they were naive and overwhelmed. Mithrandir at least knew how to give them courage and keep them hopeful, Legolas was not sure if he or any of the remaining fellowship could maintain that for them, but the elf would try after all he was the most cheerful one.
Legolas found himself now standing at a grassy bank, staring out at the tree's letting them rejuvenate him and give his mind some clarity. But as he stood the same thrill of fear crept up his spine and a sense of urgency to react to something filled his head, the elf shook his head, these feelings were constant now! Everytime he stopped to listen to the forest he was filled with a sense of distress like the woods tried to tell him something, wishing him to watchful or mindful. Infuriatingly Legolas could not decipher the words of a trees song, only the briefest inclination of what it might feel. It was skill he relentlessly tried to hone and develop; a skill he hoped would bring him closer to his Naneth.
"I say master elf! Do you hear me?" came a gruff and unhappy sound from somewhere below and to the left of the Prince. Legolas had been too wrapped up in the confusing tones of the wood to register the irate dwarf in his presence; he sighed and twitched his head in the direction of Gimli's voice.
"Yes Gimli I hear you," he answered, "it is quite hard to not hear you with that thundering voice!"
"Oh is that so, well then why did you not answer me the first several times I called ye?" Gimli barked in annoyance at the elf's arrogance, though he was softening towards the son of his nemesis, Legolas did not seem at all like his Father. Not that Gimli had ever met Thranduil, but he had heard plenty of stories and the dwarf had resolved if he ever did, he would give that pompous elf king a right piece of his mind.
"I was listening to the trees-" Legolas began to explain when he noted the furry, red, eyebrow of the dwarf hike up his forehead about several inches. "What do you want Gimli?"
"Do the trees talk a lot to you laddie?" Gimli asked with mild amusement.
"Yes…I mean No! It is an elven ability you could not possibly understand! Is there a point to your visit?" Legolas fumed at the ignorant dwarf.
"No, Aragorn was worried about ye, sap that he is. Thought one of us should make sure you were not running away," Gimli replied sarcastically.
"So you came to check on me?" Legolas asked with mock confusion, "Master dwarf that is so very thoughtful of you and here I thought we were sworn enemies, your caring nature touches me."
"I do not care! I just happened to be passing this way!" Gimili defended a little too hastily.
"Ah well that is a shame," Legolas smirked and returned to gazing out at the trees.
Gimli watched the elf curiously for a few moments, he did not hear anything from the trees, maybe it was an elvish magic? The dwarf finally harrumphed and shook his head at his own stupidity. 'Talking trees? What nonsense!' he thought silently and turned to spy Aragorn amble through the foliage.
"It is alright Aragorn, pointy ears here has just gone abit mad, believes the trees are conversing with him. Best leave him be don't want to upset the poor creature." Gimli added with a sympathetic look and tapped his head with his fore finger. Legolas rattled slightly at the insinuation that he was crazy but practiced elven composure and ignored the whole statement.
"And what do the trees speak of tonight Legolas?" Aragorn called ignoring Gimli's silent gestures that questioned the elf's sanity.
"Not you too!" Gimli frowned, "Am I the only sane one in this entire group!"
Aragorn pushed passed the grumbling dwarf and dug him hard on the shoulder, which earned a few more complaints and huffs from Gimli. "You would be wise to heed Legolas, Gimli, the trees never lie."
Legolas smirked at the exchange but remained for the most part impassive, feigning disinterest in their conversations. He gracefully inclined his head to his new leader and resumed his watchfulness of the wood. Aragorn fished out his pipe and began to settle himself down for a patient wait on his friend eventually answering him. One thing the man had learnt with his upbringing among the elves, they speak only when they want to, not when someone of a lesser race demands it off them.
"Something stirs me, these trees sing like they wish me to know something, yet I cannot understand. It is most frustrating to be so inadequate!" Legolas finally admitted and crossed his arms about his chest annoyance evident in his features.
"Must be terrible to be so inadequate," Aragorn mused and tapped his pipe to his chin, "Enviable looks, eternal youthfulness, unmatched skill in battle, a noble prince, yet he cannot understand the trees when they speak! What a terrible disappointment you must be to your kin Legolas, you should be ashamed."
Legolas eyed his friend with a not so amused look before shoving him hard, making Aragorn stumble forward. "Be quiet little boy! Do not insult an elf or his make light of his flaws."
"Legolas friend, you berate yourself too harshly. If the trees mean you to know something all will become clear in time, if it be the will of the Valar of course," Aragorn chuckled and resumed his comfortable position shoulder to shoulder with his old friend.
"Do I detect elvish wisdom?" Legolas asked incredulously.
"I spent too much time with my elven brothers," Aragorn retorted and smiled fondly.
"I would not use wisdom in the same sentence as Elladan and Elrohir and certainly not in description of them," Legolas laughed softly and gave Aragorn a knowing look.
"They are wise enough, they know to keep close to your sister, and a wise elf would always keep Ellenya as a friend. I know you feel guilty about leaving her Legolas but she will forgive you and come to terms with your decision in time," Aragorn added softly and patted his friend on the shoulder.
"I hope so, I do not want her to grieve for me or lose faith, I want her to be happy" Legolas sighed as his memories recalled Ellenya's tears over his decision to go to Elrond's council.
"Do not fret; I know the twins intended to pay a visit to your home to bring news to your Adar and sister. Elladan will keep her distracted, I am sure he will take her hunting or keep her occupied with some kind of misadventure, they are joined at the hip those two." Aragorn attempted to lighten Legolas mood and lift his unnecessary guilt.
"Yes you are right Estel," Legolas smiled, "That makes me feel better, Elladan is a good friend to her, he will come up with something to occupy her mind."
Aragorn smiled in response and nodded resolutely, before stretching his arms above his head and yawning; "If it's all the same to you I am going to take advantage of the peaceful nights to get some rest, you should do the same we do not have much time left here."
"I know and I will rest soon, but I think I will try and decipher these songs for a time. You go, you are a fragile mortal you need your sleep," Legolas grinned at his friend's annoyed expression and watched him stalk off back to their pavilion.
xXx
Elladan woke face first in a feathered pillow and absently groaned in protest to waking up. A couple of weeks had passed since he and Ellenya had wed and everything since then seemed to be moving at high speed. He had enjoyed only a day of peace with his love but the situations unfolding around them was beyond their control. Mirkwood was constantly under threat and attack, thus everyone was required to pull their weight and make sacrifices. Both he and Elrohir offered their assistance and took as many patrols as they could, Elladan pulling more than he should in his attempt to keep Ellenya safe behind the walls of her home. So the days and nights went in blurs of activity and stolen moments of love with his wife.
The elf rolled onto his back and rubbed his hand along the length of face, trying to scrub away any remains of drowsiness. It was late in the night and Elladan tried to establish why he was in bed when he should be out on another patrol. His last memory was of Ellenya greeting him on his return from the late afternoon patrol. She had not been happy about his insisting on going out again that night, maintaining he needed rest and attempted to pack him off to bed. He had refused and a bargain was struck, if she went to bed with him he would rest. This was quite a satisfying bargain and the events of the early evening left him feeling pleasantly numb.
Though his happy memories were quickly darkened when he could not place Ellenya, she was not with him, why was she not with him? He launched out of bed and hastily dressed, all the while seeking out his new bond with his wife, willing her to be safe. Elladan ripped his sword from its discarded position on the floor and hurried out into the King's Halls. He eventually sighed with relief when he felt a peaceful twinge to Ellenya's spirit, she was resting somewhere and thankfully not out on a patrol.
Elladan was becoming familiar with the great labyrinth of halls that was Thranduil's great carven fortress. So with increasing ease he found shorter ways to navigate his way through them and at last found the great oaken doors that opened into the grand throne room. If anyone knew where Ellenya was it would be her Adar and Thranduil was never too far from his throne these days, with plenty of strategic and political mine fields to manoeuvre.
He plunged through the doors and stopped dead, the throne room was quiet with only a few servant elves busying themselves. Yet that was not what quietened the ellon, it was the absence of the King on his throne and in his place sat Ellenya. Upon her lap were a pile of maps and books and in one of her hands she loosely grasped a wine goblet, her head had rolled back against the the throne and her eyes were glazed. What stunned Elladan was that even though Ellenya had visibly passed out from exhaustion, she looked like she belonged there and again the ellon was rendered awestruck and filled with adoring pride for his wife. Realising that he was gawping and getting more than a few concerned looks, Elladan shook himself and quietly made his way to the foot of the throne.
"Ellenya," he whispered gently, crouching down and running his thumb the length of her cheekbone.
"Hmmm?" Ellenya mumbled and blinked, suddenly straightening herself up, "What time is it? Is Ada back?"
"It is late in the night," Elladan replied his brow furrowing, "Where is the King? Why are you here?"
"Intelligence suggested another breach of the outer perimeters, Ada left with the guard," the princess sighed and rubbed her forehead, "He made me stay behind and promise to look after the people."
"Do you want me to go track him down?" Elladan soothed and gripped Ellenya's hands in his; he knew she worried incessantly about her Adar.
"NO!" Ellenya protested, "I do not want you out there either, he will be due back soon."
"Alright, but will you not come back to bed, you are weary," Elladan coaxed and stood attempting to pull Ellenya with him but she stayed put. He turned back to glance at her with mild annoyance, she was incredibly stubborn when she felt like it.
"I will stay here, I need to be here in case something happens," Ellenya spoke resolutely and yanked her arm back.
Elladan knowing that being forceful with Ellenya was pointless, she would just become more defiant, decided to take a more softer approach and so lent into her so their foreheads touched, "but I miss you and it is too cold to be in that room by myself."
"Then light a fire," Ellenya responded dryly.
"Alright have it your way, but I am staying with you," Elladan grumbled and turned to settle himself cross legged on the ground beside the throne.
"No, Elladan, you overgrown elfling!" Ellenya tutted and half-heartedly shoved her husband, "Go to bed, get some rest please."
"Not unless you come with me, it is a bargain, we shook hands on this," Elladan chuckled and rolled around so he rested his elbows on Ellenya's knee.
Ellenya stared into his wide and pleading grey eyes, feeling her resolve melt, "You are a fine manipulator my love, truly how do you manage to look so convincing?"
Elladan smiled brightly, feeling victorious, "I am just that loveable!"
"You are incorrigible," Ellenya laughed and planted a kiss on his forehead, "Alright just give me a few moments and I will follow you."
Elladan stood and raised an eyebrow, "Do you promise? Or will I have to come retrieve you in several hours again?"
"I promise!" Ellenya defended and crossed her arms tightly across her chest, "with that attitude you could well be spending the next couple of nights on your own!"
"Hold your tongue," Elladan warned but the words were weightless as he bent down and kissed Ellenya on the cheek and whispered, "I will wait up for you."
Ellenya smiled and waved Elladan off, as he strode back out the oaken doors and out of her view. Sighing she leant back on the throne and started to sort through the various reports and maps she had been rummaging through earlier. Out of habit she started casting her eye back over the facts and figures again, until she was completely absorbed in the task. There would be another major strategy meeting tomorrow at midday and the princess wanted to be prepared, it was beginning to get to the point were calling for aid was there only viable option. With this in her mind, Ellenya was making preparations to discuss looking to Lorien for help and she was more than willing to go as an ambassador, only her Adar was still relatively stubborn about calling for any kind of help, especially from Lord Celeborn. Her internal debates waged on in her mind, until once again the time slipped by and weariness got the better of her. So Ellenya forgetting her promise to Elladan curled her feet under her and stole a few more moments of rest.
Meanwhile Elladan had not rested and had taken up residence under a stone archway just outside the royal chambers. Moodily he glared down at the circling stairs and different levels of the King's Halls and reminded himself of all the reasons why Ellenya should never be taken at her word. He was not annoyed in the slightest; he just yearned to be in her presence as much as was possible. The ellon knew time was slowly slipping from them, his instincts warned him that soon he would leave and he was not certain if Ellenya would be with him when he did. Though they had survived long periods of separation before, things were now different. This time when they parted there was no guarantee that either of them would live to be reunited, and that was a terrifying thought. With this playing on his mind Elladan silently prayed that the patrol would return soon, unscathed and with Thranduil in tow; so he could at least have his Ellenya with him for a few more hours.
xXx
Three elven warriors stood with their backs to each other, in a tight triangle formation, hands bound. Five spears loosely pointed at them and their keepers were men, evil men; men under the corruption of Sauron, who had sworn allegiance to him and his minions. A burly, dark haired man with pale, cruel, eyes strode into the small space and sneered at the captives; he would earn a great reward for delivering the Captain of the elven guard to his master. The man observed the titan haired she-elf that had been the bane of his existence thus far, the wench had orchestrated many a cunning trap or raid to push back the forces of Dol Guldor, but it seemed she had finally met her match. With a sadistic grin he turned his attention to the two other elves that they had managed to capture with the Captain.
One was a lithe and sinewy elf, with dark blonde hair and grey eyes that remained downcast and to the man's delight held the right amount of fear in them. The third and tallest was the strangest and the man felt most uneasy in his presence. The only feature visible to the human was a pair of azure eyes that were blank and impassive. The elf was cloaked and hooded with his mouth and nose covered by thin cloth, but that did not disguise the audible sound of his unintelligible, elvish, mutterings which irritated the man, he was growing tired of the fool's incessant rambling, which had not ceased since their capture.
"That miserable creature must have lost his mind, mumbling like a child, you have put the fear of death in him, well done men," gloated the dark haired man and his comrades laughed and jeered in agreement. Though for a second the elf's blank gaze hardened like ice and met the evil man's stare just enough to quiet him, but the look cost the warrior a hard smack across the back of head, so he returned to his quiet murmuring and dropped his gaze.
"You need to teach your dogs to show proper respect elf Captain," The man spat as his gaze left the muttering elf and came to rest on the Woodland's famed warrior, who's stony expression made him chuckle darkly. Tauriel did not waste her breath; instead she stared through the hideous excuse for a man and when she did not respond the human became impatient. With one disgusting finger he ran it along the length her face and neck, Tauriel froze at his touch and eyed him with contempt; "Now I have you attention she elf," he whispered wickedly and pressed his face up close to the side of her ear breathing in deeply; "They never said how pretty you were, maybe my men and I shall have are way with you before our master decides your fate. I wonder do you break as easily as your men, will you turn into a squirming mess like this fellow." The man gestured to the muttering elf that did not seem to acknowledge him this time.
"Those are no senile mutterings those are prayers, you vile, repulsive, uneducated brute!" Tauriel spat and struggled with her bonds trying to put distance between herself and the horrid mortal.
The man glared in anger at the defiant elleth and pulled his arm back about to deliver a sickening blow to her jaw, she would be less trouble if her jaw was broken. Tauriel winced and prepared herself for the blow. His fist launched through the air but was restrained with a crushing force; the man yelped in shock and turned to glare at the strong hand that had blocked him from striking the elleth. To his disbelief and horror the hand belonged to none other but the muttering elf, who had miraculously freed himself from his rope bonds, his blank eyes were now filled with intense fury.
"Raug!"/Demon! The elf hissed, his grip tightening causing the man obvious pain.
"Get off me you fool!" The frenzied human spat and shook his arm trying to loosen the elf's grip, "Or you will die on the spot! Someone restrain him, he has cut his bonds! Check for a knife!"
"Stand down guard!" Tauriel cried in panic shooting the elf a pleading look, "Do not give them the pleasure."
The elf let go of the man without question but continued to stare at him with a warning look, several spears now pointed at his head. He did not struggle when they retied his rope shackles and jostled him looking for a knife;
"There is no knife sir, he must have loosened them," came the reply from one of the captors.
"Then make sure that rope is tied so tight he practically runs the risk of losing his hands!" The man squawked angrily, as the others quickly did as they were bid. He eyed the curious masked elf and then stared back at the captain, a slow, dark look began to roll over the human's features and with a sadistic laugh turned to the she-elf.
"Oh I see this one is precious to you" he began and roughly grabbed the elf by his hood yanking his head back, and held a knife to the small area of skin exposed at his neck, "Well maybe you will be more obliging for me if he goes before my master eh? The nicer you are the more lenient we will be." With sick satisfaction he watched as the pain rolled across the Captain's face as she met her loved one's eyes with a sense of grief, the elf in his grasp simply shook his head. Tauriel dropped her gaze and nodded in defeat.
"There's a good girl," The man teased and shoved the elf hard so he staggered and worked hard to stay upright, "Take him to his lordship and bring these two, I want them to watch!" He sneered and the small band were corralled and led away from their site of capture.
But high in the canopy of the trees numerous pairs of concerned eyes watched the exchanges, the woodland elves remained still and all waited patiently for their orders. On the lowest possible branch perched Arystor, his expression filled with anxiety and his grey eyes hardened.
"My Lord should we not act? Was that not a signal?" Came the stressed voice of Elrohir, who had eased down a few branches to whisper to the King's advisor. Suddenly regretting his decision to fill his brothers place, this was not the jovial night's hunting he had envisioned.
"No, that was not the signal," The advisor muttered quietly, "We follow them and we be ready for that signal when it happens."
"But how will we know?" Elrohir's voice was becoming higher with fear.
"We will know!" Arystor said gruffly, "There will be no doubt; He will mean us to know, now go."
Arystor listened to the gentle rustle of leaves, the only indication the woodland guard moved at all. He watched after the tall figure of the hooded elf that had defended Tauriel and his gut twisted in panic; 'Thranduil you better know what you are doing,' he thought angrily, after all it was the King's idea to do this. To pretend to get caught, to lure the men into thinking they had won, gleam information from them then to launch a surprise attack.
All they were told was to wait on his signal and all he said was that he would reveal himself to the captain of the men, this was the signal. Arystor dearly hoped the guard could react fast enough to spare their King and he had voiced this concern rather loudly, to which Thranduil had haughtily informed him that a verbal statement was not what they were to watch for. So with a frustrated sigh Arystor had regretfully stood back and let his King and friend indulge in this reckless plan, hoping against hope that he would know what the unspoken signal would be. Arystor blew out a breath, in a vain attempt to calm himself and hastily followed after the guard.
The advisor made it just in time to spy the figure of their disguised King be unceremoniously hauled in front of the ugliest man the elf believed he had ever laid eyes on. Dressed in worn armour and gaudy trinkets the man was obviously a chieftain, he had dark hair that had not seen soap or water in at least a decade. He had the same beady pale and cruel eyes of the man that had done the capturing; leading the advisor to believe this was a family resemblance. His skin was red and veiny, the results of a love affair with liquor and he had a scar running the length of his cheekbone. This one knew not the meaning of mercy and compassion, this human was as evil and as treacherous as they came. Arystor settled on the branch beside Elrohir and met the other elf's gaze with the same stressed look, one wrong move and Thranduil was dead.
"He is mad," Elrohir muttered and shook his head.
"No not mad, young lord, eccentric maybe? Even a little wild, but you will find the King is several steps ahead of us all." Arystor replied and gave Elrohir a smile full of faith, whilst internally debating had Thranduil utterly lost his mind! The King never entered into anything so risky, he was truly playing with fire now something he had not done since his princeling days. Arystor sucked in a sharp breath and winced when the hand of the ugly man came across Thranduil's face, an insulting action had the mortal known who he struck.
"Stop your ramblings; you will be silent in my presence! I am Addanc the chieftain and you will show me the proper respect elf." boomed the chieftain in a haughty and overbearing manner, "Remove his hood and scarf, I will not be intimidated by some pretentious wood elf."
Two men quickly and violently ripped back the dark material of the hood and the light scarf that was loosely wrapped over his mouth and nose, Thranduil did not even flinch. The chieftain's dark eyebrows rose up his scarred and mottled face, his little beady eyes widening in shock. The force of his slap should have left bruising on the elf's face, he should have at least been bleeding, but the elven warrior's complexion was unmarred and his features remained revoltingly perfect. Addanc stepped closer to the elf, remaining a good several inches shorter than him, which burned the mortal's ego. The elf, though he bore no significant markings or items that would distinguish him as nobility, certainly held a distinctive aura about him. His hair was so pale it almost glowed silver and his eyes were unfathomable, one glance from the elf sent a thrill of fear through the chieftain though he did not know why, for the most part this elf appeared listless. To Addanc's annoyance the prisoner began to softly murmur unintelligible words again.
"You can pray all you want you stupid creature, that will not save your hide now nor that of yer wench," Addanc continued in the hopes of taunting the elf into action, the man desperately wanted to see if he could mark the warrior's features, a good beating might just make him feel better. However there was no reaction, so the man continued his stirring.
"The jig is up now elf, we are standing in your very realm, your puny King believes he is so hidden and so cloaked in powerful magic that he is beyond reach. HA! Where is he now? I do not see his armies? Do you know what I think?" The chieftain leered and stuck his squat face into the elf's.
"What do you think?" Thranduil asked through gritted teeth, the King was losing patience at a rapid rate. This so called chieftain was a sorry excuse for a leader, his band of common thieves and bandits were haphazard and clumsy. They had lit fires signalling their presence to much of the woodlands inhabitants, some were obviously Neanderthals and they brawled relentlessly with one another. It was laughable to even consider this group of men actually overpowering and capturing the woodland guard, but they were evil and he would not make the mistake of underestimating them.
"Oh so he does understand common tongue!" beamed the chieftain, delighted he had gained a reaction, "I was starting to believe you were backward!"
It took all of Thranduil's self-discipline to not roll his eyes in boredom, he reminded himself repeatedly that he was to maintain a guise and playing the humble solider was his idea. Though the insulting slap had waivered his resolve momentarily. So the evil men believed they had found his realm, which was absurd considering they were not even close to the perimeter. So far Thranduil's theories proved correct, these men were no more than spy's sent out from Dol Guldor to try and gleam as much intelligence as they could. The King had to admit it was a smart move to send men instead of orc, his guard would be following orc tracks and not necessarily men's footprints, there were many good men who still used the paths of Mirkwood.
"I think," Addanc began with gusto, "that your elf King is at his wits end, he has no more power, all his energy and strength spent. So he hides away with his treasures and lets his kingdom rot around him! The evil one knows this, he knows there is no strength left in the Woodland elves, the Great Elven King is long dead what is left is a shell of a Kingdom long bereft of power. So he will strike soon, but it will be no burden to take this realm, I doubt they will even call it a war. You know you are lucky elf, you will be long dead before that happens, you will not have to carry the shame."
"There is no shame in dying for your King and your people," Thranduil answered as calmly and as indifferently as he could manage. Though his temper had long flared and he felt his spirit darken, a terrible thunder rolling over his eyes and veiling his features.
"You are still so loyal even when your King and your people abandon you to death," Addanc sneered, but when he was met by the elf's darkened expression the chieftain rolled back on his heel, the early thrill of fear growing stronger. Determined that the elf would not intimidate him and to remain a fearless leader in his men's eyes he squared himself to warrior and challenged his gaze;
"You will show me respect! KNEEL to me!" The chieftain roared, but Thranduil never moved, he simply dropped his gaze and returned to his murmuring; "You ignorant elf scum, KNEEL BEFORE ME!"
When Thranduil did not respond Addanc was practically spitting venom and angrily grasped a spear from one of his men. Tauriel, who had been brought to witness the whole exchange, gasped and struggled with her captors. She had seen enough, it went against her every instinct and sense of loyalty to allow an enemy to strike her King, she could not watch anymore. The man who had brought them before Chieftain Addanc grinned wickedly at her and she felt his hand clasp the back of her neck, holding her steady forcing her to witness this atrocity. With a sickening crack the shaft of the spear came across Thranduil's side and made him involuntarily fall onto one knee.
"No! DARO!" Tauriel cried out and struggled even more, glancing up to the trees above her, silently pleading the guard to act now before it was too late.
Thranduil clenched his jaw so tight it was almost uncomfortable, the blow to the side was excruciating but he would not give Addanc the pleasure of seeing him in pain. Steadily the King found his footing and raised back to his full height his elvish words becoming clearer and more pointed. This was no prayer, this was elven enchantment! The woods grew darker, and the cold breeze that whistled through their hastily built camp began to build, until the air whipped the dirt and debris from the ground and began to swirl it in deliberate motions that were not naturally dictated. The chieftain eyed the unfolding events with fresh terror; suddenly the presence of the blonde elf was over-powering, the hazy blue eyes that were once so impassive and faraway were suddenly like ice; cold and splintering.
Tauriel and the other elf guard were suddenly silent and both shrunk back from their King's presence. The wind was so strong now it had put out the campfires, the force of it making it hard to see as the debris and dirt flew into eyes and scratched faces. Their captors began to use their hands and arms to shield themselves, temporarily uninterested in their hostages, giving Tauriel all the time she needed. She spied a discarded blade sunk in the ground and quickly used it to cut her bonds, freeing herself and helping her comrade.
Addanc determined this elf would not bully him into submission struck Thranduil again causing the same response. The Elven King this time remained on one knee continuing his powerful words, but the chieftain was determined to end this strange and frightening turn of events and have this elf severely punished and killed for his insolence. Addanc lowered himself to eye level with the elf and punched him hard on the face again;
"You will stop this now or I will have your mate murdered!" Addanc roared.
"I am not his mate!" Tauriel cried over the din and smirked at the chieftain's confused expression as she stood free from her shackles and his men tumbled about from the force of the wind, "I am his Captain!"
Addanc froze and glared at the blonde elf before him, his mouth agape; "Who are you?" he asked with a thrill of fear evident in his voice, as he attempted to sound menacing.
Thranduil met the chieftain's gaze with a look of pure rage and disdain and uttered in the deadliest tone; "E Aran!/The King!"
A rush of wind so strong blew into Addanc's face and stole his breath, disorientating him, but before the man could react Thranduil cracked his forehead against his, sending the man wheeling back at such a force he fell to the ground. Addanc wasted no time staggering to his feet and pulled his sword on Thranduil, but the King blocked the hilt with his forearm and smashed his fist into the chieftain's nose, the crunch of the bone breaking bringing him great satisfaction.
The signal had been alerted and already the woodland guard had descended from the trees, the whirring of arrows and the clash of blades resounding in the King's ears. As his temper evened out so did the enchanted wind, leaving Thranduil's spirit suddenly weary it had been a long time since he had called upon the old magic so directly. It was not that he needed too, but there was a point to be made to the enemy tonight and the Elven King was determined to make it memorable.
Addanc rolled on the ground gripping his nose as the blood poured from it, he frantically tried to find his feet and his sword. Thranduil looked down on the pathetic mortal writhing in the dirt like the vermin he was, this type of human was the reason the King had no time or patience for the race of men, their hearts so easily overcome with cruelty and desire for power. The chieftain spied his sword and stretched out to claim it, but as he did Thranduil callously kicked the blade away from his reach, and in one fluid movement trailed the man off the ground and tossed him against the trunk of the nearest tree.
"Your bonds, how did you get free…I saw them tie…I saw them tie the rope-" the man spluttered and searched the ground for another weapon, but his wandering eyes were not lost on the King. Thranduil with his fury unleashed dug his forearm into the man's chest, causing him extreme difficulty in breathing.
"Do you honestly believe several scraps of twine could restrain me?" Thranduil spat and pushed his weight against Addanc, as he huffed and squirmed for air. "You fool! You think you can walk freely into my realm and make such threats as those without consequence! You are lucky you still draw breath! I know a great many more enchantments that would have left you blind and mute, do not think I have not toyed with the idea of testing them on you!"
"The Elven King, you are him!" The chieftain resolved his eyes widening in terror, he had ignorantly believed the whispers of his master, that the woodland elves were all but defeated. Their ruler was very much alive and his power intact, he peered around the elf King and observed his men were defeated, some had surrendered, others ran into the night, but most were dead. 'Cowards!' thought Addanc, for the chieftain harboured much hatred for anything good and honourable in the world. Thus far the elven King had not killed him, proving to the man that although the elf had great power and many skills; he remained tied by the bonds of honour and fairness, his heart was pure and this was something the evil man intended on exploiting.
"I surrender, I surrender myself to you!" Addanc cried and threw his arms up, "Please your majesty, I was hired to do the bidding of the masters of Dol Guldor! My people are poor, we live off dying land, it was the only way I could secure their protection, do you not understand that?"
Thranduil raised an eyebrow and snorted in disbelief at the audacity of the human, but released him anyway. Addanc slid to the ground in a dramatic show of thankfulness and spewed out high praises to the Elf King.
"Silence vermin! I have lived too long and ruled too long to be fooled by a liar! You have no love in your eyes, your heart is black and your spirit is corrupted. Nevertheless you are of the race of men and I do not relish the death of your kin, even if they are murderous swine. Guards restrain him and what is left of his men, have them detained in my prisons!" Thranduil stared down at the dithering mess and shook his head, before turning to Tauriel; "Send word to the northern rangers, have them come collect these traitors, let them judge their own."
"Thank you my Lord, thank you for your mercy, it will never be forgotten I assure you!" mewed the man, as he was hoisted to his feet.
"Thanks?" Thranduil spun to regard the human with dangerous eyes and slapped him hard across the face, "You do not thank me for this, this is wrong, and these men did not have to die! If they had of been ruled by a better man they could have lived, I suggest you contemplate your actions chieftain with the time I have spared you."
The heated exchange between Addanc and the King was observed by the younger, dark haired man who had first captured the disguised the King. He had surrendered to the guard and now stood burning with intense hatred, they had been tricked. His rage grew and in an moment of unbridled rage when he saw the elf slap his Father, he ripped a sword from one of the elven guards and charged the King.
Thranduil turned to the sound and heard the whir of motion as the guard reacted, but the King was quick and caught the arm of the man, no more than a boy to him. He twisted it back and the human shrieked in pain, falling to his knees and dropping the blade. The young man was suddenly caught in the hypnotic gaze of the elf King and in his ears strange, elvish, words rang. 'The elf is trying to bewitch me,' he thought and violently shook his head in an attempt to ignore the enchantment. In reality Thranduil was attempting to quiet the boy, but the darkness in his soul ran deep and it was hard to reach him.
The diversion was exactly what Addanc had planned, while the guards at his side had rushed to restrain his quick thinking son, it had given the dark chieftain the weapon he needed. Reaching out he clawed the blade from the ground and swung it at the Elven King;
"Sire!" Tauriel screamed and launched at her King, ready to take the fall, but Thranduil released the boy in his grasp and attempted to save the young elleth, it may have been her duty but she was someone's daughter and he had taken an oath to defend the children of his realm long ago.
The whoosh of noise that follows a released arrow resounded in the air, as everything around the elven guard appeared to slow, every movement greatly exaggerated. The resounding thud of it implanting in the chest of its victim, causing a moment of deafening silence. Addanc fell to the ground; sword clattering as death swiftly veiled his features.
"No! Father!" Shrieked the younger man, who rolled to his feet; fury, rage and grief evident in his features. The man eyed the corpse of his Father and quickly looked at the guard who began to move towards him, with one last vengeful look he spun on his heels and took off into the forest. Tauriel tried to move after the traitor but was restrained by Thranduil.
"No child! Let him go, no more blood to be wasted at his expense!" The King warned
"But Sire he will go to the enemy, he has seen too much!" Tauriel pleaded in exasperation and tried to move forward again but was stopped by her King's waited glare.
"Yes that much is true, but let him relay what he has seen to the enemy, if nothing else he can testify that the power of the Woodland Realm is far from spent. Our enemy will maybe reconsider attacking us so soon," Thranduil answered smoothly before striding away from the scene, needing a moment to compose himself.
"Thranduil, you reckless fool! You will cause my death," Lord Arystor growled and strode after the King,
"My thanks Arystor that was a remarkably well timed shot," Thranduil replied without a hint of regret, and smirked when his advisor visibly rattled at the tone.
"With the greatest respect you majesty, how did that little stunt help our plight any?" Arystor continued, evidently still shaken by the events.
"Arystor, I am no fool!" Thranduil stopped dead and spun to face his companion with visible emotion in his expression; "I know what the wider world claims that I am defeated, that there is no power or strength to be found from the Woodland elves. That their King is not interested in the woes of the world that he hides with his treasure, and attempts to wait out the storm!"
"Sire we know that is false, does it matter what others believe? Have we not spent years avoiding such whispers, determined to live apart?" Arystor answered softly, abruptly concerned by the amount of emotion displayed by his usually indifferent monarch.
Thranduil sighed and diverted his gaze from the elf who served him faithfully and without question, his ears training to the sound of the wood. Instead of lulling tones and joyful sounds of life in the trees, there were painful creaks and wails of distress, the enemy had taken much from him and from the wood, but he would play no part of a victim. He was failing as a King and as an elf, this was his home and all that would proceed him when he was gone. Would he leave it so cruelly destroyed and full of sickness or would he fight for it and leave something worthy of remembrance?
"Now the enemy will know I am not afraid, that I do not lack power, nor am I too vain or too ignorant to hide away and believe I am untouchable. Arystor I will burn my Kingdom to the ground before I see it ruined by his hands. So when the forces of Dol Guldor do attack, and they will, maybe I will give them reason to quake at the sound of my horns and the marching of my armies!" Thranduil said no more and a simple nod of understanding was all that passed between him and Arystor.
"Come, you should rest sire, you have not used such magic so openly in a long time. It is nearly dawn, your daughter will be looking for you," Arystor advised and gestured for the King to follow, and was relieved when he did. Thranduil was on tender hooks, a display of power however necessary, would take its toll on him no matter what he thought.
xXx
Thranduil strode into the throne room, unusually disheveled and with a delightful film of grim on his skin. Odd and concerned looks were cast about the hall, as the few servants still working had to stop and double take. Thranduil certainly did not look like himself, in light travelling armour and his hair scraped back from his face sans any form of crown. None in the room old enough to remember him before his days of title and ego, and the thought made him feel quite old indeed. Though Thranduil had to admit he had secretly enjoyed the night's events, it felt good to stretch old muscles and confirmed to him that he certainly was not out of the game just yet.
"Well would you look at you!" came a soft voice, making the King slow his step and turn to face his realm's healer, who had come to check none of the guard were hurt. Torwen smiled and placed her hands on her hips; "Why you look a few millennia younger sire, I almost did not recognise you, there are ellith in the hallway swooning over some mysterious warrior! It is like your youth all over again."
Thranduil laughed softly and shook his head, "Well at least there is one in the room who remembers those days, I feared for a moment I was the oldest creature here."
"You are the oldest creature here! And I remember those days vividly, regrettably your charm has not improved any," Torwen chuckled.
"There are apparently ellith in the hallway that would disagree," Thranduil added sarcastically.
"They were not around the first time," Torwen bantered and watched with delight as Thranduil let out hearty laugh, it was good to see him in good humour. "Thank goodness for Lairiel, she was the only one of us who could suffer you."
The words had escaped Torwen's mouth before she registered the sudden stab of pain in her King's eyes and she tried to take them back. But to her surprise Thranduil grinned through the obvious pain and nodded enthusiastically; "Yes Torwen, I am thankful for Lairiel."
"Legolas?" A drowsy voice mumbled from the vicinity of Thranduil's throne and had his attention immediately. He shook his head and strode toward his daughter, who was curled up there, like she used to as an elfling. Her blurry eyes straining through the dim light, as she rubbed the sleep from them;
"Well that is a compliment if ever I heard one, how old does that crown make me appear Ellenya?" Thranduil chuckled as he knelt down beside his daughter and stroked her cheek.
"Ada?" Ellenya questioned and sat up, "What are you doing dressed like Legolas? What time is it? Look at you, what happened?"
"Nothing worth talking about child, it is near dawn and believe it or not I used to dress like this before you were born," Thranduil continued and pulled his cloak from his shoulders to wrap it around his daughter, "Come on, you and I both are in need of a proper bed."
"Ada you are too old to run around dressed like a guard," Ellenya muttered as she let her Adar pull her to her feet and guide her in what she hoped would be the direction of a soft bed.
"I am not that old," Thranduil answered rather petulantly and rolled his eyes, when Torwen snorted with laughter in the distance, "Torwen is older!" he called and quickly scurried out the door before any inanimate object were freely launched at his head.
"You are in bright spirits?" Ellenya eyed her Adar with suspicion.
"It does an old elf good to have a change of scenery once in a while," Thranduil replied and wrapped his arm around Ellenya allowing her to roll her head against his shoulder. They walked like this until both of them were met by a disgruntled looking Elladan.
"A few minutes Ellenya? That was much longer than a few minutes!" Elladan moaned, "I hope your happy, I spent the rest of night awake and I could have been patro-"
"I missed you too," Ellenya interrupted lazily and traded her place at her Adar's side to snuggle into Elladan's instead. Elladan groaned as all attempts to remain peeved vanished and he happily surrendered to her warm embrace. Though he eyed Thranduil with suspicion the King looked exhausted, so he kissed Ellenya on the forehead and disentangled her from him;
"I have a fire going in our room, and some food on the table, go ahead I will follow you," Elladan encouraged, Ellenya did not argue and he waited until she slipped through the doors of their chambers.
"What happened?" Elladan asked suddenly anxious.
Thranduil waved his arm dismissively, "Nothing worth talking about right this minute, get some rest and I will call the planned meeting later this afternoon, we can discuss things then. Right now I need to bathe and find something more age appropriate to wear!"
xXx
Thranduil felt his legs drag as he pushed into his own bed chamber, once the doors closed heavily behind him he slouched against the wall and rubbed his forehead. A dull throb was beginning in his head, a reminder that using old magic comes at a physical cost, especially when used as a weapon. He did not regret it though; the thrill of power that comes with directing such enchantments gave Thranduil the much needed boost to his wavering confidence. That said the weariness was something he could live without and although a bath was necessary, he just could not motivate himself to go to the hassle.
Instead he peeled off his now filthy tunic and poured cold water in a wash bowl, using a rough cloth he scrubbed as much of the grim as he could off himself and agreed to address his hair at another stage, desirably when his head did not feel as though it was about to roll off his shoulders. As he held the cold cloth to his forehead he spied himself in the large guilt mirror against the wall, and groaned. Throwing the cloth down in a temper, he strode to the mirror and pressed his hand to the large welt marking on his side and hissed when he felt the twinge of pain. Muttering curses under his breath, Thranduil probed his fingers along the mark and noted the bruising just under his ribcage.
Resolving the spear that had collided with his side had either bruised or cracked a rib; the King pulled a blanket over his shoulders and rolled unto his settle. He propped a few cushions behind him and reached for a bottle of wine. Deciding it was his best form of pain relief for the moment; he bit off the cork and drank straight from the bottle. He would go to Torwen later in the day, currently it was tolerable and a few hours' peace was higher up his list of priorities at present.
Time began to blur and Thranduil felt the weightlessness of sleep take him. In the distance he could hear the echo of heavy rain, its relentless thrumming oddly comforting. In this strange gap between waking and dreaming Thranduil felt the comforting touch of another run their hands over his forehead and through his hair. Something incredibly familiar about the sensation stirred old memories and he did not resist the feeling. After awhile the soothing gesture stopped and he let his eyes flutter open searching for the reason for its sudden ending.
Blinking through the dimness Thranduil was abruptly aware he was not alone; though he tried he could not get his eyes to focus. He felt panic grip him, worrying that the injury to his side was slightly worse than he had originally thought and now he had fallen into some kind of fever induced delirium. He attempted to move, but his limbs refused and Thranduil's thoughts automatically went to his children, he had to wake up for them, the anxiety building in his mind.
"Ssshhh, it is alright, you are okay."
The familiar lilted voice divulged in Thranduil a million different memories, emotions and dreams and he automatically quieted under the softness of that voice. He breathed evenly, as an aura of peace surrounded him, the silence almost too much for him to take. Worried it was just a figment of his imagination he let his eyes blink steadily, slowly becoming accustomed to his surroundings. The figure slowly stopped blurring at the edges and the intruder came into a view, with the most unmistakable smile he had ever known;
"Lairiel?"
...well its not really a cliffy...*gulp*
Review, please review if you like, I wanna know if I'm doing okay :)
