"Aeyera, get up."
I opened my eyes to see my brother's frantic face hovering outside my cell, and I looked around, startled. It was dark now. As I shifted, the scabs on my back cracked. New blood stained the bandages, and I whimpered in pain.
"Get up, now," Legolas said urgently, opening the door. He knelt beside me and lifted me up, then pulled me out before shutting the door again. Looking around, I realized that it must be the middle of the night, for each and every dwarf was sleeping fitfully; I could hear Bombur's snores from where I stood.
"What's going on?" I asked, pulling uselessly against his grip.
"The king had asked for you," he replied, trying to pull me forward. His hand was wrapped around the rope still wrapped around my wrists. The blood drained from my face, and I planted my feet, intent on staying exactly where I was.
"And you're taking me to him?" I asked, terror clear in my voice. "You don't know what he's capable of—he'll kill me!"
"Aeyera?" Kili's sleepy voice reached my ears, and I tried to move towards him.
Legolas stopped me, a fiercely protective look in his eyes. "I know what he's capable of," he said, pulling down the collar of his shirt to reveal a bruise the size of my fist.
My mouth opened and closed a few times as I mouthed silently at him, struck dumb by shock. Somehow, however much he tortured me, I never thought he would strike Legolas. "That bastard," I managed, eyes wide. "Why would he hit you?"
"Probably the same reason he struck you," he pointed out. "I stood up to him; told him that he was a coward for attacking you."
"Aeyera?" Kili's voice was alert, alarmed.
"And you're taking me to him," I said, shaking. "Brother—"
"Aeyera!" Kili's voice was panicked, and I turned to look at him.
"I'm here," I said, keeping my eyes on his.
"Are you alright?" he asked, moving closer to the door of the cell. "Where are you going?"
"I-I do not know." I turned to my brother. "Where am I going?"
"With me," he said. "If I do not take you to him, he will… he might—"
"He will kill me," I whispered, feeling the blood drain from my face. I backed away, pulling my arm free. My brother stood helplessly, looking lost. "Legolas, he had taken me and tortured me ever day I have been here." His face drained completely of color; he might have been staring at a ghost. "He had sworn to kill me. Please, let me go." I was crying, pulling against the ropes that restrained me.
"Where is she?" The king's furious voice echoed through the halls.
Without a thought, I pulled away and turned towards the dungeon. I began flying down the stairs, ignoring the pain in my back as blood soaked the bandages there.
My brother did not stop me. Panic overwhelmed my mind, so much so that I forgot the layout of the palace. The next thing I knew, I was in the cellars, the basement of the castle. I reached the center of the room and froze, looking around the room with one door.
"No," I murmured, unfreezing. I began dashing around in a panicked daze. "No, no, no!"
A plethora of empty barrels sat heaped together in the center of the floor, not yet ready to be loaded and sent on to Esgaroth. Esgaroth…
A small lever caught my eye, and I ran over to it, a memory flickering to life in the back of my mind. I recalled my eldest brother, Maladernil, showing me the lever when I was very young. He had left soon after, and Legolas had been named the heir to the throne, although he did not want it: he wanted his brother to rule, if something had ever happened to Thranduil. Maladernil had since taken up residence in Lothlórien, but I knew he would return to take his place as king if needed.
I wrapped my shaking hands around the handle like he had shown me and yanked it backwards. A creak echoed through the room as a thin crack appeared in the floor. The voices of guards grew louder, and I ran forward. My weight made a large door open in the floor, and as it tilted open, the sound of the rushing of the river filled the room.
Without a second thought, I slid down the ramp, landing with a splash in the icy water. The lashes on my back burned, and I gasped at the pain and at the frigidness of the water. I pulled my knees to my chest in an attempt to keep warm. Treading water, I looked up and behind me in time to see the door close again.
The river pulled at my weak figure, sweeping me away from the palace cellars and into the crisp night air beyond. Struggling was useless; the current was too strong, and I too weak. I allowed the river, swollen from melted snow, to carry me on. Every time I would near a rapid, I would curl into a ball and hold my breath; each time I made it to the surface. Somehow, even with my bound hands, I managed to stay above water. When I reached the elven gate, my brother was waiting for me.
The metal gate shut in from of me, and the force of the river slammed me against the bars. I cried out in pain as my back caught the worst of the blow, and I concentrated on my breathing as a wave of nausea swept over me. Gripping the bars tightly with numb hands, I pulled myself up, hoisting my upper body out of the water. I turned my head around as a splash soaked my back. My brother had jumped into the river, a rope tied around his waist. The current carried him over to where I floated, shivering, and he wrapped his arms around my shaking form, pulling me close to his chest.
"Pull us up," he called. The rope began pulling us back out from under the bridge. My eyes drifted shut as I was pulled from the river, and they only opened when another pair of arms gripped my forearms. I opened my eyes to see Tauriel, and I allowed the she-elf to help pull me out of the river. She was careful, avoiding pulling at my wounds.
Once I was on dry ground, I looked around. The other guards at the bridge were some of those I had known before my exile, and they bowed low when I made eye contact with them. One moved and opened the gate blocking the river; it began to flow freely once more. Legolas knelt down beside me and cut the ropes off my wrists, then handed me a knapsack filled with lembas, a water skin, my knives, a fresh tunic, leggings, a cloak, and Athelas. My bow and quiver were strapped to the back of the sack.
"Thank you," I whispered. Legolas nodded, his blue eyes glassy. Tauriel stood and led the others away, giving us privacy.
"Where will you go?" he asked, taking my cold hands in his warm ones. I spread my fingers against his hand, watching how our fingers fit together.
"I do not know," I answered softly, moving my gaze from our hands to his face. He reminded me so much of our mother, and yet he was more like our father than either of us cared to admit. He was not cruel, though. Neither he nor our older brother was cruel. Legolas and I once stood at a crossroads much like this one, and he chose my father over me. Now we stood at a second crossroads, and I knew that he would be faced with a similar decision now. "Legolas, I swore to protect them. I can not abandon them now."
"I can not free them," he warned, understanding whom it was I spoke of. "You know I can't."
"Then will you protect them?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. He had to protect them. If my father got to them first… I couldn't bear to think about what might happen. To Thorin, to Balin, to Kili… My heart ached. We sat still for nearly a minute, neither one speaking. Green eyes stared into blue as I silently begged him to do as I asked. Finally I spoke, my voice shaking. "I'm going to go back if you don't help them."
His eyes widened as though I had just announced that I was about to waltz into Mordor. I suppose I had, in a way; I would be handed a death sentence whether I went to Mordor or the Elvenking's palace. Now that I thought about it, I probably was receiving a death sentence by leading the dwarves to their mountain. I shook my head. 'Don't think like that,' I chided myself, ignoring the feeling of relief I felt when I thought it.
"I will protect them," he said slowly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. He chose me, then. He stood, gently pulling me up with him. "But I can not release them. If they are to escape, they must do it on their own. You must find your own way, as well. Tauriel and I will tell the king that you escaped—how, we do not know—but we can not help you beyond this."
I nodded. "I understand."
Legolas placed his hands on my shoulders, his eyes sparkling sadly in the fading moonlight. I imagined what we might have looked like to one passing by: two timeless figures standing as still as stone in the starlight, a prince and a princess. One light, the other dark. One an heir, the other an exile. One immortal, the other dying.
He bent and hissed my forehead gently, brushing my damp curls away from my face; my braid had come undone in the rapids. "Goodbye, Princess Aeyera."
"I am not a princess," I said softly, looking up at him.
"You will always be a princess, little sister," he smiled at me, then stepped back. Tauriel and the other two guards moved to stand behind him. To my astonishment, my brother knelt, bowing his head. The others followed his example. When they stood, my brother nodded at me one last time. "Goodbye," he said quietly.
"I don't want to say goodbye," I whispered, my throat tight. I was afraid that if I said goodbye, I might never see him again.
"Then say something else," he suggested.
"Something else? Like what?" I asked, staring over the bridge at him. He thought for a moment before a soft smile graced his features once again.
"I will miss you until I see you again, sister," he said.
I repeated the words to myself, allowing a matching smile to touch my lips. "I will miss you until I see you again, brother," I whispered, my eyes following his retreating figure until he disappeared beneath the eaves of the Mirkwood.
I turned towards the woods. At the edge, I turned, and a sudden pain stabbed my temple. I fell to my knees, clutching my forehead, as a short verse echoed in my mind.
"Starlight's daughter leads alone,
Doomed to die for Dwarven throne."
I blinked, and the pain was gone. The sun had just risen over the mountain to the East, painting it in rich golden light. I stood, shaking the stiffness from my limbs. My clothes and hair were dry. I had been gone for several hours, then. The scabs on my back cracked, and I groaned.
A quick glance over to the bridge revealed that new guards had been stationed there but had not seen me. I pulled the remaining braids along with the rest of my hair and tied it back, allowing a few stray pieces to hang about my face. Swinging my pack over my shoulder, I began moving deeper into the woods.
Twenty yards in, the sound of pounding footsteps stopped me, and I leaped to the nearest tree, scrambling up the truck like a squirrel and, whispering, cursing Thranduil with all the breath in my lungs for wounding me so. No sooner was I safely hidden in the boughs than an orc pack appeared below me. I held my breath, fear gripping my heart. I had the horrible feeling that I had just escaped from my father to die at the hands of this filth, and I was reminded of Gandalf. I smiled wryly as I recalled his words after escaping from the goblin tunnels: "Out of the frying pan, and into the fire."
'Seems to be quite a recurring thing for me,' I thought, thinking back to the goblins, spiders, dungeons, and dangers I had faced in the last year. I considered tree jumping away, but I froze as the pack stopped, barely making a sound.
The leader began murmuring to its fellow orc, and I ignored it, having no desire to hear what it had to say.
Seconds later, a new sound reached my ears, bringing with it a new wave of helplessness and horror. An elven horn was blowing, and elves and dwarves were shouting. Ignoring the pack, I began running through the trees, swinging through the canopy until I reached the edge of the forest.
I froze at the bizarre scene before me. The dwarves were each inside a barrel, which were crushed against the gate, trying desperately to escape. Orcs began spilling out of the trees like wasps, firing at anything that moved. I cried out as my kin fell, but I felt my heart leap when Kili's wide brown eyes locked with mine.
An instant later, he had scrambled out of his barrel and onto the bridge, fighting his way to the lever that opened the door. I leaped from the treetop and landed on the bridge, feet from him. "What are you doing?" I yelled, sending a well-aimed arrow into the throat of an orc about to take off an elf's head. I turned to see my brother and Tauriel rush into the clearing, slicing and hacking their way through the crowd.
"We're trapped!" he shot back, blocking a goblin sword that had nearly impaled my midsection. "Get the lever!"
I ducked, traded my bow for my knives, and spun around, slicing through the wrist of a particularly ugly goblin in front of me. "You get it!" I yelled, shoving him out of the way of an axe. "I'll cover you!"
He nodded and began running up the stairs. I followed hot on his heels, slicing through armor and skin and bone like spider webs. Feet from the lever, Kili cried out, and I turned. Bile rose in my throat as Thorin yelled his nephew's name. An arrow stuck out of Kili's leg. He staggered and fell forward onto the lever, trying to pull it down, but slipped off, landing on his back on the stone, face as pale as death.