As usual I'll start with a big thank you to all of you wonderful readers out there.
Special thanks go to bettsam0731 and all of those who have added this story to your favourites. I can't believe how many of you like this!
ILVB - YOU'RE BACK! *Hugs* and with all those lovely reviews! I read the first one and was like YaaaY! my number one reviewer is back then the next day I woke up and checked my emails and couldn't believe it. Another FOUR reviews! Wow! I actually squee'd! Anyway. I'm glad you have managed to catch up and are still enjoying it. Hope you like this one. *Dips strawberry in cream* Nomnomnom. Thanks for the snacks too!"
Right. Lets get on with it shall we. Oh yes, I almost forgot to say. Please let me know what you think. Even if you think its rubbish! (If so let me know how I can improve) ;)
Chapter 52
Estel stands nervously watching the tip of the arrow aimed towards his nose and listens to the discussion ahead of him. It has been an unusually uneventful journey in which the small company has wended its way from the outpost to the ornately carved outer gates of the Kings halls with the twins complaining loudly all the way. Estel chuckles to himself as he looks over his shoulder and sees the dark glower Elrohir is projecting towards the two elves, deep in conversation in front of them.
They had all agreed that Thranduil should be informed of the thwarted plot as soon as possible but the twins had not been happy at all with Doronors initial suggestion. After some rather excitable discussion however it had been agreed that it was the best option open to them in order to prevent further enraging the King and therefore running the risk of him being unwilling to accept the reality of the threat.
So it was that the dawn had seen a company of woodland warriors escorting three prisoners through the forest towards the heart of the realm. A freshly bathed and clothed human and two peredhril, their hands bound and linked together were efficiently surrounded by a dozen of Doronors finely tuned warriors whilst the Lieutenant and Estel led the way along the elven path. At the rear a slender elf, the hood of his cape pulled forward over his head, masking his features in darkness, walked, bow in hand, scanning the surroundings with an almost feral intensity. Aware of dire consequences should he be discovered, yet determined to ensure his father was unharmed, Legolas was going home.
The elves ahead conclude their discussion and, formalities complete, Doronor returns to Estels side just as the arrow disappears from in front of his eyes, along with the elf who had been at its other end.
"Come, the King will be informed of our presence," the lieutenants voice is clipped and curt as he gives the order to move on. "The sooner we deliver these troublemakers the faster we will be able to get back to the rest of our patrol." He winks at Estel and turns to lead the way through the massive gates as they silently open before them, raising a hand in farewell to the guards now returning to the cover of the trees.
Estel grins as he snatches a quick glance of his brothers icy features before following the wood elf. The pair had been most vociferous in their arguments but in the end logic had won out and they had agreed, albeit ungraciously, that the lieutenants plan was the most likely to succeed and had capitulated to being led through the forest in the vein of prisoners having been captured by Doronors company following their escape from the dungeons. Elladan had argued that Estel should also be bound but he had retorted that seeing as he was not with them at the time they were foolish enough to get themselves imprisoned, nor was he known to have been in their vicinity when they gained their freedom, there was no necessity for him to be treated as such and in the end he had won out and could not help the smirk that kept tugging at the corners of his mouth.
As the company walk along the wide path to the inner gateway the twins become unusually silent, fully aware that although they can see no sign of their woodland kin they are undoubtedly being watched very carefully all the way. They share a glance that speaks volumes but keep moving, feigning a nonchalant air yet mindful of the fact that Thranduil may have already issued an order for them to be returned to the dark dungeon upon their arrival, without granting them the opportunity to be heard. Both fervently hope this will not be the case, Elrohir for fear of his own sanity, Elladan concerned for his brothers life.
The elegant, inner doors soon appear before them, two lines of warriors flanking either side of the entrance. As Doronor approaches the elves snap to attention then fall in alongside the company as they pass through and enter the Halls of the Elvenking, the last major fortress against the evil spreading through what was once Greenwood the Great that most now called Mirkwood.
At the last moment Legolas falters, it is not fear of death that holds him back, he knows his life will be forfeit if he is discovered and is fully prepared to take the risk. No. It is fear of seeing the pain and disappointment he is certain will be etched into his fathers eyes. Death would be far easier to face than that. Drawing in a deep breath he wills himself forward. He will bear whatever his father feels for him as long as he knows the king is safe. With this thought clutched in his turbulent mind he follows the rest of the group down the corridors, drawing deeper and deeper into the palace, towards the throne room where his fate awaits.
Estel finds his gaze keeps wandering to the other human in their midst and can not help but feel some pity stirring within his heart at the thought of what is to come. Flinns eyes are as huge as plates as they flit nervously around their surroundings attempting to take it all in. The grandiosity of the palace along with the tales he has been told of the magic of the elves are fanning the flames of his fear and he exudes terror now with every step.
They stop once more and the young man realises that they have arrived at the entrance to the reception room. Up ahead he can see the great carved throne and the tall figure reclining within its embrace. His heart begins to race. He has always felt slightly intimidated by his friends father, as if he was accepted only under sufferance of his friendship with the prince and wonders how he will be received in the light of recent events. The guards escort them in and Estel finds himself wishing, not for the first time, for Legolas' comforting presence at his side.
With each onward step the young elf on Estels mind finds his own heartbeat gathering pace. Past the point of no return he knows he must now see this through to the end. Keeping his head down his eyes repeatedly stray upwards to the imposing figure of his father looming larger and larger the nearer they get. until, at last they reach the enlarged platform half a dozen steps away from the throne itself.
"What have we here?" The deep, melodic tones wash over the group effectively halting them where they stand and a tall, slender figure, robed in deepest midnight blue unfolds himself elegantly from his seat to stand regally above them. Thranduils eyes are indigo pools, his face a cold mask as he rakes each of them with a haughty look. Legolas feels relief as his fathers eyes quickly scan him but do not linger and he breaths out a gentle sigh.
"Prisoners, Hir Nin, My King," Doronor steps forward and bows deeply. "I bring prisoners and important news of a plot against your life."
Thranduils eyebrows raise at this information, the only visible sign that he has heard the lieutenants words and he moves slowly down the steps of the dais until he is on a level with the group, motioning to the small group of advisors arrayed beside the throne to remain in place.
"To what depths have you fallen this time?" Icy cold words shoot out like daggers as the king thrusts his face forwards into Elladans and the younger elf feels the spray of spittle upon his cheeks. "Peredhil!"
"Nay, Hir nin." Doronor interjects before the twin has chance to reply, "'Twas with the brothers help this plot was brought to light." He holds his ground as the king turns his piercing eyes to capture his own.
"Well, well." Thranduil begins to circle the company like a panther stalking around its prey, "Elronds offspring coming to my aid." He pauses in his pacing and suddenly Flinn finds himself under scrutiny. "And this adan." The king looks back to Doronor, contempt imbued deeply within that last word. "He is involved also?"
"Yes sire." The Lieutenant nods, "He was actually a part of it."
Flinns legs turn to jelly and for a moment he thinks he is going to disgrace himself once more as the imposing figure steps towards him but as icy indigo eyes bore into him he looses all coherent thought. Collapsing onto his knees the brigand feels the full force of the royal mind brought to bear upon him, stripping him to the core and revealing his every thought and deed. He wants to cry out against the invasion but can neither move nor speak. Realising at last that he has no defence he surrenders himself completely to the kings overwhelming will and allows his very soul to be laid bare under his scrutiny.
With a snarl of distaste Thranduil eventually turns away from the brigand and turns his gaze once more upon the twins.
"I will not enquire as to how you managed to free yourselves from my, hospitality, at present," he pauses, the look in his eyes containing a hidden warning, before he continues, "we shall leave that interesting conversation for later." He resumes his circular motion once more, pacing around the group before coming to a halt in front of Estel.
"And you?" his eyes travel down the length of the young mans body before returning to settle upon his face with an expression of loathing. "I presume you are also involved in some way in all of this, as you ever seem to have a hand in affairs affecting my, realm." His eyebrows shoot upwards again as he holds up a hand for silence when Estel opens his mouth to reply, then calmly turns his back once more, effectively snubbing the young man who stands and seethes at this treatment.
"A plot against my life you say." Thranduil muses then turns his gaze once more upon Flinn. "And how did an adan think he would be able to get close enough to carry out this deed?" He oozes arrogance as the man cringes beneath the icy gaze. "Or did he have inside information?"
Once more the indigo eyes turn to Estel and the anger he sees deep within them sends a frosty march of fingers down the young mans back.
"I think maybe we should discuss this in private Hir nin, my king." Doronor glances from the king to the group gathered around the throne watching the proceedings in rapt attention.
"I will decide if that is necessary!" The shout echoes around the room.
"Forgive me Hir nin I just,"
"Silence!" Thranduil breaks in and the lieutenant quiets, lowering his head in deference.
Once more the king begins to circle the group, this time fixing each of them in place with his implacable stare, boring into them as if daring them to move, anger radiating from his very being until he suddenly halts his face twisted in rage a roar issuing from his mouth.
"How dare you be so disrespectful as to enter my presence so covered!"
Legolas feels his heart stop at his fathers shout.
"Lower your hood.! Now!"
"Hir Nin!"
"Nay, My lord!"
Doronor and Estel shout together in a desperate effort to prevent the inevitable as the king reaches out to roughly grab the hood covering the elf before him then sharply pulls it back exposing the golden hair and rigid features beneath.
An eternity passes during which there is neither movement nor sound within the room. Then time rushes back bringing a hubbub of shouts and running footsteps from armed guards as the young archer revealed is grabbed, unarmed and forced to his knees by ungentle hands, a knife held across his pale throat.
"Nay!" A whispered sigh of anguish leaves Thranduils lips as he stares down in disbelief at the well known features thus exposed, unable to believe his eyes. "Nay!" The cry this time torn from his throat as the full impact of his actions begin to sink in and he realises with horror that he has just condemned his only son to death.