Silver Lake
The guards who had brought me to the throne room also picked me up again. Not that I noticed very much of the way back. Thranduil hadn't elaborated on what our - or maybe just my - release would look like, nor when it would take place. Apart from that, I was too busy thinking about his last words. I could understand that he wanted to protect his son. I also suspected that a relationship between a mortal and an elf was not something that was welcomed. That it happened occasionally, I knew. However, I didn't know my way around the larger Tolkien legendarium well enough to say how often. Still, from my perspective, it wasn't even certain that it would happen at all. Yes, we had kissed. Once. When I thought about the rules of my world, it didn't even necessarily result in the possibility of seeing each other again. But I knew, of course, that it was different in Middle Earth. And that not only since Gimli had enlightened me about the elven customs. Still... Legolas had been swinging back and forth between two extremes since the dance in my room. He said one thing and then did another. Something in me still wasn't sure of him and wouldn't be until he said it. That alone was reinforced by the fact that he had revealed my story to his father - something he had promised not to do. Not that I was truly angry with him, and yet...
The guards unlocked the cell door and waited for me to go in. Then they closed it again and disappeared. Gimli had stood up when he heard the footsteps and looked at me, waiting. "Well, lass, what did he want?"
"He..." I interrupted myself, as my thoughts were still buzzing frantically through my head. "He's letting me go."
"It doesn't look like it to me."
"At least that's what he said." I looked at the dwarf. "But he didn't say anything about you."
"Of course not." Gimli ran his hand over his beard and was about to settle down on the stone cot when it burst out of me, "Legolas told him everything, including all about... about the... you know."
The dwarf narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure about that, lass?"
"How else would he have known?"
Gimli snorted, running his hand over his beard again. "I have known Legolas long enough to be sure that he would never break a promise once made. And the Elven King is cunning. He knows how to persuade. Perhaps he got it from the Elves of Lorien."
"But he said…"
Gimli shook his head. "I'll say it again: Legolas would not break a word once given."
I left it like that because I didn't want to doubt Gimli's unshakable faith in his friend. And, because his words had given me food for thought. The delegation from Lothlórien was also very helpful in this regard. Thranduil's words resonated in my mind as if he were whispering them aloud in my ear at this very moment. What if Gimli was right? What if it had really been that - the Elves from Lothlórien knew about the Silmaril. I had told them myself, hoping to find answers. And answers I did find. Not the ones I would have liked, but you can't have everything.
What if Legolas had not revealed anything, which was why his father had depended on the information from Lothlórien? What if Thranduil didn't know the whole truth at all, but only the part we had told Celeborn? That would also explain why Legolas had not visited us once: His father had been irritated about his behavior and had forbidden him to do so. He couldn't have told me that, of course; after all, that would have meant that his son was more loyal to me than to his father and king. I bit my lip. If that was the case, then only one question remained: What had Thranduil told his son?
The hours passed like a sticky glue. So slowly that I began to doubt what Thranduil had promised me. By now it must have been night, or at least evening. Gimli had left his post at the bars of the cell only when, even after hours, nothing had happened. We sat side by side on one of the stone platforms and played rock-paper-scissors, a game I had taught the dwarf to push the oppressive uncertainty aside that was gripping both of us for the last few days. He was amazingly good at anticipating my choices.
As footsteps approached once more, Gimli and I stood up promptly at the same time. Forgotten was our game. Something told me that what happened to us would be decided now. I glanced at the dwarf, but Gimli was so tense that he failed to notice. Understandable. Thranduil hadn't said a word about his fate.
I almost expected to see the same guards again who had brought us our meals and me to Thranduil over the last few days. But this time it was…
"Legolas," Gimli's voice was a mixture of relief and the unspoken question of why he had come to us only now.
"Later," Legolas said, sounding as tense as Gimli appeared to feel. "We must hurry. My father has given us only a very short time frame." So it was true after all. Nevertheless, Gimli asked, "Us?"
"You too," Legolas replied, unlocking the cell door. "Come, quick."
I looked at him, but he avoided my gaze. Yet I had so many questions. But I understood that now was not the time.
After Gimli and I left the cell, Legolas took the lead until we reached the stairway to the cell block. There stood two elves, both wrapped in cloaks that hid their faces. One of them was holding something in his arms.
Legolas stopped. "My father is providing us with two of his trusted men. They will help us and... ensure that we complete the task." Involuntarily, I frowned. Was this his coded way of saying that Thranduil was sending chaperones with us on our way? "Here," Legolas nodded to one of the elves, "throw on these cloaks. They won't protect us from prying eyes for long, but hopefully long enough."
The elf handed them to us. First to Gimli, then to me. As he stood in front of me, I could see the face under the hood: It was Beleg. My eyes must have betrayed my surprise, because he winked at me briefly before stepping back next to the other Elf.
So… After all he was a follower of the king? But then why had he spoken of knowing certain people well enough to understand what was important to them? During our dance, I had interpreted this to indicate that he supported Legolas and had wanted to thwart Thranduil's plan to get me drunk enough to tell him my secrets. Had I been wrong about that?
"Quick," said Legolas again. "We must be gone by the time my father's council with Celeborn is over."
"How are we going to do that?" Gimli asked. "The Woodland Realm is vast."
"And I know a shortcut or two."
"So Thranduil is only concerned with saving face - in case we don't make it?" I asked, hearing myself how sharp I sounded.
At last Legolas looked at me. "He's all about giving us a way to escape."
"Ah." I tried to hold his gaze, but he was already looking away. "Of course."
Something wasn't right here at all, and from the look on Gimli's face I could tell I wasn't the only one who had noticed that. I would need to address this later. But not now.
I hurriedly threw on my cloak and pulled the hood deep into my face. Nobody would be able to distinguish me from the elves, but obviously it was a different with Gimli. Legolas took the lead again and Beleg told me and Gimli to follow him. He and the foreign elf were in the rear.
The tension that lay over the group was almost tangible. Therefore, I remained silent and followed the others with my head down, listening for any sound.
Legolas led us down a corridor that I knew headed to the throne room, but then turned left after what seemed like twenty meters. Then we went down again: Stairway after stairway, we spiraled into the underground of the Woodland Realm - much further underground than even our cell block had been. What was he up to? Would we choose the river as our escape route - like Gimli's father and the other dwarves did in their time? Or was this route too obvious?
Sure enough, after some time I heard the sound of rushing water and it came into view after we turned another corner. The mood felt a little lighter now - apparently we had put the most dangerous part behind us. When Gimli, who was walking behind me, spotted the river, I heard him groan audibly. "Please tell me this will not be our way."
Legolas, who had so far only looked back to make sure we continued to follow him, now stopped. "Certain traditions must be maintained," he said, and I could detect the mischievous gleam in his eyes that I had not seen for so long. Gimli grumbled something unintelligible into his beard.
Beleg and Legolas uncovered a boat just large enough to hold us all, which had been hidden under a tarp until now. Clearly, the woodland elves used the waterway from this location only irregularly. I got into the boat behind Legolas and Gimli, and each of us was given an oar. Then Beleg pushed us off the dock. "Leave the rapids to us," he said, addressing the dwarf and me. "You don't know these waters well enough. Quiet now, they can still hear us."
Relieved, I put the oar down on my legs and watched Legolas maneuver us inch by inch away from shore. Only now did I notice that we were not completely underground: The ceiling, similar to the cells, consisted in places of stone, but also of tree roots, some of which had grown to just above the water and had to be navigated around by us. Through the wood a ray of light fell down on our faces occasionally, which had to come from an above-ground lamp, that stood on one of the many paths. So I did as Beleg had said and kept my mouth shut. That didn't change the fact that a thousand and one question buzzed through my head like pesky bees about to sting.
If Thranduil let us go, why was it a problem that his guards might have heard us? Or had the order only been given in secret and the guards were actually under orders to capture us if they found us? Would the Elven King actually go so far as to imprison his own son just to save face in front of Celeborn? And would that mean that they would come after us as soon as it was officially known we had escaped?
The boat lurched to one side briefly before the elves regained control of it. Still, my hand clung to its edge, seeking support. Damn, so much needed to be cleared up, and I didn't have the faintest clue how much Beleg knew, what Legolas' motives were, and who the quiet, other Elf was. He hadn't bothered to introduce himself - not a good sign.
The rapids Beleg had spoken of caught the boat so unexpectedly that I nearly went overboard had I not already been holding onto the edge. We picked up speed, and in the distance I could see the exit. It would lead us out into the night, making us visible to everyone. I wonder if that was smart.
But Legolas had other plans. Before we could reach the exit, he, Beleg, and the third elf steered hard against the current. The boat tilted dangerously again, but then did what the three told it to do and turned left.
As hard as I tried, I had not seen the turnoff coming. It was darker than the waterway we had come from, and this time led us into a stone tunnel where it was impossible to see the hand in front of my eyes.
The rapids got even wilder and I could feel my palms getting sweaty. One wrong decision and one of us would go overboard. In this absolute darkness, it was almost impossible to find the boat again. Or to avoid drowning.
I had to swallow.
Once again we picked up speed, then the force of the water subsided until the gurgling and splashing had completely stopped. I still couldn't see anything, but it felt as if we were no longer in water. As if we were gliding through air. I didn't dare break the silence around us until the bow of the boat bumped against what sounded like wood. Legolas in the bow and Beleg in the stern lit lanterns, and only now did I realize where we were: We had stopped at a pier that was on the edge of a subterranean lake. Its surface was so smooth that it looked like a mirror. "What is this place?", I asked, unable to suppress the amazement in my voice.
Legolas held out his hand to me. "We are safe. For now. This is the silver lake. It lies on the edge of the Woodland Realm and is rarely visited by my people."
"Because it is underground?"
"No," said Beleg, who had helped Gimli out of the boat, "because it was cursed."
With a raised eyebrow, I looked over at Legolas, but he just shrugged. "Legends say that a dragon was struck down on this spot many thousands of years ago and after him the lake appeared. That's why its surface is said to shimmer like the dragon's armor and bring doom to anyone who dares to drink from it."
"Good thing I'm not thirsty." I eyed the water suspiciously. In Middle Earth, you never knew if a legend didn't contain a grain of truth. "Nevertheless, before we go any further, I would like to know what our plan is. We have made our escape - now what?"
"We go to Esgaroth, as planned from the beginning."
"And there?"
"There we will look for the last source."
