A Forgotten Friendship: A Middle Earth Fan Fiction

Betrayal

"Have a drink, my lord," Ranlin insisted as he entered the hall and stood next to Elrond at the head of the room. As he filled the chalice and handed it to the ruler his mouth was set in a line of amusement and satisfaction. A few minutes later, the large wooden doors opened with a creak, allowing the two guests entrance and then closing with an echoing thud. The following conversation was quite lengthy, involving several arguments and pointless persuasions. All you need to know is this: the conversation did not bide well for Tauriel and Legolas. Elrond had somehow been convinced that they were, indeed, traitors and deserved to be treated as one. So quickly Elrond turned on his friend of many centuries, completely believing the attack on his loyalty. So swiftly he dropped an alliance of ages.

Legolas argued to no avail, "My lord, I beg of you! There must be some mistake. Our loyalty is, of course, first to our king, but do not doubt our honest attempts at comradeship! We wish you know harm, both my companion and I are surely inferior to you in years and in wisdom, but our motives are pure-"

"Silence, I shall hear no more of your petty excuses." Elrond sat slouched slightly in a large chair, his pupils large and his tone of voice lazy. Ranlin shifted slightly and tapped his finger against his leg nonchalantly. "I have a proposition," Elrond exclaimed, suddenly engaged. "If you can bring Thranduil here to me to make amends for his treachery then I shall consider his plea and release you."

"What do you mean, release us? We won't be able to meet your request if we're locked up, your graciousness," Tauriel countered fiercely.

"I shall hold one of you here, of course! I can't have you running off to hide after your plot to rule Rivendell."

"Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? When in the history of Middle Earth have the Elves made war? Not on purpose! We are fighters only by necessity. Do not portray us as a race of war and conquest. You dare to compare us to Men!" Tauriel seethed with rage, incapable of acknowledging the fact that Elrond - the most wise of all Elves - could be so wrong.

"I believe we shall have to keep you here, young warrior," Elrond declared. "Your strong words and spirit could cause the attack to proceed, we could have the legions of Greenwood at our doors! No, you shall be my prisoner, and the son of Thranduil will be gifted with the task of bringing his father to me. Though you believe yourselves strong, you are but a shadow in comparison to my power. So now I give your father the last advice he shall ever receive from me, it is unwise to betray your most powerful friends."

Legolas gripped Tauriel's hand with bone crushing force. "You can't go," he declared in a whisper.

"What choice do we have?" was the bitter reply. "Some sort of sickness plagues his mind, with any luck I'll be out by mid morning. This nonsense has to end somewhere." She kissed his cheek lightly.

"I just found you, there is no way I'm going to let you go," vowed Legolas.

"Ranlin! Take the girl, please," Elrond commanded.

"Your father will never come," Tauriel said quickly, not letting go of his hand.

"I'll figure out something, I swear!" The pair was ripped apart by impossibly strong hands. Tauriel went quietly, sending a deadly glare towards Ranlin with her eyes.

From behind a curtain on the far side of the hall a small gasp escaped from Arwen's lips. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. Her father - he was a monster! On silent feet she rushed back the way she came and made her way to the kitchens, filling a brown satchel with water skins and food.

•••••••••••••••

In a dark room, a figure draped in shadows sat quietly, writing in the pale moonlight. As it penned the words, a black dust blew from the page leaving the parchment supposedly empty.

An alliance between Imladris and Greenwood would be devastating to our cause, an impenetrable roadblock, at least temporarily. Thus, I have set out to undermine this treaty, stopping it in it's tracks. Though Elrond is acclaimed for his wisdom and strength of mind, I had no difficulty in persuading his feeble brain. The death of the two travelers was my ultimate goal, guaranteed to bring war upon the civilizations, but Elrond has fought back, lessening the severity of the consequence. If it weren't for the brilliance of the new endeavor I surely would have insisted on their executions, however, I have come to realize that the woodelves are infatuated with each other. Of course, any way to prolong or intensify suffering is always a bonus. Also, upon another careful analysis of the situation I believe this may be the wisest of courses. Avoiding an inevitable war due to the death of a royal could work in my favor. The casualties would be avoided allowing me to use Elves as stock for my own army, and while a war might leave people tense and ready for action I'll be able to take advantage of the laziness of peace to make my attack. I laugh even now as I think of all the people who believe they are perfectly safe, tucked away from all their troubles. Do they not know that a power oh so much greater than the Sauron of the olden days walks among them? And disguised so easily as a simple ranger! The idiocy of Middle Earth's inhabitants disgusts me. Well no more, a new age shall begin. A new rule shall reign.