I leaned against the wall, eyes closed as I waited for my adar to arrive. Many nights had passed since I had walked the halls of my home and now the familiar glow of my adar's study warmed my chilled spirit. Head lolling to the side, I allowed myself to sink to the ground. Light faded to darkness, time lost in a fleeting moment of peace.
Unsure of how long I had been there, I suddenly felt a hand upon my face. Jolting upright, I found myself face to face with my adar. No words passed between us as the moment held. It was an instance such as this that had become all too rare in the crumbling time of peace.
Briefly pressing his lips to my forehead, Thranduil straightened, his hand resting on my shoulder should I need assistance. I managed to stand unaided, shrugging a stoic façade back into place. Thranduil moved behind his desk, and I stood before him. "They tell me you bear grave news."
Pressing my fist to my chest respectfully, I bent at the waist and said, "It is the forest; Dol Guldur's shadow is growing much faster than we had anticipated. I fear we shall be overrun if we do not increase our efforts." I struggled to keep my speech ordered and understandable, but at the end of each word, my thought was lost even as I stumbled after it.
My adar nodded, a distant look overcoming his features. "What did you find?"
Setting my jaw firmly, I considered how to tell him. The trees cast shadows far beyond themselves. They refused to speak to me, as if their voices had been stolen from them. And still, what we found... "The spiders are multiplying. Too quickly. We cannot drive them back without others creeping behind us. We lost none of our warriors, but I cannot say the same will be true in the days to come if we do not push harder."
My father removed his crown, placing it on his desk almost noiselessly. "You wish to do it then?"
In that inquiry the charade of king and captain was abandoned and we were again father and son. That which we had feared had finally come to fruition, and the plans that had been lying dormant--suppressed even--must be uncovered.
"I do." I answered. "They must be driven out. We will lose more warriors by leaving the spiders be than we will if we take the offense against them." We had hoped it wouldn't come to this; hoped that they might move farther from the stronghold. They have only come closer, woven webs far more complex than we had ever expected.
He sighed. "Much pain will come from this, to those far beyond even ourselves, but we cannot pretend that this darkness will not reach us. How soon will your warriors be ready?"
"The moment I tell them. I would think word has already spread of what we found, but for now it is only rumor. My archers need rest, though, and if we wait two days the wounded will be fully healed."
"Only two?"
I smiled. "They are loyal, near to a fault." As I spoke, a nauseating wave rolled through me. Attempting to smother the feeling, I moved slowly, spots dancing at the edges of my vision. I would have fallen to my knees, except for the strong grip upon my arm and the hand placed firmly against my chest. Breathing deeply, I looked up to see my father next to me.
"Not unlike yourself." A smile flitted across his lips. "You will set out three days hence. For the time being, you will rest—no argument, you're not fooling me or yourself—and then it may begin, but it would do no good for you to exhaust yourself beyond what duty demands." A soft, sad undertone hung in the air, a distant reminder of what was to come.
The lives of my people were not risked lightly. Every light the shadow claimed was another smoke drifting into the fog of loss.
My adar helped me to my room—I think. My thoughts were sluggish then, movements even more so. If my legs moved of their own accord, I did not know. All feeling was numbed until the sharp chill of my own room greeted me. Seeping into my tired spirit, the cold wrapped about me, finally broken by the kindling of the hearth, easing me into a blissful unawareness.
When I awoke, I was alone with determination in my spirit. The sun rose filtering under the curtains with a gentle ferocity, mirroring my mindsight. If we were to fight, we would do it with the pride of the warriors of Eryn Lasgalen.
As soon as I could make myself presentable again, I walked the path toward the Halls of Healing. Though injuries were few, I still needed assurance that my warriors would be well. If I recalled correctly, only a novice archer had received a passing blow upon his shoulder and a scout had been caught unawares by a spider. The runner was bruised, perhaps concussed—nothing life threatening—but the apprehensive healers would likely have required at least a night of observation. My thoughts were proven correct when I arrived. The novice, Adamar, was already on the mend, a light bandage to show for his wound, and the scout was presently arguing that he was "well and fine and completely capable of leaving the Halls of Healing."
I laughed, walking over, silently acknowledging the greetings of the healers. "How long have you been at this, Caneir?"
"Far too long..." the healer, Glassade, muttered, collecting her herbs onto a shining tray. "I suppose you might be able to leave"—she held up a fingers to silence Caneir's cry of thanks—"if my prince will give his word that you will not be anywhere near the stronghold's border for a day. At the least." She turned a prying eye on me and I smiled as reassuringly as I could.
"Whatever my lady requires." As I spoke, I bent at the waist, planting a kiss upon her hand.
A blush crept up her neck, tainting her cheeks, as she furiously busied herself with her tray. "I require nothing of my prince, but Valar save me, you both had better stay out of trouble for some time or I may not treat you next you require my aid."
I could not agree to that final term. With the plans to leave so soon...
Caneir nodded, backing out of the room, myself behind him. "Yes, my lady, thank you for your considerate and attentive care, I do not know how I will ever— "
"Oh, shut it, you. I swear, Legolas, your warriors will be the death of me." Glassade waved her hands at us, ushering us out. "Now, I don't expect to see either of you any time soon, and if I do, you can expect a scolding." The door closed with a thud.
Bidding a brief farewell to Caneir, I quickly made my way towards the warrior's quarters. There was still one ellon that I had yet to greet. I had not avoided him--nay, I would be a fool if I had tried--but to greet in the state I had been in upon return would have caused undue upset for us both. Not that it was not a regular occurrence nonetheless.
Quickening my pace, I searched through the winding corridors. I was stopped several times along the way, either by a jovial or inquiring warrior. Finally, I neared where my quarry would likely be.
There was a whisper of air beside my ear, then something cool and sharp against my neck. An arm wrapped about my chest. I froze, gaze darting for further threat. No other elf was in sight. How someone had managed to creep upon me was quite beyond my understanding. Cautiously, I raised my hands in a sign of acquiescence. "Who are you and what do you want?"
A breathy murmur reached my ears. "I don't want anything. Although I should skin your hide for your insolence."
My racing heartbeat slowed. My suspicion had been correct in where my quarry may be found. "Forven, there are times that I wonder how you passed your warrior's trials."
My captor's hold loosened. "But then you remember and question how you accomplished them yourself, each time that I must save your sorry self from a stray orc blade."
I ducked beneath his arms and turned to face him. "I was coming to find you, gwador. Truly, you are a child."
"No more than yourself, elfling. I still might knock you back to the healing ward for your carelessness."
"Ah, and yet Caneir promised Glassade that I wouldn't visit her for quite some time. Disappointing really."
"Truly." Forven held my gaze blankly. The creaking of the wooden walls settling seemed far louder than most often. A battle of wills commenced between us, lasting far too long to be comfortable and just when I was about to give in, my lieutenant did instead. Forven moved forward, arms wrapped about my shoulders and hand cupping the back of my neck. "You scared me, gwador," he said. "Whilst I am stationed at a post other than directly at your right, you see fit to summon the spiders."
Ignoring his later statement, I returned his embrace in an offer of reassurance. "Goheno-nin, t'was not my intention." Forven, as my second, often rode on the same patrols as myself. It was only the injury of another captain that had urged Forven to remain within the stronghold in my absence.
Stepping back, Forven held me at arm's length. "I came to chasten you last night and met your father outside your door. He said that you were weary, had nearly been overrun by the spiders, and had far more to say than a few hushed words could offer." He cocked his head, almost as if he expected an argument. "I believe now would be a good time to discuss it further?"
"Of course, but in my study. Word cannot be spread now."
A short time later, in the solitude of my study, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to be in friendly company again. When I had first donned the mantle of a warrior, Forven and I had found ourselves in this room many a time, deep into the silence of a starry night. Sometimes we would talk; other times, silence conveyed much more than we could. Now though, the words built up inside me, begging to escape like water from a dam. Regrettably, I struggled to find the fortification's weakness. Somehow, though, I didn't have to.
"They're multiplying from the south, are they not?" Forven, with a prompting wave of hand, collapsed into the nearest chair with an undignified thump. I nodded, and my friend continued. "But you lost none?"
"None. But we were far too close." The dam broke. "It was so... sudden. One moment, the trees were quiet, and the next they exploded into a volley of warnings and cries of terror. We hardly had time to assemble ourselves before the spiders were upon us. None were bitten, but a few were scraped, bruised, and far too close to the spider's venom. We held out for as long as we could, but with their numbers... we could not afford to pay victory's price."
Nodding slowly, Forven seemed to ponder my words, before the indication of them was fully realized. He sat straighter, held his jaw firm, and, eyes glinting, met my gaze steadily. "When do we ride?"
"Three days at the most."
"You realize what this will mean? How it will affect the entire stronghold?"
I swallowed the dread building in my throat. "Yes. But we must fight for our freedoms now, lest they be unwittingly taken from us. There is no choice left to make"
Forven continued to nod, but it was no longer out of agreement but contemplation. He stood, sliding one of my maps into the middle of the desk. "I assume you have a wild plan of attack?"
My lips upturned slightly as I got to my feet and began to pace. "Perhaps. But then I may have more than that."
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Breathing heavily, I crouched, swinging one leg toward my opponent's. He jumped, bringing one of his blades down upon mine. Our weapons shocked together, and I pushed back to my feet. He stumbled back and I took the opportunity. I swung twice, once connecting with the other blade, knocking it out of his hand; the next my blade was knocked from my grasp and cold metal was placed upon my chest. "Shall I assume that you cede?"
My laughter lilted upon the ranges. "Do I have a choice?"
"None," Forven answered. "For the second time in fewer than three days. Truly, you're becoming slow."
I shook my head, not deigning the comment with a response. "Well are you satisfied then?"
"Not quite," Forven answered. "We ride to battle on the morrow, and since you returned you have been beyond restless. This is the third time that you have been on the training fields in that time. Don't deny that you're worried."
Shouldering my bow and sheathing my knives, I looked at him pointedly. "Is there reason that I should not be?" Forven's cryptic speech was the very reason my people continued to hold a reputation for such communication. He had a meaning beyond what he would voice.
"Nay, but you're letting it overcome you—and no, I don't mean like that. Though you may be keeping it out of your decisions and thoughts concerning the battle, you worry for our losses. Or what they may be. You cannot hold yourself accountable for every life lost; each warrior will know what he is riding into."
I had no argument. There was no denying the truth, but I still brushed by his comment. "It is you who worry. They are my people and therefore my responsibility. I will take the precautions necessary. Now," I jabbed his side, "shall we head indoors for this rest you so desire?"
"It is only my wish for you, my liege."
A response was about to escape my lips, when a guard—one that I recalled putting on watch—came stumbling out of the forest's edge. His clothes were disheveled, eyes wild. Forven and I hardy exchanged a glance before we were both hurrying towards him. I had hardly reached his side, my friend mere steps behind me, when the guard panted three words in punctuated huffs. "They are coming."
He needn't explain. I knew who 'they' were. It appeared we would be riding a day sooner than anticipated.
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