As Narunir is eager to return to his duties, my father takes his place in the bedside vigil. He speaks little, his concern for his friend evident in the hard line of his mouth and clenched jaw. If Thranduil does not endure the night, I will not be the only one to suffer his passing.
He has been friends with Thranduil since the Last Alliance, saving the then-prince from an Easterling's fatal spear blow. After Oropher's death in battle and during Thranduil's ascension to the Greenwood throne, Ada provided his support and counsel, inspiring the new King to give him the title of advisor.
So close was their friendship, Thranduil requested he speak the customary blessing on his wedding day. The bridegroom's father traditionally held the honor, but as Oropher's spirit had passed on, Ada was chosen in his stead.
"Did you know the Queen well?"
He looks at me, his half-shadowed face revealing no surprise. The solemn fire's crackle is the room's only sound as he gathers his thoughts. He moves his gaze to the hearth on the opposite wall, the square line of his jaw hardened. I wonder if he had decided not to answer.
"I knew her, though not like Thranduil. She came from the lands of Lindon, and was fairer than the brightest star. But she did not shine as one. She was diminished in countenance, sparing a smile only for a close friend or her child."
"I hardly remember her."
"Even so, you saw Itaril in her happiest days here. She carried more joy in being a mother to Legolas than in being a queen. She gave her life for it, in the end."
I lean forward. "How did it happen? I have never heard the story fully."
"Perhaps after you do, you will wish you remained ignorant."
"I...must know, Ada."
"Very well." He takes a seat at the end of Thranduil's bed, and steeples his hands under his chin. "It was a humid summer day, Thranduil's Aur en-Onnad a few days hence. The Queen was very protective of Legolas, but after his pleading she allowed him to accompany Lord Elros' father to watch him hunt. The forest was not as festered with evil then; orcs and other creatures did not appear within the borders. The Queen had no reason for concern.
Thranduil was away on a trip to Lórien and was due back in time for Mereth Nuin Giliath. If he had been home, things would have ended differently."
"What happened?" I whisper.
"They were attacked by a band of Gundabad orcs. Elros' father was struck by arrows to both limbs, and was unable to save Legolas from being taken captive. It was late evening ere the barely-conscious hunter managed to reach the road and recall the events to a guard. When the Queen heard the news, she was so overwrought she did not delay.
Despite my advice to wait for the King, she gathered her four best soldiers to accompany her north to Mount Gundabad. They stopped neither to eat or rest. The soldiers pled for her to wait, promising her they would be vastly outnumbered at the orc hold and would surely die. But it was not her plan to fight, rather make a bargain. She knew there was a reason the orcs had taken Legolas captive instead of killing him.
When they arrived, the Queen offered herself in Legolas' stead to the orc chieftain. She promised when Thranduil came to retrieve her, he would give them whatever they desired for her safe return, whether it be gold, jewels or land. What was more, she promised if he did not honor the agreement, they could kill her.
The Gundabad orcs were ignorant and greedy, and accepted her offer. They saw an opportunity to claim the Greenwood for their own."
I shake my head. "Surely she knew this plan would never work?"
"She did," he says grimly. "They returned Legolas, and she made certain he was unharmed. Then she handed him to her best soldier, Lord Amdiron, and instructed him to repeat to Thranduil the exact words she had spoken to the chieftain. He pled for her to reconsider, but it was too late. The agreement was final.
The Queen knew the orcs desired to join forces with Dol Guldur and destroy the Woodland Elves, and she knew it could never happen. Not wishing Thranduil to be faced with the decision, and believing she would not escape the hold alive regardless, she confessed her lie to the orc chieftain.
They murdered her brutally, in a manner I shall not utter. There was nothing left for a burial."
Tears spring to my eyes as I remember Thranduil's graphic description.
"An orc messenger once took pleasure in describing how they destroyed my wife's body, how they tore her to a thousand pieces before casting her into the fire..."
"The King arrived two days later with a large army on horseback," Ada continues. "A messenger was waiting to give him the news of the Queen's death. The orc handed him her favorite necklace as proof, broken and missing its jewels. As Thranduil could only think and breathe revenge, he struck down the messenger and ordered his army to attack the stronghold.
Having foreseen this, the orcs let loose a mighty fire-drake. I should not have to tell you our friend did not escape unscathed."
"His burn..." I turn to look again at Thranduil's gruesome scar. Until now I have never known when he acquired it.
"Though the Greenwood army was larger and stronger than the orcs', Thranduil had not predicted a dragon, nor did he have the means to take it down. After he fell from his grave injury, the army began to retreat. The dragon followed them for a time – many did not survive its fire."
"No wonder he does not speak of it."
"Not many do. Who wishes to remember the great Greenwood army fleeing from battle? But against a fire-drake, there would have been no victory. Only certain death for all."
I look at my lap, and notice my blue velvet gown is strained with Thranduil's blood. "It was the orcs' plan from the moment they took Legolas. It was a trap."
"They anticipated the King and his army to arrive to retrieve his son. They had not anticipated the Queen and her bargain."
"Did they truly believe Thranduil would hand over his entire kingdom for the return of his wife?"
"Enough to see what would unfold. Orcs are far from intelligent creatures. But it would have ended the same. He would not have given up his father's kingdom to the enemy of the Eldar, though he would have tried everything he could to save his wife, of that I am without doubt."
"She was very brave..."
If not for the Queen's actions, I doubt Legolas would be have survived. She sacrificed her own life to save her son's. Was there any greater love?
I glance at Thranduil, and reach out my hand to touch his forehead. A bloom of fear forms in my stomach.
"I believe he has a fever..."
Ada stands. "It is time for more Athelas. I shall fetch the water. It will only be a short while now, iell nín."
"For what?"
"To know if he lives or dies. And to know if the battle has been lost or won."
-----
This time it is my father who speaks the prayer to the Valar. As much as I wish otherwise, I have no strength remaining to utter it again. But I refuse to sit by and only watch, and take another Athelas-soaked cloth and touch it to his chest and arms. His fever abates, but he still appears to be fighting a great battle within. I hope beyond reason his usual stubbornness and determination prevail. Ada ties a linen cloth around the chest and wound, creating a makeshift bandage.
"Do you believe he will die?"
His distressed countenance gives me no comfort, nor does his sudden pacing in front of the bed. His usual disposition has been my greatest source of peace and reassurance since childhood. Now he appears to be as out of sorts as I am.
"I cannot say. But we have done all we can."
I rise from my chair. "Come and sit. You are exhausted from the prayer..."
"You expended far more energy than I, Rîneth."
I cannot deny my legs are fatigued and shaky, and the desire to return to the chair is hard to resist. But I sit down at the end of the bed instead, where it is easier to look over Thranduil.
Ada finally takes a seat and the chamber grows silent, both of us lost in a deep ocean of troubled thoughts. A soft tap on the door brings us back to shore. Narunir strides in, his youthful face and armor splattered with black orc blood, proof he has been involved in the battle. There is a spring in his step I did not notice last I saw him.
"Do you have news?"
"I do, my lady." His mouth curves upwards. "We have been victorious. The remaining orcs retreated into the forest, back to their hold. We succeeded in bringing down their cave trolls and killing their wargs and other foul beasts."
My heart makes a small leap of joy, then plummets at the dark shadow which falls over Narunir's countenance.
"It was a tremendous effort from our army, and the villagers as well, but the victory did not come easily, or without sacrifice..."
Ada leans forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped as though bracing himself. "Go on."
"The fires were all-consuming." Narunir looks at the floor. "Many inside their homes did not leave in time. Others climbed the rocks and escaped into the northern forest. It is uncertain if they found safety. There was a witness who saw several orcs fast on their heels..."
I grip the bed post so tightly my hand hurts.
"Lord Elros gave a valiant effort in helping to defend the keep entrance, but was eventually outnumbered. He slaughtered perhaps a dozen orcs even after the arrows struck his chest..." His voice fades.
My throat feels like a desert. If not for Elros, I would not be alive. If not for Elros, I could not have seen to Thranduil after his injury. He had saved more than one life. If only someone could have saved his...
"What of Tauriel?"
"Very much alive, my lady. After the King fell, it was Tauriel who led the charge and brought us to an eventual victory. If not for her leadership and skill, the battle might have gone differently."
I feel relief for my friend. It is a small patch of sun in a darkened world. But there is still so much uncertainty.
"And the injured?" my father asks.
"They are carrying them to the halls now. There are a great number, my lord. It is the other reason I came to see you." He hesitates, his gaze landing on Thranduil. "The people need guidance. They are without a leader."
"I shall come."
Narunir thanks him and departs, stating he needs to help carry in the remaining injured. For several long moments my father and I say nothing, both of us lost in our thoughts again. Then he places his hand on my shoulder.
I dare not admit my selfishness. I do not wish him to leave.
"I should not have to tell you," he starts, "that your place is here, with Thranduil. If...if anything changes, come and find me. When you are able."
I understand his meaning. But even more, I understand my father does not believe our friend will survive. His loss of hope is evident in the long look he gives Thranduil before leaving, and the hint of mist in his gray eyes. I have not seen him give such a look since my mother's departure to Valinor.
I know he is saying goodbye.
I bite my lip painfully and look away.
"There is still hope for our people, iell nín," he says, his voice thick. "We have suffered a great loss, but we will endure."
Thranduil uttered those same words many times throughout his reign. I know my father uses them now to give me what little comfort he can. But they only serve to remind me Thranduil does not need to be alive for the realm to endure. Legolas will not abandon his father's people. If we survive the War of the Ring, he will wear the crown.
"Speak to him, Rîneth. Speak to him as you always have. Speak to him as you would if you knew things could be different. Do not hold back. Perhaps he will hear you."
A/N: I hope you enjoy the double update! And I'm sorry for leaving you on a terrible cliffhanger, but...I will be updating soon. Maybe even before Wednesday. Love you guys!