Cognizance was slow in coming.
My eyes snapped open, and lights danced across my vison. I shifted, eyes closing as I brought one arm to cover my face. An indeterminable amount of time passed before I willed myself to try again, and this attempt proved more successful. The room was not nearly so bright as I had originally percieved, and I gradually became aware of muffled voices.
A series of instances flashed through my mind. Council, battling, failing, my adar, assassin--I flinched, shooting upward. With movement far too uncoordinated to be of drowsiness, I worked to stand. Instantly, the world blurred, spinning around me. Stumbling forward, I gasped softly. My legs would undoubtedly have left me as a crumpled heap on the floor, if not for the wall that my shoulder came into contact with. The jarring impact elicited a grunt from my throat, but I used the structure as support.
AsI struggled to regain a sure stance, a hand brushed my arm before gripping it with gentle force. "Sîdh, Legolas. Not so quickly. You are in the healing ward. Everyone is safe. You hit your head and have a small cut." The speaker paused, pressing a hand to my chest. "Valar, why must you choose the moment I turn my back to awaken?"
A peace flooded me at the words. In the healing ward? Strange but not entirely unexpected. That voice--I knew it. "Forven?" I turned my head but could only catch sight of an arm. What was on the arm, however, stirred an ember of remembrance inside me. A vambrace, marked with the pattern of a warrior of my patrol, bore severl scuffs over its fading leather.
"Aye," he answered. "Can you stand on your own?"
Slowly, I nodded, feeling balance return. I shrugged off his hold, but he kept a hand outstretched--precaution he would call it, while I saw it as paranoia.
I might have apologized for my confusion if not for the countless times he and I had been in this situation. A careless mistake with indeterminable consequences--a time in the healing ward--worry for one--temporary oblivion for the other. "What's happened?" I said. While the events of the last days were slowly returning to remembrance, how one instant flowed to the next was lost to the distant depths of memory, blurred and faded.
"We were in council, baiting the assassin. He came and you were hurt in his escape." Bitter guilt tainted his words and I sighed. Even should he swear he did not harbor a feeling of blame, I knew he nevertheless would. I could not argue with him. His heart had determined his mind.
"A bump to the head can hardly be considered a hurt, Forven. It was a mistake on my part, and one I will not repeat. How far did you track the assassin?"
Over the next moments, all the events that had taken place in the last hours were repeated. As Forven spoke, I took the warrior tunic he offered and accepted his help with strapping my quiver on my back. Soon after, we left the healing ward--not without some arguement with the healers. There were times I wondered if we were more their captives than anything else, but the thought was quickly displaced by the many times their care had proved invaluable.
My adar was in late council, not to be disturbed, and soForven and I quickly made our way to the warrior's halls. Thrumming in the air was a sense of unease, only heightened by my appearance. The warrior's stances all shifted at my entrance, and something felt amiss. Anger burned through the chilled air, but my attention was drawn away from it by an elleth in the common room. She would not have been noteworthy if not for the distinct coloring of her attire--the coloring of Imladris.
Iaewneth. Her dark hair hung freely around her face, curling just under her chin before continuing its flow down her back. A few warriors, many of them new to the ranks, stood around her, slight smiles on their face despite the atmosphere. Iaewneth was speaking quickly, seemingly engaged in some retelling--when her gaze flicked away and caught on me. Our eyes met and I did not break the connection, watching a moment of inattention flash across her face. For a moment, her speech faltered, but the slip was brief and she near immediately continued speaking with the warriors.
I tugged on Forven's sleeve, a subtle movement but enough to gain his notice. "Why has she yet to return to Imladris?" I had almost--only almost--forgotten her
A soft smile slipped over Forven's features. "She requested to stay for a few days, saying that the forest felt dark to her, as it does to us all. Besides, many of the warriors find her presence to have a certain... charm to it."
"Charm?"
Apparently, I did not keep skepticism entirely from my voice and Forven chuckled. "Oh, let them have her company. She'll be gone soon enough."
I did not answer, watching her speak. Her actions seemed so sincere, her eyes alighted with passion as a fountain of words spouted from her lips. I could not help but allow a smile to flit onto my lips. If she brought a light to this dark time, who would I be to diminish it?
My attention was drawn by the approach of Caneir.The ellon glanced around, fingers fidgeting with his belt. "Captain; lieutenant," he said, nodding to both Forven and I. Something lurked in his voice, but remained unspoken. His gaze shifted over the room, much as mine had moments before, but he seemed to perceive more than what the physical world displayed. It was almost as if he saw the intertwining webs of emotion. As young as he seemed at times, Caneir had a sharp mind and even sharper perception of the world.
"Caneir," I acknowledged. "I have yet to look at the report of the most recently returned patrol. Was there anything of note?"
"No," Caneir said. "They have spoken some, but few patrols have much to say of late." He paused, lowering his head before continuing. "The rising threat has them dissettled, and the rumors are growing." He gave bare details, only a rough structuring of what conversation had truly been weaving in the warrior's halls. From his quick words, however, I could infer the true mullings of the warrior's halls.
Shadows could not be left entirely in the forest. They could not be disccarded as cloak could, nor could they be forgotten like a passing instance. Shadows held, and shadows grew. It was time that they be lightened.
I took a step from Forven and Caneir, moving to a side wall. Knives hung in rows, having once been used as decoration, but over recent years having become something quite diffferent. "Anyone want to play?" I called over the expanse. I flipped the knife between my finger tips, watching my warrior's heads snap my way. A cunning glint flashed through several of their eyes, an instant excitement entering the room. Murmurs of anticipation slipped into the stillness. I smiled. "Then let us begin."
The game was simple, almost too simple to truly be considered a challenge for my warriors. But complexity was not the judge of all things, and so I would let them play.
Across the room from where I stood, roughly twenty paces away, a target hung on the wall. Each time we played the game, the target became more and more damaged. Made of cloth, the edges were frayed, center almost entirely torn apart, yet, somehow, no one could bear to replace it. Someone had crudely constructed it at game''s beginning, at least a decade ago, and now it held sentimental value. Too often had we turned to the game as a distraction from the much more pressing weight of battle.
The first time my adar walked in upon our sport, he had been shocked, taking in the obvious missed throws that had thence notched dents in the wall. But he had quickly come to accept it, even making his own bet on who the winner would be.
I passed the knife to the first warrior to make it to my side. He grinned, fingering the knife's hilt before stepping to his mark. Before making his throw, he looked to me for my predictable beginning to the game.
"Alright, everyone, you all should know the rules at this point. As long as you display a more skilled shot than the competitor before you, you are in the lead. Should you miss your shot, you lose. Simple as that." I turned a warning eye on all my warriors. "And should anyone be so dim-witted as to cheat this time, I will personally dispel you from competing for the next century--and yes I am speaking to you, Caneir."
A collective laugh rose through the room, warming the air, and the game began.
I moved back, content. The warriors were nearly all engaged in some way, either watching, betting, or competing. Their betting was friendly, exchanging daggers and jewels. Wine was out of the question. As long as a warrior was in my service, he would touch wine only when outside these halls.
No one had fed the fire, but elation was kindling enough. Forven left my side briefly to take his own shot at the target, succeeding intitially, but after several rounds he was ejected from the competition. He had been challenged to make his knife spin only twice before hitting the target. Needless to say, he fell three paces short of even reaching the wall. I doubted he would hear the end of it for days.
Abruptly, my name filtered into conversation. "Legolas, will you not throw tonight?"
I shook my head with a chuckle. "Not this night. I fear my aim is not enitrely steady."
Several friendly jeers were sent my way, one rising above the others. "Your aim is not the only thing unsteady--it would be almost an equal challenge for you to walk in a straight line."
Initially the warriors, agreed, myself with them, but the mood slipped slightly. Under normal circumstances, the jest would have fallen into place seamlessly, a single moment among a thousand. For this moment though, it faltered. I took action, standing from where I leant against the wall. "Challenges are not all meant to be easy and some you cannot complete on your own. That is why we have each other, to be guides to each other's darkness." I paused. They all knew that I spoke doubly, both of knife throwing and our battle. They relaxed and I smirked. "Unfortunately, help cannot be given to an elf incapable of throwing a knife."
"Especially an elf like Forven," one elleth teased, knees drawn to her chest.
And with that, the game continued.
Night had deepened considerably by the time our sport was brought to an end. No clear winner arose, the remaining warriors more concerned with how difficult they could make a shot than how often they could hit the target. As the game wore on, I could feel my head clear, and soon enough the common room emptied, warriors remembering some task they had to see to. Warriors still remained, but the room was quiet--peaceful. An undertone of conversation returned just as I slipped out the door.
Forven followed as I walked across the training grounds. "It was good of you to start the game," he said.
"I do have some good thoughts at times," I answered, trudging through the tall grass.
"Occasionally, I suppose. You have plenty of the bad kind though, one such being your tendency to get hit over the head. Speaking of, how well do you think you can shoot your bow? I've heard Arthion is mostly recovered from his poisoning. I'm sure he would be overjoyed to test your skill."
"I almost entirely fine at this point, It was a glancing blow." I shot a glare at Forven, shoving him as he reached behind me. He stumbled to the side as I caught sight of what his hand now held--an arrow. "Is there any particular reason you need an arrow from my quiver?"
"None." Forven slipped my arrow into his own quiver. I shook my head, eyes rolling towards the sky as Forven laughed. "I'll kill an orc with it, just for you. Do not worry, my prince."
I would have laughed, but a chill whispered through the trees. The leaves rustled and I stumbled to a stop, glancing over my shoulder. The feeling was subtle, unprecedented. My hair caught in the wind, warrior braids having slipped through the frenzy of the day. I narrowed y eyes, jaw tightening. "Do you feel it, Forven?"
"Aye," my lieutenant said. "The trees are... troubled."
"More than troubled, gwador. They are angered."
Forven clasped my forearm. "Leave it, Legolas. Wait for the battle. You will have your victory then."
I knew him to be right, but still I shivered. Somehow, the stars did not shine as they most often did. Their twinkling was dimmed, sad even, as if Shadows had reached into the heavens above us, and now drew a lasting veil of night.
______________________________
To be continued...
Sidh : peace
Also, thank you for all the votes and comments, and welcome new readers! It would be totaly awesome if you shared this story with anyone you think might be interested. :)
Good? Bad? Awful? Your thoughts are very much appreciated!