Chapter Nineteen: Fear—Legolas
My eyes wandered—ever watchful, ever wary.
The thin red line on Caneir's neck dripped slowly, blood staining pale skin as a quill's tip upon parchment.
I might have winced in sympathy if not for how closely my movements were being watched. Every breath I took seemed to be pondered, scrutinized, examined. Should I so much as make one movement that aroused suspicion, I feared what consequences may be imposed—what they may do to my warriors.
My hands were tied behind me. The uneven ground dug into my knees. I missed the comfort of my quiver upon my back.
We had been lured into a trap, as flies to a spider's web. Mindless and haphazard, we had ventured into a place we should never have gone. Such might cost us more than we were willing to pay, more than our lives—we might have staked the peace of the realm upon our own carelessness.
And I had led the charge.
Our captor had left for a what I assumed to be a short time. So had he said, but somehow I did not trust the word of such a traitorous, scheming elf. My nostrils flared as I breathed deeply, struggling to not jump to my feet and shout a thousand curses to the elf that claimed to be me kin. As I did so, I felt a trickle slip over my lip. My tongue tasted blood, and I realized that it had yet to cease bleeding since the... disagreement I had had with my uncle apparent.
"My father has no brothers. You are no kin to me."
He leaned near to my face, his breath whispering against my neck. "Ah, blink and you'll miss it, nephew. Don't you know recall you dear uncle Duvainor?—oh, my mistake, you were but an newborn elfling at the time. Tell me, do you know for certain that your mother clung to no relations?"
I spat at his boots, a glare hardening my face. "Do not disgrace my mother with such accusation. You soil the name of Queen of Eryn Galen—" I took a breath but then a pain exploded across my jaw, colors dancing across my vision. I stumbled back, hearing an outcry of voices, my warriors voicing protest. Before action could be taken, I regained my footing, motioning for my warriors to calm. There were too many to fight. Patience would be our only weapon now.
"Me? Disgrace my sister? Nay, tithen-caun, not I. Your father, though"—he clicked his tongue—"your father seemed to face no trouble when it came to pressing a knife to her skin, watching the life drain from her, drip by drip. Do not speak to me of lack of respect—your father has performed the greatest disgrace. Even if I were to keep you as ransom, I doubt he'd offer a jewel to get you back. Looking at you now, I do wonder if you are my sister's child."
I stiffened. My heart thumped.
"Oh, do not feign surprise, tithen-caun. There must have been some reason that your father murdered her. And yet your eyes... tis a pity. You have her kindness. If only your father did not have a heart darker than the forest he has failed to protect."
"You'll regret this."
"Regret what? I have done little yet. The true sin has yet to come."
I shook my self from the past, but not from the emotions that they had branded upon my memory. I had no doubt that lies were woven into Duvainor's very existence had been twisted to bear near no semblance to truth. Somehow, though, there was something in his falsehoods that was fringed with memory. Something that I had seen—heard?—many years past.
The whispers. Rumors. Shadows. Those that believed that my naneth had not been lost to the darkness of the forest but to an evil that lurk much closer to the kingdom's heart. Her death, by the hand of the king—my adar. There was more alongside it, more of those that might have doubted my heritage. I had always paid them no mind. I still would. Though my adar's life was not void of cruelty, never would he raise a hand to the innocent. But this strange elf's speaking...
"I know you doubt me. You would be more of a fool than you seem if you didn't. But the day will come—soon. And then you will see. You will stumble. The forest will fall. Hope will die."
Cold fury hardened my jaw. "Lies," I spat. "You know nothing."
Duvainor chuckled. Slowly, at first, but then his voice permeated every crevice of the cave's empty air. "I know nothing, you say?" In one smooth motion, he stepped forward, and a hand suddenly closed around my throat. As breath was withheld from my lungs, it took all my willpower to refrain from stepping away and calling for escape. The angered unease of my warriors swelled around me, but I could hardly feel it around the pound of my heart in my ears. "Truly, nothing? You act as if I have not spent centuries, lying in wait, observing, thinking—watching for the second that I might destroy this forest. Nay, tithen-caun... I know everything there is to know. And I know that you are too weak to stop me."
My vision was blurring, fingers twitching with the urge to retaliate. But the cost would be too great should I act.
There was a black fringe to all that I could see. A tunnel, closing, shrinking, darkening...
And then all went still. Duvainor's lips curled into a smile, and if his eyes had turned black I would not have been surprised. T'would only have mirrored the stain that I knew had enraptured his fea.
With a shake of his head, Duvainor allowed his grip on my neck to loosen. A hand on my chest, he shoved me back into the awaiting arms of my warriors. I coughed, struggling to draw breath, but soon gained my feet again. Shoulders shaking, I turned a glare towards our captor, but he had grown bored with our game. Shouting few short orders to the being around him, he turned his back. He said his return would be swift.
Hours ago, and I had yet to see him since.
They'd stopped watching me. What had only just been frozen glares morphed into callous conversation. It was as if their responsibility had been lost to leisure.
Caneir slowly moved nearer to me. The watch on us had lessened, nearly as if our captors were bored—
—or perhaps we had already served our purpose.
When Caneir reached my side, I spoke, head bowed and voice barely a murmur. "Do you see it?"
"Are you referring to how dark and foreboding this cave is, or the fact that the exit seems to be conspicuously lacking any guard?"
"In this instance, the exit bit."
Caneir nodded. "Yes, that's what I thought." He smiled tightly. "What do you make of it?"
"It seems to me that they're less focused on keeping us here, as they are hoping that we'll attempt an escape." It was a stretched thought, but one that could hardly be disregarded.
A moment passed in silence. Caneir's brow furrowed. "Pardon, caun-nin... Could you explain?"
Ai, and there was the key difference between Forven and Caneir. Forven might have simply followed blindly; Caneir might have done the same, but he if it were to be offered, he would accept explanation before action—a reason for my half-conceived plan.
Such was likely for the better.
I tipped my head, swinging my chin towards the guards dispersed about the cavern. "It's not that they're not watching—if you're ever trapped in the midst of an orch camp you would see that a lack of focus is common. But if you look closer... these elves, they're forcefully looking away. They want us to know that we're not being watched."
"They're waiting for us make our move."
"Aye. Think: do they have any cause to keep us here now? They've made their statement. We're no good as hostages to him—he said so himself. So what other purpose could we serve?"
Slow realization dawned in Caneir's eyes. The warrior shook his head. "He's insane... We're to be an example—bring the news of what we've seen."
A coy smile pricked my lips at his deduction. "There you have it. But we'd be lax to give him that satisfaction so easily."
"Do you have a better idea than escape?"
"In a way." I said simply, turning to face the depths of the cavern. My eyes scanned the shadows, watching for anything to slip out of them. My shout echoed the moment I began to speak. "Hanaruin naneth-nin." The words burned like acid on my tongue. "If you wanted us to leave, you might have simply told us."
In response there was no noise. A shocked silence. For a moment, I feared that my surmising had been wrong.
But then I heard his laugh.
My anger broiled through my frozen veins.
And then Duvainor emerged, his rhythmic clapping in time with his steps. "Ah, nephew, you are a clever ellon aren't you. Honestly, I thought it would be far past dawn when I finally prodded you to leave."
"You think we're scared of you." It wasn't a question. I didn't need his confirmation. The smirk on his face was telling enough.
He waved his hands, brows raised in an innocent frown. "Well I don't see why you wouldn't be... I have elves, spiders, yrch... all at my fingertips. If you care for your lives, I would think you would be—but then, by how many warriors are lost on your forest escapades, perhaps life's value is not as great to you as I was led to believe."
If my hands were not tied securely behind me, I would have leapt for my weapons in that moment. Alas, it was not to be, and instead I straightened, shoulders firmly set and eyes narrowed to slits. "Spin your lies, Duvainor. Your web is too weak to imprison those who have light left in them. Our kingdom shan't fall—but you will."
"Oh, I doubt that nephew." All humor had left his voice. He stepped to stand barely a breath from my face. "Run home to Thranduil. We'll see whose heart is torn out first." He sneered, anger burning in his eyes as the wrath of a balrog. "Take your weapons and go. One foul move and an arrow will rip through each of your warriors faster than you can repent of your action.
There was a sudden movement, Duvainor's knee moving upward. I grunted as a pain spread across my abdomen, doubling over. Duvainor leaned over me and, in the next breath, I felt the ropes around my wrists slip away as a knife ripped through them-subsequently scraping across my hands and wrists. As blood slowly stained my fingertips, I took a step away from the crazed elf. "Do not underestimate the might of the elves of Eryn Galen. You will not win."
And with that I turned, motioning for my warriors to follow. Our weapons awaited us at the cave's entrance. As we shouldered them, we were silent. Though we may have wished to fight, we were outnumbered.
The journey through the forest was ominous, but courage was in our every step. The battle was yet to come, and when it did, I could not be held accountable for the ruthlessness of my warriors.
"Captain," Caneir said. "Do you... Is that mad elf truly of the line of the queen?" His voice was soft, respectful, but incredulous.
I could only shake my head, heart begging for release from my restricting chest. "I don't know, maithor. I don't know."
The bare rays of sun were tinted red, staining the forest ground with a promise of what may still come. The forest may be stained crimson before the day was up.
________________________________________________
To be continued...
Hanaruin naneth-nin : brother of my mother (rough... it was as close as I could get to uncle)
Good? Bad? Really weirdly awful? Honestly, I'm really nervous about this part. Please, please, please let me know!