She’d killed them. Every last one.
Realizing her danger too late, escape hadn’t been an option. The only other exit was on the far side of the cavern of spider eggs. Eggs that were hatching.
She’d made a break for it anyways and in moments was covered in slimy egg sacs that were discarded by the active newborns.
The floor was soon flooded with writhing spiders and strange liquids. The stench was enough to make Runa’s lunch threaten to return up the way it had gone down. She had tried to make it out, she really had, but it didn’t take long for the spiders instincts to kick in.
They swarmed her and she hadn’t had a choice at that point.
Whipping out her double swords, she had stabbed and slashed, discarding the small demons by the handfuls. She had fought and fought. She didn’t know how long. Maybe it had been ten minutes? Maybe it had been hours?
In the darkness of the cavern, she couldn’t tell. By the time she had reached the hole on the far side she was exhausted and covered in spider guts and the egg’s fluids that flooded the floor. Despite their newborn state, the spiders had inflicted several nasty wounds on her legs, torso and arms.
Looking back, she’d seen her work’s results. Piles of small bodies lay in heaps over the eggs they’d just come out of, the occasional survivor twitching or dragging itself across the oozing floor. What a welcome into life, Runa thought bitterly.
Then, she had weakly dragged herself out of that pit of despair. It hadn’t take long for her to realize her comrades were gone and she had quickly found their tracks.
She had eyed the footsteps, blinking through dizziness to try and make out the footsteps in the dirt. Finally, she’d realized what had happened,
“Elves…” Tracking them back to the palace, she’d managed to catch up and slip in behind the last of the guards escorting her friends.
When one of the guards had gone ahead to notify the king, she’d followed, slipping in and hiding herself among the rafters of the throne room, careful not to leave a trail of the disgusting liquids that still covered her.
She watched the elven king pace by himself.
“Dwarves…” his voice was so clearly laced with disgust she hadn’t been able to suppress a chuckle. Hearing her amusement, he whipped around and she froze, not even breathing as he scanned the room.
Then the danger passed as he heard footsteps. When she next peeked out, she saw Thorin and Aelith standing, chained up, before the elven king.
“Who is this?” Runa heard the elven king ask.
“The name’s Aelith, King Thranduil of Greenwood.”
Thranduil… the name was well known. The great elven king of Greenwood.
“Aelith…” Runa focused in on the conversation as King Thranduil went on. “Why does your name sound familiar? And how do you know me?”
“I am representing the Sisterhood. Perhaps our reputation precedes us as yours precedes you?”
“Really? Indeed it does…” Runa grinned. Yes… over time the Sisterhood had developed quite the reputation. She frowned as she heard the elven king’s next words,
“But how do I know you are who you say?”
“We could test the truth of my words…” Runa repressed a snicker at her friend’s not so subtle hinting.
“I like your spirit, but any man may be a good swordsman… How many females were of their company?”
“Five sir. A wizard, an elleth, and two humans and a hobbit with a chicken.”
“Five?” asked Thranduil, echoing Runa’s confused thoughts. Who was the fifth?
“Yes, but the hobbit with the chicken claims not to know the other four girls.”
Runa was dreadfully curious about this hobbit who’d mysteriously appeared, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that.
“I’m afraid I’ve caught your lie,” Thranduil laughed at Aelith. “The Sisterhood has five members.” Runa looked again to see Aelith smiling knowingly.
“Just because a person isn’t seen doesn’t mean they’re not present.”
Runa leaned back, a smile on her face. Aelith knew she was here.
Tuning out the rest of the conversation, Runa looked down at her wounds grimly. they needed treatment, but that would have to wait. Perhaps she could find the healing wing of the palace later. But for now, something needed to be done about the elven king.
“King Thranduil,” she whispered to herself as she peeked out again. Aelith, Thorin and the guards were gone and His Highness sat on the throne, a pensive, but altogether too pleased look on his face.
Yes, Runa thought, he definitely needs taken down a peg or two. Looking about her, a plan began to formulate and an impish smile growing on her face.
***
Nienna was really bored and Nora singing a rousing sea chanty loudly (and off key) in the cell next to her was triggering a twitch in her left eyelid.
“Will. You. Shut. Up.” Nienna growled through gritted teeth.
“What’s the magic word?” asked Nora cheekily.
“Please.”
“Nope! IIIIIIIIIIIIT’S SUPERCALAFRAGA-”
“SHUT UP NOBODY EVEN KNOWS WHAT THAT MEANS!” exclaimed an equally irritated Dori on the other side of Nora.
Just then, footsteps approached, and the company got quiet very fast, eyes trained on the only entrance to the dungeons. From it came a young, petite looking elleth with long silvery hair tied back.
“Hello?” she asked nervously.
“Why good morrow fair maiden!” chirped Nora.
“Shut up,” Nienna muttered to her hobbit friend.
“Silvia?” a male voice came from behind the fair elf, still hesitating in the doorway. “Wait a moment, I’m coming.”
As the elleth, Silvia apparently, entered further into the room, another elf appeared. He was tall and lean with blonde hair that was pulled back from a well defined face.
“Yes Legolas?” asked the elleth. Nienna head jerked up to stare at the two elves.
“You know you’re supposed to have a guard accompany you into the dungeons.” The elleth rolled her eyes,
“Just because I work in the healing ward doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”
“I know,” laughed Legolas, “but caution isn’t a sin.”
“Fine, fine, you’re here now, aren’t you? Let me work.” With that, she turned to the collection of cells holding the company and, finding a rapt audience, hesitated once more. Swallowing slightly, she moved forward,
“Is there a leader of your company?”
“I AM THE ALL POWERFUL LEADER-” Everyone facepalmed.
“Nora,” interrupted Avice. “Shut. Up. There’s no leader.”
“What are you speaking of?” demanded Thorin, rounding on Avice angrily. “I am the King Under the Mountain, thus I am the leader.”
“Oliphant droppings,” Avice retorted witheringly.
This cause an uproar. Thorin began proclaiming his ancient heritage at the top of his voice, determined to make Avice listen. Aelith was trying to get Thorin and Avice to shut up. The dwarves were bickering about various topics, some not even remotely related and Nora had changed her tune and was now announcing,
“WE ARE A DEMOCRACY! POWER TO THE PEOPLE! BWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAAA!”
The two elves looked on in shock at the uncontrollable chaos now shattering the peace. Nienna, was tightly gripping the bars of her cell, her eye twitching one again.
“Everybody SHUT UP!” Nienna’s voice cut through the ruckus and quieting everyone. They all slowly turned to stare at the irritated elf in shock.
“Thank you. Now what do you want?” Nienna now directed her words at the surprised elleth and elf.
“I’m… uh… hear to treat any wound you might have…” The elleth said, slightly nervous.
“Good, please go right ahead.”
Silvia slowly approached the cell nearest to her and entered, Legolas protectively watching her work. Nora, noticing Nienna’s tense gaze directed at the two elves, subtly leaned over.
“Hey… what’s wrong?” she asked her friend, Fili listening in from Nienna’s left as she continued to eye the elves, who were, thankfully, out of earshot. Nienna sighed,
“Remember how I was running away from an arranged marriage?”
“Yeah…” Fili said slowly, not sure where this was going.
“Well, I just remembered that the guy was the son of Thranduil, king of Greenwood…”
“And your point is…”
“Well he is HERE.”
“Here? In this palace?”
“In this room actually.”
“Your fiance is a criminal?” asked Nora, really confused.
“No stupid he’s a prince.” Fili and Nora looked at each other, then shrugged, saying simultaneously,
“I don’t get it.” Nienna sighed, then abruptly called out,
“Hey what did you say your names were?” The two elves, who’d been getting closer and closer, looked up at her.
“We didn’t,” said the male elf stoically, but the elleth rolled her eyes, elbowing him.
“I’m Silvia,” she introduced herself, smiling. There was an awkward silence as her friend refused to speak. Another sharp jab into his side encouraged him to say,
“And I’m Legolas, Prince of Greenwood.”
Nienna looked at Nora and Fili significantly, but both still had blank looks.
“Three,” she whispered, “two, one-”
“OOOOOOOOOOOH!” Nora exclaimed, realization dawning in Fili’s eyes as well. “He’s your-”
“Nora shut your trap before I cut your tongue out,” hissed Nienna before Nora could reveal anything. The two elves had already moved to the next cell, oblivious to any sort of excitement over their identities.
As they moved one cell closer, Nora look Prince Legolas up and down appreciatively.
“Well I can’t imagine why you ran away from that particular specimen,” she commented to Nienna. Fili stiffened slightly, listening as she went on, “Not my type of course, but undeniably attractive.”
“Elves aren’t attractive,” Fili interjected heatedly, “they’re hideous, loathsome beings who-” he stopped a bit too late to see Nienna raising an eyebrow at him critically.
“Not you, of course,” he amended, quickly withdrawing into his cell. Nienna sighed, turning back to Nora.
“Well I didn’t know he was young and attractive,” she defended. Nora raised her eyebrows,
“Have you ever seen an ugly elf?”
“All the time,” came a muffled retort from Fili’s cell. Nora shot a glare in Fili’s direction, but then turned back to looked at Nienna, patiently waiting for an answer.
“Well no…” she finally admitted, then adding, “but he might have an awful personality!” Nora turned to look at the prince in question, saying,
“Much could be forgiven of someone with those looks.” Neinna laughed, cracking up even harder at another jealous sally that came from Fili’s cell,
“Except his face.”