Upon Earth's Opening

Chapter 16: Anor rises now

Legolas left Caen’s bedroom with fire in his eyes and a pledge in his heart. Never before did he ever feel so passionate. Never before did he feel so focused, except perhaps as a child in his archery lessons. He knew with every fiber of his being that he was going to track down Caen’s father and kill him. He knew that this was a crime against his very essence; he knew to preserve the lives of the eldar, not destroy them. But he couldn’t let this go on any longer. He couldn’t let Caen’s father live any longer for he had committed such terrible crimes against his own kin, his own people.

These passionate thoughts caused such distraction that Legolas walked straight into Lord Elrond, which nearly knocked Legolas to the ground. Elrond, the epitome of poise and control, was barely swayed.

“Thrandulion,” Elrond acknowledged with a nod, offering his forearm for Legolas to grip.

“Lord Elrond,” Legolas replied, taking Elrond’s forearm and grimacing. He did not want to hang around and observe courtly pleasures. He wanted action.

“You are disturbed,” Elrond observed.

“Not so much disturbed as…” Legolas searched for a word, “resolute.”

“Resolute to do what, may I ask?” Elrond peered deeply into Legolas’ eyes and Legolas suddenly felt as if he were being examined under a magnifying glass. He paused, wondering if it were a good idea to reveal his intent. “I will know if you lie to me,” Elrond spoke then, as if he was reading Legolas’ mind.

“Very well, my lord. I intend to seek out Caen’s father and kill him.”

“Indeed,” was all Lord Elrond replied, as if it was the obvious choice, and then after a moment he remarked, “That is quite the intention.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How do you intend to fulfill such a desire?”

“I do not know, sir,” Legolas answered after a slight pause, still looking at Elrond intently.

“Very well,” Elrond replied. When he said no more, Legolas inclined his head and began to leave, but Elrond grabbed his arm as he passed and held him there. “And when, may I ask, do you intend to fulfill this desire to kill Morthen?”

“Tonight, sir,” Legolas said without hesitation. “Now.”

“Very well,” Elrond repeated. “Then leave now. I will not inform Caen of your intent.”

“Thank you,” Legolas said, relieved. He had not wished to express his thoughts aloud that he thought that Caen would be better off not knowing his intentions for this night, because Legolas knew that she would try to stand in his way. She would be angry with him when she found out, he knew that for a fact, but she would at least be safe. With that comforting though, he walked to his room to gather what he needed. Soon after that, he walked out into the night.

--

Caen waited a full five minutes after Legolas left before she sprang into action. She quickly changed into sensible clothing and grabbed her sword and sheath, attaching it to her side before she stole out the window as she had done many times before in her life. This time, however, it was not to report to her father… it was to kill him. Her father would die tonight, and she intended to see it through.

She was not weak. Like so many times before, she could hear Morthen’s taunting laughter even now inside her head. She was not weak.

Silently she stole through the terrain. The world was silent now and her heart raced… would Morthen be there? Or would she have to track him down?

It did not take her long to arrive at the deserted camp she had visited so often before. She could sense that the shroud of black magic that had concealed it for so long were dropped and that there had been an organized mass exodus of the place very recently. Swords, spears, and other orcish weaponry littered the ground around her and not a soul lingered in the camp.

Well, one soul did. The soul was blackened with greed, murder, and foul magic.

“So you have come at last,” he said softly to her.

“You knew I would,” Caen spat at Morthen.

“Yes, I knew you would.” Morthen emerged from the shadows into the moonlight. The moon cast its light around him and for a second, Caen could have sworn that he existed as a shadow-creature, not of flesh and blood at all. “I knew that you would come crawling back to me… Weak. You are as weak as you have been your entire life. Suddenly you fall in love. In love,” Morthen spat at her, sarcasm dripping from his every syllable, “and what now? Have you come to kill me?” He threw back his head and laughed, a sound that chilled Caen’s blood. “I will never die.”

“You will die tonight, Morthen,” Caen said levelly. “And I will see to that.”

Morthen, still smiling, drew his sword and Caen gripped her sword with resolution. For a moment in time theonly sounds to be heard were the exhaled breaths of the two elves, and suddenly, Morthen attacked. He swung his sword at Caen in an overhead attack. Caen parried the blow and jumped aside. The attacks came repeatedly from Morthen and Caen defended herself surely. Caen spun out and grabbed at an abandoned spear on the ground and whirled around bearing both her sword and the spear in each hand. She advanced on Morthen, turning the tables on him, swinging the sword and lunging with the spear. Morthen, stepping back, lunged with both hands on the hilt of his sword at the spear Caen carried. With a mighty swing, Morthen splintered the spear and Caen was forced to drop the weapon. Caen, remaining unfazed, dropped the splintered piece of wood and continued her forward advance. She swung her sword with precision and, seizing a golden opportunity as Morthen feinted right, was able to swing and slice at Morthen’s arm. Morthen jumped back and ignored his blooded arm.

“Have you won, then, elfling? You stand there victorious, as you draw the first blood, I can see the triumph in your eyes.” Morthen and Caen started to circle each other, Morthen’s arm dripping blood on to the ground. “First blood means nothing. It is the last blood that matters in this fight,” Morthen whispered.

Morthen charged, sword drawn back for a fatal blow. Caen swung her sword up and was able to block the renewed attack. Morthen brought on an onslaught of assaults which Caen successfully was able to ward off until a moment when she misjudged the direction of an attack and Morthen was able to swing at her gut and slashed her stomach. After this, Caen tried to keep up a steady defense, but the wound hindered her too much and she was struck several more times. As the fight progressed, she realized she was merely defending herself, rather than attacking, and try as she might, she could not turn the tables on Morthen with this hindering wound. Morthen saw this and seized his golden opportunity, running forward and tackling her to the ground, knife at her throat. As she fell, Caen’s head struck a rock, and she fought consciousness as she struggled against Morthen’s grip.

“You are weak,” Morthen repeated, “and you shall die now.” Caen felt Morthen’s blade begin to cut into her throat when she heard the whizzing of an arrow go past her and bury itself in the ground next to her.

Morthen withdrew the knife from her throat and the pressure of his body on hers disappeared. Caen fought the blackness as she saw a beautiful blonde elf step away from the forest around them.

“Ahh, the Princeling has arrived too,” Morthen sounded amused. “Have you come to murder me too?”

“You shall die tonight,” Legolas spat at him.

“Everyone says that to me, yet no one has pulled through. No, Princeling. It is you who will die tonight, and as this useless elf has failed in her mission to kill you, I will be able to see it through.”

Caen groaned and tried to stand and fight again, but the world swam before her.

The Land Prince fought bravely to rescue the Sea Princess. He dropped his bow and quiver of arrows and withdrew two knives from their places on his back. He approached the evil man and the fight began.

Morthen had taken Caen’s sword from her hand and now gripped both swords in each hand. Legolas made the first attack, swinging his swords with expert precision at Morthen. Morthen parried each blow.

The Land Prince kept steady, fighting with years of experience and training at his back. He fought mightily and with a well placed swing, he ridded the evil man of one of his weapons. The evil man recovered without missing a beat.

Morthen, now with only Caen’s sword, gripped it with both hands and swung it overhead and brought it slashing down on Legolas’ head, an attack which Legolas blocked with crossed swords.

The Land Prince soon began to have the upper hand, wounding the evil man and nearly striking a death blow many times. But every time, the evil man was able to wriggle away. The fighting lasted many hours, and soon the dawn came.

“Anor rises, Princeling. The new day has begun, and yet I still live,” Morthen taunted. No sooner than the words had escaped his mouth, Legolas saw his opportunity to victory.

The Land Prince, in a deliberate movement, drew a knife back and plunged it into the evil man’s gut. The evil man, realizing he drew his last breath, stumbled away and fell to the ground.

“Anor rises now, and so you die now,” Legolas said coolly. Legolas withdrew his knife from Morthen’s stomach and readied his last attack.

Morthen did not fight the end. He looked not on Legolas, but directly at Caen, who still struggled with consciousness. “I will live on, daughter of mine. Through you.”

Before he had a chance to say anything else, Legolas plunged his knife through the elf’s heart. His eyes unfocused and finally, Morthen died.

Caen could no longer remain awake, and resigned herself to slip into darkness at last. Legolas swept the unconscious elf into his arms and carried her back to Rivendell for the second time. Upon their arrival at the Dell, Elrond and several guards stood in the main hall.

“He is dead,” Legolas said to Elrond.

“So you have succeeded,” Elrond noted. Legolas nodded curtly, a great weariness in his soul.

“My Lord?” one of the guards queried.

“Take her to her cell,” Elrond ordered.

“Lord Elrond?” Legolas sounded horrified as Caen was taken from his arms. “You will arrest her like a common criminal?”

“It is what must be done, Legolas. It is not what I wish, but it must be done. I will tend to her wounds and her trial will be today at the sun’s zenith.”

Legolas stood in the entrance hall before following Elrond into the prison. He would not leave her alone.