Between Duty and Love

Part Six -- Saved!

“THRANDUIL! DARO!” Mithrandir shouted from a distance.

Startled, the King of Greenwood dropped the blade. It hit the ground with a soft ‘thud’.

He had barely missed his son. Another inch, and Legolas would have been impaled. The frightened child stared at his father in shock and hurt; his chest quickly rising and falling with heavy breathing.

Thranduil was overcome with grief as he looked at the sight before him. He collapsed to his knees, weeping, hiding his face behind his folded arms.

Mithrandir stood behind the Elvenking and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let him go, Thranduil.”

The king made no reply, but slowly, his hand reached for the fallen blade. Grasping it, he raised it to the cords to Legolas’ arms and slit them in half.

Legolas quickly snapped off the ropes binding his wrists together, and untied his legs. Once free, he took off running into the woods. Soon, the sound of a horse’s neigh cut through the night air. He had taken off with Nimlith, one of the horses.

Thranduil continued to sit in the dirt. He wanted to go back three days, before the discovery of the book; or better yet, before the Darkness fell over Greenwood.

Not a sound was made, except for a single cricket chirping. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Thranduil finally spoke.

“Kill me now, Mithrandir,” he said, barely audible. “I beg of you, end my torment and send me to the awaiting Halls of Mandos.”

“No, Thranduil,” the Maia replied, shaking his head. “I cannot do that, for reasons which you already know.”

“But what will I do? How could I do something like this to my own son?” the Elvenking asked. “Greenwood will collapse beneath me and be destroyed and Legolas thinks I’m no better than an orc. I doubt he will ever look upon me as a father again, much less a loving one.”

“I doubt any of them. Greenwood will not easily fall, and Legolas will forgive you in time.”

“Somehow, though,” Thranduil whispered, his brow wrinkled in uncertainty. “I do.”

~*~

Legolas was driving the poor horse as fast as he was able. He didn’t care where he was going – he just wanted to get away, to somewhere safe. Everything was a blur; he barely seemed to notice that dawn would be approaching within the hour.

Tears of betrayal ran down his face. His own father had tried to kill him!

//But it could not have been him . . . ú-adar nín . . . he loves me . . . but it *was* him . . . holding a blade above me . . . why would he do such a thing? . . . does he not love me anymore? . . . adar? . . . or Morgoth in disguise? . . .//

He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his tunic. His mother would have had a fit if she had seen . . .

//Nana . . . aníron le nant si . . . I need you now more than ever . . .//

Without warning, Nimlith suddenly fell to the ground due to exhaustion, and Legolas was violently thrown off of her, tumbling on the forest floor until he crashed against a tree.

His entire body was sore. With a groan, he rolled over onto his back. He turned his head, and saw the horse lying on the ground. Painfully, he slowly crawled over her and shook her mane.

“Nimlith, erio. Tolo, boe ammen gwanno.”

But the horse did not move or respond.

A loud shriek behind him caused him to jump. He spun around, and four pairs of red eyes starred back at him. It was a giant spider, hidden in the darkness.

He shook the horse again. “Hurry, Nimlith. We have to get out of here.”

Still, the horse did not move.

Legolas began to panic. “Nimlith?” He turned, and the spider stepped out from the shadows.

Its large, brown fangs dripped with venom, and all eight of its beady eyes were fixed on its next meal – the young elf. It growled, and Legolas heard it speak. “Fresh . . . meat . . .”

Terrified, Legolas backed into the trunk of a large tree. Looking for escape, he found none. He had unknowingly trapped himself.

The great spider seemed to laugh at its fortune. With a deep hiss, it jumped at Legolas. The prince screamed at the top of his lungs.

“LEGOLAS!”

Something large flew out of the brush and crashed into the spider, knocking it to the ground. It was Thranduil. When he stood upright, his sword was covered in black spider blood.

“Legolas,” he gasped, pointing his sword north, “take Malwaew and run!”

Without hesitation, Legolas ran to where his father had pointed. There, standing, was the second horse. Legolas mounted in a single leap, and rode back to the palace. Leaving the horse in the stables, he continued to run, not stopping until he had closed the door to his room and leaned against it.

He was safe.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Daro! (Stop!)
Nimlith (White ash)
ú-adar nín (not my father)
adar (father)
Nana (Mom)
aníron le nant si (I wish you were here)
Nimlith, erio. Tolo, boe ammen gwanno. (Nimlith, get up. Come, we need to leave.)
(Literally, “Nimlith, arise. Come, it is needed to us to depart.”)
Malwaew (Golden wind)