Faded Light: Book II

(For additional notes and disclaimers, please see top of Chapter 1.)


- ...here it is, the last part of this super-sized chapter. -

Chapter 16

Burdens Pt. 3


When he returned hours later, Legolas was awake. Only his flushed face and red eyes showed how bitterly he must have been weeping.

Tadion had assured him the prince’s injuries would heal on their own in a few days, but it was Legolas’ spirit that was beginning to concern Ruthlagor more than anything...to look at him, it seemed almost as if his faer had departed already...

Despite all of the dark things in the world he had seen in his thousands of years, for so vile an act to be committed against one of little more than three centuries was still more than the advisor could comprehend.

“Leave the tray,” said the prince, so low Ruthlagor wasn’t sure he’d actually spoken. “I’ll sup later.” He offered no other response to his uncle’s presence other than turning on his side, and curling deeper beneath his blankets, his back to the elder elf.

He set the tray on the desk and came to the prince’s bedside and watched the youth visibly tense underneath the covers as Ruthlagor sat on the side of the bed.

“Penneth...look at me...

"I am sending a message to your father in the morning,” he tried again, “in truth, I should have done it already...”

”You can’t...he can’t know...” the youth’s voice, which had sounded so lifeless now filled with near despair.

The elder elf frowned, “You don’t really think your father would ever blame you for this..."

“Saes,” the prince pleaded, “Ada can’t know...ever...”

“Highness," he began as gently as he could knowing that the prince was far from a reasonable state and was still in shock, “I need you to tell me who it was, Penneth. Who did this?”

Concerned at first with assuaging Legolas’ distress, he had not insisted on the obvious questions but had by now begun to form his own suspicions. He certainly knew of no elf in the palace who would dare commit such a vicious assault on their prince and the Men among the guards were all accounted for...except for Delos, who none had seen since last night...

"Whoever it was, Legolas, he must be found and...”

"...and what?” spat the prince, finally looking up from his hiding place, “brought back, tried in the king’s court so all can know about my humiliation...?

“What would that change? His punishment will not give me back what he took from me...knowing him rotting in a dungeon or even dead will not take away my dishonor or make me whole again...

”...how can I ever again raise my head in my father’s presence, if he knows what that Man...that his heir was forced to lay beneath a Mortal, like a common whore...”

“Legolas, this was in no way your fault...do you understand me...? The dishonor is his, not yours...”

“...that knowledge does not make me feel any less vile.”

"My prince...you know that I must answer to your father for whatever befalls you... I cannot keep this from him, and he will demand to know who it was...”

"You must answer to my father?" he scoffed. "You might have thought of that before assigning that Human filth...Delos to my guard..." he stopped, realizing he had said more than he wanted to...

"...Delos...are you saying it was Delos who dared to..."

“Am I now to be accused of being a liar as well,” he murmured bitterly, “it was he...” he admitted at last.

“Whatever our differences, Highness, I know you are no liar...”

"...he came into my room last night, and he...he...” the prince began but could not go on...unable to look at the elder Elf now and seemingly retreating into himself for several long moments, until Ruthlagor truly began to worry...

“...Legolas,” he turned the prince’s face to look at him though he still would not meet his eyes.

“...I was sleep...he came into my room,” in a low voice, he haltingly began to give Ruthlagor an account of the horrific experience he had endured at the Man’s hands. “I do not know where he got a key...I never wanted him in there, so I’ve never given him one...and I spoke with Urúvion and made sure he would not give him one either...”

Ruthlagor made a mental note to look into this too; besides Uruvion, the head of the palace guard, the only one who had a key to every door in the Royal wing was the king; though in his absence Ruthlagor, Mereniel and both the king’s sons knew where they were always kept.

“I awoke and saw him standing over the bed,” the prince went on, “but sleep was still on me and I did not move quickly enough...he fell upon me and held something over my face...some sort of damp cloth...everything is darkness after that...when I began to wake again my clothes were gone and his...” his voice dropped almost to a whisper, as he reached the last part, his pale face going a deep shade of red at speaking of the shameful act; his eyes were filled with horror, and Ruthlagor knew he could see only the memory of the night before.

“He was on top of me...he was touching me, and it hurt...he said...that I shouldn't pretend to be such an innocent...that he was sure I'd already let more Ellons and Mortals bed me than I could remember...

"I couldn’t find the strength to fight him off...I remember grasping out for anything that might be within reach...when the pitcher broke, I tried to use one of the glass shards as a weapon...but it was not enough...several times, he struck me so hard I feared I would pass out again...” he wrapped his arms more tightly around himself, shaking slightly and shut his eyes, “...I wish I had...I wish he had made sure I never woke...”

“My prince, do not say that...”

The youth went on as if not hearing his uncle, "...but then he clamped one hand over my mouth...when he started to...I couldn’t scream...I was dying, and I couldn’t scream...then he had his other hand around my throat, he choked me while he...” his voice finally broke, and he turned on his side again, curling himself into a wretched little ball beneath the heavy blankets, as if wanting to disappear.

“...you wish me to tell these things to my father," he whispered miserably, "without dying of shame even as the words fall...”

“Legolas, if you do not tell him and you begin fading…"

"I won’t...I swear, I won't,” he turned to his uncle again, wiping at the fresh tears on this face, a desperate look on his face. “Let us pretend it did not happen...in a few days the bruises will heal, and all will be well...

"I will not allow a filthy Man to break me,” he finished vehemently, anguished blue eyes taking on a fierce, hard look.

“And if ever you speak a word of this to anyone else, Uncle, I swear to you, I will deny it. I will make sure Adar thinks you a mad elf for inventing anything so vile..."

“Highness...” he fought to maintain his own composure, knowing the prince’s words did not stem from any rational place but out of rage and pain.

“If you do not mind, I’d like to be alone now,” he drew the covers more tightly around himself and turned away again, “I’m very tired.” Once more, he sounded more empty and defeated than anyone Ruthlagor had known in a more than a millennia. “I never knew one could ever feel so tired...”

“Legolas, you need to at least eat something or you will weaken...you haven’t eaten since yesterday...” but the youth wasn’t listening anymore; he had again retreated to whatever that place was that he kept escaping to to protect himself...


===============================================


...it was two mornings later, that he returned to find Feredir’s bedchamber empty, the bed already made and once more found himself having to track down the prince who in the past two days had scarcely left his bed except to bathe, which he had been doing three or four times a day, responding to Ruthlagor’s questions with no more than two word answers.

Now he was back in his own room already dressed, strapping his quiver on, a packed bag on the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going...?”

“I thought I’d go to Faervel’s for a day or two...”

“Fearvel? Do you realize your father is due back any day?”

“That’s why I have to leave. I can’t see him right now...”

“And what am I supposed to tell him when he wants to see you?”

“Tell him whatever you want...just don’t tell him why...”

“Faervel’s home is on the other side of the forest; it’s dangerous and you’re in no state to...”

“To go riding?” he finished bitterly, proud blue eyes full of defiance.

“I’m healing well enough, and Nemir is coming with me, if it makes you feel better. I’ll send him back if I decide to stay more than a few days...”

“And what will you say when someone asks about the bruises...since your intent is for no one to know...”

“I was on a tree branch and it broke...or I’ll tell them I got trounced sparring with Ethiel...”

He tried to smile but it was far from convincing. “I know Ethiel will be glad to take that credit.”

“I doubt very much your friends will believe it, Legolas. They’ve seen you spar. And though Ethiel is my son, I will not deny his skills do not equal yours.

“Is this how you plan on dealing with things now, Highness, making up stories as you go...”

“You have no right to tell me how to deal with this...you don’t know...” he closed his eyes and took a deep shaky breath, pressing his hands to the sides of his head, “...you have no idea...”

“You’re right,” he tried to soften his tone. “I don’t, but you pretending it away will not fix it...you need to talk to your father...”

“I do not think there is any way to fix this...and I do not know if I will ever be ready to talk to Ada...not about this...”

He threw his bag over his shoulder and picked up his bow. “I have to go. Nemir is waiting for me at the stables...”

“Legolas...”

But the prince had already disappeared over his balcony and into the trees surrounding his window...

===================================

“But he did not fade…”

“After a time, I believe he repressed the memory. If ever I tried to mention Delos or that night, he would change the subject or seemed truly not to know what I was referring to."

“I have heard of such things. Victims of some violent trauma forcing the memory away into some unconscious part of the mind..."

“I do not know if he and Tadion ever spoke of it after those first few days...I know he was as concerned as I, and he pressed Legolas as I did to speak with your father, but his oath forbade him saying anything to anyone else without his highness’ leave...”

“...but all those buried emotions manifested themselves otherwise didn’t they...and much of it was directed toward you...”

“I cannot know all that went on in his head...he was angry for a long time; though even he himself could not understand the real reason...

But he had already angry with me long before Delos…he never forgave me for my failure, anymore than I ever managed to forgive myself.”

“Because of Naneth,” it was not a question.

“...though, as I recall, Adar was not immune...after a while it seemed all they did was argue, and once Legolas began his formal training and became a novice warrior he spent most of his time away...

“What ever became of that Man, Delos...?” he asked.

“He had disappeared after that night, but it did not take long to track him down, as discreetly as possible...even if I had had any reason to doubt any part of what Legolas told me, the cuts he left on Delos’ body were evidence enough...

“...I gave him a slow death, after I had him gelded.”

“A fitting sentence. I cannot say I disapprove of it.

“Though I wish you had not held your silence back then. Had we known what Legolas was suffering, perhaps we could have found a way to help him.

“Instead, he sought to escape by spending his time in the woods, fighting whatever momentary threat there was...until he fell to something even worse...”

“Though I cannot see the point of speaking of it with the king now. He has suffered much and this knowledge would only add to it. He would blame himself.”

“You are right. But you do yourself an injustice, Hir Nin. You are no more to blame for what happened to my brother than Adar or myself.

“Would that one of us had seen...but it is only that Man who should be held at fault...you could not know what he would do...none of us can ever truly know what is in another’s heart, and you did at the time what seemed best.”

He shook his head, “I must live with my share of the blame.

“Though perhaps one day Legolas will grant me his forgiveness when we meet again in Valinor.”

“Or perhaps he would think that you have punished yourself enough...”

“Perhaps...but it is my regret to live with...Legolas is gone, and I know I can never make amends.

“I have thought for a long time of going west, but duty binds me here while things continue as they are...”

“Your sons might help ease your burdens if you allowed them...”

“Leralonde you mean.”

“I know it is not my affair, hir nin, but it seems with all the grief that has already gone on under this roof, a wiser thing to act while we can than live with further regrets later...

“Do you not think you have punished your son enough for something that will not change...”

“You are right, Feredir, it is not your place,” said the advisor stubbornly. “But I do thank you for your counsel...”

“Believe me, hir nin,” said the younger elf taking back his brother’s journal as he rose, “even elves have not time enough to waste on such anger...once it is gone there is no regaining it...”

TBC...

Elvish Translations:


Faer / Soul

Saes / Please

Penneth / Young one

Adar, Ada / Father, dad, daddy

Naneth, nana / Mother, mom


(Okay, what do you think...? I really want feedback on this...please, don’t forget to comment...)