Feud

Feud
By erobey
Beta'd by Sarah AK
A rather dark Legolas slash before the Ring Quest.
Disclaimers in first chapter apply to all.

Chapter 53: Min Gannen, Min Dolen [One Caught, One Concealed]
Part 2

These events unfolded beneath the rustling of summer-dried leaves on the swaying branches of the oaks and beeches, the Greenwood now nearly silent as the rowdy ruckus of nesting birds and fledging chicks was done and the scurrying scavenging of four-footers to harvest nuts and fruits for winter's dearth accomplished. While Erestor attempted to dissuade his captors from treating him so shamefully, the current recipients of the King's hospitality were engaged in an intricately evasive side-stepping ballet. The sextet divided, differentiating by age into dually equal groups, and while the more youthful trio worked in accord the other triad desegregated again by race, and the individuals sought to evade the company of the rest without alerting anyone to this intent.

It was at best an ungraceful attempt, and none of the three adults involved managed to master the steps.

Upon leaving the Tawarwaith's quarters, Fearfaron at once sought to shake off the other two adults. He was certain he could not keep an eye on the young ones effectively if his comrades remained at his side, for only the carpenter, being elf-kind, would be quiet enough to follow without drawing notice. He claimed to have remembered an appointment with the tailor to retrieve the remainder of the new garments he had ordered for Legolas. While this was actually true, Fearfaron had no plans to leave the Stronghold or his adopted son. The clothing could wait another day, for then Legolas would be safely ensconced in Annaldír's old room in his comfortable talan on the edge of the city.

Mithrandir stared at the elf that had just uttered this bald, misspoken half-truth and lifted both his bristling brows in open disbelief. Usually an effective method, his stern silence did not goad the humble craftsman into admitting his true agenda. Mithrandir frowned. The wizard decided the best way to stop Legolas' plans was to be with him, and he also needed to learn more about how the recent infusion of energy might be affecting the wild elf. This could not be done with the Man and the carpenter present. Gandalf thus claimed that he could not truly get around in the city very comfortably as his wounded leg still pained him and he planned to retire to his rooms next door and rest for a time. He had to catch up on a great deal of correspondence and then wash and trim his beard.

The scepticism with which the mortal greeted these statements was just short of open derision as he gawked from the elf to the Maia in turn, fists firmly planted on his hips as he surveyed them with an incredulous scowl. Mithrandir had already trudged down to the kitchens and back at least twice, and the carpenter was unlikely to care about when he picked up the laundry. And yet, Aragorn did not challenge them openly, for he too had plans that he knew would be aborted if the wizard and the elf understood them. Instead Aragorn gruffly reported that he had some personal matters to attend to, though he was acquainted with no one in the Woodland Realm, other than these two and the young elves inside, such that he could not possibly have anything of a personal nature that would require his attention!

The three stood awkwardly outside the heavy oaken door to the wild elf's rooms in the torch lit hallway poised to move out to their respective destinations, each awaiting the others' retreat first.

Two minutes passed, the seconds flowing with all the speed of glacial ice, and none of them budged.

Gandalf cleared his throat.

Fearfaron sighed heavily.

Aragorn cursed through gritted teeth. "Valar! This is nonsense!"

"True," agreed Gandalf. "Each of us wants to remain with the young ones. We know Legolas is once more following some dangerous course, else he would not have bid us all three to go."

"Aye, but what must be done? We cannot simply follow him everywhere; he will think we treat him like a child!" added Fearfaron. "It was my intent to shadow his movements in secrecy, yet this I cannot achieve with the two of you along!"

"I doubt he would be unaware of your attempt even if we left you to it," Aragorn disagreed. "Legolas has keener senses than any I have ever met!"

"Aye, and an agenda we cannot guess, or rather one I fear to learn!" the carpenter hissed.

"We must confront him then!" growled the wizard and grasping the door's handle shoved it open. The three stared into the chambers in surprise and then hastened within. Quickly and silently they searched through every corner in vain. The Tawarwaith's suite was empty.

In this Erestor had guessed correctly all those years ago: Legolas indeed knew the cavernous stronghold better than its delvers, and every means of vacating it. Each room in the fortress had an alternate outlet that lead to a clever series of channels designed to guide the occupants safely from the fortress. He had located the concealed hatchway marking his room's bolthole the previous day while Mithrandir was dozing before the fire.

The hidden escape route was less a series of tunnels than a network of narrow chutes, wide enough for single file movement on hands and knees. Like the dendritic tributaries of a mighty river system, the cut passages wound sinuously through the stone from level to level, connecting the various chambers to the broader artery of the servants' steps. But the tunnels also provided an ultimate exit from the stronghold apart from that utilitarian means of navigation throughout the structure.

Upon reaching the level of the forest floor, the cramped crawlway proceeded straight and true to an insignificant looking cave that opened upon a small sheltered cove on the banks of the Forest River, just upstream from the docks. Within that unremarkable den were supplies and provisions, weapons and maps, and sturdy kayaks were stacked there should they be needed in the event of the fortress falling to enemy occupation.

Not toward this egress did Legolas lead his friend and sibling, however, but instead branched away from the main tunnel into an even narrower rock-walled tube. So steep was the incline in this route that the walls and floor of the stony passage were worked to provide smoothed hand and foot holds within easy reach.

The trio proceeded in silence with Legolas leading, bearing a small silver lantern to grant them light in the close coldness of the entombing rock. Lindalcon followed, carrying Gwilith, who stared wide eyed with thumb in mouth and the picture book clutched to her heart, at the dancing shadows and adamantine flashes of lamplight on muscovite. Before long the two older elves were panting from the exertion, each relegated to but one arm to assist in the ascent, but their journey was short and presently Legolas set his lamp upon the floor of a small room above his head and hauled himself up. Reaching back for Gwilith, he took her from her brother's arms and set her down next to him, then assisted Lindalcon in joining them. They took a moment to steady their breathing.

"Well done!" said Legolas at last. His side was throbbing and his leg felt practically aflame, but he was never one to let such pains hinder him, especially since he was certain the wounds were sufficiently healed over to prevent them tearing open again.

"Now, there is the connection to the back stairs," he said, pointing to another opening in the stone surface. "Go take Gwilith to your Naneth and follow the rest of the day's schedule as you normally would. I will make my way by this more covert means to the nursery rooms and meet you there at the evening meal. Do not forget about the diversion, Lindalcon!"

"Alright, but I still fear for the results this will bring!" said the younger elf as he collected up his sister and half-crouched, half-crawled toward the gaping black hole.

"Limlas, come with Gwilith!" the frightened child's frantic cry rebounded loudly from the stony walls, dancing heavily among the shifting shadows cast by Legolas' lamp. She did not like the way her brother's heart was pounding so ferociously within his chest as he moved into the tangible darkness of the tunnel.

"Ai! How could I be so thoughtless!" replied Legolas. "It will be well, Gwilith! Here, take the lantern, Lindalcon! The little one cannot bear such absence of light!"

But Gwilith was gripped with an inexpressible terror, for within her childish mind had sprung the thought that once she could no longer see her new big brother; Legolas would cease to exist. She tried to grab for him when he held out the lamp, but Lindalcon held her tight and she could not reach.

"Legolas!" she whimpered in despair and both her brothers heard her distress.

"Hush, Gwilith, there is nothing to fear! We are going to show Taurant the book, remember?" the Tawarwaith coaxed her with a gentle smile. "I am going this way now, but we will meet later!"

"Aye, the quicker we go the faster we will all be out of this nasty place!" added Lindalcon with feeling.

Gwilith looked from one to the other and returned her thumb to her mouth, not completely convinced but unable to explain herself better. She gave a small sigh and kept her tearful eyes upon the archer.

Lindalcon lifted the lantern, illuminating a silent expression of gratitude for his friend, for he was not eager to face such total blindness himself, but allowed Legolas to see his worry also. How would he fare in such conditions, in a duct even more confining?

"All will be well," the wild warrior reassured, placing a comforting hand on the younger elf's shoulder with a slight squeeze and a pat, a small grin upon his features as the lamplight drew sparkles from his gleaming eyes. He had been in worse places.

They parted then, and Legolas waited until the faint gleam of the silver lantern faded into obscurity and the darkness took on a depth and consistency he had experienced only once before. He inhaled deeply and groped forward, returning to the shaft that was barely wide enough for even his slender form to fit within without touching upon the sides.

The slope was gentle at first, yet he knew there were at least three more levels to climb before he would be near the Royal Apartment. He had a clear vision of where he was heading; having spent some time figuring out exactly what rooms the suite comprised, and he kept this interior diagram foremost in his mind, seeing it with a keener sharpness now that the stimulus of sight was revoked.

With little to do but sit and think, he had used the days of confinement to recall the general layout of these interlocking conduits. Though the arrangements of the quas has had been slightly altered, the rooms themselves were in no different places than they had ever been. One simply could not fill a hole in stone, healing over the rock as though no delving had occurred. So all he needed to understand was what the new chamber assignments were for the household. Through innocuously deceptive questioning of both Gladhadithen and Lindalcon, Legolas had managed to map out the location of the nursery and a probable course for reaching his destination.

He had not asked directly, for he wished them to be able to truthfully insist that neither had divulged this information, should any questioning follow and reprisals ensue.

The narrow tube began its incline, starting a steep ascent through the persistent darkness and Legolas was once more forced to use the grips cut into the stone, pulling himself hand over hand as though the exiguous gutter was a twisting ladder of monumental proportions.

In the blindness of the unending pitch and impenetrable shadow, the archer's hearing seemed acutely intense, and he could discern the rasping of grit slipping beneath his fingers and toes as he made contact with each groove. The ricochet of minute fragments of rock, dislodged by his progress, was inordinately exaggerated, seeming as loud as egg-sized stones bouncing down the passageway below him to strike the landing with sharp finality. Legolas knew the distance was not great and he would not be injured seriously by a fall, yet the noise was still unsettling.

He heard his own breathing, steady yet laboured, weighted more than it should be by the burden of over-exertion and stress upon a body not fully healed. The sound made an eerie echo all around him, so that soon it seemed as though he had at least two more elves in his wake and followed behind another. Thinking this reminded him of the spirits in the treasure chambers, and his heart began a more insistent staccato.

Now the increased teof tof this vital organ fairly thundered in his ears, and a minuscule bud of panic sought to bloom within his soul as the racing pulse thumped ever louder, mixing with the harshly resounding heaving of his lungs. Legolas halted in the compressed space and sought to calm his mood. He could not allow the stygian air to claim his reason and disorient him, for he could not afford to lose his way. No matter his resolve and his bold reassurances to Lindalcon, the wild warrior knew he could not last long within the tenebrous confinement, yet refused to dissolve his plans.

In vain he tried to bring back to his inner sight the mental map of the interwoven tunnels. Instead, images of darkly shifting shapes, formless yet coherent in their malignancy, loomed through his perception. It was like the crawling terror spawned by the Wraiths, or the sinking in his gut just as he sensed a spider about to strike. Legolas shook his head, hoping to dislodge the feeling of engulfing evil, for logic told him no one was in this conduit with him.

He attempted tok wik with Tawar, seeking a stabilising centre point for his confused impressions, but there was not even a desiccated root with which to connect and hundreds of feet of impenetrable rock blocked the joining. An empty space yawned in his soul in the absence of this communion, unbearable and terrifying. It seemed he might never know the Greenwood's consciousness again, and his sprouting anxiety grew rapidly into robust foreboding.

{I have entered into my own tomb! I will perish like a tree uprooted, for so do I also need the sustaining strength of Tawar's union! The mountain seeks to consume me; my feä will join the bereft souls in the chamber of the three doors!}

The Tawarwaith forced his brain to work, compelling his reason to exert itself and refute such nonsense, chiding his foolishness even as he quailed against the tide of abandonment and isolation flooding through his being. The tube had a beginning and an ending, a destination that served his needs. He was not a prisoner here; he was escaping from one. Merely an arm's span or two in any direction, though it be through solid stone, were rooms and hallways, caverns and alcoves wherein his friends and the household at large were going about their day.

{Lindalcon is putting himself at grave risk to aid me in this; I cannot fail here!}

He found he was trembling and sternly took himself in hand, demanding his legs to push him up, commanding his fingers roperope for the next slot in the rough-hewn rock. His breath now was a wind of determined exhalations as he sought to vent the over abundance of nervous adrenaline pumping through his veins. He counted each groove his fingers grasped and found this provided a distraction for his mind and slowed the racing pace of his vivid imagination. Legolas closed his eyes and sought again to recreate the inner vision of the map of the tunnels, visualising his current position and estimating the distance remaining to the next level. Even as he did so, his hand abruptly flailed into open space as he searched for the next handle, and with a great sigh of relief he pushed up onto the small, level landing.

For a moment he rested, drawing in long slow breaths as his heart returned to a less tumultuous rhythm and his terror subsided. Only two more levels remained and he would be done with this repulsive journey. Now he must take care and choose the correct passageway, or he would find himself upon the servants' steps and be forced to retrace his movements into the oppressive gloom. Legolas was not certain, should he break into light in the wrong place, if he would have the stomach to return to the eternal eclipse.

Reaching forth into the void as he crawled forward on the tiny platform, Legolas' hand brushed a smooth spot on the rock wall, and this brought him to a halt. None of the surfaces in such a place should be polished, for no one travelled such paths in leisure or by choice, and never would the finish be observed. He let his fingers delicately inspect the area, sending the sensations to his mind so that he formed an image there even in the lightless murk.

There were runes carved into the stone, strange in form and unfamiliar to his comprehension. Over and over he traced the incised marks, unable to decipher the meaning there, and in a flash he realised these were dwarven in nature.

At once he found the discovery reassuring, for somehow he had forgotten that living beings had made these burrowings. He had begun to feel that he was truly in the bowels of a huge monster, slowly being digested, reduced to merely a source of nourishment for some foul and evil presence.

Dwarves he knew not, and though he had seen them at the Battle of Erebor and upon the Forest Road journeying to destinations he had never bothered to be curious about, he had not once spoken with any. He was aware of the incarceration of a small contingent of the children of Aulë that had strayed from this common course through the forest several years before, but Legolas had not been in the Sylvan's city then, away on patrol to the north of the stronghold.

Now he wondered about this stalwart race of beings, composed by the love of Yavanna's husband of the stuff of the world, given the spark of the living Music as an afterthought of Iluvatar.

{Is this mark the name of one of the workers Thranduil hired? Perhaps it is a sign, directions for navigation.}

Somehow contemplating the author of the untranslatable writing steadied the woodland archer. The conduits were not designed to confuse and plague the inhabitants, keeping them hopelessly lost until hysteria and irrational terrors subdued them. These shafts and ducts were safeguards against annihilation at the Enemy's hands.

The dwarves had taken care to make the tunnels safe and true, and he no longer felt that the mountain in which they were cut was malevolent. Instead he sensed the remnant presence of the stout and sturdy miners at their work, completely at home beneath the overwhelming immensity of the granitic core of the fortress, and the ease with which the dwarves negotiated the labyrinth bolstered Legolas' faith in his own ability to do likewise.

With renewed determination to reach his goal and a resurgence of his strong desire to behold the newborn prince, the Tawarwaith resumed his taxing climb with unflagging diligence.

Tbc