"In any event, what tidings were you so eager to deliver?" Thranduil broke the silence which had engulfed both the chamber and Legolas's mind.
Legolas barely managed to collect his thoughts and focus on Thranduil's question after being so distraught over what he heard just minutes ago. "I'm afraid they are of rather gory nature."
The Prince's response awoke every fibre of Thranduil's body that had yet not been awakened. "Which makes me even more insistent to hear what this is all about."
"Yesterday morning my fellow guardsmen and myself went for a regular patrol around the centre of Mirkwood when we stumbled upon a gruesome discovery of which the Council has already been informed. In addition, this morning we have received a report from one of the maidens who was on duty in the healing chambers who claims to have a patient missing," the Prince explained hesitantly. The last thing he would wish to happen right now was to disturb father's hardly conquered vitality with unsolicited news.
"I can't see how an apparently delusional patient who has gone wandering about the palace could mean any harm to us?" Thranduil doubted. "An unnecessary and most unwanted inconvenience, that much is certain, but a threat?"
"That is the same thing I asked the maiden, only then she explained to me that was the exact thing that bothered her," the Prince hurried. "She received explicit details of the patient's current state which said he was admitted to the chambers almost a year ago with a severe injury to his spine. He was to remain a cripple all his life."
"Are we familiar with the patient's background, by any chance?"
"Supposedly, he was a vagabond who had received severe wounds from a regional battle that he had attended further at the North when he was entrusted to the healers during last winter. His name is Blydd Falastur. We've already sent a raven to Dale, his alleged origin, to determine his true identity."
"What was the purpose of him staying with us for as long as he had?" Thranduil wished to know. "Why hasn't his true identity been verified at the time of his arrival?"
"The healers' reports suggested he'd endured irreversible damage to his spinal cord, therefore he would never be able to stand again. Naturally, he was asked if there was anyone he would wish to notify of his state to which he replied there was none. He expressed the request of spending the rest of his numbered days here, within the secured walls of the palace," Legolas explained to the baffled King.
"And the healers decided to concede the request without consulting any officials, let alone me, who could offer an impartial perspective on the matter, ultimately deliberately neglecting the law?" Thranduil continued to wonder.
"Father, I am sure-"
"Do not attempt to defend their actions, Legolas," Thranduil rapidly cut him off. "The law provides clear instructions in relation to welcoming foreigners into our lands, let alone allow them to stay for as long as they please. The results of such careless act could be devastating."
"I am merely saying that-"
"I've stated my mind," the King repeated his previous insolent gesture. "If there is nothing else you'd wish to add on the matter, I suggest we inform the Council to hasten their search. Also, before any actions are taken, I would first wish to speak with the maid myself. I expect the issue to be resolved quickly and elegantly."
"Unfortunately," Legolas yielded to the King's will, consciously ignoring his father's harsh words, to proceed with new information that needed to be passed on to him, "there is more."
"Why, continue," the King insisted.
"Our reportedly missing patient has not vanished without leaving a trace behind," Legolas added. "At first the maid did not notice anything unusual about her morning routine, however she did say she was appointed the task only that morning, until she arrived at the patient's bed."
"Which was empty, that much I've managed to assemble, thank you," Thranduil interrupted, growing rather impatient.
"That's the thing, father," he said dramatically. "It was not empty. Instead, the maid found yet another incinerated body. The main healer who arrived at the scene shortly after, failed to identify the victim, but he assured us it was not the patient, hence the maid's report. I am deeply sorry."
As Thranduil continued to absorb one shocking information after another, his breathing function slowly began to lessen in its effect. During Legolas's last sentence, his breathing pattern was barely noticeable. The weight of the tidings his son had brought to him crushed his lungs into nothing more than a tiny speck remaining in his chest. His head was spinning from lack of oxygen delivered to his brain that was now filled with meaningless words. The only thought that had prevailed in his mind was asking for purpose of all this. What sort of crime had he committed that was so precarious, so reckless and senseless that the Gods had decided to punish him with such cruel come-uppance? And was he ever going to find that out?
"Do not apologize, Legolas," he was finally able to speak after initial shock had settled down, "you were merely doing your job. This is most unfortunate news indeed. Who else has knowledge of this?"
"Only the First Sage, myself, and now you. I have made sure the word does not spread beyond the walls of the Council."
"And for that I am grateful. I would ask you to maintain the discretion until we've properly discussed the matter with the rest of the members. I would need to speak with the healer, as well," he said tiredly, before redirecting his look back at the Prince. "And the first news you intended to break to me?"
"There has come to another incident. In the woods, near the spring of the Enchanted River," Legolas obeyed his father's order. "As we were nearing the mountains guiding us to the spring, one of the guardsmen noticed a presumably whirling smoke of what we later discerned happened to be an arson. We immediately changed the course towards the source of the smoke. In a matter of minutes we found its origin. It was indeed an intentionally caused arson that was able to destroy everything within a radius of few kilometres." As Legolas dramatically disclosed the news, he observed the King if the said had afflicted him with any kind of discomfort or hardship. But not much to his surprise, Thranduil seemed all but in a state of discomfort. If anything, he even showed signs of abhorrence towards hearing the evil had not ceased with its unacceptable method of displaying its superiority.
Out of nowhere, Thranduil began to feel inexplicable wrath rising within him. His chest suddenly lifted from the blanket in which he was resting, the tired bones of his fragile body regaining the lost strength. Unsurprisingly, his mind was filled with thoughts of revenge; a bloody revenge that would ruin this inexorable force of evil. However, Thranduil was yet to show how inexorable he was prepared to be when it came to defending his land. And in pursuit of this goal he was prepared to use any means necessary.
"Father, are you alright?" the King heard his son speak. His blank look met Legolas's eyes which reminded him of his current position.
"Perfectly all right," was his reply.
"I'm saddened to report there is more to the news." Legolas was almost afraid to continue but his conscience dictated him to act accordingly to his duty. It is what father would want anyway. "When we arrived at the scene of where the ignition took place, we found one of our own maethyr hanged on a single tree in the middle of a circle of birches, bearing an inscription which read as follows 'Epholao o lín úgerth, o baudh tolath'. It is believed both crimes were carried out by the same culprit, including the incident in the healing chambers. What sort of deranged being would execute such acts?" (Beware of your sins, your judgement is coming)
Falling speechless after hearing the terrible addition to the dreadful news, Thranduil hardly pulled himself together to return to cruel reality. "One we have to stop as soon as possible." Thranduil sighed as fully concentrated on the news he'd just been delivered. "Take me there first thing tomorrow," he asserted. "I ought to examine the area myself before we devise what our next move from here shall be."
"Wise idea, father, although I doubt the healers would agree with your proposal," Legolas stressed.
"I doubt you would state the same for the Council," the Prince outwitted him. "They tend to heed the healers' advice, in case you wouldn't."
"I am not under any obligation to ask for permission nor approval from anyone, especially not the Council, and you know that just as well as I do," Thranduil hissed, tired of hearing the same reproach over and over again. "If we are to bring this evildoer to justice, we must always be two steps ahead of him. There is no time to play by the rules for he sure does not."
"By all means, I am entirely on your side, father. It is simply the question of how you are going to convince the Council of the sudden turn of your condition that worries me."
"Leave the Council to me," Thranduil confidently assured him. "The Council is the last thing you should be worrying about. I'd sooner you gather the group of guardsmen you went on the patrol yesterday morning to escort me to the scene first thing tomorrow. And Legolas," he suddenly changed the tone of his voice. "I trust you to stay discreet in this matter."
"Of course, father," Legolas ensured him and began to stand from Thranduil's bed.
The Prince was just about to ascend the stairs leading towards the exit of Thranduil's chamber, when he froze in place for no particular reason. In fact, that was not entirely correct. Perhaps there was a reason to his sudden halt, but he was not aware of its meaning or purpose. It was as if something had ordered him to stop his movements for that aforesaid something might have given him a reason to believe this conversation could not had been fully concluded. Or could it?
"Why have you suddenly changed your mind about mother?" he spoke as he turned around unpredictably, still lingering on the stairs, halfway towards the exit.
"What made you think that?" Thranduil scoffed apprehensively.
Legolas let out a sarcastic chuckle, declaring the obvious, "The way you speak about her." The Prince let his eyes wander around the surface of the chamber's floor. "As if you've truly decided to let her go."
Thranduil began to open his mouth to spit a response that would dispirit his son enough to avoid continuing this agonising conversation, but the words escaped through his lips without having the courage and strength to utter them. He simply blindly and vacuously stared ahead, coming to terms with himself and with the fact that his son might have been, in the end, right. And it frightened him, to say the least. Undoubtedly, many years had gone by since she ceased accompanying him through his journey as a monarch. However, in a dark corner within his endless mind – she still existed. There she'd kept track of his deeds, whispered words of encouragement, guided him through his decisions, and occupied his thoughts during the murky hours of the night. She had given him a sense of presence that could not be so easily dismissed, regardless of her physical disappearance. She would keep reminding him that there he could still count on her profound wisdom, selfless aid, and endless love, the things she'd provided him all those years when they reigned happily, without a care in the world. Without a single thought indicating a tragedy such as the one that had afflicted the family could ever occur.
Reminiscing the words she had told him during his blackout, it only now came to him that they might carry a message of their own as well. It was only a matter of interpretation that would reveal their true meaning. Although Thranduil feared he already knew their meaning without having to analyse them in detail. This, too, frightened the living soul out of him. Could it be that what she was saying was in fact announcing her final departure? Could it be she was asking him to let her go?
In order to answer Legolas's questions he would first have to deal with those gnawing at his soul to which he was not possibly able to answer. In order to provide Legolas with an adequate response, he would first have to sink into Itheliel words deep enough to let himself discover the hidden message within. Thranduil was certain he would reach that point of courage somewhere in the near future; he had to or else it was assured he would lose sleep over it at night. It was now a matter of wanting to solve this conundrum behind her message and wanting to finally allow her to find eternal peace whatever the location she was currently confined to.
"I shall always carry your mother in my heart. Parting from her afflicted me with a scar that would never heal unless I heal what is damaged within me." The King looked up to meet his son's gaze. "It is time to exterminate the poison out of the wound. And to heal a wound, one needs to stop touching it."
Thranduil knew such reply would be a lot for Legolas to take in. Being exposed to such talk of his departed mother meant enormous emotional exertion and pressure. Speaking of lost ones was naturally a delicate, sensitive subject, bound to evoke a series of both pleasant and painful recollections. Despite knowing this conversation could take a whole other turn, Legolas was certain this was necessary in order to revive father's old character. Even if it meant slitting a wound wide open with the aim of finishing its final stage of healing process.
"I see," the Prince uttered.
"I do not expect you to understand the background of my decisions, yet I will gladly accept any support you are willing to offer me."
"My support is always at your disposal, as you know," the Prince hurried. "Though I cannot claim I am not surprised to hear about your new views on… how she bade her farewell."
"Her sudden departure was a great loss for the entire kingdom, even more so for our hearts. An irreplaceable loss that shall never be forgotten. Nevertheless, I must stop it from devastating it any further. It is my duty as a King that I should prevent such event from occurring. And trust me, doing that with a wounded heart would not make it any easier." His words were cold, yet his voice soft and calm. "In order to heal my wounded heart and therefore heal my wounded kingdom, I am determined to achieve anything to secure that peace."
As Legolas let his father's words sink in, he came to realise there was nothing but mere respect left for him to give to his father. Despite the truth dominating in the composed sentences was hard for him to accept, he was aware that father hadn't spoken so much sense in an alarmingly long time, so it was both invigorating and reassuring to see his father regaining the strength he'd lost during uncountable years of ruinous solitude, prolonged lamentation, and obduracy that had been a part of his daily routine for so long it had grown to become an unsolicited part of his character. In all the chaos Legolas had already lived through alongside his father, there were rare moments where he would find himself consciously agreeing to whatever madness the King would propose. For the first time in all those years Legolas actually saw purpose and benefit in his suggestion. The Prince was left with no option but approvingly welcome the change that had settled in Thranduil's mind.
The Prince slightly bowed in respect of his father's reasonable decisions to indicate he had finally come to terms with his standpoint. After all, being able to find peace and faith within him was something Legolas had long waited and hoped for, and any objections would now be unavailing and misplaced.
"Arrange me a meeting with the Council and the witnesses as soon as possible, would you?" Thranduil requested merely seconds before Legolas would finally exit the chamber. "This matter is currently our paramount priority."
"Certainly, father," Legolas replied, adding "now at least try to rest for a little while longer. I'm sure the Council would be thrilled to see their renewed king with fully restored strength."
"I am thankful for the worry, whereupon I advise you to do the same," Thranduil returned the gesture in a lively mood, then changed the tone of his voice to an entirely different shade. "A storm is coming. One we all ought to be prepared for. The Kingdom is about to face drastic changes in its core, and it is upon us that we deliver it safely and with as little damage as possible."
Legolas merely nodded in reply then made himself scarce to let his father find the promised rest. However, as the sound of his footsteps became more distant with each step, Thranduil sunk deeper and deeper in the whirlpool of his
thoughts and ideas. The received news awoke a wrath so immense and vast it was evident he would find no rest within his soul until he searched every last bit of this woeful Earth to punish whoever had the audacity to inflict such unforgivable suffering upon his people. Thranduil seldom made a promise for which he estimated would not entirely benefit him. But whenever there was forthright threat directed at his people, no special effort was needed in order to persuade him to accept certain decisions. He made a decision a long time ago. He had given his word to his people long before there even was a threat upon which a measure had to be taken. A promise of safety and retaliation, a promise he intended to keep. Now, the time of need had come. And he was more than willing to fulfil that pledge.
- next evening -
He didn't even know where he was and what he was doing, what happened and that he was actually carried.
Naril had given everything he could and in his opinion failed all too miserably. The fact that he was a lean elf was very prominent and that his kind simply wasn't supposed to train like this by their natural body build. This didn't mean it cannot be changed but he might need a little more time and patience.
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