Chapter 6

Disclaimer Pg-13 for violence and I think this chapter is kind of scary.—I don’t own anything in this except my own characters—plus actually I don’t own them, they own me. Meh.

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Return to Me, Chapter 6

"What was that ?" Galenparth demanded, his voice shaking with fear.

The horrid smell was back, choking us all with its intensity. Whatever this evil was, it was getting closer.

As if I was not already frightened enough, Fânwen’s eyes suddenly went as wide as saucers and her breath caught in her throat. Whatever it was, she had seen it. She quickly turned and shoved me as hard as she could, knocking me backward into a totally unprepared Legolas. She would have knocked us both down if Gloriavas had not sidestepped suddenly and caught us both.

"Go!" she screamed, which frightened me to no end because I had never heard her raise her voice before. "Into the trees! Now!"

Without hesitation Galenparth, Gloriavas, and Lalaithion made for the nearest tree, a huge monster that towered at least fifty feet above the ground. Legolas and I would have gone, as well, had Fânwen not begun to run in the opposite direction. We went after her.

"Fânwen!" I shouted. "Where are you going? Do you know what is it?"

All contempt she had for us was gone, replaced by adamant concern. "What are you doing?" she shouted back. "Your majesties must get to the trees! Faroth-yes met !"

"Who hunts us?" I demanded, but even as I spoke another ear-shattering scream resounded through the clearing and I knew.

I knew because Legolas knew. I had never encountered them, but of course I knew of them because of stories I had been told as a child. These were the kind of stories children tell to try and frighten each other, the kind one does not really believe until one sees it for oneself. Legolas, however, had seen them before on hunting trips in which I was not involved, trips near Dol Guldur, though he would not speak of them because they frightened him more than anything in the world. For Legolas to be frightened I knew something utterly terrible and evil had to be involved.

I felt my husband’s fear, his sheer and utter terror at the sound of that scream. He was so afraid that he could not even say the name out loud; he could only dredge it up from the pure horror it evoked within his heart. Shock and fear overwhelmed me; from the tips of my ears down to my toes I became freezing cold. I knew what it was before the thought even completed itself in his mind: Nazgûl.

"Please," Fânwen said in a lower voice. "Please Prince Legolas, take Sorayaiel and go into the trees. You will be safe there. I must retrieve Menellion."

Pure fear crossed my husband’s face. He stepped forward past me and grabbed her arm, wrenching her bow out of her hand. "There is not time. You must come with us."

She tried to shake him off but he gripped her hard and would not let go. "Please! I must find my husband!"

"I will not let you run to your death! You are coming with us!" Legolas screamed at her. He grabbed her forcibly around the waist with both hands and dragged her back the other way. He handed both her bow and his to me and shouted, "Go, Sorayaiel!"

I needed no other prompt. I turned and ran as quickly as I could, pausing momentarily to look behind me to make sure that he was following. He had wrapped his arms around Fânwen and hoisted her over his shoulder so he could run full speed. She was screaming all number of Sindarin obscenities at him, some of which I had never even heard before.

An enormous shadow passed overhead. What I saw when I looked up scared me so badly that I almost stopped running, and probably would have if Galenparth and Lalaithion had not started shouting my name from the tree in which they were situated. It was one of the Nazgûl, a ringwraith, a foul servant of Sauron who among other things had re-inhabited the tower at Dol Guldur and helped bring the darkness into Greenwood. It was a massive figure, clothed entirely in black robes so that I thankfully could not see its eyes. It did not have a face in the usual way that one thinks of faces, or so Legolas had told me after he had encountered the foul demons before, but it did possess eyes of molten flame so terrifying as to cause grown elven warriors to shake in their boots.

It was riding on some sort of fell beast, an enormous black creature that looked like a cross between a dragon and a very ugly bird, that radiated evil in waves off its back. It was this creature, I suspected in that fleeting moment, which was causing the nausea-inducing stench.

It was covered in black grime and dripped drool from its massive fangs. The creature’s eyes were enormous black orbs, searching the emerging light below for innocent elves to slaughter.

All this I saw in the fleeting instant it took for me to make it to the giant tree. I scrambled up into the thick leaves to join the others, looking down instantly to make sure my husband was still behind me. If he was not, I would be back down in an instant to help him, regardless of the danger.

He was there, still holding onto Fânwen with one strong arm, and climbing with the other. When he made it closer to where the rest of us were hiding he handed a now-limp Fânwen up to Gloriavas, who took her without a word, and hoisted himself up into the branches with us. He put a finger to his lips, as if we needed to be told to be quiet. I handed his bow back to him and he quickly notched an arrow to the string. Galenparth took Fânwen’s bow and reached around Gloriavas to retrieve some arrows from her quiver.

The wraith screamed again, eliciting a stifled sob from Fânwen, who had buried her face in Gloriavas’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair, silently comforting her. All my feelings of ill-will toward her had gone. My heart ached for her. Menellion and the others were probably hiding as we were, but I knew she was terrified she would never see him again. Almost involuntarily I glanced over at Legolas, who I knew was thinking the same thing.

He did not change his stance of pointing his arrow toward the sky, but looked at me somberly. Our eyes met in silent understanding; despite my overwhelming fear my heart filled with love for him, and hope as well. I knew that as long as he was there, as long as he was alive, he would not let anything happen to any of us. He would give his life for any one of us, as long as it meant that we would be saved. I just hoped it would not come to that.

"I love you, Celebithil ," he thought. It was almost a whisper but it touched every part of me, and for the first time since the sudden darkness had crept into the woods that morning, I felt as if perhaps we would get through this.

"I love, you, galad-o orë nîn ," I thought back.

The wraith flew closer and bellowed its unearthly scream again, followed by a chuffing roar from its black beast. It flew so close to the tree that the smell choked up my lungs and almost made me gag. I looked at the others who were fighting not to become sick as well. Even the tree was screaming at the rancid stench.

The wraith was so close that it seemed as if it would surely see us, and probably would have, had we not been wood-elves. Wood-elves, especially Mirkwood elves, were practically raised in the trees. We spoke to them, knew them so intimately that they were almost a part of us. When a wood-elf hid in the trees, nothing could spot them, except perhaps another wood-elf.

The wraith circled around several more times, then slowly flew out of sight and over the horizon. Gradually the smell went away, the birds resumed chirping, and the forest returned to normal. Six wide-eyed and shell-shocked elves breathed mutual sighs of relief. Slowly we made our way out of the tree. Gloriavas stopped at the bottom of the tree and placed his right hand over his heart and bowed at our large friend.

" Hannon-le, mellon nîn ," he said softly. "Thank you for protecting us." The tree sang in reply.

"And thank the Valar as well," Galenparth said. "Prince Legolas?"

"Yes?"

"Forgive me for asking," Galenparth continued hesitantly, concern in his blue eyes. "But why did you not take a shot at the creature when you had the chance?"

My husband glanced at the other blonde elf. "I was more concerned with getting Fânwen and Sorayaiel out of harm’s way. If someone else had had a bow, they could have taken a shot at the creature."

Galenparth, Lalaithion, Gloriavas, and I all flinched. It was seldom that Legolas reprimanded anyone; if he did it involved something of the utmost importance. We all looked away, eyes downcast. My eyes filled with tears and my face burned with shame. I knew the other warriors felt as stupidly as I did.

Legolas stopped and placed on arm on Galenparth’s shoulders. "However," he began. "You all behaved very bravely and I do not slight you for that. You followed my lead and did not question or hesitate about anything I said. I am not angry with any of you, in fact, I am proud and grateful to all of you."

Everyone smiled and relief washed over us all. "However," my husband continued, as he reached over and wiped a tear from my cheek, "From now on, no one goes anywhere without a weapon. Do you all understand?" He cupped my chin in his hand and looked directly into my eyes as he said this.

"Yes, your majesty," everyone muttered.

I said nothing, but stared up into Legolas’s face as he stared down into mine. He said nothing else to me for a moment, then suddenly and wordlessly pulled me into a tight embrace, right in front of everyone. He wrapped his arms around me as I buried my face in his chest and linked my arms around his back to let him hold me for several long minutes.

"Come," he whispered at length. "I am sure Nurhoth and the others are out of their minds." Our party began walking back toward the camp to find the captain and the others.

I looked over at Fânwen who was wiping tears out of her eyes. "My Lady," I said quietly. "Are Menellion and the others all right?"

"Yes," she said slowly, not meeting my eyes. "They are looking for us right now."

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. "I am fine." She still would not look me in the face.

I stepped away from Legolas to walk at her side. I reached down and took her hand in my own; to my surprise she let me. The males saw this as some kind of subtle hint and slowed down to allow us to talk privately as we walked.

"I am sorry, Lady Fânwen," I said. "I am sorry if I have ever done anything to offend you, I did not mean to. I. . .I respect you very much and I do not want any bad blood between us."

For a moment, she said nothing. "It is my fault, Princess. I was very insolent toward you and the Prince, I hope you can forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," I said truthfully. I suspected that our encounter with the Nazgûl had done something to change Fânwen, something profound. As it was I had never seen her cry before; I had never seen this much emotion coming from her at all. I would not hold grudges or be angry about something so petty, especially after our lives had just been threatened.

She wiped another tear from her eye with the free hand that was not holding mine. "Look at me," she whispered. "I am falling apart."

"You are surely not," I answered. "Fânwen, it is not a crime to show emotion, especially right now. I believe everyone here cares about you, I know I do and certainly your husband does. You should feel free to express your emotion to us, whether it be fear or sadness or mirth. We are not going to judge you or treat you unkindly just because you have feelings."

She shook her head. "You do not understand, your majesty. I promised myself I would. . .Nevermind."

"What is it?" I asked, my brow furrowed.

She hesitated, then looked at me. Her large brown eyes were rimmed with salty tears; her beautiful face a rigid mask of utter sorrow. She looked down. "I promised myself I would never let this happen again. . . I promised you, Princess."

"What are you talking about?"

"Fear," she whispered. "I’m talking about fear. I had seen the Nazgûl before, nearly three thousand years ago. It was a night I never wanted to recall ever again. Because of my fear, several warriors died. Your mother and father died."

I stopped in my path and simply stared at her. I had no idea what she was talking about.

"I could not do what your husband did this morning. I was two hundred years old. We were near Dol Guldôr; your mother was already hurt. Your father asked me to get her to safety. The ringwraith attacked us, and I panicked. . .I was so frightened! Instead of getting Pellalómë to safety I stopped and fired at the beast and missed. Your father stepped in to aid me, and took the brunt of the attack that was meant for me."

I stared at her, vaguely aware that Legolas and the others had stopped behind us at the sound of Nurhoth’s shout from across the clearing. I could not speak.

She was uneasy at my silence and continued pouring forth her story. "From then on I promised myself, and I promised you, though I had never even spoken to you, the tiny elfling, that I would never let my emotions—my fear—get in the way of anything ever again. Not in fighting, not in anything in my life. And I have held to that, for almost three thousand years, until today. Until I saw that. . . that. . . vile creature again!"

She sobbed anew. For a moment I was stunned, and knew not how to react. Why had no one ever told me this? I searched my husband’s brain; he had not known either. All this time, I had thought Fânwen hated me, when it was herself she had hated. My heart was overwhelmed with pity and even love for this woman.

"Fânwen," I said, taking her into my embrace. "Do not blame yourself. The Valar did not believe that was your time to leave this world. It was my parents’ time, and there was nothing you could do about it. What was done, was done. I do not blame you for anything."

"You do not?" she asked, tears tracking down her cheeks.

"No," I said truthfully. "I only ask one thing of you now."

"What is it, my princess?"

"That you stop," I replied. "Stop shielding yourself from everyone. Be yourself. Live as you were meant to be. . .my friend."

She looked at me and smiled through her tears. "I think that I can do that."

"Good," I replied, smiling, as we embraced again. "Now, let us find your husband."

We found Nurhoth, Tasarë, and an extremely relieved Menellion who embraced and kissed his wife for many long minutes in front of everyone, and she let him. After we had recovered ourselves a bit, we located the horses and packed up to leave.

Just as Lady Fânwen was mounting her horse, Lalaithion walked up to her and offered her an apple. "For the Lady," he said, with an elaborate bow. He smirked slightly, but I could see the apprehension on his face.

Fânwen stopped in front of him and took the fruit, a very stern and almost nasty look on her face. I made as if to intervene and Legolas put out a hand to stop me. Fânwen opened up the apple and peered inside, only to have a sleepy little worm reach its head out and blink at her.

I winced, but to the delight of all, Fânwen laughed, a boisterous, musical sound that permeated throughout the camp. Everyone turned at the sound, as none of us had ever heard it before. It was beautiful, almost magical in its tenor, and made all of us smile. She slugged him with the fruit, which made all of us laugh as well.

"Very funny," she said good-naturedly. "Now I suggest you get on your horse before that poor worm comes looking for you for disturbing his slumber!"

"Yes, my Lady," Lalaithion said, giving another elaborate bow.

"And for Ilúvatar’s sake," Fânwen said, with a wide grin, "Do something with your hair, Lalaithion!"

Everyone laughed loudly. We finished packing and headed off, just as the sun fully arose in the sky. We had no more problems that day.

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1. " Faroth-yes met !"—"It hunts us!" —"Silver-moon"
2. Celebithil
3. " galad-o orë nîn "—"light of my heart"
4. " Hannon-le, mellon nîn "—"Thank you, my friend"

I hope the canon-police don’t come after me for having the Nazgûl here. I’ll label this AU just in case. I know they were in Dol Guldur for a long time, even after the Necromancer was discovered to be Sauron, so I would assume that some of the Mirkwood elves would have had experiences with them. I have messed with time a little bit, but I hope not too much. I have gone with Orlando Bloom’s estimate of Legolas’s age to be 2, 931 years old, though I do not know where he got that number. Therefore Sorayaiel is 4 years younger than he, at 2,927 years old. Fânwen is approximately two hundred years older than Sorayaiel so therefore it is possible for her to be there when Dûrborion and Pellalómë died.

I also realize that the Nazgûl were terrorizing the hobbits for part of this time, but we can estimate that this was a little before the incidents in Bree and the drowning at the Ford of Brunien. If this part of the story is totally off-canon or totally unbelievable I will try to change it in the final draft but right now I really like this how it is. Everyone please let me know.