Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

Tangled Web  by daw the minstrel

I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien, but they are his, not mine. I gain only the enriched imaginative life that I assume he intended me to gain.

Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter.

AN: Some of the dialogue between Thranduil and the Dwarves in this chapter is taken from Chapter IX of The Hobbit, “Barrels out of Bond.”

*******

8.  Taking Prisoners

Legolas followed Annael wearily into the Home Guard headquarters, where the day patrols were all waiting to report in and those on duty that night waited for their assignments.  He had spent the day chasing spiders and was not yet certain they had all been eradicated from the area around Thranduil’s stronghold.  There had been no time at all to find out if the king wanted them to seize the other Dwarves.  Indeed, the night patrols would have to continue looking for spiders.  He sent them out first before turning to hear what the day patrols had to tell him.

Their reports turned out to be more encouraging than he had hoped.  So far, the colony that he and his companions had found seemed to be the only one, although, given its size, it was bad enough all by itself.  He dismissed each patrol as it finished its report, and at last, only Amdir and the two warriors who had gone with him remained to be heard from.  Amdir was all but vibrating in his impatience to speak about their encounter with the Dwarves’ leader.

“What happened?” Legolas obliged him by asking.  He had to admit he was curious about what the Dwarf might have told Thranduil, even though the thought of their encounter made him flinch a little.  Putting it mildly, his father had not been in a good mood when Legolas last saw him.

“Would you believe it?  The Nogoth was still out cold when we went to fetch him,” Amdir said excitedly.  “So we had to carry him all the way to the Great Hall, and he was heavy too, I can tell you.”  His two companions nodded wordlessly.  Amdir’s eyes widened a little at the memory of what had happened next.  “He woke up as soon as we got there.  Your adar was as angry as I have ever seen him,” he said with awe in his voice.

“What did the Dwarf tell the king?” Legolas did not ordinarily refer to Thranduil as his father when he was on duty, and he did not encourage others to do so either.

“Nothing,” said Amdir flatly.  Legolas blinked. The Dwarf had defied Thranduil?  “He refused to give his name,” Amdir continued, “or say why he and the rest were in the forest, or tell where the others were now.  He just kept pretending that they had all been starving and that was why they invaded the feast.” His disbelief was patent, but Legolas felt a sudden qualm.

Could the Dwarves have been starving?  He ran his mind over what the patrols had told him during the time they had been watching the intruders.  The Dwarves had never left the path, which meant they had done no hunting.  He had assumed they carried Dwarf-food in their pack, some sort of waybread probably, but what if his assumption had been wrong?  The Dwarves had looked stout to him, much stouter than Elves, but how did they look compared to other Dwarves he had seen?  He found he was not sure.

“What did the king do?” he asked, bracing himself for an answer he probably would not like.  Thranduil would have been most displeased by being defied by a Dwarf.

“He ordered us to lock the digger in one of the cells,” Amdir sniffed.  “And quite right too.”

Legolas grimaced.  He supposed Thranduil had every right to be suspicious of the Dwarves if their leader refused to explain their presence, and, of course, it was the king’s obligation to protect his people. But Legolas could not shake the idea that the Dwarves really might have been hungry.

“Very well,” he said. “You are dismissed until tomorrow then.” Amdir saluted and left, and Legolas too started for home.

He took the path that led through the palace gardens, which were pleasant in the early evening of late summer. The roses were in full bloom, and their odor always reminded him vaguely of his mother.  Indeed in one of his few clear memories of her, she was pruning the roses here. The sound of firm footsteps on a gravel path caught his attention, and he turned to see his father approaching on the path that led from the stables.

“Good evening, Adar,” he said a little cautiously.  He had not set eyes on Thranduil since that morning’s scene in the Great Hall, and his father’s fury was fresh in his mind.  At home, his father and brothers had always tried to put their roles as king and warriors aside in favor of those as father, sons, and brothers.  From having served with Eilian as his captain and Ithilden as his troop commander, however, Legolas knew that it could be difficult to let go of any tensions that might have flared up between them during the day.

Legolas had never served in the Home Guard at all before, much less as one of its officers, so he had no experience in balancing that kind of role with his father, but he had seen Ithilden do something similar often enough.  Sometimes Legolas wondered how his oldest brother managed so confidently with their father looking over his shoulder so much of the time, but Ithilden usually seemed able to let Thranduil’s criticism roll off his back, and what was even more surprising, Thranduil usually did not seem to mind when he did it.

“Good evening,” Thranduil responded, with his eyes on the tops of the trees that showed over the garden wall.

“Did you have a pleasant ride?” Legolas asked, still feeling awkward.  His father often rode in the late afternoon, enjoying the exercise and trying to work out some of the frustrations that built in an active male who was forced to sit and listen to people talk for much of the day.

Something in his tone must have attracted Thranduil’s attention, because he turned to look sharply at Legolas.  His face seemed to soften slightly, and he smiled faintly.  “I assume that nothing disastrous has occurred,” he finally said, “and that Todith will tell me in the morning what happened with the spiders today.”

“Yes, Adar.” Legolas hesitated.  He did not want to disturb their fragile peace, but he was still uncertain that the Home Guard warriors had found all the spiders and was worried that any stragglers might be more active and harder to spot once night fell. “Still, I think it would be wise to warn people to take precautions tonight and perhaps even to close the Great Doors.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow.  His stronghold’s doors were well guarded, but they usually stood open.  They worked by some device that Legolas did not understand, and only Thranduil and Ithilden could open and close them, so to some extent, having them closed at night was a nuisance.  Guards, messengers, and everyone who lived in the stronghold had to be on the right side of the doors before the king sealed them for the night, because letting anyone in or out after that would mean waking the king, given that Ithilden was not home.

“If you think that would be wise, then we will do it,” said Thranduil calmly, and Legolas felt a pleased smile forming on his lips.  His father had apparently cooled down considerably during the course of the day.  Before Legolas could say anything, however, Thranduil turned back to look at the trees.  “Do you feel anything different in the forest?” he asked.

Legolas blinked and turned to look at the trees too.   Their leaves were stirring in the evening breeze, and he listened to them more carefully than he had had time to do all day.  He frowned.  Now that Thranduil mentioned it, there did seem to be a faint shift in the forest’s song.  “They sound …” he groped for the right word, “confused?”  He looked at Thranduil, who was still regarding the trees.

“Yes,” his father murmured, “they do.” For a moment longer, they stood in the garden, trying to sort out what might be happening. Finally Thranduil sighed.  “Whatever it is, we will learn soon enough.” He set off with his long stride to lead the way toward the palace.

Their evening meal was pleasant enough, but when Legolas entered the dining chamber the next morning, Thranduil was not there.  “He left early to spend the day in the woods,” Alfirin told him, as she dished up the porridge.  “I thought that was a good idea. This whole business with the Dwarves and the spiders seems to have put him on edge. The forest will soothe him.”

Legolas was not so sure.  Indeed, he thought that the faint change in the forest’s song might be part of what was disturbing his father. Thranduil hated uncertainty, and Legolas thought his father was worried that it might be more than news of the Dwarves and the spiders that was rippling through the trees’ music.

He went out through the Great Doors that stood open in the sunshine of the late summer morning and walked toward the Home Guard headquarters to hear what had occurred during the night.  He found Todith waiting for him before he went off to start his own day’s work in Ithilden’s office.  The captain had already taken the patrols’ reports.  “Three of the patrols met single spiders or small groups,” Todith told him soberly, “so you need to keep hunting for them.  And Legolas, be sure to send one of the patrols to search the area close to the palace.  A lone spider was found not a hundred yards from the green.”

Legolas felt a momentary chill.  So close to the palace, the spider would have been among the cottages in which Thranduil’s people lived.  Thank the Valar he had advised his father to warn people to be careful.  For a worried moment, he contemplated the thought of his father spending the day in the woods.  His guards will be with him, he reminded himself.  In truth, unrealistic though he knew he was being, he could not imagine a spider being daring enough to approach his father in any case.

“I will see to it,” he promised Todith and set about doing his day’s work with as much skill as he could muster.  He, Beliond, and Annael found two spiders in the morning but no others after that, and Legolas began to hope that they might have cleaned out the survivors of this particular colony.  They returned to headquarters in the late afternoon to find that the other patrols had had similar experiences.  Legolas was in the process of dismissing his warriors when one of Thranduil’s messengers arrived.

“The king wishes to speak with you, my lord,” the messenger told him.

Legolas grimaced.  He had been expecting Thranduil to order the seizure of the remaining Dwarves today and was willing to wager that that would be what his father wanted to talk to him about.  Legolas had secretly been hoping that Thranduil would make up his mind soon to bring in the Dwarves.  He kept thinking about their leader’s claim that they had been starving, and he was worried about Hobbit. “You had better wait,” he told Beliond and Annael, as well as Sinnarn, Nithron, and Amdir, who had just come in.  Amdir groaned, but the others took the lengthening of their day with the philosophical resignation of experienced warriors and sat down to rest while they had the chance.

Although the afternoon was drawing to a close, Legolas found his father in the Great Hall, probably dealing with business that he had put off in order to spend time among the trees.  Legolas dropped to one knee and then, at Thranduil’s signal, rose and advanced.  “Are the spiders still troubling my woods?” Thranduil asked without preamble.  Legolas could only assume that his father was still trying to ascertain what might be going on in the forest.

“The Home Guard found a few this morning, my lord, but I believe we have now killed them all. We will keep watch, of course.”

Thranduil nodded.  “Good.”  He pursed his lips.  “The Dwarven leader is being less that helpful,” he said.  “Take some of your warriors and go get the others, but do not tell them we have their leader here.  They may be more willing to speak if they think they are on their own.  I want them brought in quickly.  I am still uncertain about what might be causing the change in the woods, and I would hear what these Naugrim might have to tell me. Blindfold them so they will not learn how to get to the stronghold.”  He waved his hand in dismissal, and Legolas saluted and withdrew.

He found Sinnarn and Amdir tossing small coins against the wall and seeing who could get his to land closer.  Annael and the two keepers sat leaning against the wall and sipping cider.  They all turned when Legolas entered. “We have to go and round up the other Dwarves,” he told them. “We had better take torches, I think. It will be dark soon.”  The Elves would not need the torches to find the Dwarves, but Legolas wanted to be sure his warriors saw anything there was to find when they searched them.

Amdir scooped up the coins from the floor, having apparently won the game, and the six of them gathered their bows and picked up torches.  Legolas did not think it would take them long to accomplish their task. They knew approximately where the Dwarves were because the day patrols had taken note of them whenever they saw them. They were wandering between the feast site and the Elf path, although whether they were lost or searching for their leader, Legolas could not determine from the looping route they were following.

In the treetops, the air was still dusky when they found the Dwarves, and the sky had yet to blacken into night, but darkness had already crept in under the branches.  For a moment, Legolas contemplated their quarry, and as he watched, one of the Dwarves stumbled, seemingly from no other cause than his own weariness.  The child was scuffling along with his feet dragging. Legolas felt an unexpected spurt of pity.  These people would be better off as Thranduil’s prisoners than they were now.

He sounded a low-pitched signal, and the six Elves dropped to the ground, bows in hand.  The Dwarves froze, and even in the dark, Legolas could see their eyes widen. “Nobody move,” he ordered.  He gestured to Annael and Amdir, and they both shouldered their bows and lit torches, which they thrust into the ground.  As the torches flamed into life, the Dwarves’ faces wavered into sight, pale above their beards.

The Dwarf nearest to Legolas raised his hands placatingly.  “We want no trouble, Master Elf,” he said, and Legolas could have sworn he sounded almost relieved.  Nonetheless, he kept his bow ready.

“Bind and blindfold them,” he ordered, signaling Sinnarn and Nithron to help Annael and Amdir while he and Beliond stood guard.  In truth, although the Dwarves protested against the Elves’ actions, he doubted if they wanted to make trouble, even if they had been able to, which he was beginning to doubt even more.  As the Elves moved among them, some of them seemed to be almost too weak to stand, and they milled about as if they were dazed.  “Tie them in a line,” Legolas ordered in exasperation.  He could see no other way he was going to be able to keep track of them.

At length, the Dwarves were all blindfolded and tied together, with their hands bound.  Legolas ran his eyes along the line, and suddenly his heart stopped. How could he have forgotten? “Where is the child?” he demanded.  No one answered.  “Where is the child?” he demanded more harshly, prodding one of the blindfolded Dwarves with the tip of his arrow.

The Dwarf jumped. “What child?” he protested.  “We know nothing of a child.”

“Hobbit,” Legolas snapped.  “Where is he?  Do you not realize we are about to take you to our king?  You cannot mean to leave Hobbit here by himself!”

There was a moment’s silence, and then, unexpectedly, the Dwarf snickered.

Any sympathy Legolas might have felt disappeared in a flash of anger so strong he nearly struck the Dwarf.  “You would do best to tell me where the child is,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I am afraid we cannot do that, Master Elf.” The Dwarf still sounded amused, and when Legolas looked at the others, he saw that several of them were smiling too.

“Very well,” he snarled. So far as he was concerned, the Dwarves had just forfeited any claim to be treated gently. He turned to Annael and Amdir.  If the Dwarves would not take care of the child, then the Elves would have to do it.  “Search for him,” he ordered. “I will send one of the night patrols out to relieve you as soon as I can.”

“You need not do that,” said Annael, looking as angry as Legolas had ever seen him.  “A child is missing.  We will keep looking until we find him.”

Legolas nodded, grateful as always for his friend’s kind heart.  Then he turned back to Beliond, Sinnarn, and Nithron.  “The king wanted the Naugrim brought in quickly,” he said.  “Let us see how fast they can move.”  He prodded the Dwarf nearest him. “On your way,” he barked, and they started herding the Dwarves back toward the palace, setting such rapid pace that the blindfolded and obviously weakened Dwarves stumbled at frequent intervals and were held up only by the rope tying them to those ahead and behind.  Legolas felt a surge of satisfaction at their discomfort that he knew was shameful but could not help.

At last, they crossed the bridge and passed through the Great Doors which clanged shut behind them.  Legolas glanced back at them. Thranduil must have been waiting for their arrival before he shut them for the night.  The guards at the doors to the Great Hall flung them open, and Legolas and his companions shoved the Dwarves into the chamber.

The king sat on his carved chair, wearing a crown of leaves and berries, and holding the oak staff that signaled he was being called on to render judgment.  His face was set in hard lines, and his hooded eyes glittered dangerously.  If Legolas had been in the Dwarves’ shoes, he would have been terrified.  He shoved the first Dwarf in line to his knees, dragging the others down too, with Beliond, Nithron, and Sinnarn jerking them upright on their knees.

“Remove their blindfolds and unbind them,” Thranduil ordered. “They need no ropes in here. There is no escape from my magic doors for those who are once brought inside.”  Legolas had to smother a slight smile as he and his patrol hurried to obey.  No one was as intimidating as Thranduil when he was in full kingly form.

The Dwarves blinked in the torchlight of the Great Hall and knelt for a dazed moment chafing their wrists.  Legolas was unsympathetic.  He did not believe his patrol had tied the Dwarves as tightly as their actions indicated.  One by one, the Dwarves spotted Thranduil, and Legolas saw more than one of them swallow convulsively.  To their credit, though, after the first moment, they all pulled themselves as defiantly erect as it was possible to be while kneeling.

Thranduil ran his eyes over the line of Dwarves and let the silence stretch out.  Legolas knew he was waiting for some small sign that the Dwarves were uncomfortable, but no one moved.  At last, his patience worn out, the king asked, “What were you doing in our woods?”

“We were hungry, my lord,” answered a Dwarf in a scarlet hood, “and we had heard about the warm hospitality of Elves.”

Legolas stopped his mouth from falling open only with an effort.  Having seen how weak the Dwarves were, he was ready to concede that they probably were hungry, but that did not appear to be making them any more docile.  They would regret their rudeness, he thought with satisfaction, observing his father’s rigid body and flushed face.

“Sarcasm will serve you ill here, Master Dwarf,” Thranduil said sharply.  “We ask you again for the reason you entered our woods and approached our most sacred ceremonies.”

The Dwarf shrugged.  “Our business is our own.  Release us and we will go on about it and leave your woods at our first opportunity.”

Thranduil narrowed his eyes.  “Release you?  On the contrary, keep on like this and you are likely to enjoy our ‘warm hospitality’ for a very long time.”

“What have we done, O king?” demanded the Dwarf hotly.  “Is it a crime to be lost in the forest, to be hungry and thirsty, to be trapped by spiders?  Are the spiders your tame beasts or your pets, if killing them makes you angry?”

Legolas flinched.  The Dwarf could not have said anything more likely to infuriate Thranduil further.

“It is a crime to wander in my realm without leave,” Thranduil hissed menacingly.  “Do you forget that you were in my kingdom, using the road that my people made? Did you not three times pursue and trouble my people in the forest and rouse the spiders with your riot and clamor?  After all the disturbance you have made I have a right to know what brings you here, and if you will not tell me now, I will keep you all in prison until you have learned sense and manners!”

“My lord,” Legolas intervened.  Annoyed by the interruption, Thranduil looked at him sharply.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“The child who was with these Dwarves is still missing.  I have warriors out searching for him, but it would speed our efforts if the prisoners would tell us what they know of where he might be.”

Thranduil turned again to the Dwarves. “Where is he?”  His tone announced he would brook no defiance, but the Dwarves must have been made of stern material, for to a one, they smiled blandly at the question.

“We know nothing about a child,” insisted the one in the scarlet hood.  Legolas could understand the Dwarves’ need to defy Thranduil, but he was stunned by their indifference to the child’s safety.

“Separate them and lock them up,” Thranduil ordered in disgust. “We will see whether time to think matters over mends their manners.”  Legolas gestured, and Beliond, Sinnarn, and Nithron dragged the Dwarves to their feet and began herding them from the room.

“Legolas,” Thranduil beckoned him back.

“Yes, my lord?”

Thranduil waited until the last of the Dwarves had been shoved through the door. “See to it that they have no chance to speak to one another.  Do not tell them that we are holding their leader, and do not tell him that we have seized them.  Their tongues might be looser if they feel isolated.”

“Yes, my lord.”  Legolas felt no sympathy for the Dwarves. If they had meant no harm, then they should have answered the king’s questions. He bowed and went out into the antechamber to find Sinnarn waiting for him.

“Legolas, can I be one of those who guards the prisoners?” Sinnarn asked eagerly.  “I will never have another chance to talk to them that is as good as this one.”

Legolas eyed his nephew thoughtfully.  Sinnarn was an intelligent, capable warrior whose impulsiveness and friendship with Amdir had too often led him into trouble.  Legolas knew that Ithilden was trying to wait patiently for his son to mature but too frequently found him exasperating.  Lately, however, Sinnarn had shown signs of settling down.  Perhaps he realized how grave the Realm’s situation was becoming or perhaps his affection for Emmelin was steadying him.  At any rate, it occurred to Legolas that the time might have come for Sinnarn to assume some responsibility.  If he were treated with more trust by his superiors, he might very well grow into the expectations they set for him.

“I can do better than that,” Legolas said. “I hereby appoint you head guard.  You can pick three other people to share the duty with and work out the schedule.”

Sinnarn’s face shifted from disbelief to delight.  “Thank you!” he cried. “You will not regret this, Legolas.”

Legolas smiled at him. “I am sure I will not.  Let me just explain the king’s orders.” The two of them began to walk toward the stairway that descended into the area where prisoners were kept.  If Sinnarn did well, Ithilden would be pleased, Legolas thought, and Thranduil would be overjoyed.  His grandson was the apple of his eye.





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List