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Hostage of Hate  by Littlefish

Chapter 29 Unexpected Developments

Servius was having dinner with his two advisors, Telfor and Fanchon. The three men were alone in the giant dining hall, happily feasting on large platters of roasted fowl, bowls of deep red turnips, a variety of delicate pastries, and tankards full of fine wine that Servius had ordered prepared and delivered from one of the finest inn's within the city. The lavish meal was Servius way of making up to his advisors the fact that he had not allowed them to participate in the plans against King Elessar. He had not wanted either of his men to be spotted and recognized by his enemies, and consequently they had been forced to play an extremely minor role in his revenge against the King. Servius knew that neither man was happy about this. Both had suffered at the King's banishment just as he had, and in truth, if it weren't for them, Servius admitted he would not likely be in his current position of power. He owed much to Telfor and Fanchon. They were the closest things to friends he would ever have, and the only two people within his entire guild in whom he trusted. They had saved him from certain capture and death while wandering in Gondor, and after, when he had become Guildmaster, they had continued to serve him faithfully. Therefore, Servius was doing his best to make up for the fact that he had ignored them shamefully within the last couple of weeks. His plan, so far, seemed to be working. Telfor and Fanchon were extremely pleased when Servius promised them a chance to spit in the face of the King before he killed him.

Servius' glee was so great he could barely refrain from rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Soon now, very soon, the moment he had waited years for would arrive. King Elessar would kneel before him, and Servius would wield the blade that would end the man's life forever. He had planned on giving the King a series of several difficult, but possible, tasks in order to weaken and discourage him, but his impatience got the better of him. Having his quarry so close had proved too much for his restraint. He needed his revenge, and he needed it soon. Therefore, he had hastened to issue the task he had previous intended to save for last; the impossible mission of stealing the medallion from the Thieves Guild.

Servius had no doubt that King Elessar would fail in this task. Once arrived and a his messenger returned with the news that the King had failed to retrieve the medallion, Servius would ordered his men to capture Elessar and bring the man to him. He would have to move carefully lest he attract the wrath of the Serpent. The Guildmaster was extremely finicky when it came to the protection of the people staying within his inns. Servius' men would have to find a way to lure the King and his dwarven companion away from the Sleeping Dragon before they made their move. Undoubtedly the two would put up a fight, yet they would not stand a chance against the superior number of men Servius had guarding them. He would order the dwarf killed, then have King Elessar brought to him.

He couldn't contain a shiver of glee at the thought of his most hated enemy brought defeated before him. He would order the elf brought down, then, after proclaiming Elessar's failure, he would kill the fair being. Perhaps, instead of ordering the dwarf killed, he would have him brought before him as well. It would be a double blow against the King to be forced to stare into his companion's eyes as Servius slowly slit both their throats.

Then, Servius would turn his attention on the man he hated above all else. He would likely torture the King for a bit-Telfor and Fanchon would be more than willing to aid in that particular endeavor-and then he would kill him. Slowly.

"I think you should allow Fanchon and I to kill the elf," Telfor spoke up from across the table. "After all, you get to kill the King, we should at least be able to slay his friend."

Servius considered this request while stuffing a large portion of the fowl into his mouth, it's juices flowing down his chin, staining his tunic. He knew Telfor's request was a fair one, but he had developed a sort of personal grudge against the elf, and he wasn't keen on being robbed the pleasure of killing him. Legolas had been trouble from the moment he had arrived in Norvil. His escape attempt last night had resulted in the injury of several of Servius' men, as well as the guildmaster's own slightly tender nose. As soon as they had returned to the guild from the pit fights, Servius had ordered the elf beaten for his rebellion, then taken back upstairs and re-tied to the bed, this time with two guards stationed inside the room. He had considered returning Legolas to the small cage in the cellar, but he was unwilling to risk the possible repercussions. He wanted the elf awake and aware of his surrounding when he killed him, and returning him to the cage might cause the elf to slip back into the coma-like state that he had suffered earlier.

"I will consider your suggestion," he said reluctantly, using a square piece of cloth to wipe the grease from his chin. "Perhaps I will allow you to have a little fun with both the elf and the King before we finally take our revenge."

Telfor and Fanchon nodded, obviously placated. They spent the remainder of the meal planning the gruesome details of what they would do once they had King Elessar firmly in their hands. As the hours dragged on and approached, Servius found himself growing more and more excited, the greased fowl churning anxiously within his stomach. He drank several goblets of the fine wine in order to try and settle his nerves, but soon switched to water so he could keep his thoughts clear and his mind sharp. Tonight of all nights he would not allow his actions to be clouded by too much drink. He was pleased to notice that both of his advisors seemed to be using caution as well.

had not yet come when a soft knock sounded upon the door to the dining room. Servius called for whoever it was to enter, and a moment later a tall man whom Servius recognized as the leader of those guarding the Sleeping Dragon stepped reluctantly into the room.

"Aha!," Servius called out at the sight of him, thinking that the man's presence before the assigned deadline could mean only one thing. "So, King Elessar and the dwarf have decided to attempt retrieving the medallion after all," he shouted gleefully. He had ordered his men to notify him the moment the King made a move against the Thieves Guild

Telfor and Fanchon exchanged startled looks. "Surely not!" Fanchon exclaimed. "They would not be so foolish as to risk stealing the medallion from Thorbis when there is obviously no chance of success."

Servius turned to them and shrugged. "King Elessar is a fool," he stated haughtily. "He is blinded by his affection and loyalty to the elf, and is likely to risk anything in order to save him. Ha! I was beginning to believe that they might not even make an attempt, and I was somewhat disappointed at the thought. This way is so much more fun. To have tried and failed will make Elassar's fall all the more complete!"

"But they will surely be captured by Thorbis' men," Telfor objected. "What if the Guildmaster has them killed? He will rob us of our revenge!"

Servius waved a hand dismissively in the air. "I have Tervanis standing by with a little message and a hefty bag of gold that will surely convince Thorbis to hand his prisoners over to us."

"But what if he refuses?" Fanchon questioned nervously.

Servius arched an eyebrow. "Have you ever seen anyone refuse Tervanis anything? I am no fool, man. Why do you think I use the assassin for such a mundane job as delivering a message? Thorbis will be wary when he realizes Tervanis is working for me, and it shouldn't take too much to convince him it is in his best interest to do as I ask. And even if he is still somewhat reluctant, the gold will surely serve to persuade him."

The two aides did not look entirely convinced.

"He is very powerful," Fanchon said softly, "If he thinks you are threatening him, he might retaliate."

"He is also very wealthy," Telfor added. "Your gold might not hold as much sway over him as you believe."

Servius laughed and waved away his companion's concerns. "Tervanis will make sure they are not killed," he assured them both. "I might not like the assassin, but I do have faith in him."

He then turned back to the guard who had listened to their conversation without interruption. The man's face was extremely pale, and Servius briefly wondered what was causing the guard to look so terrified. He didn't give it much thought, however. "Go and inform Tervanis to be ready to move in just as soon as the King and dwarf have been captured," he ordered briskly "I do not wish to risk them being killed before he can reach Thorbis with my message."

The guard swallowed hard. "S..si..sir?" he stammered. "My message."

"Yes, yes," Servius interrupted impatiently. "I know what your message is! Haven't you been listening? You have come to report that the King and dwarf have left the inn and gone to the Thieves Guild."

It didn't seem possible, but the guard grew even paler. "But sir," he objected in a tremulous voice. "I have not come to report that they have left, but that they have returned."

"Returned?" Fanchon repeated, surprised.

"How can they have returned if they never left?" Telfor demanded, his brow furrowed in thought.

"I gave the order to be informed the minute they went to the Thieves Guild," Servius growled.

The guard nodded. "Yes, master," he said quickly. "That is why when they left about mid-afternoon, Torlin, Jesil and Ran followed them. They were going to make sure they were truly heading to the Thieves Guild before reporting to you."

"They never reported to me," Servius hissed

"No, sir," the guard said slowly. "It appears as if they have disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Servius repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

The guard nodded glumly. "There has been no word from them, and when the King and the dwarf returned to the inn they were alone."

Servius ground his teeth together, his ire rising. What was King Elassar up to? Obviously the King had not gone to the Thieves Guild, for surely if he had he would not have returned. So where had he been? And where were the men sent to follow him?

"There is more sir," the guard added reluctantly, pulling Servius' from his thoughts. He glared at the man, and the guard looked as if he were about to bolt, his gaze flying toward the door. "When they returned to the inn they marched right up to us and gave me this," he bravely stepped forward and placed a cloth wrapped bundle on the table in front of Servius. "They asked.no, commanded me to deliver it to you immediately."

Servius felt an odd sensation of dread build within the pit of his stomach as he stared at the bundle, though he could not explain exactly why. Telfor, Fanchon, and the guard were all three watching him closely, and so with a pretend air of control and indifference, he reached for the bundle. Flipping aside the cloth, he quickly revealed the contents, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

"What is it?" Fanchon demanded, standing up from his chair in an attempt to see inside the bundle.

Servius slowly lifted the crescent shaped medallion from its nest within the cloth, his hands shaking slightly in a mixture of rage and shock. The light from the fire in the hearth glinted merrily off the bright stones inlaid among the intricate silver designs, causing the medallion to sparkle and glow in Servius' hands. All the occupants of the room stared at the precious necklace in awe, frozen into silence by its beauty and the impossibility of its presence.

"It seems you have underestimated your opponent," a low voice said from the doorway.

Servius jerked his gaze away from the medallion and sent a dangerous glare toward Tervanis who stood casually behind the guard in the open doorway. The assassin was also looking at the medallion, but unlike the others he seemed impervious to its spell. Nor did he look entirely surprised to see it, and Servius felt a wave of rage wash through him.

"Aren't you supposed to be standing watch at the Thieves Guild?" he snapped angrily, grasping the medallion in a tight fist and ignoring the pain as its sharp edges cut into his skin.

Tervanis shrugged. "There seems to be no need for me there any more."

Servius felt a blaze of angry suspicion. Surely Tervanis would have seen the King and the dwarf from his position guarding the Thieves Guild, and yet he had sent no word. He had obviously known they had succeeded in claiming the medallion or else who would not have returned early from his post. Or would he have? Servius honestly did not know, for Tervanis continued to remain a complete mystery to him. He could in no way predict what the assassin would and would not do if it fit into his own, private interest. And the fact that Tervanis had his own interests at heart had been clear from the very start. Servius was beginning to wonder if he might have made a mistake in hiring the assassin.

Tervanis was staring at him from across the room, a small, mocking grin on his face as if he could read Servius' every thought. The guildmaster shivered, then opened his mouth to demand an accounting from the assassin.

"How did they manage it?" Telfor asked in confusion, unknowingly distracting Servius from his intended interrogation of the assassin.

Servius turned to his aid, once again opening his mouth to reply before realizing that he didn't have an answer. He had no idea how King Elessar had come to acquire the medallion? Servius had been sure that he had given them an impossible task, and now he was left at somewhat of a loss. How had the King managed it?

Servius suddenly felt very suspicious and more than a little nervous. Warning bells were beginning to chime within his brain, urging him to use caution and to choose his next steps carefully. He had the most horrible feeling that all his well-laid plans were beginning to come unraveled beneath his very nose, and he wasn't at all certain what to do about it. Only moments before he had been celebrating the nearness of his victory, and now he was trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong and how he was going to deal with it. All he knew was that he had to find a way to put a stop to whatever King Elessar was up to before it was too late. Tervanis was right, he had underestimated his opponent. The wise thing to do now would be to carefully think through his planning, discover his error, and then move quickly to correct it before the situation moved out of his control. He could always give up this game of tasks and simply order the King and his companion captured and brought to him.

Yet even as these thoughts were going through Servius' mind, a part of him stubbornly rebelled. He knew that should he take this course of action, he would, in essence, be admitting defeat. Instead of being brought to him in failure, Elessar would come in triumph, knowing he had succeeded in the tasks set against him. This was not the way that Servius had wanted things to be, and he obstinately held to the belief that he could still somehow hold victory over this situation. He wanted the King to be completely crushed before he was destroyed, and he was determined to think of some task that would ensure Elessar's failure once and for all. His plan was not completely lost to him. He merely needed time to think and he would find some way to set things right. King Elessar might have surprised him this time, but he would not do so again.

"Master Servius?" Telfor urged softly when Servius did not reply to his question. "What do we do now?"

Servius did not answer right away. Instead, he stared down at the medallion still clenched in his hand. At last he looked up. They were all watching him: Fanchon, Telfor, Tervanis, and the guard, waiting for his next orders.

"I am going to bed," Servius said at last, his voice admirably calm considered the raging storm of emotions tearing through him. "I will tell you my plans in the morning."

None of them argued, and Servius strode quickly toward the side door of the dining hall that led directly up to his chambers. As he passed the hearth, he opened his fist and hurled the medallion into the raging flames, watching in satisfaction as the fire hungrily swallowed the precious offering. Then he turned, and without another word left the room.

******

Legolas was not fairing well.

Locked in the upstairs bedroom, his hands and feet securely tied to the bedposts, and under the close watch of two guards stationed beside the door, he was finding it impossible to sleep. He was weary beyond measure, and he knew he would need to regain at least some of his strength if he were to be any use to Aragorn and Gimli, yet his mind was too full to offer him any hope of rest. He had all but given up on any hope of freeing himself on his own, and decided he would merely have to remain watchful for any opportunity that might present itself, and be ready to act when the time came. Until then, he was helpless, lost in his misery and growing despair.

His body ached fiercely from the abuse he had suffered the last couple of weeks, the most recent the beating Servius had ordered in response to his escape attempt. His ribs ached, his head throbbed, and his wrists burned fiercely from the ropes chafing against his tender and torn skin. He knew he had not yet fully recovered from his strange reaction to the Svellon drug, for he still felt incredibly weak, and the normal quick healing tendencies of his elven body seemed to be somehow disabled. He also continued to feel slightly ill, something that was completely foreign to him.

Yet despite all these physical complaints, Legolas' suffering was on a much deeper level. He could no longer remember the number of days in which he had been held prisoner against his will. His longing for release eclipsed all other discomforts, and his body virtually shook with his need to be free, to be rid of the rough bonds holding him in place. He was desperate for a chance to move about under his own power and free will, even if it was only a small moment in which he could stretch his legs. He was sure that were he free he would better be able to combat the darkness that continued to threaten to take his control. It seemed that the longer he was held prisoner, the weaker his body and will became and the stronger the darkness within him grew. He was not sure how much longer he would be able to fight it.

And as if the afflictions of body and mind were not enough, Legolas spirit too seemed locked in a frantic battle for survival. His desperation for freedom had awakened within him a longing that swept over him with the unmistakable scent of salt and sea air. It seemed that fate had decreed that he should suffer even more. In his mind the familiar cry of a hundred winged birds swooped down to catch their prey from crystalline waters. The thoughts mocked him, and Legolas was well aware of the sea longing rising up within him. A part of him was warmed and comforted by the familiar songs lifting from the place where water met sand. Yet another part of him recognized the danger of the calling of the sea, a danger that was far greater now than it had ever been before. Trapped as he was, held prisoner against his will, he knew that should he give in to the sea longing, it could very well drive him mad.

Legolas knew that time was swiftly running out. Servius had likely already assigned Aragorn his second task, and though Legolas did not know what it was, he dreaded it all the same. The thought of Aragorn and perhaps even Gimli suffering on his behalf was almost enough to make him start tearing desperately against the bonds holding him despite the sure knowledge of his guards' punishment. He had faith in Aragorn, yet he could not keep himself from worrying over his friends' safety. It was yet another concern that plagued his weary mind.

And then there was Tervanis. Legolas could not even think about the assassin without feeling an odd twisting sensation within his stomach. It wasn't fear exactly that he felt toward Tervanis, but it was definitely caution. Whenever the assassin looked at him, Legolas felt immediately wary. There was something in the man's eyes, something that deeply unsettled him. Tervanis' gaze was almost possessive in it's intensity, something that Legolas did not understand. Nor did he understand the respect, almost admiration, he saw in the man's face. It had not always been there, and Legolas tried to think back to when he had first seen Tervanis look at him in this manner. The last several days of travel to Norvil were nothing but a distant blur to him, and yet he was somehow certain that it was around this time that Tervanis' attitude toward him had changed.

But why had it changed, and what was Tervanis planning? Legolas knew the assassin was up to something, and yet he was not sure what it might be. Tervanis was a complete enigma to him.

In all his years as friend to Aragorn, Legolas had met and lived among many a human. He knew more about that race than perhaps any other elf still remaining in Middle Earth. But Tervanis was unlike any other human he had ever encountered. The assassin looked at other men with contempt and disgust, as if ashamed of the ineptitude of his own people. He was a man that seemed oddly displaced from the rest of his race, as if he did not truly belong, and in that aspect he was frighteningly similar to Aragorn. Raised and taught by elves, and with the blood of Numenor running through his veins, Aragorn was not elven, but he was certainly something greater than an ordinary man. Yet Tervanis had not been raised by elves, and he did not have the blood of kings in his veins. So what made him so different from the others in his race?

Legolas shivered slightly when he thought of the speed and grace in which the assassin moved. It seemed almost to be a learned version of the innate talent of the elves. The fact that Tervanis was well skilled was indisputable, and Legolas was curious to know how the assassin had come by his talent. Still, he could not help but feel slightly apprehensive at the interest Tervanis had shown toward elves in general and in him particularly. Did Tervanis somehow plan to use Legolas and perhaps other elves to prove himself superior to all other men? And if so, how?

Legolas sighed and closed his eyes, shifting as much as he could on the hard bed in an attempt to find a comfortable position. This turned out to be an impossible task however, for the complaints of his body made it difficult to relax. And so he lay quietly, showing no signs of the internal battle that raged within him, nor the questions that hounded him relentlessly. He would just have to be patient and put his trust in his companions. They would come for him, and once they did he needed to be ready to aid them in whatever way possible.

A small sound drifted in through the boarded up window, soft yet distinct, and Legolas turned his head to the side, straining to hear. A few moments later it came again, so softly that Legolas was sure that no one inside the house could have heard it except for himself. It was a faint cry of pain and alarm, the low ring of steel against steel. As he continued to listen, Legolas became more and more certain of what it was he was hearing.

Outside in the alley, a silent battle was raging.

Aragorn and Gimli had come for him.

******

Tervanis sat motionless in his hiding place upon the roof of the guild, watching impassively the massacre taking place below him. Servius' guards held no chance against the stealth and strength of the men from the Thieves Guild, and they were one by one being cut down even as they came to realize the danger. One man had managed to let out a small cry of alarm, but he was silenced so quickly that Tervanis doubted if anyone in the house had heard him.

It seemed as if he had been right; King Elessar had indeed managed to form an alliance with Thorbis. They had not delayed in making their move, either, though this did not surprise Tervanis. He had expected them to act right away, that fact being the reason he was sitting out on this cold roof in the first place. Tervanis could not see either the King or his dwarven companion in the fray below, but he was not worried. They would come. Perhaps Thorbis' men were merely clearing a way for them.

Over a dozen men had been guarding the alleyway leading up to the guild, but they were now all dead, fallen where they had been standing. Thorbis' men melted back into the night, leaving the alley eerily silent and completely devoid of life but for the large, darting forms of rats, which were already moving forward to feast on the dead flesh of the fallen men. The tangy smell of blood hung heavy in the air.

Tervanis waited a few minutes, then silently slipped down from his hiding place on the roof. He moved with a silence and grace that put even the stealth of the Thieves Guild to shame, calmly skirting the dead bodies littering the alley. He knew the King and his companion would be coming soon. It was time he make his move.

Entering the guild, he quietly moved down the hall toward the stairway leading up to the room where the elf was being held.

TBC





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