Chapter 3 - The Dungeons of Thranduil

I am in deep trouble. This is not just a bad day. This is not even a very bad day. THIS is a horrific, don’t know to what or where to turn, and I think I really am going insane BAD day. BW took a very, very deep breath, trying to remember those fool yogic breath control lessons the department had sprung for to eat up an unexpected budget surplus close to the end of the fiscal year. The Department of Wood-Elf Studies never admited to a surplus of money. To do so could affect your operating budget for years to come.

She moved her neck tentatively. OK, that seems alright. Really thought it was dislocated when that large one threw me over his shoulder. Gil-Galad the others kept calling him and singing his praises. They seemed in awe of him somehow, kept touching their right hands to their hearts and extending them to him. Probably a gesture to acknowledge male dominance. I wonder if this is a sub-species? We studied Phoebus, Zippy, Bandaid and company for over a year, and they never evidenced hostile behavior. Except for stealing bandaids and the odd sleeping bag, they were gentle and curious and amazingly willing to interact with us. And, courteous. God, are they courteous! If I could get a date who was half as courteous as Zippy, I’d die happy. Plus, he’d be able to mend butterfly wings, unlike that clot LH who wrecked my car and was eating me out of house and home. This new group, however, definitely evidenced hostility. I’m good at languages, and I’ve become the de facto language expert for the team because, if the others tried, the wood-elves tended to become hysterical, laughing until they could barely stand upright. Zippy snorted and cut himself badly when BD tried to talk to him while he was carving an arrow. He actually hissed at BD, and Zippy never hissed before. Phoebus hissed. Not Zippy. I thought the team’s language attempts amused them because they are by nature a merry group. BD maintained it’s because they are a sarcastic bunch of sods. Still, I don’t like what I’ve been hearing this time. It’s ugly and frightening. Wood-Elves have never been like that to my knowledge. They were always shy and gentle creatures and unfailingly merry and courteous. Maybe I was wrong to ignore the murmuring I heard? Sindarin is still new to me, and I thought it was all my misinterpretation. Kept hearing that one phrase though. "Legolas Thranduilion" followed by hissing and anger, much anger. I don’t know what it means, but that phrase unfailingly unsettled the Wood-Elves. It wasn’t my imagination. They grew fearful and then angry, very angry. We kept observing male threat patterns as they sharpened their white knives incessently. And they would sing a lot at night. The songs were always melancholy though, almost like dirges.. Not like Zippy’s usual cheerful melodies. Really gave me the creeps. I wonder what did happen to BD?

The thought of BD brought her back to herself. Where was he? She’d gotten separated from him when they were ambushed. Her head still ached from where that Gil-Galad had conked her with that spear he always seemed to carry, and she wasn’t yet sure what the date was, so she didn’t know how many days she’d been alone. She’d gotten suckered into this expedition. She saw that now. She’d told herself that she needed the extra money and since she and LH had ended it in such a spectacularly ugly manner it would be good to get out of town for a time. Get her head back in order and all. Her heart hadn’t really been in it though. She still had nightmares when she remembered the dissection. She had screamed and cursed at everyone in her path and even filed a formal written complaint to try and prevent it but to no avail. They had put her on enforced medical leave due to stress they said and, while she was confined to the nursing home, they had done it. They’d deliberately killed one of these gentle creatures, so they could dissect him to further their god Science. There was a public outcry, but they’d also got a lot of press, and that usually equaled grants, another of their gods.   She tried not to think of this often, but she did now. She already felt like garbage, so what did it matter? She wondered suddenly what had happened to Zippy? Was he still alive, or had he fallen victim to the poachers?

Zippy? Shouldn’t I be wondering about BD? He’s my colleague after all. No. I don’t care about BD really. I don’t give a damn if I’m honest. He’s a drunken sot, but his father gives so much money to the department that we get stuck hauling him around. Zippy was different though. He used to look like a ripe idiot with all those bandaids stuck all over him. It always made me laugh. Once I caught him looking at me with almost human intelligence and wondered if he were doing it precisely to make me laugh. The paragon of the scientific method, that’s me! Still, I’d had a really bad day what with that wonderful letter from LH telling me he’d managed to total my new car, and there was this Telerius galadh covered with bandaids smiling at me, and I started laughing until I couldn’t stand up. Zippy laughed with me I remember and then leaped into the trees. I remember him singing as he made his way back to the Halls of Thranduil, the primary residence of our study group. You’d have thought he understood about my day, but I knew I was anthropomorphising. He was just a healthy specimen of T. galadh. They are always laughing. He didn’t understand human emotion. Still, I hope he’s safe somewhere.

BW leaned back against the cold stone walls of her cell, and knew she was crying. She was so miserable that it didn’t matter.

*****

"In all my long years, Thranduil, ne’er have I seen creatures so dreadful. I know not how you managed to capture even this number for they appear reckless of their own safety and would dash themselves upon the rocks of Udûn rather than turn from their evil paths." Celeborn shuddered and turned from the window of the cell wherein the Mary Sues wailed and gnashed their teeth at him. He found he could not bear to look at the fell creatures within, for despite their fair appearance he was wise and knew that they were shape shifters, turning all that was fair in their appearance into a snare for those whose paths they crossed.  Many of the youngest of the Galadhrim, still new in their service to their Lord, had fallen victim to this foul evil and been betrayed by it unto their deaths. Thranduil had less of a problem as Celeborn knew, for many of his elves had hair as dark as the night of the Great Wood. But, the Galadhrim in their radiance fell oft to these fell creatures. Then had Celeborn and his Lady mourned with the mothers of his fallen warriors even as they knew that their tears would ne’er bring them safely home again.

"So, what do you think I should do with them?" Look at him! Celeborn certainly is the best of the Galadhrim, but he’s still a Galadhrim. His damn glow is diminishing just looking at these sluts! I swear, if Galadriel didn’t have Nenya all these long years, Lórien would be a subdivision of Mordor by now. "They can’t stay here forever. I’m using up most of whatever goodwill I had with my she-elf warriors." They want to use them for target practice I hear. Can’t say that I blame them either.

"Galadriel has thought of that, Thranduil." Celeborn drew comfort from the thought of his Lady and his lips curved into a soft smile. "She has a plan."

"A plan? Don’t suppose she’s revealed it to you yet, has she?" Thranduil was naturally suspicious. He seemed to remember that Galadriel had been in Doriath. The dwarves must not have heard that the elves there had a plan?  He snorted in disdain but was careful not to let Celeborn perceive this.

"She is still interpreting the Mirror." Celeborn was courteous above all the elves of his realm, and thus he ignored the strangled indignation of Thranduil, for to notice it would bring his friend shame in the morning's light. However, seeing that the very leaves of Thranduil’s crown were starting to quiver with his fury, Celeborn said smoothly. "She has sent word to Éowyn and that fair lady has agreed to ride to our assistance and take charge of them. Hold them but a little longer, friend Thranduil, for Galadriel feels certain that they have a part to play in our vengeance against the Abomination who slew Haldir of the Galadhrim and took him from his brothers. She and Elrond are consulting the library at Imladris now that you have revealed to us that the tribe of these fell creatures is called Mary Sue."

"Oh, swell! Elrond is in his damn library again, and this time he’s got Galadriel with him, and I’ve got that stupid shieldmaiden of the Rohirrim galloping toward my palace to take care of the Mary Sues. THAT should drive the shadows of evil back from the Wood as soon as they become aware of it. No doubt the next squirrel I see shall be white!

Thranduil grunted. He was in a foul mood and wanted to punch something. Celeborn would be a satisfying target, but he knew that wouldn’t fall under the heading of courteous, and Legolas said he already had a bad reputation for his temper. "Throwing a Thranduil" Legolas said he’d heard it called in Imladris when an elf was angry. Curse Imladris! All they ever do is drift around their waterfalls in those long robes. No wonder they had to use tack when they rode. Even Glorfindel is getting stange living with that bunch. Legolas said he actually has taken to putting bells on Asfaloth! Glorfindel never did that before. You couldn’t blame that on the House of the Golden Flower despite its unfortunate name. No, it was all the influence of Imladris. Insidious place, Imladris. Cannot understand what that boy of mine saw in the place. Can’t be Arwen. Galadriel and I discussed a betrothal. Wouldn’t have been a good match though. Legolas always had a tendency to push Arwen out of trees when she annoyed him. He always caught her before she hit the ground, and that made Arwen laugh, but Galadriel figured Elrond probably wouldn’t understand. He’s not big on trees, Elrond. Galadriel was probably right on that one. Besides, Legolas said Arwen was smitten with that mongrel Estel that Elrond was fostering. Not that Legolas recognizes what a mutt he is either. Seems he thinks of him as a friend. King of Gondor, indeed. Pure luck that was and the presence of my son, of course. Still, I don’t have to worry about Legolas on that score. Mortal women drive him nuts. Says he can’t even take a walk in the forest some days what with them falling from the sky or darting into his path. Serve the Peredhil right if his daughter ran off with a mortal! Legolas. Thranduil was still upset about Legolas. The boy was a fool sometimes what with all that hanging around with dwarves and mortals, but he was Thranduil’s son, and the king missed his presence in Arda.

"So, Celeborn, have they found New Zealand yet?" Thranduil’s voice was loud and wroth and echoed in the dungeon’s hall. He did not wish to continue thinking of his son. He wanted to dwell upon revenge instead. The Lord of the Galadhrim knew this and smiled politely, but he felt his friend’s sorrow press upon his own heart for he had himself lost a child and knew well that there were no words of comfort in him that could help Thranduil. And deep within himself wept Celeborn the Wise for the loss of Legolas from his father’s arms.

"Nay, not yet. I admit Galadriel is getting vexed with Elrond." Celeborn shook his silver head sadly. "Would that I could give my Lady the gift she so desires. Would that I could lay New Zealand before her feet."

Thranduil was about to reply to his friend when they were both startled by a shrill whistle and the banging of a wooden goblet against the bars of the cell. Celeborn drew closer and saw a short and rather dirty maiden peering at him through the bars.

"Hey, you with the silver hair!"

Celeborn was startled. In all their years of friendship, Thranduil had never seen his friend so much as blink in battle, even if he were beset with orcs on every side. Ever was he calm. Yet, Celeborn was now definitely startled by a maiden who called to him in Sindarin from the depths of the dungeons of Thranduil. It was not very good Sindarin, but both elven lords could understand it and drew closer to the cell wherein BD had been thrown.

"Speakest thou to me, lady?" Celeborn thought she probably wasn’t really a lady, but he was ever courteous and inclined his head to her as was the custom of the Galadhrim.

"If you’re looking for New Zealand, I’m talking to you." BW took a very deep and steadying breath. There was a lot riding on this conversation, and she doubted if she’d get a second chance. "You see, I’ve been on holiday there. I KNOW where New Zealand is!"

"By the Valar, can this be true, lady? You could lead us there?" BW nodded because she thought she might throw up if she opened her mouth. Celeborn turned to Thranduil and his voice was that of a warrior seeking the report of his captains. "Who is this maiden? From whence comes she to your dungeon? Speak, for the time of our need is now and we must move swiftly to defeat our foes."

"She was rounded up with that group of Mary Sues. As she obviously is no beauty and thus cannot be of that tribe, the she-elf warriors summoned me. In truth, Celeborn, I know not what or who she is, and I am keeping her until I do. Caution means you do not die so quickly here in the Great Wood."

And Celeborn grew silent at these words, and his clear eyes turned upon the face of the maiden BW. And he searched her eyes with his, and she felt his presence in her mind, and there Celeborn saw truth and no evil intentions toward the First Born for he felt her heart to be pure.

"Make her ready for travel, my lord Thranduil, for on the morrow I shall ride with her to Imladris, and there Galadriel will speak with her, and this maiden shall lead us from the darkness."

Then did Celeborn, Lord of the Galadhrim, first smile at BW, and the maiden at once forgot her fear and bowed her head before him and acknowledged him as her king.

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Legolas Thranduilion:  Sindarin for "Legolas, Son of Thranduil"