(A/N: In accordance with my beta, Nieriel Raina’s, recommendations, I am heightening this story’s rating from PG-13 to R. I apologize to any of you younger readers out there; if you still want to follow the story, I suggest you go through your parents and/or guardians.
Now then … Jill Paton Walsh, I believe, was the author who suggested a writer, when in the throes of turmoil, will write of simple and clinical things, whereas that same writer may when life settles down allow all the demons and nightmares of Hell appear upon her page. With that thought in mind, O Readers Mine, my life is tranquil, and Legolas, I fear, is in for a rough time of it. I am contrite, and beg your forgiveness.
Le Rouret)
Kaimelas was awaiting them at the chamber door, tall and dark and imposing against the dim candle light as they came down the gloomy hallway. “Finally!” he exclaimed irritably, and glancing quickly right and left drew them inside, and shut and bolted the door behind them, shaking his head. “Esgaroth is become an evil place,” he said, laying the key on the table by the lintel. “I had only to go to – good heavens! What has happened to you, my lord?”
“I do not have any idea,” said Legolas grimly, tearing at his collar buttons with one hand, and his belt buckle with the other. “Help me out of this, Tamin! I feel as though I am being smothered! Gimli thinks I was poisoned, but I cannot believe it; Malbeach ate from the same salver as I, and Renna and I shared from the bottle of Dorwinion.”
“Dorwinion!” said Bandobras, raising his eyebrows eloquently to Kaimelas, though he very efficiently batted Tamin’s anxious hands out of the way, and aided Legolas with his belt buckle. “Well! That’d explain the unsteady pins, wouldn’t it?”
“He had but half a glass,” said Gimli. He deposited Legolas on the pallet and stalked to one of the windows, looked out, then reached round to close and fasten the shutters. Tamin, anxious to redeem himself in his Master’s eyes, hurried to the other and fastened it with a bang. “Something is amiss in this house, to be sure, Bandy; but it most certainly isn’t the comestibles. Better ale and food I have not tasted in quite a while.”
“Nor was it the view,” admitted Legolas, smiling weakly as Bandobras unbuttoned his splendid jeweled robe. “Lady Renna and her maids are I own fair enough to please any palate, excluding Dwarves, of course, as the ladies hereabouts possess no beards.”
Gimli snorted. “Her manners are certainly wanting,” he said; “she left far too early.”
“As did we,” protested Legolas. He rose and let Tamin, who rushed from the window to his Master’s side, lift the robe from his shoulders, and smiled to see Bandobras fuss round it, then take it from the boy and hang it reverently over a chair, brushing bits of straw from it, and tut-tutting at the dirty hem. “And she had good reason to leave, I own. How her husband speaks to her! Why, I have heard the basest innkeeper speak to a two-penny whore with more politesse than that!”
“What is a two-penny whore?” asked Tamin, wide-eyed; Legolas grimaced and glanced at Kaimelas, who grinned.
“Twice as good as the one-penny variety, of course, Tamin,” said Kaimelas, neatly catching his lord’s irritably cast belt. “Now, the three-penny whores are most – “
“Enough!” said Legolas sternly. “This is no time for frivolities, Kaimelas. Belegtilion and Dúrfinwen are missing.”
Kaimelas started. “Belegtilion and Dúrfinwen!” he exclaimed, his face paling. “Why I heard it were Melima and Belias!”
“Drat!” exclaimed Bandobras, and Tamin gave a cry of dismay. “Two’s bad enough, but what if it’s all four? That’d be a blow and no mistake!”
“It is grave indeed,” said Legolas, tearing out his plait and shaking his long pale hair. He cast off his collar and cuffs, and stretched, happier in his simple linen shirt and breeches, though he looked worried. “My friends, we must hold a council of war – a brief one to be sure, but let us determine what we know.” Taking them round him upon the pallet, he described what had occurred on the high dais, the stilted conversation and odd oppressive compulsions. “It is like holding one’s breath overlong,” he said, shaking his head; his long flaxen hair drifted lightly over his shoulders and his grey eyes were pensive. “The sparkles before one’s eyes, the feeling one’s head is overfull, the roaring in one’s ears – and dizziness – such dizziness! I do not think it was the atmosphere, for I did not observe anyone else acting in like fashion.”
“I certainly felt nothing,” said Gimli. “I sat beside that drunkard – what was his name? Ah, yes, Barth – he seemed half-afraid of me, and at times was too drunk to remember I was a Dwarf; yet when he did, would stammer and apologize, and grow near terrified. My people are no longer very popular here in Lake Town I fear, for Barth and his tipsy friends did seem antagonized and suspicious, and were continually warning me off their women – not that there were many of them at the feast! – and bragging of the fortifications round their treasure-houses. And when I distanced myself from my brothers in Erebor, reminding them I was Lord of Aglarond many leagues to the south, they grew unnaturally curious regarding any treasure that might be found in Rohan; and when I left were muttering that Eorl the Young was distant relation to the men of the Long Lake, and Éomer’s gold as good as theirs. Ridiculous,” he huffed, and taking out his pipe began to tamp it full of weed. “In truth ‘twas tiresome conversation; what interested me more was watching you, Legolas, changing color like a wilting rose-leaf, and nearly following that devilish Malbeach out of the Hall! Where was he taking you anyway, my friend?”
“I know not,” admitted Legolas. “Nor know I why I had that compulsion to follow! I am immeasurably grateful to you, though, for arresting me; I am not certain for what nefarious purpose he sought to beguile me away, but if he is no shirt-lifter, I am a Hobbit.”
“And that you ain’t nohow,” said Bandobras grimly. “Give me that tinder-box, will you, Gimli? That weed smells mighty good. Well, your turn now, Kaimelas; Tamin and me’ve been doing nothing, as we were ordered, so we’ve got nothing to say. Speak up, do; and mind you don’t go of forgetting anything!”
“Very well!” said Kaimelas; he drew his limbs in close and rested his chin on his knees. He looked pensive and a little angry. “Uneasy in my mind, I went down to the stables when I quit you. Seeing how the Men treated the destriers at the joust unnerved me; Hammer is a mighty beast, but all our animals are contained, and I felt I might trust no one to care for them and not to harm them.” He gave Tamin, who watched him owlishly, a small smile. “Also did I follow the entreaties of your esquire, O Green Knight, for whom the wellbeing of his little white horse is so pressing an issue! So down I crept, as quiet as I could – be thankful, my lord, you brought with you one of your old scouts! – and came upon a group of men clustered about the pump by the granary. They were complaining of the foulness of the water, of its bad stench and oily texture. They moved on after a few moments and I went to investigate it. My lord, my friends all; ‘twas the same greasy muck we found in the ruined village this morning! Vile smell and worse clarity; it was undrinkable. I did manage to find a well of fresh water outside the town; but it seems to me most of the pumps bring forth this awful muck; whence comes it, I cannot guess.
“When I came back in by the gates – eschewing the gate keeper, of course; I had no wish to announce that I was sneaking round in the dark! – I did see a great group of soldiers, fifty in all; many were the same Men that did find us in the village to the south. They were laughing and drinking, and talking of some sport – “ here he glanced at Tamin with caution, who watched his elders wide-eyed; Legolas caught the look and shivered. “’Twas vile banter, even for one such as I, wed and well-versed in the iniquity of Men. All women were whores to them I saw, and I no longer wonder that Lake Town has emptied of feminine influence. Then did some speak of us and of our visit here; some of the Men were all for striking us down simply, and being rid of us, for they do not want us gaining Eryn Lasgalen; but their lieutenant bid them wait, for their Master has some scheme in mind involving you, my lord, and your influence over your Lord Father.” He shook his head, his fair face grieved. “Then did they speak of Melima and Belias,” he said in a low voice, closing his eyes. “They spoke of them as one would speak of prey or livestock, calling them ‘it’ and pleased over what their fate must be. They laughed about the Dwarves, O Lord of Aglarond, for their blame in the disappearance; but all seemed to know that the Dwarves were but dupes and patsies, and they found it quite amusing that ‘those Southern Elves’ had been driven off into the wilderness – to the East, I gathered; though when they spoke of the area round the Iron Hills many of them shuddered, and cast fearful looks that way. I think me there is some mystery in the wild region, my lord, that goes beyond lions and Dwarves; for though they laughed to think of Belias and Melima in the wilderness, none were sanguine about going there themselves.”
“Ah, me,” sighed Legolas. He too pulled his legs up close, and wrapping his long arms round them rested his chin on his knees, and closed his eyes. Upon his face was a look of profound regret. “My poor Melima; how my heart aches for her! But if she and Belias were driven into the wilderness together, he would look out for her and protect her; she was so young, that dear friend, and he a stern warrior.”
“I’m none to happy to hear about Belegtilion and Dúrfinwen, either, Legolas,” said Gimli, shaking his head over his pipe. “Belegtilion’s a fine fellow, and I like him well; and Dúrfinwen, of course, is an absolute treasure. No beard, but I would forgive her for that; I hope Belias and Belegtilion might keep the maids safe!”
“Well, you know, Gimli, that Belias – “ began Legolas; but then there was a soft knock at the door, and they all fell silent, startled by the interruption. Bandobras gave a little huffing noise and scrambled down off the pallet, stumping over to the door and unlocking it. He opened it a few inches and peeped his head out.
“Well?” they heard him say. “What do you want, missy? Getting pretty late, and my lord’s for his bed.”
“O an it please you, good sir,” said a breathless voice, a girl’s voice, trembling and afraid. “It is a note, sir, for your lord, for the great Prince of Mirkwood.”
“A note, is it?” Bandobras said suspiciously. “Who’s it from, then?”
“My mistress,” said the voice. “She bid me deliver it in haste; for it contains therein news for his knowledge and comfort; but I must go and go quickly, for if my lord finds me here – “ There was a little sob then, and the patter of footsteps; and Bandobras bent down to pick something up off the floor outside the lintel. Then he shut and bolted the door again, and held up a little envelope with his thumb and forefinger.
“Not the boldest maid I’ve ever seen,” he said dryly, turning the envelope over thoughtfully. “Well, seeing as you’re mostly Elves here, I’m a-thinking you heard that little exchange. A note from the lady of the hall! That sounds awful dodgy to me. Do you want this letter, my lord, or shall I just go and whang it on the fire?”
“Give it me, please, my Bandobras,” said Legolas, holding out his hand. “If the lady wishes to impart tidings to comfort me, then I shall take it; I have heard little tonight that gives me any consolation.” He took the note and broke the wax seal; he read it, and frowning gave it to Gimli. “Odd!” he said uncertainly. “If she wishes to meet me in secret, why should she invite me to her dressing-room? Surely her husband would find me there, and I be covered in scandal!”
“Perchance that is her aim, my lord,” said Kaimelas, peering over Gimli’s shoulder to read the note. “I have news of UTMOST SECRECY, which you MUST listen to, for YOUR safety and that of your good retainers, but fearing my husband and his HEAVY HAND against me have little choice but to recourse to NOTE WRITING, and beg of you to hear these speerings, to give you HOPE in these desperate times – A tad histrionic for my tastes; were I Malbeach I might beat her too.”
“O do be nice, Kaimelas,” said Tamin reprovingly. “If she is frightened of her husband, it is no wonder she sends this note to my Master; for as all know he champions the weak and protects those who cannot help themselves.” He peered at the note too, as Gimli passed it back to Bandobras. “Quite a few underlined words, but perhaps that is because she is worried, and wishes to convey her emotions thus upon the written page, when otherwise she could not express them. I do not see anything wrong with it at all!”
“Except perchance the motivation,” said Gimli. Legolas rose to his feet, and fetching his sword-belt began to buckle it on. “Here, now!” the Dwarf exclaimed, alarmed. “Surely you are not going to meet with her now!”
“I am,” said Legolas firmly. “Have any of us met another in this town willing to speak clearly to us of the situation? Something is going on, and I shall wager any amount of money in my treasury that it is bad. Three of my folk are missing, two of whom are maids and ladies in my household; Lady Renna did say she had words to comfort, so perchance these speerings to which she alludes concern them closely, and a manner in which I might save them.”
“This is a really bad idea, my lord,” said Bandobras worriedly. “Going to a married woman’s dressing room, in the dark of night, and against her husband’s wishes! Why, I’ll bet you even Tamin knows that’s not on.”
“Well,” said Tamin, blushing. “I – I do not think it something my Adar would approve of, certainly.”
“There you have it, my lord,” said Kaimelas. “Rúmil would disapprove; is that not motivation enough?”
“Do see reason, Legolas,” begged Gimli as Legolas attached his sword and sheath to the frog. “What can she possibly tell you in her dressing-room that she could not divulge elsewhere?”
“The whereabouts of my people,” said Legolas grimly, loosening the sword in his sheath. “To me those three swore their fealty, and I in return promised to succor and protect them. How can I leave them to such an unknown fate? Even Belias, though he is a king’s man, is my friend, and I owe him enough to discern his doom.” He patted the hilt of his great sword and said, “Fear not! My blood-thirsty blade, Irmatenagar, and I shall exercise caution; I shall go unto her chamber, and tell her simply to meet me in the stables with Gimli in attendance tomorrow morning; she may discharge her secrets then. Perchance if her news is urgent then I shall wrest it from her straight way, and waste no further time; for who knows what difficulties my people currently bear? Then might we leave forthwith, and wind up this mystery sooner rather than later. Good heavens, I am weary!” he added, scrubbing discontentedly at his face. “How my eyes burn! And when I have spoken to her, if she has naught of interest to say, shall I seek my bed; I do not doubt me I shall sleep poorly, but in any case I shall be in the correct position.”
“At least bring one of us with you,” beseeched Gimli. “This is madness, Legolas! What if it is a trap?”
“A cogent point, my lord,” said Kaimelas worriedly. “At least allow Lord Gimli and me to circle round the other side of the Hall; that way if there is any ambush we might spring it ere they find you.”
“O my lord, let me do it,” begged Tamin, clasping his hands and looking up at Legolas earnestly. “I am quieter than Lord Gimli – meaning no disrespect, of course, O Lord Gimli; I do not mean to insult you; but you are a Dwarf and I am an Elf and I am much, much quieter than you, and Kaimelas and I – “
“No, Tamin,” said Legolas firmly. “I do not trust the Men hereabouts. Stay here, Little One; you and Bandobras must hold down our little shelter while you can.” Seeing Tamin’s eyes fill with disappointed tears, Legolas let out a frustrated exclamation, and kissed the crown of his esquire’s golden head. “My poor Tamin!” he exclaimed. “You are my esquire; to you I consign the care of my effects, and how can you do so if you are creeping round hallways? I tell you, stay here; I will be back very soon, I promise you, Little One.”
“V- very well, Master,” gulped Tamin, his head drooping; Legolas ruffled his hair, and winked secretively at Kaimelas and Gimli.
“You had best go first,” he said; “make sure the hallways are clear so that I might escape; there are as you know three ways in and out of this rabbit’s warren. I will take the most direct route, and meet you back here in, I hope, a few moment’s time. Go quietly; go safely!”
“The same goes for you, you reckless fool,” grumbled Gimli, tucking a throwing-axe in his belt. “Well, Kaimelas? Have your knife? Good. You take the eastern passageway, and I shall take the one round the staircase.”
“At your good whim, O Lord of Aglarond,” said Kaimelas with a bow; and Elf and Dwarf slipped out into the passage, leaving Legolas with Tamin and Bandobras. Legolas could hear Gimli fussing at Kaimelas, that surely they had known each other long enough for Kaimelas to call him by his proper name; Kaimelas was laughing at him. The Hobbit regarded the Green Knight gravely; his eyebrows were puckered and he looked worried.
“I don’t like this, my lord, not one little bit,” he said, shaking his head.
“Nor do I, my Bandobras!” said Legolas tiredly. “But have you any other notion how I might discern my peoples’ fates? If you have an idea to get information out of these vile folk, I am willing to attend unto you.”
“Bash ‘em up and make ‘em talk,” said Bandobras with grim humor. “Seems to me that suits the Green Knight better nor all this sneaking round with other men’s wives.”
“Were we more than five against hundreds would I contemplate that,” smiled Legolas, laying one long hand on the halfling’s curly head. “Say nothing, my dear Little One! I know you are thinking of a time when your Master slew two dozen soldiers in his wrath, seeking to protect his little esquire’s life and safety! You acquitted yourself well then in the clearing against Eradan’s men; I fully expect you to do so now, only mind you do not fall out of a waggon and bang up your dear little head this time!”
“O, you!” said Bandobras, batting Legolas’ hand away and blushing a little. “Had to bring that up, didn’t you, my lord? Well, I’ll promise not to go of falling out of waggons if you’ll promise to be a little more careful-like. I don’t trust this Lady Renna, that I don’t, and see to it you don’t neither!”
“I shall exercise due caution, my Bandobras,” Legolas promised, and opening the door he checked the passageway, then slipped silently out.
The way was dark, for the torches were poorly pitched and some had gone black out. But Legolas had been a guest in the Hall of the Master of Lake Town before and knew his way; he walked with seeming nonchalance, seeking to confuse any who might follow him, confident that Kaimelas and Gimli would flush out any predators. He gained the Lady’s dressing-room without incident; but upon tapping at the door was greeted not by Lady Renna, but a white-faced girl of no more than twelve or thirteen summers, dirty and disheveled, and staring up at him in terror.
“I seek your mistress, Lady Renna of Dale,” said Legolas. “Is she within, my child?”
“N – no, sir, she – she – “ The girl gulped, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks; she trembled with fear. “O do not hurt me – I beg you – “
“Bless you, child, I’ve no notion of hurting you!” said Legolas gently. “But tell me whence she has gone and I shall harass you no longer.”
“The Inn,” she whispered, glancing round fearfully. “The Inn – she said – she said to tell you – to follow the candle – “ There was a scratching sound in the hallway, which Legolas recognized as a rat scrabbling round; but with a frightened squeak, the girl shut the door in Legolas’ face. He heard her throw the bolt and scurry away, sobbing.
“Curious!” he thought. “And saddening too. Am I so frightening then? I think not. ‘Tis some other hand she dreads. To the Inn, then; I shall assume I am being followed, and let Gimli and Kaimelas protect my back.” Lifting his chin, he set off down the stairway, though he prudently ducked into an alcove to avoid a pair of passing men, and waited listening for a time; then, hearing nothing more, he slipped out the side door of the Hall and into the street.
Lake Town had been such a friendly and jolly place; it hurt Legolas to see the empty houses, the bolted and shuttered doors where before he might have met many who would have still been round to cheerfully bid him good-night. He passed the well; it stank, and oozing round the edges of the stone wall was a greasy puddle of mud. “Ugh!” he thought; “if aught is poisoning the water hereabouts, I do not doubt me folk have moved on. What a foul stench!”
He found the Inn; it was shut up and dark, but when Legolas circled it saw the faint glimmer of a candle in one of the upper windows. Avoiding the entrance, which was far too open and exposed for his comfort, he scrambled up the stone façade to the next window; it was not shuttered for it was on the second floor, and Legolas crept silently within. It was dark, but not too dark for his sharp eyes; he descried an empty chamber, a bed shoved crookedly askew, and broken crockery in a black fireplace. He pressed his ear to the door, listening; but the passage without appeared to be empty. So cautiously, carefully, he pushed the chamber door open, holding his breath lest it squeaked; at last he had gained enough space to slip through, and ran noiselessly down the hall to the room with the candle.
There was the barest hint of soft yellow light beneath the door. He again pressed his ear to the door, and heard within a voice whispering, and the light step of a woman pacing to and fro, to and fro across the room. Also was there the susurration of hands being wrung together, and now and again the soft voice fetched up in a little sob. Holding his breath and listening with all his might Legolas heard what the woman was saying:
“O what shall I do … what shall I do … he is horrible … a serpent … I cannot … I cannot bear it … “ Another sob; Legolas could almost see her as she paced frantically about, hands clasped; his heart turned over with pity. “He will … he will hurt me again … will give me away to that, that horrible … I am a thing … chattel … O I cannot bear it any longer … what shall I do? Everyone’s hand is against me … my maids … they talk behind my back, take things from me … O what shall I do … I am so alone … so alone!”
Stepping back, Legolas shook his head and set his jaw. “That damned Malbeach,” he thought, his anger stirred. “What has he done to this poor woman? O that Men would be chastised for their wicked ways; for their cruelty against the fairer sex!” And laying his hand upon the latch, he pushed the door open and entered the chamber.
Lady Renna spun round, eyes wide and terrified, her clasped hands pressed to her lips, stifling a cry of fear. “Be at peace, my lady!” said Legolas in a low voice, holding out his hands in parley. “I will not harm you, and I have given you away to no one. You are safe with me.”
“Oh!” Her brown eyes dilated black, and she pressed her hands against her bosom, fetching in her breath with a harsh whimper. Then before Legolas quite knew what to do with himself, she was in his arms, sobbing and clutching at his shirt, gibbering incoherently against his throat and wetting him with her tears. Legolas was taken aback; at first he held his arms away from her hesitantly, unwilling to embrace her; but she crumpled against him and he grabbed on to her, not wishing for her to faint or fall. He patted her back awkwardly, trying hard not to pull away and further upset her.
“There, there,” he said a little confusedly, very aware he was saying absolute nonsense, and mentally kicking himself for being so unhelpful. She threw her arms round his neck and clutched him tight, pressing her face into the cusp of his throat; he could feel her tears and her wet lashes fluttering on his skin. Then he patted her back again, and realized with an uncomfortable jolt that she was wearing nothing but a chemise.
His propriety overcame his delicacy and he pulled away, painfully conscious of the cumbrousness of his position should they be espied together; she seized hold of his lapels with desperate hands, and gazed agitatedly up at him with tear-filled eyes, begging him: “O do not leave me – O Prince of Mirkwood, have mercy on me – my husband – Malbeach – he is so cruel to me – look!” To Legolas’ disconcertment she pulled the collar of her chemise aside, revealing her breast and shoulder; but then he was arrested by the sight of cruel bruising and scratches, and a terrible red burn. “He – he came after me with a poker,” she sobbed, pulling the chemise close and clutching it tight round her throat. “He beat me – and – and – “
“Hush – hush!” said Legolas, more concerned with keeping her quiet than in comforting her; but she read his soft and placating tone amiss and threw herself at him again. Wishing mightily for Gimli just then, Legolas grimaced into her familiarly fragrant curls, and wondered how on earth he was to extract himself from this. “He will not hurt you,” he said, patting her carefully on the back, dismayed to find she was not even corseted. He could feel the curve of her flesh beneath his palm and against his chest, and he cringed back from it. “I am here; I will not let him hurt you again.”
“When he finds out – when he sees I am gone – “ Her lips moved against his collarbone, and he shuddered, looking round a little wildly and hoping Kaimelas showed up soon. “Where are they?” he thought frantically. “Orcs and spiders and swords I can manage; but not this – not this!” “O protect me, Prince Legolas!” she sobbed, wrapping her hands in his long loose hair and holding his head still; Legolas swallowed heavily. “He will beat me– or – or give me to his men again – “
Her words appalled Legolas, and he pulled back, looking with horror down into her flushed fair face, at the brook-brown eyes sparkling with gold. “That blackguard – “ he began; then with sick suddenness the room spun and went dark, and he staggered, trying to keep his feet; he felt very light-headed, and the noise in his ears was like the roaring of a tailrace. He felt her grab at him, and lead him staggering away; he fell heavily upon a pallet, and shaking his head regained his sight. Renna hovered over him, teary eyes anxious and afraid, patting his cheek with her hand and stroking his hair.
“What is it?” she asked anxiously. “Are you ill? What is wrong?”
“I, I – “ he stammered, trying to sit up; his arm encountered her shivering unfettered breasts and he flinched back, pressing himself into the musty pallet and feeling his face burn with shame “How Kaimelas would laugh at me!” he thought confusedly; his head felt like sand and he was having a terrible time marshalling his thoughts. “I have not slept in weeks,” he said weakly, then was suddenly arrested by her eyes, her deep, shining eyes, glazed with tears and filled with compassion and tenderness. He felt her hands caressing his cheeks and knew he should pull back, but he was transfixed, pierced through by her adamant gaze. His hands were heavy, like lead, and his belly burned within him. He wondered if he were indeed ill.
“How dreadful!” Renna whispered, shaking her head with pity. She began fumbling at his shirt collar. “You need air – and rest. O do not sit up – do not think to treat me as you would treat some grand lady, O Prince! I am but a rustic woman and you do not need to rise in my presence. Lie still; rest.” She fixed him with an ardent smile, and he melted beneath it, his entrails like butter in the summer sunshine. His mind was cloudy and he knew he ought to arrest her, but his limbs were water; her lithe white fingers unbuttoned his linen shirt and opened it, and he felt the cool air in the chamber caressing the skin, bringing him out gooseflesh. “There,” she breathed, smiling, her eyes shining at him, smoky and glittering. Her fingertips caressed his chest. He wanted to stop her, but he could not move his hands; he felt her fingers trail over his skin, cold fingers, so cold they burned. “You are so gentle,” she whispered, gazing into his eyes. His vision blurred and he felt himself sink further into the pallet; she had climbed on top of him, her hands on his face, in his hair, skimming over his bare skin. He shivered and wished to push away, but he could not seem to control his arms. “I know you will protect me from my husband,” she purred, leaning in to him; he could feel her nuzzling against his jowl, her lips on his collar bone. “You are so strong … like heavy silk; soft and tough and fine … pure and untouched … not innocent, but pure … so mighty and rich … and so beautiful … so, so beautiful.” Her hands were everywhere, freezing him, holding him still; his mind struggled to fight but he was so tired, so weak. “Lovely,” she murmured against his skin, and drew the flesh of his throat into her mouth to suckle it. “So lovely – you eclipse your father, even. O, your hair, O Prince … “ Her fingers sifted through the silken fall of his hair, and he stared up at her, numb and unmoving. She smiled, showing her teeth. “Your eyes, like the silver of the deep waters … and your lips, like rose leaves … “ She leaned over him, her weight pressing him down; he was drowning in her shadow, in the scent and warmth of her body; her lips pressed against his and she sighed with delight. “Kiss me, Legolas,” she breathed into his mouth, and mindlessly he did, his arms stiff and trembling, staring past the rich chestnut curls to the stained and cracked ceiling above them. She moved against him, her restless limbs stretching and contracting, and the unwitting surge of pleasure shocked him past his compliance. Legolas was unwed, and like many of his kind he was yet fiercely maintained in purity; it was enough for him to combat his mutinous limbs, and he twisted away from her, fetching up on the floor on his hands and knees, breathing harshly, his head spinning.
“What is it?” she asked above him; her voice was teasing and gentle. “You are not afraid of me, are you, O Prince Legolas, Green Knight, Lord of Dol Galenehtar? I am but a woman, and a mortal, O my sweet, my delectable one; you have naught to fear from one as weak as I.” He felt her hand on his back, caressing the bare skin; he was cold and trembling, and he could barely breathe. “Now, then,” she said, laughing; he saw her feet, bare against the wood floor, walk back to the pallet; his eyes tracked her, though he was numb to anything else. “Look at me.” When he struggled to keep his eyes fixed upon the floor, she laughed again, and said: “Am I so ugly then, that the beautiful Prince of Mirkwood will not look upon me? Look at me, Legolas.” When still he fought the compulsion, her voice sharpened. “Look at me!”
As though a hook had been caught in his mouth, his head jerked up. She was standing by the bed, her hands at her collar, smiling at him, her roiling, tumbling curls round her bare shoulders. Her eyes burned like dark gems lit behind with a great roaring fire, and Legolas’ consciousness faded in the conflagration. His head drooped and his vision darkened. Her voice became deep and hoarse, and all he could feel was the rough wood beneath his palms. “Crawl to me,” she commanded. “Abase yourself before me, O lovely Green Knight.” There was the silken whisper of cloth, and Legolas sluggishly raised his head enough to see her feet; she was stepping out of her white chemise, and her legs were bare. Helplessly he crawled toward her, his body afire, his mind insensible; he heard her chuckle richly. “Yes,” she said; he reached her feet and stopped, every joint in his body aching to flee. “Show to me your subjugation, Legolas.”
Powerless to stop himself, Legolas crouched down, and kissed her feet. She laughed again; it was a warm, welcoming laugh, and his heart filled. “O yes,” she said, and there was a creak as she lowered herself on the bed. “Come here, O Prince.”
As though his body were a marionette, controlled by some reprehensible hand, Legolas lurched clumsily to his knees. She sat naked before him, her breasts round and full, her flashing eyes reflecting the candle light, her slim arms reaching out to him. She was smiling, red-lipped, pink-cheeked, affectionate, and when she gestured he was defenseless, and tumbled gracelessly into her waiting embrace. She kissed him, and overcome with the compulsion pressing upon him, he kissed her back, his arms round her naked form. She ate at his mouth hungrily, and he could hear her breath hissing in her nostrils. Some small bright corner of his mind screamed in protest, but the dark oppression crushed him; he felt her gather him close between her thighs, and realized to his horror he had her breasts in his hands, and she was sighing and moaning, and wrestling with his trouser buttons. Then her tongue parted his lips, and the serpent thrust its head into his mouth and slid down his throat.
He retched; his whole body jerked back, and his mind was flooded with light and clarity. It burned her freezing touch from his skin, and he tumbled away, scrabbling against the rough dirty floor with his hands, kicking desperately. He turned, and seeing her standing naked there realized what he had done, and felt again the snake writhing within him; he vomited, and when she stepped closer, he raised his hands to her, blocking her face from his vision.
“Harlot – harlot!” he rasped, twisting and writhing, struggling to be free of the horrible compulsion to lie with her. He felt very hot and was trembling to his fingertips. “Go away – I will not – I – “
“Legolas,” she said; her voice was alarmed. “You are ill; you should be in bed – “
“No – “ He pushed her away, batting frantically at her hands. “You – I – “ Then he blinked, and focused on her fingers; and his heart went cold.
There, upon her forefinger, was a beautiful moonstone, set in mithril and surrounded by diamonds: the ring of Oropher.
He retched again, and when she recoiled grabbed her hands and roughly wrenched the ring from her finger. She cried aloud in pain, but he staggered to his feet, clutching his grandfather’s ring in his palm and lurching back against the chamber door. “You whore!” he cried, fumbling with his sword; he drew it with a steely hiss, and she screamed and fell back on the bed, shielding herself ineffectually with her arms. “You dare defile the royal marriage-bed of Doriath! You harlot – you – “ His gorge rose and he vomited again; his sword dipped and he clutched weakly at it. “Begone from me!” he gasped, backing away from her. She stared at him, terrified, her lush naked body trembling upon the filthy bed sheets, her rich dark hair askew; he saw the pins then, and realized she wore a wig. With a humorless laugh he flicked at it with the point of his sword and it skittered across the room; she clutched at it with a despairing cry; her head was close-cropped and gray. With her face turned from him, the spell was lifted; Legolas spun round, and fled as quickly as his feet could take him.
He scarcely knew how he gained the street, but bolted down a dark alley, his stomach roiling. He fetched up on his knees in the mud, Irmatenagar useless beside him, retching and vomiting, the diamonds in his father’s ring digging into the skin of his palm. He was gasping, dragging in his breaths like a drowning man, his head aching fit to split asunder and his eyes like burning coals. He could hear voices and footsteps, but was far too weak to even respond. To his relief he heard Kaimelas, and felt his valet’s soothing cool hands upon his forehead and bare shoulders.
“My lord! My lord!” Kaimelas said; he sounded panicky. “Lassah! Lassah! What is it? What happened to you?”
“Damn you to writhe in the lowest pits of Mandos in just agony; where have you been, you damned bastard?” croaked Legolas, retching again and clutching at his stomach. His throat was raw, and when he looked down at the detritus of his illness saw the muck was covered in bile and blood. “You were supposed to be protecting me – you and Gimli!”
“We lost you, my lord,” said Kaimelas; he put his arms round Legolas’ shoulders and hauled his lord to his feet, scooping up the sword and tucking it safely under his arm. Legolas lurched against him, his head spinning nauseously; he retched again, and Kaimelas held a handkerchief to Legolas’ mouth. “There was a crisis – “
“O save me; another one?” Legolas gasped and fetched up against a stone wall. He put his hands against it; it was cold and slimy, and he vomited blood. “What now?” he rasped, spitting.
“Our rooms are empty, my lord,” said Kaimelas, taking his lord in his arms, and assisting him down the alleyway. “Tamin and Bandobras are gone. We do not know where they are. They have vanished, my lord!”