Chapter Nine

Dinner that evening was somewhat subdued. The four elves and one human that sat at the main table in the dining hall were all very happy with the fact that Legolas had finally awakened. It was hard to dampen that euphoric feeling, but the almost somber countenance of the two oldest elves seemed to come close to accomplishing just that. It confused the elven sons of Elrond. On the other hand, Estel’s conviction that Thranduil was taking Legolas home to Mirkwood was easy to understand.

Finally, after a particularly long silent spell, Elrohir asked, “Ada, why are you and Glorfindel so quiet? I know you have to be happy that Legolas is finally back with us.”

Elrond regarded the youngest twin and nodded. “Yes, of course, we are very happy at such an occurrence. It truly is a blessing to have him back.” The joy that Elrond’s words conveyed, though genuine, soon faded, and he fell silent again.

“But?” Estel asked. He had no intention of letting his father off the hook that easily. “Something is wrong. You’ve been hinting at it for several days now, with all your cryptic little remarks. We think it’s time that we knew what is really going on.” It was easy to know who the ‘we’ was he referred to. He stared hard at his foster father.

“I want to know the answer to that myself,” came a strong and obviously unhappy voice from behind Aragorn.

All heads turned to see Thranduil approaching the table. No, one was surprised to see him. They were, however, surprised to see that Legolas walked beside his father. The younger elf was dressed in dark blue leggings and a long light blue silk shirt that almost reached his knees. He wore soft leather shoes. His hair had been pulled back and put into the braids he normally wore. The elf looked slightly paler than usual, but he was not unsteady on his feet. Still, Aragorn made a move to stand up with the intention of offering him help to the table.

Legolas gave a small smile to his friend and waved the ranger off. “I am fine, Estel.” At the ranger’s look of doubt, the elf said, “Really. I am fine.” Aragorn didn’t entirely believe him but decided against making any comment.

Legolas and his father sat down between Elladan and Aragorn, who had moved to make room for them.

The King had not been all that pleased to have his son leave his bed so soon after such a long confinement and try to participate in the forthcoming discussion, but Legolas had once again shown his stubbornness and refused to be left behind.

Legolas’ strategy had been to turn Thranduil’s own words back on him. He had reminded his father that he had just told him he was an adult. As such, the younger elf had said he was fully capable of making his own decisions regarding himself. He had made that decision, and he was going with or without his father‘s permission. End of argument.

Thranduil had no choice but to relent, short of tying his son to his bed. The thought had occurred to the elder elf and may have been acted upon, if he had even the slightest belief it would have worked.

“Elrond, before we get into anything else, I want you to tell me why you took so long to notify me that my son was unconscious and no one knew what was wrong or how to help him. I am his father. I should have been told immediately.” Thranduil’s voice, though low in volume, was angrily accusatory. His eyes, the same blue-gray as his son’s, were blazing.

“It wasn’t my father’s fault,” Aragorn spoke up, knowing that sooner or later, he would have to make that admission. “I was the one who didn‘t want to let you know right away.” He looked evenly at Thranduil. “I wanted to wait until after Legolas woke up.”

Thranduil’s earlier thought of thanking the human for helping his son just went out the door. He turned his cold glare full on the ranger. “I hardly think you did that for my peace of mind. You had no right to make that decision. He is my son!”

“Ada,“ Legolas said. “Please do not do this. Estel did what he thought was best at the time. You know that no one in all of Middle-earth can match Lord Elrond’s healing powers. Estel wanted to give me the best chance to recover.”

“A lot of good that did you,” the King responded, his anger beginning to mount again, though it certainly wasn‘t directed at his son. “He could not do anything for you, could he?”

“I believed he could,” Aragorn said defensively.

Thranduil pointed a finger at the ranger and in a voice as cold as ice, said, “You always get my son into trouble. Stay out of his life.”

Elrond, his own anger flaring, now felt the need to defend his son. “That is unfair, Thranduil. The world is a dangerous place. Our children are always at risk, when they go out into it. Estel and Legolas both accept that risk. Estel has been injured many times, and I have never tried to blame Legolas for any of it.

“No one was more upset by what happened to Legolas than Estel. He stayed with him, feeding him, bathing him, talking to him to try and bring him back. He even put him out on the balcony every day so he could be in the open air and the sunshine. No one did more for him than Estel.

“As for waiting to notify you, I am the Lord of Imladris. The final decision was mine and mine alone. Do not blame my son.” Elrond spoke with a dangerous edge to his tone that matched Thranduil’s own.

As Elrond had spoken, Legolas had looked at his best friend. He had just heard, for the first time, some of the things that Estel had done for him. He couldn’t help but smile and nod. Aragorn returned the smile.

Then, Legolas looked at Thranduil. His expression was hard, though he knew that his father’s anger stemmed from feeling left out. His look softened. “Ada, I told you I am alive and awake because of Estel. He is and always will be a big part of my life. There is no more to be said on that score.” He cocked his head, almost daring Thranduil to continue his criticism of his best friend.

Thranduil knew that any further attack against the ranger was futile and would likely end up in an argument with Legolas. He calmed down, not willing to risk any harsh words with his son. “All right, I will bow once again to your choice of friends, because that is what you want.” he conceded with a sigh, though his tone clearly said he didn’t understand it.

The elven King looked directly into Elrond‘s dark eyes. “I will not pursue what is between us any further---for now. But, know this, Elrond, it is far from finished.”

Elrond nodded. He hadn’t thought for a minute that is was. Thranduil would have the last word on this or any other situation, no matter what. Elrond had learned that much about the woodland King over the centuries.

Thranduil’s eyes never left Elrond‘s. “You were about to answer a question for us.” His voice was cool but his anger seemed to have passed.

Elrond had known that none of his sons would let the matter of what was going on rest for long. Now that Thranduil and Legolas had joined them, he knew the time had come for answers. He looked toward Thranduil, as if to say, ‘Are you really sure you want Legolas hearing this right now?’

Thranduil, who had picked up on the meaning of the look, nodded. He wasn‘t sure at all, but no one else was going to know that, nor would they know that Legolas was here, because he hadn‘t been able to keep his son away. “Proceed,” he said curtly.

Elrond took a deep breath and steeled himself for what he was about to say. For the moment, he ignored his sons and Legolas and looked directly into the eyes of the woodland King. “Mordraug has returned.”

Thranduil just stared across the table at Elrond. He was taken totally by surprise. The previous angry look on his face had been replaced with...horror. He lowered his head and stared at a spot on the table directly in front of him. Unconsciously, he reached over and took his son’s hand in his. Slowly his head began to shake back and forth. “It cannot be,” he said, not knowing that was the exact same words that Glorfindel had uttered the day before in Elrond’s study.

Legolas asked the obvious question. “Who is Mordraug?” He had the distinct feeling that this Mordraug had something to do with whatever had happened to him. However, the name meant nothing to him and judging by the looks on the faces of Estel and the twins, they didn’t know any more than he did.

Elrond said, “Mordraug is an Avari.”

“An Avari?” Aragorn asked. He had heard tales of these elves, but he had never seen one.

When he expressed this fact, Elrond nodded. “You would not have, Estel. Most Avari disappeared from Middle-earth long before your birth. The few that are left rarely ever have anything to do with the other peoples of Middle-earth.

“As for Mordraug himself, we thought he had been destroyed almost two thousand years ago.” Elrond’s face became a mask, as he attempted to keep it from reflecting his inner turmoil. He never thought he would be discussing this subject ever again.

Elladan said, “The Avari are the ones who never answered the call of the Valar to go to Valinor, right?” He remembered reading about these elves years ago. The details escapted him right then, but he was pretty sure about this fact.

Both Elrond and Glorfindel nodded in unison. Thranduil was still staring at the table. Considering the intensity in his gaze, it was a wonder he didn’t bore a hole right through the polished wood.

“All right,” Aragorn said. “We have all heard or read the stories. The Avari were tuned to the dark paths and often did harm to the other Eldar in earlier times. So, what is it about this Mordraug, in particular, that has the three of you so worried? Is he that evil?”

“Oh, yes,” Glorfindel said. He was trying very hard to keep a tremor out of his voice. What he could not keep out of his voice was pure hatred. He looked at the ranger. “He was one of the worst; mentally twisted beyond recognition. His heart became more corrupted than any orc’s ever could.”

“Ada, what did he do that made him so feared?” Legolas asked. His father hadn’t responded to anything Elrond or Glorfindel had said. The archer frowned, because he had rarely seen his father react this way to anything. He seemed to be lost in a world of remembered pain, and a dread had begun to grow in Legolas’ heart.

The young elf also felt a tiny prickling feeling at the edges of his mind. Had Mordraug been that evil thing in the gray world? He still couldn’t grasp the memory, yet he had to force down the fear that was rising within him. Legolas asked, “What did Mordraug do to the Eldar?”

An expression of dread passed between the Rivendell elf Lords and the King of Mirkwood. It was a look that no one at the table missed.

Elrond took the lead. “Mordraug quite simply wanted to rule the elves of Middle-earth. He started with Greenwood the Great, because he believed that it belonged to him by rights, having been ruled by his uncle in the distant past. Then, Oropher and Thranduil brought their people there and settled among the Silvan Elves. Mordraug was determined to destroy both of them. Oropher was killed in the Battle of Dagorlad during the Last Alliance before Mordraug could act. However it happened, Oropher’s death suited his purpose.”

The elf Lord looked at Legolas, a sympathetic expression in his eyes. “When Thranduil took the throne, Mordraug was more determined than ever to destroy him.” He hesitated a moment.

Aragorn took that opportunity to ask, “How did he plan to do that?”

Glorfindel took up the tale. “Mordraug schemed and planned but never had the right resources at the right time to be able to fulfill his plans. Then, one day in a dry stream bed, he found a clear amber-colored stone that held the tiny body of a black snake inside. He, of course, thought the snake was dead, but he kept the stone, turning it into a medallion, because it was so unique.

“Not too long after that Mordraug was thrown from his horse, and the stone shattered on some rocks. Immediately, the snake began to writhe and grow. When it reached a length of three feet, it crawled up Mordraug’s leg and then wrapped itself around his left arm. It has been there ever since.”

“What does this snake do exactly?” Elrohir asked. He was pretty certain it wasn’t just an ordinary snake. “It surely has to have some kind of special powers.”

Elrond said, “Once it allied itself to Mordraug, it took on his will and did his bidding. It was the elf’s reward for freeing the snake. It‘s poison became infused with Mordraug‘s evil intents. Whatever Mordraug wanted, the snake‘s venom would accomplish.”

“How did it work?” Elrohir wanted to know. He, like everyone else who didn’t know the story, was fascinated.

“The snake’s venom would drive the mind of an elf into darkness and their bodies into unimaginable agonies of fire and ice. Most victims lasted only a few hours and in some cases a few days. But in the end, they all died, because that‘s what Mordraug wanted to happen. The torture they suffered was just a twisted pleasure of his.

“When the poisoned elves were found, their muscles were so contorted they had broken their bones. Their bodies were twisted into horrible disfigured shapes that were sometimes hard to recognize. Their faces reflected the absolute agony their bodies had gone through.” Elrond looked at Legolas, who was staring at him. “Mordraug’s message was delivered.”

“But, he did not kill me,” Legolas finally broke his silence. He was now convinced that Mordraug was behind what had happened to him. “I was not tortured, at least I do not think I was. My body certainly was not broken. Why?”

“Al the others were warnings,” Thranduil said. All eyes turned to him. “He wanted to let me know that he was coming for me. Then he was stopped, for good we had hoped.

“Now, he has chosen you, Legolas, to continue his terror. He wants to keep you alive, so he can be assured that this time I will go to him.”

Aragorn looked at his foster father. “How do you all know these things about Mordraug and his snake?”

Elrond looke back at his human son. “We were all there.”

TBC