Chapter Fifty

Mordraug was very pleased with himself. Securing his initial power over the prince had proven to be somewhat harder than he had at first thought. More work would need to be done. Upsetting Legolas by talking to him was one thing. Making him do something he didn’t want to do was something else entirely. That had worked wonderfully well. He had just won a decisive victory in the battle for control of the young prince’s mind by making him destroy his beloved flowers.

The flowers themselves were of no importance. It was the act of their destruction that mattered. That idea had come to the dark elf just as Legolas had gone out onto the balcony. To Mordraug, it had been a brilliant stroke of genius. Nothing else he could have come up with would have dome more toward demonstrating to Legolas his ultimate defeat than that simple act. He knew the archer would be horrified at committing such an act of violence against a part of Nature that he loved. It was a smaller and more convenient version of making him chop down a tree. Perhaps, that could come later, Mordraug thought with a malevolent grin.

Now that his power had been solidly established, Mordraug knew that the remainder of Legolas’s fall into his clutches was only a matter of time. He noted with a perverse pleasure that the wood elf was extremely distraught and thus easy prey for the final push to gain complete control of his mind. After that was accomplished, Thranduil’s demise, and that of his entire family, would ensue. Then, his revenge would be complete.

Mordraug listened as Legolas wept, not only at what he had done, but more importantly, at the implications of it. The sound of any weeping elf, no matter who it was, filled the Avari with joy. It was like drinking a fine wine. And, he smiled to himself, because there was much more where that came from.

He considered all elves, other than himself, of course, as worthy only of domination or elimination. It bothered him not at all that immortals died, be it by his hand or another. Not one of them had ever cared for him. He certainly was never blessed with anyone’s love or even their friendship. Even among the Avari, he was an outcast. In none of his thoughts had he ever come to realize that most of his estrangement from other elves was his fault. He considered himself far above them all and had vowed that one day he would get revenge on those who had shunned him. They would either bow to his superiority or die. It was that simple and had become the single-minded objective that had sent him on the road to obsession and madness.

It had been the first time Mordraug had laid eyes on the vast beauty of Greenwood the Great that he vowed to himself that he would have it. At the time, power and jealousy had been his sole reason for wanting the throne of the woodland realm. After a while, he twisted his desire into the belief that he rightfully deserved to be its ruler. In the end, he had convinced himself that Greenwood belonged to him and that the House of Oropher had to be destroyed, for it was that elf, who had originally stolen it from him, and it was his descendents, who were still keeping it from him.

Now, his grand plans lay in shambles. He was dead. He had no body. He would never be able to take his place as the rightful King of Greenwood. As usual, he did not turn any of the blame on himself. The fact that he had angered the snake by betraying it until it killed him was totally overlooked. Mordraug blamed Thranduil for his demise. And, it was Thranduil that would be the ultimate target of his revenge. Being able to use the elven king’s youngest child to exact that revenge was just too sweet.

The dark elf turned his attention back to Legolas. He decided that it was better to leave the younger elf alone, for the moment, to ponder the hopelessness of his situation rather than to continually batter him mentally. So, Mordraug would now move back into the deeper recesses of the prince’s mind and just observe. He felt that whatever happened next might well turn out to be fuel for the fires of madness into which he was attempting to plunge Legolas.

~*~*~

Time for Legolas had blurred. He didn’t know nor particularly care how long he has been sitting on the balcony. He was aware only of the fact that he had finally run out of tears. He had, after a while, pulled his legs up near his chest and was resting his forehead down on his folded arms, which were atop his knees. He sighed deeply. Knowing that Mordraug was privy to every thought he had, Legolas made an effort not to think at all. Try as he might simply to banish his thoughts, he found that he could not shut his mind off. Too much had happened to just stop thinking. Even if he had, it would only have been a temporary reprieve. Thinking of something else wasn’t going to work, either. So, all that was left to him was to figure out his next move.

What was he going to do? What could he do? As he had explained to Estel, he couldn’t argue with Mordraug. That did no good. He couldn’t ignore him, either. That was just as useless. Mordraug talked to him, saying horrible things, whenever he chose. Legolas was content with one thing, however. Mordraug may have been able to cause doubt in his mind, but he had not managed to turn him against his father or his friends. *And he never will*, Legolas thought. Of that he was certain. Yet, the Avari had forced him to destroy his beloved blue flowers. Legolas would never have believed that possible.

The archer lifted his head and looked down at the plants that now lay on the balcony beside him. He had taken them from his lap and tenderly laid them there, when he had drawn his legs up to his chest. He had thought about replanting them, but knew that would have been a futile gesture. The roots were ripped apart, some remaining in the soil. There was not enough time left for the roots to re-establish themselves, because they were flowers that grew and flourished in the cool of spring and spring was now giving way to summer. Even with strong roots, they wouldn’t have been able to take hold in the rapidly warming weather. Knowing they would soon have withered and died a natural death did nothing to assuage Legolas’s guilt and shock at what he had been forced to do to them.

“I am sorry, my little friends,” he whispered, as he gently separated the flowers from their stems. There were a dozen of them, and he held them all in his cupped hands. Their velvety petals caressed his skin, as the breeze that still blew in from the garden swirled around them. He lifted them up to his nose and deeply inhaled their intoxicating fragrance. A sad smile crossed his face.

As he lowered the blossoms, he sighed. “Is this how it will end? Will I be helplessly holding my family in my arms, as they, too...” He violently shook his head. That horrible thought must have come from Mordraug. “It will not happen that way, evil one. You will be the one to die---again and for good!”

Mordraug started to say, *You do not really believe that.* But, he decided not to get into another debate just yet. He had decided to remain hidden, and he would continue that way---for the present. Not knowing when he would show up seemed to upset Legolas even more than constantly talking did. Mordraug would employ both methods to secure and increase his hold on the young wood elf.

~*~*~

With reluctance, Elrond sent all three of his sons out of his study. The discussion had continued in much the same vain as it had. However, no one had expressed any ideas. Elrond knew he wouldn’t be able even to begin thinking about a solution while looking at the faces of his forlorn sons. Their desperate looks ripped at his already torn heart.

He told them to go rest in their rooms, though that had been a suggestion, not a command. He had the feeling that wherever they went, it would be together. The elf lord was not surprised to see that Glorfindel did not follow them out of the room. In fact, the golden-haired elf had now come to sit in the chair in front of the desk recently vacated by Estel. “What are your thoughts, my friend?” Glorfindel asked.

Elrond sat for a moment gathering those very thoughts. Finally, he looked up. “I am thinking that we have a very large problem to solve.”

Glorfindel nodded. A puzzled frown crossed his face. “How can Mordraug be inhabiting the mind of another elf? That does not seem possible for someone, who is not a wizard.”

“I know,” the dark-haired elf lord said almost absently, though his mind was concentrating fully on the words of his friend.

“You mentioned the power of the mind earlier. I know that it can do amazing and even frightening things. I have seen it myself. But, do you think Legolas could be so deep into a psychotic state that he, unknowingly, caused himself the pain and dizziness Estel described?”

Elrond took several moments to respond. “It is possible. It would certainly make more sense than the alternative: that Legolas truly is ‘possessed’ by Mordraug’s spirit.” He shook his head and looked his long-time friend in the eye. “Yet, for some reason that I cannot begin to explain, I believe Legolas is not imagining this, nor causing himself this harm. I think that Mordraug has somehow found a way to return in the way that Legolas described to Estel, chilling as that prospect is.”

Incredible was Glorfindel’s silent reaction. Yet, he was neither surprised nor did he, for one moment, doubt Elrond. He turned the idea over in his mind and not for the first time, either. The fact that Elrond believed it gave a great deal of weight to the idea. How do you reconcile the fantastic with the normal? Does the word ‘normal’ even apply in this case?

Elrond smiled. “We have both lived a very long time, my friend. We have seen a great many things that defy logic. In a world where magic, both light and dark, exist it is often the unusual that becomes the norm.” Elrond looked down at Vilya. “This ring has incredible power. Is that normal, because it is a constant part of our lives here in Imladris, or is it abnormal, because it has the power to do things beyond our own abilities?”

Glorfindel smiled to himself. He could tell that Elrond was about to go off on one of his philosophical bents. They were always informative even entertaining in their own way, but he felt that now was not the time. So, very gently he steered the conversation back to the problem at hand, using something Elrond himself had said. “Do you think Vilya can be used to help Legolas?”

Elrond gave his friend a small smile. He knew exactly what Glorfindel had done. The blond elf lord was very clever and exceedingly diplomatic, though he could be sternly forthright, when the need arose. “I think that may be the only thing that can,” Elrond declared firmly. “What we have to figure out is how best to use its power against that horrible creature.”

Glorfindel hated to ask, but the subject needed to be broached. “Do you think we can destroy Mordraug without destroying Legolas’s mind in the process?”

“I have thought of that. Anything less is not acceptable. We cannot sacrifice the very essence of who Legolas is in order to destroy Mordraug, though knowing our prince, he would rather be sacrificed than let Mordraug continue to exist to harm others. Parting Legolas from Mordraug and sparing Legolas will all depend on the plan we come up with. We will have one shot at this and one shot only. Mordraug must be blindsided.”

“I agree, but Mordraug has to be aware that you know he has returned,” Glorfindel stated.

“Oh yes, I am quite sure that he knows.”

“And, he does not care?” Glorfindel tone reflected his puzzlement. It didn’t seem like a very smart thing for the dark elf not to care. He disliked Elrond intensely, nay despised him, but he was surely aware that the Lord of Imladris was much too formidable an opponent to disregard.

“No,” Elrond said in reply to Glorfindel’s question. “He is so arrogant that he does not think I, or anyone else for that matter, can defeat him. Remember, none of us could stop him all those centuries ago, when he showed up and began killing Thranduil‘s people. Nor did any of us stop him this time in the valley forest. It was his own snake that did him in, physically at least. Despite that setback he still believes himself to be invincible.”

“And, that will be his downfall,” Glorfindel stated, as sure it was true as he was that he was breathing.

“And, that will be his downfall,” Elrond echoed.

Both elf lords smiled at each other. Those smiles soon faded, however. They first had to figure out the exact plan for destroying Mordraug and freeing Legolas. Only when that was implemented successfully, could they even begin to be pleased with themselves.

~*~*~

Aragorn had accompanied his brothers to Elladan’s room, and even before the twins had time to settle down, the ranger had immediately begun pacing.

Elrohir leaned against the door after he had closed it. Only the inflexibility of his body pointed out, to anyone practiced enough to see it, that he was tense.

Elladan sat on the side of his bed. After only a moment, he said, “Estel, will you please sit down. You are making me nervous.”

Aragorn snorted. “You rarely get nervous, Elladan, and even rarer am I the cause.”

Elrohir laughed. “Estel, you are usually the main cause of it.”

The man glared at the younger twin but said nothing further on the subject. Had he not been so worried about Legolas, he most likely would have continued the banter. As it was, his thoughts turned in a darker direction.

Both of this elven brothers sobered, as well. Neither knew what to say first. Finally, Elladan started. “Estel, you were able to observe Legolas while he told you about Mordraug appearing in his mind. How did he seem?”

The ranger cast his mind back to the scene in the garden. He well remembered the archer’s tone of voice, his body language and the look in his eyes. “He was baffled, upset and frightened. I have never seen him like that, not even the time he remembered what Mordraug had done to him with the snake.”

Elladan frowned. “That was physical. I know how horrible it was, but I can tell you that believing someone is trying to take over your mind is worse.” The elder elf shivered, remembering a time, years ago, when a magician had tried to use mind control to turn him into a slave. He took a deep breath and offered his two brothers a smile. They both knew how traumatic that episode had been for Elladan, who never liked to talk about it. They respected those feelings now.

“I know this has been covered before, but are you absolutely positive this is not born from Legolas’s experiences?” Elrohir asked the question, because he wanted to be sure that was the case before proceeding. He felt certain he could trust his human brother to know the difference.

As expected, Aragorn’s head snapped up, and he again glared at Elrohir, in defense of his friend. “You think he is imagining all this?” His voice reflected real anger.

Elrohir held his hands out in front of him in a gesture of surrender, as he moved farther into the room, stopping near the ranger. “Please, Estel, do not take my question wrong. I am, in no way, implying that Legolas is not telling the truth. Except for always saying he is well when he is not, the elf does not know how to lie. I was merely trying to determine how likely it is that Mordraug is really back.”

“You must admit that it all sounds very implausible,” Elladan stated. “However,” he hastened to say before Estel became angry again, “I have seen things in my time far more far-fetched than this.”

“So, do you believe it’s real?”

“Yes, Estel, I do,” Elladan admitted. In his case, the magician had been a man, who had been killed and had remained dead. That was hardly the same situation as this one, so he pushed the memory back where it usually stayed.

Elrohir nodded his agreement, “Yes, I believe it, too.”

“Then, we must find a way to rid Legolas of that monster,” Aragorn said firmly. “He cannot go on like this for much longer. If you had only seen him in the garden.”

Elrohir shook his head, glad that he had not seen Legolas suffer any more at the hands of the dark elf. In an effort to offer hope, he said, “You know that Ada and Glorfindel are discussing everything right this moment, just as we are.” He smiled. “I have the feeling that they will come up with an answer long before we do.”

Aragorn couldn‘t help displaying the beginning of a grin. Knowing his father and Glorfindel, he didn‘t doubt Elrohir‘s words for a minute. “As long as someone does, I will be happy.” With that said, he headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Elrohir asked, although he knew the answer.

“I’m going to be with Legolas. He’s been alone long enough,” the ranger answered, making it clear by his tone that he would brook no argument. None was forthcoming but only because his brothers agreed with him. Satisfied, he left the room.

The twins nodded at one another, each knowing what the other intended to do. Following their human brother out of the room, they headed in the opposite direction toward their father’s study to find out what the plan of action was going to be.

TBC