Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

Revolution  by Laikwalâssę

Revolution

 


Chapter 14:  a plan is failing

 

Thoran was beside himself with fury. Nothing had gone according to plan. For days now he had been stuck here in these blasted halls of stone beneath the earth and was receiving only bad news. Yes, he had managed to lock up King Thranduil but that was the only important thing he had achieved so far.

He had used the element of surprise and that had served him well, yet he had not managed to subdue the warriors with his threats against their ruler; in fact they had completely removed themselves from his grasp. And he had a lot of difficulty forcing the palace staff into obedience. Only through constant blackmail and threats was he able to hold them in check.

Again he was waiting for his scouts to bring him news from outside the palace walls. To ward off the slowly passing time he wandered the halls of the huge area having some difficulty avoiding getting lost in the many twisting corridors leading in all directions. He could not help himself; he had to admire the beautifully structured building. While looking at the high ceiling with the sunlight streaming in you never had the impression of being underground.

Many times he had been in the capital while representing the southern settlements and of course had he often been in the palace during those matters, but never had he looked around like these days when he could do so undisturbed and unobserved.

However his rapture of this place quickly made way for his anger. He had misjudged the general attitude of the elves – Silvan or Sindar – towards King Thranduil.

Even if many elves did not approve of the King’s politics, this was obviously not reason enough to openly rebel against him. During the last years the King had ordered giving up more and more ground in the south and retreating ever further north from the growing shadow festering at Dol Guldur.

The settlers in the south had increasingly been attacked by hordes of orcs and wargs now freely roaming around the black hill. Many settlements could not be rescued when attacked directly and often the devastation was so complete that nothing remained of the 0settlements or the inhabitants. 

Thranduil had reasoned that there were not enough warriors to repel the ever growing number of orcs and simultaneously protect each settlement efficiently. The number of warriors was hardly enough to protect and guard the borders. The patrols were already much too wide spread to guarantee overall protection.

The only solution was to abandon the settlements and move the dwellings nearer to the stronghold within the circle of the Home Guard or at least near enough to be sufficiently protected by the border patrols.

Many elves, especially those residing farthest south had openly complained to him and even pressed him to act. They demanded their right to stay and fight for their homes. They wanted to organize a Home Guard of their own to fight off any evil threatening their settlements.

King Thranduil had not seriously considered their proposal, knowing how pointless the sacrificed lives would be. Yet the village leaders would hear nothing of this, stubbornly demanding their right to care for their families and homesteads.

The King had stopped these endless, and from his point of view fruitless, discussions with his decision to move the settlements north beyond the mountains to have a better strategic position to ward off their enemy.

Those who objected were free to stay but would receive no further protection from the patrols. This had inflamed the rage of the elves living in the south of the former Greenwood the Great all their lives even before the coming of their first king, Oropher. They were not willing to leave and no convincing from the King could move their hearts and minds.

Having become their voice of protest, and a Silvan elf himself, Thoran was sure of their support and had started this endeavour with the hope of influencing the Silvan elves at the capitol too. Many reports from fellow travellers from the King’s halls had even encouraged him to take this step.

So he had assumed that the predominant part of the elves here in the capital was as discontented as those in the south, and there he had erred greatly.

Although many were displeased with the decision of their King to give up the south, they now lived far away from these dangerous places in relative safety and had thus traded their way of life for a false promise of protection.

If he had not known better he would think now that these conspiratorial reports were faked to lure him out; maybe sent from the King himself to urge him to openly commit treason.

He knew that he had long been a focus of the King’s spies, but he was not stupid enough to openly speak against the King and to give him reason to accuse him of betrayal.

Had the King seen through his plot now and acted on foresight? His heart pounding he had jumped up from the throne he had been sitting on. Yet Thranduil would not have been this unprepared had he suspected anything he reasoned and calmed down again.

But, where were his supporters now? He had conspirators here, of course but he had been required to subdue or threaten too many elves into assisting him. Many from the south, sharing his opinion, had followed him and had made his coup possible but without the full support of all Silvan elves here in the capital he would not succeed. The native elves of this forest had lost their sting.

Shortly said, he did not have the numbers. He could hold the palace and its surroundings under control, he held enough hostages of the staff, the guards and even the warriors to ward off a direct assault, but this would not be enough either.

He had hoped to start a conflagration and come to the capital as a liberator but now he was only a usurper struggling to hold his position. He had not managed to motivate or convince the Silvan elves here of his ideas to not give up the south. Many had turned away and stood loyal to the Sindar upstart.

But if they thought he would give up so easily he would teach them a lesson. And all who stood against him should well remember his most prominent prisoner. If he didn’t succeed then the King would never see the daylight again.

Yet this prisoner infuriated him the most. He had attacked him mentally and physically day and night over many weeks now, had beaten him senseless, taunted him, let him have hope only to destroy it hours later, and had nearly let him starve but nothing had broken him so far. This had needed too much time already. For many weeks he had achieved nothing important. The longer he had to struggle to regain the upper hand the less likely it would be that he succeeded.

Nevertheless this treatment was taking its toll on his opponent. Thoran saw the signs clearly. Maybe in time he could break this stubborn Sindar elf. But again time was his problem and the capitulation of the King would solve nothing.

This did not end the stand off he faced. Too many warriors had slipped from his grasp. They were gathering somewhere to regroup and strike back, of that he was sure.

He grinned evilly. When they would try this they would experience a lesson they would not soon forget. He would sell his skin as dear as possible and many he kept here would die with him.

As he had come so far with his musings he realised that he had long accepted that he could never reach his goal to replace Thranduil. Too many, even many of the Silvan elves, had grown fond of their Sindar King. This he had also not considered.

But one thing he knew. If he could not achieve his goal then Thranduil would not succeed either and if necessary he would kill him with his own hands.

Before this, he would love to continue tormenting his captive. If he could only get hold of one of the King’s blasted sons. Thranduil would be so much more willing to cooperate then. Maybe he would surrender in the end, would abdicate in his favour.

The King’s victory would be a defeat if one of his sons had to pay for his stubbornness. On the other hand, where would the Kingdom stand without its King, its rightful King?

Thoran smiled again. Thranduil was not the rightful King. A Sindar elf could never stand above the much greater number of Silvan elves. They had lived long in this forest, long before even the moon and the sun had appeared. They had always lived in peace, not caring about the troubles of the world. Thranduil had to be removed. Then the world in its turn would forget about the elves in this forest.

Not realising how ridiculous his thoughts had become and that evil had long infiltrated their once peaceful forest, Thoran smiled to himself. Without Thranduil they could return to the life they had before any Sindar elf had appeared in the forest. Maybe they could even come to an agreement with the leader at Dol Gűldur?

Yes, that would work. Ignore them and they will ignore you.

Content with himself he sat back on the throne and thought about his next actions. He would make one last attempt to ‘convince’ the warriors to accept him as their new leader.

He had to make an example. And this time he would not make an idle threat.

 

To be continued……………………………





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List