Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Ten: Daggers

Shrouded in darkness, I waited. I had not expected the fight to be easy; rather, there had been no doubt in my mind that it would be a struggle. Somehow, though, I'd been convinced--we all had--that we would do it. That, no matter the cost, Eryn Galen would fall, and we would emerge standing over it. Yet, here we were.

Another attack.

Another failure.

The first times were not supposed to have succeeded. We were to raise their alert, keep them so on edge that they turned on one another, crumbling from within. At first, it appeared that our efforts would succeed, but now those attacks seemed so much closer to death than our actual attempts to kill.

The ellon before me droned on. "I am sorry, my lord, I did not succeed. There were too many, and I was not prepared." He paused, but after a moment's deliberation continued. "I escaped, however, and lost them in the courtyard. They could not see me in the midst of the warriors."

Ah, so perhaps they were not as resilient as some of the others recounted. The others, however, had completed their task. It had just not been enough. "Tell me, assassin, how many warriors were present at your attack?"

The ellon shifted uncomfortably, but kept a cool mask in place. Ah, so it was a game he wanted to play. "Of their captains, six."

I nodded slowly, taking out a dagger. As I shifted, moonlight filtered through the windows, propelling a shadow against the walls. The darkness moved eerily, shifting between the cracks and crevices, an illusion of beauty in the bane's lair. "Six captains, then." I flipped my knife above me, watching its airborne dance before it fell back into my palm. "The Sindar, of course, were also there, as were their guard, I assume?" At his confirmation I stepped out from where I stood, discarding my veil of darkness as I did so. "And you think that to be many? Too many to complete your task?"

A wary look came over the assassin, as his cloak fell around his shoulders. "As it fell, yes. Perhaps, my lord. If we sent more than one of us at a time, our task might be made simpler."

His voice was tentative, but steady. "Simpler, you say. Hm, I see. Assassin, do you mean to question my authority? Or, for that matter our leader's?"

His cloak shifted again, shoulders shifting in an unmistakably hidden action. A definite game that he had engaged in, one he undoubtedly would lose. "No, no, never, my lord. It will not happen again."

My knife's hilt was cold in my hand. "No, it certainly will not." In the same moment that I threw my weapon, the assassin's hand emerged from beneath his cloak, sword in hand. Before his blade could swing near me, my knife embedded in his shoulder, and the crash of his sword hitting the cobbled floor resounded in the room. His cry joined the metallic echoes, and I smirked, watching him stumble against the nearest wall. "For one who claims that he can act as an assassin, you truly lack stealth, don't you?"

I could nearly hear the clench of the ellon's jaw--the tightening of his fist. The room's tension thrummed. "My lord, saes--"

"Don't kill you?" Coming to stand before him, I gripped the knife, pressing my forearm to his chest. I breathed deeply, looked down, then met his gaze. "Do you really think I can do that now? Trust?" One smooth motion--that's all it took for me to rip the knife out and press it to his throat.

He trembled. "My lord..."

It was a pity. He was so respectful, most often, always careful of his words. "I do wonder if you were ever an assassin at all. I should be glad I did not send you as the spy, or we might have been foiled since the beginning." I pressed the knife, drawing drops of blood.

"Lord, saes, I beg of you don't--I--I can tell you more--" Desperate as he was, I senses some truth in his voice.

My eyes narrowed and I released some of the pressure on his neck. "Speak."

The assassin's breathing was quick. "The lieutenant, the prince's--he's always there. Ask the others and they'll tell you. We can almost take the prince on his own, but when the other comes we can do little. And to get to the king, we have to get to the prince, saes, believe me."

I'd known about the lieutenant, assumed the prince had one. We'd watched them on patrol, but I had thought that he would remain inconsequential. "Hannon-le, assassin. Your service has done us well, then." Relief shone in his eyes, but a sudden terror gripped his face as I smiled. I moved my knife--and he crumpled to the ground, arms folded beneath him.

I toed his unmoving form, looking for any signs consciousness. He wasn't dead, leastways not yet. In the present he may yet serve a purpose. A closer eye would need to be kept on him. Leaving the room, I summoned the other assassins, eager to hear their accounts. In the past, a constant throughout each of their accounts was the arrival of another elf, but could it truly have been the same one?

They each spoke.

Dark hair, piercing eyes, swordsman--all accounts the same.

I took my leave.

The wood-elves were watchful. The patrols came swiftly, but at the changing of the guard, I could barely slip through their defense. To the trees, I was just another of the Shadows. By the time the patrol slipped towards me, I would be gone, and even should they find me, there was nothing that they could prove of my intentions.

Grasping a low hanging branch, I leapt into the trees. Long ago, I had become deaf to their whispers, uncaring of what the fading creation had to utter. I was not, however, unobserving of the slight protest that the trees carried toward my presence. Their shaking, quivering--all a silent means of abhorrence.

A moment passed, and at last I was high enough. My sight to the stronghold's innermost walls was clear and I could easily see the flurry of activity inside. Such, however, was not my endeavor to regard. Instead, my gaze turned to the training fields. At any moment, he would come...

Leaves fell, the stars winked--and then he was there; they both were. One of sunlight, the other his shadow, the two shifted onto the grassy plain. Their movements worked seamlessly as they walked, the light haired shoving the dark haired in the same second that the dark haired stole an arrow from his companion's quiver, putting it in his own. The Prince feigned exasperation--the dark haired laughed.

I sneered, cold pleasure creeping into the air. The lieutenant we could adapt to, but he was still a variable, a hindrance. Something would have to be arranged and soon--I paused. The Prince cared for him. The King cared for the prince. One upon the other and the foundation could fragment.

First to fall would be the lieutenant.

Eryn Galen would crumble, and I would watch its ashes smolder. Smoke would bite the air, and the darkness would veil even the flames of destruction--the flames of lingering hope would perish.

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