Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Eighteen: Secrets

Chapter Eighteen: Secrets—Thranduil

My anger broiled, barely subdued in the cold chill of the still atmosphere.

Her eyes were a stormy web, clear and yet veiled, grey coming over them as a cloud. Shoulders set and chin held high, she stood, a guard on either side. Her hands were behind her, but I could see the near imperceptible tremble of her shoulders—the unmistakable clench of her jaw.

And in the weakness of her anger would her fault lie.

Earandur stood by the wall, guards near to him. He fidgeted, as was his manner, but here there seemed to be a true object for his uncertainty. His eyes flitted left to right and left again. On the opposite side of the cell, Forven leaned against the wall, a slight hunch to his shoulders. One hand tenderly rested on one of his arms, where I knew a slowly healing wound to be.

I took a step toward Iaewneth, and then another, lifting my chin as my footsteps fell upon the hard ground. With every echo of my footfalls, the sound of impending doom seemed to rise, the steady pound of my heart woven in its rhythm. There was aught that I could say—but scarcely anything that I wished to. Still, my gaze lowered to hers, holding as a dam upon a raging river. The elleth's eyes darkened as I allowed a small smile to creep upon my lips, the glint in her eyes shifting to apprehension more than arrogance.

If there was one thing her capture signified, twas that our suspicions were not in vain. The assassin, Morinaur, had not acted alone. The capture of the elleth and ellon proved that the enemy was not impenetrable—something that we could use to our advantage.

Few traces of the heavens illuminated the expanse in which we stood. Only bare hints of moonlight trickled into the dungeons—vague imitations that could hardly be considered beautiful, for the shadows were too great; the light too small. Still, the shadows were music, tone rising and falling upon the walls, and with a breath of sodden air I spoke. "Did you truly think you could conceal yourself?"—a light chuckle—"Think that you would never slip?—never be found?"

She did not answer. Her lips thinned, despite obvious efforts to remain expressionless.

I continued. "Your name—Iaewneth? Is it truth or lie—another deception in your web or did you perhaps weave some reality into this empty fantasy?" When again she did not answer, my voice lowered as I bent nearer to her. "Your silence does naught for you. I have heard that you had a bountiful lot of words to say to and throughout the rest of the stronghold. What cause have you to silence yourself now?"

By the wall, there was movement—an agitated shrug or a disconcerted tremble. "Yes, that's her name, what else would it be?" Earandur breathed a sigh, full of less exasperation than confusion. Sudden realization seemed to come upon him then, as he belatedly added, "Er, um, your majesty, King, sir. She is my sister—you can believe me."

I might have turned to face him but for the intensity that held the room captively immobile. "Tell me then, can your sister speak? Or does she leave you to spin her tales for her. You've been inside these walls for far longer than she has; you know what she is here for—you're here for the same, aren't you? Is that the truth then?"

Earandur's breath hitched as I spoke. I knew him to be guilty of no charge but naivety. The elleth before me, however—

"No." Iaewneth gave voice to thought.

Gaze cast to the ground, a low rumble emanating from my throat, I raised my chin. "Oh, so that you will say?"

Her voice split the stillness as metal ringing upon itself. "I will say nothing but that which will protect my brother—he knows nothing, leave him be."