Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Nineteen: Fear

Chapter Nineteen: Fear—Legolas

My eyes wandered—ever watchful, ever wary.

The thin red line on Caneir's neck dripped slowly, blood staining pale skin as a quill's tip upon parchment.

I might have winced in sympathy if not for how closely my movements were being watched. Every breath I took seemed to be pondered, scrutinized, examined. Should I so much as make one movement that aroused suspicion, I feared what consequences may be imposed—what they may do to my warriors.

My hands were tied behind me. The uneven ground dug into my knees. I missed the comfort of my quiver upon my back.

We had been lured into a trap, as flies to a spider's web. Mindless and haphazard, we had ventured into a place we should never have gone. Such might cost us more than we were willing to pay, more than our lives—we might have staked the peace of the realm upon our own carelessness.

And I had led the charge.

Our captor had left for a what I assumed to be a short time. So had he said, but somehow I did not trust the word of such a traitorous, scheming elf. My nostrils flared as I breathed deeply, struggling to not jump to my feet and shout a thousand curses to the elf that claimed to be me kin. As I did so, I felt a trickle slip over my lip. My tongue tasted blood, and I realized that it had yet to cease bleeding since the... disagreement I had had with my uncle apparent.

"My father has no brothers. You are no kin to me."

He leaned near to my face, his breath whispering against my neck. "Ah, blink and you'll miss it, nephew. Don't you know recall you dear uncle Duvainor?—oh, my mistake, you were but an newborn elfling at the time. Tell me, do you know for certain that your mother clung to no relations?"

I spat at his boots, a glare hardening my face. "Do not disgrace my mother with such accusation. You soil the name of Queen of Eryn Galen—" I took a breath but then a pain exploded across my jaw, colors dancing across my vision. I stumbled back, hearing an outcry of voices, my warriors voicing protest. Before action could be taken, I regained my footing, motioning for my warriors to calm. There were too many to fight. Patience would be our only weapon now.

"Me? Disgrace my sister? Nay, tithen-caun, not I. Your father, though"—he clicked his tongue—"your father seemed to face no trouble when it came to pressing a knife to her skin, watching the life drain from her, drip by drip. Do not speak to me of lack of respect—your father has performed the greatest disgrace. Even if I were to keep you as ransom, I doubt he'd offer a jewel to get you back. Looking at you now, I do wonder if you are my sister's child."

I stiffened. My heart thumped.

"Oh, do not feign surprise, tithen-caun. There must have been some reason that your father murdered her. And yet your eyes... tis a pity. You have her kindness. If only your father did not have a heart darker than the forest he has failed to protect."

"You'll regret this."

"Regret what? I have done little yet. The true sin has yet to come."

I shook my self from the past, but not from the emotions that they had branded upon my memory. I had no doubt that lies were woven into Duvainor's very existence had been twisted to bear near no semblance to truth. Somehow, though, there was something in his falsehoods that was fringed with memory. Something that I had seen—heard?—many years past.

The whispers. Rumors. Shadows. Those that believed that my naneth had not been lost to the darkness of the forest but to an evil that lurk much closer to the kingdom's heart. Her death, by the hand of the king—my adar. There was more alongside it, more of those that might have doubted my heritage. I had always paid them no mind. I still would. Though my adar's life was not void of cruelty, never would he raise a hand to the innocent. But this strange elf's speaking...