Fan Fiction ❯ Fate of the Fires ❯ Sinner ( Chapter 17 )

Fate of the Fires

Part XVII: Sinner

Lady Mars

AN: I don't own LotR nor am I making ANY MONEY off of this...

***

Legolas sat in the darkened room, his father's sword laid out on the table with a small blue gem on a chain lying beside it. He had spent the last few hours like this, not really saying anything, not really going anywhere. The house staff had been floating in and out of the room and saw him sitting there, when he didn't move, they summoned Lord Elrond. The lord had spent many a long minutes staring at the prince who was staring right through him. Elrond could tell there was something stirring in the youth's head, but he couldn't snap the younger elf out of his trance. But nothing the elder tried got the elf to snap out of it. Other members of the Fellowship and of Elrond's family tried, unsuccessfully, to snap him out of it too. The elf was dead to the world. But what was worse was no one knew why he was like this. No one had seen him all day and when he did show up, he was dead to the world. This sat very uneasily with his friends, but they could only watch him and wait till he came back to reality. The elf's cold gaze remained on the wall; he was oblivious to the turmoil occurring outside. The area had been overwhelmed by a torrential thunderstorm. The lighting periodically illuminated the room, but the elf never moved. His mind was wrapped around one thought: revenge.

***

The man shifted quietly in the darkened hallway. He knew the elf was close, he could sense it. His blade glittered in the low light of the hall. 'The last one. Once he goes down, I will be rid of them all.'

***

Elrond sat looking at his sons and Arwen. The foursome had come to the elf lord worried about Legolas.

"You have to do something father," Elladan whined.

"If I could," Elrond replied. "I would have done so a long time ago my son. It disturbs me as much as you, if not more."

"More?" Elrohir queried. "Why would it bother you more?"

"Because this isn't the first time I've seen this happen."

"It isn't?" Aragorn asked.

"No Estel, it isn't." The elf lord got up from his chair and walked to the window, watching the rain fall in sheets. "I never told any of you this, all within good reason of course."

"Didn't tell us what?"

"You wouldn't understand Estel; you weren't here when it happened." He turned back to the twins. "Do you remember when Legolas' mother died?" The twins exchanged glances.

Yes, but what does this have to do with anything?" Elrohir replied for the pair.

"Ciele was my cousin." The twins stared at Elrond, dumbfounded.

"So…we're related to Legolas?"

"In a very round about way, yes. But that's not the point. It's the fact that I've seen Ciele act this way before."

"You mean like Legolas is acting?" Arwen asked.

"Yes. He truly is his mother's son."

"So what happened when she came out of it?" Aragorn asked.

"I don't honestly know. She left that day and a week later I received word that she had died." The four stared at him in awe.

"So you don't know what happened?"

"No. The only one who we think knows refuses to talk about the incident." The groups exchanges glances.

"And that would be who father?" Elladan asked. Elrond sighed, remembering.

"I'm sorry, I never told you." They exchanged confused looks again.

"Told us what father?" Elrond sighed; he hated digging up the past, but this needed to be done.

"The only person who witnessed Ciele's death: Legolas. He is the only one who knew what happened the day she died; what really happened. He never told anyone what really happened, so no one really knows. I do know he's hiding something from all of us, but I'm not sure what."

"So you think he's tormenting himself about that?"

"No. It goes far deeper than that. It's the resemblance between his actions and Ciele's. I know they are connected, but I know not how." The room fell silent again. No one really knew how to handle this situation, but no one really knew what to say about it either. Aragorn exchanged glances with his brothers and his wife before scanning the room. At the other end of the hall sat Macabre, his senses pricked at something. This struck the king as odd because he had never seen the hound do anything but sleep.

"What are you looking at?" Elladan asked.

"Him," Aragorn replied pointing to Macabre. "I've never seen him alert before. There must be something going on."

"Why do you say that?"

"He only wakes for food or a fight and Legolas fed the hounds yesterday."

"And that means what?"

"There is something going seriously awry," Elrond replied rising from his seat. "We must find Legolas and we must find him now." The elf lord strode from the room without another word. The others exchanged worried glances before following suit. From his spot on the floor, Macabre watched the elves leave, not heeding the commotion. The beast was more focused on the man who had passed the balcony a few moments prior. The animal dared not move for he knew what this man was capable of, but he had to move to get to his master before it was too late. After a few moments, the beast rose from his spot and took off towards the balcony. With cat like grace, the beast leapt over the railing and landed on the rain soaked turf below. He stalled a moment, waiting for the signal. The low howl of Devil echoed quietly over the thunderous storm. With a new fire in his eyes, the beast tore off towards the hall of fires, hoping he wasn't too late.

***

Legolas sat on the edge of one of the fire pits, turning one of his long knives over in his hand, casting long shadows on the floor.

"It's funny. One would think that after all this time all you would have to do is sneak up on me and in one clean, quick stroke end it all." Devil cocked his head at his master. The elf had been acting strangely as of late and it worried the beast. The elf tossed the blade into the air and caught it moments before it clattered to the floor again. "But that is not the case, nor shall it ever be the case. I am a lot smarter than you make me out to be. I knew you were here the whole time. It is not easy to remove the scent of orc of oneself, even more so when you are dealing with thousands of them. But what I need to know is why. Adhil and myself I can understand. We are the last of a dying breed. No, I am the last of a dying breed. There are no other full blood fire callers out there; your wife comes close, but she is no match. But why them? What did they do to you? What did they deserve this? You know as well as I that if you had killed me that day instead of her, you wouldn't have this problem." He tossed his knife once again. "But no, she had to die that day. But no, you couldn't just leave it at that. Your greed for the ultimate power drove you onward. My family, could understand that, but the entire kingdom? My realm? That was utterly preposterous. The people would have rallied behind me, but they would have perished just the same. But attacking them when they are defenseless, innocent? That makes you not better than the uruks that you rally with. But this is the end, the end of it all Thaurer. It ENDS HERE." The king stepped between the long, flowing curtains and into the dimly lit room.

"You are right, my dear elfling, but it will not be my life that ends." Legolas laughed bitterly.

"That is really funny. That reminds me of something my father once told me. He told me, 'Little one, there are some people who are impossible to beat: people who have drive, desire, and hope and sinners. Sinners have no remorse. They are like the good, but with more drive than the good. They can win because they have no fear. You need to know how to balance the two to become the ultimate warrior.' And you know Thaurer, I have taken those words to heart. And you lucked out today."

"Why? Am I facing the good?" Legolas snorted.

"The good died years ago Thaurer. You have lucked out because the sinner is going to make this a quick death for you."

"Sinner? You are no sinner child. You wouldn't know what a sinner is if you ran headlong into it."

"I wouldn't? So if I wouldn't know what a sinner is, then that makes me the good in this fight, wouldn't it? But that can't be true for with good comes a level of innocence and I have none. My innocence died with my mother." He tossed one of his knives again. The blade glittered in the fire light. "Do you know how long I have been living without innocence? Longer than anyone should. Sure I can fake it, I fake it very well, but that is no substitute for the real thing. But I can't get the real thing back now can I? But what does it matter to you? Once I am dead, you will have the relics you seek and will take over Middle Earth with out challengers." He tossed the blade again. "It is a good plan, but not without its flaws. Do remember that 15 devil wolves will stand between my dead body and you once I do die. And one alone cannot kill all 15 wolves, it is impossible. Plus, once you have the relics, how are you going to control them? They were meant for me and me only. I am the only one able to control them, so without me, they are utterly useless to you. So killing me will do nothing in your favor but end the line of fire callers. You'll never have to deal with us ever again. Wouldn't that just make your life grand? Useless artifacts and a line of dead pains in the ass." He tossed his knife again. "But I can't let you do that. My sense of moral and common decency prevents me from letting you gallivant around like you own everything. Or maybe that is the haunting voice of my mother whispering 'revenge' in my ear." He swung the long blade through the thick air of the room. "No, mother would never wish revenge on anyone, it must be Karnil. He was always one to extract revenge for any matter that cried for it. And he has been screaming at me since that day. Your poor soul, it will never be at rest once I am done with it. You shall never learn how to rest in peace, your soul will be in too many pieces to be at piece and you will deserve it. You deserve it for all the pain and anguish you have put me through. You deserve it for everything you have done to everyone." The elf stood up from where he was sitting; his long dark robes pooled around him as he stepped away from the fire. His hair was loosely tied back at the nape of his neck, his ever present braids absent. His eyes were dark, cold, unchanging in the low light of the hall. The elf gave off the aura of death itself standing before the lord. But this didn't unnerve Thaurer; the small, blue amulet that hung around his neck scared the lord more. He had seen this jewel before; he had seen its power before. The same glazed look that latched itself to this elf's eyes had latched onto another's hundreds of years before. He hadn't seen the elf herself, but the reports from the surviving orcs was enough to frighten the man back into hiding for years. And now that he thought it was safe, the beast had returned. The lord tried to stifle his fear, but it was too late: the elf had caught wind of the fear. "You are afraid; I can smell it. You don't hide fear well. But you know what; your fear makes this that much more fun." He spun one of his knives idly. The lord set his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Fear or no fear my boy, you shall get the fight of your life." The lord unsheathed his sword. Legolas swung his knives to the front.

"Good, I've been waiting for a worthy opponent." The lord lunged at the elf, but Legolas blocked with ease. The sword's blade and his knives clattered upon impact, sending a few sparks into the air. The blonde stared at his attacker through the cross of his blades. "You have good aim, but no strength to back it. You shall fall in the end." He swung his blades around quickly, throwing the lord's sword back toward him. Thaurer backed up a few paces, leaving a mild gap between him and Legolas. Neither of the pair moved for long moments; Legolas was more in tune to the heavy breathing of his hounds. The beasts had entered and were slowly closing in on the lord, but he knew that they wouldn't attack unless he gave the order to do so. This was his fight and he was going to fight it until one of them ended up dead. Legolas spun his knives till the flat edge of the rested against the skin of his arms. The metal was cool against his flesh. This was the only reassuring feeling he had during the whole fight; no one could defeat him while he had his knives.

At that moment, Legolas decided to really get the fight moving. He shifted the long blade away from his left arm and into the air as he charged towards Thaurer. He didn't realize his error until it was too late. His breath caught in his lungs in a short gasp when the pain flooded in senses like lightning; his muscles clenched and then slackened causing his two long blades to clatter to the floor. He hadn't seen Thaurer's blade and this proved to be a fatal error on his part. He felt the sticky blood flowing from the wound and soaking his robes, but it hit him more when the lord pulled the blade out of his side, tearing the mangled flesh more, and showing off the dark stain of his blood against the bright metal of the sword. Legolas set his right hand into the ooze that had pooled around the wound, his face going pale. He stumbled back a few steps, rewidening the gap between the two of them again.

"You were right when you said that I was a worthy opponent," the lord stooped to pick up Legolas' discarded blades. "But it never said I was a fair opponent." He tossed the blades across the room; they skidded to a halt in front of Mire. The hound scooted back at the sudden intrusion. All the rest of the beasts rose off their haunches, readying an attack on the lord. It took the utmost restraint to keep the restless beasts from attacking. "It seems you no longer have the upper hand in this fight for it is hard to fight wounded and weaponless." The younger elf balanced himself against the warm rock of the fire pit, still clutching the wound at his side. His breathing hitched as he tried to regain his composure. His thoughts were wrapped around this defeat when his fingertips brushed across a familiar object. Legolas slowly cracked his eyes and he stared at what he had found: his father's sword. He had forgotten that he had brought it with him. The blade shined in the fire light, but that wasn't what caught the elf's eyes. The scripture on the blade was now glowing a faint shade of blue. He slid his fingers around the end of the sword and slowly drew in towards him. "It is quite a shame that it has to end this way," Thaurer continued. "You were a worthy adversary, the most out of your family." At this statement, Legolas' blood boiled. He snatched up the sword and turned to stare down the other lord. The wound at his side throbbed, but he was determined to finish this once and for all.

"That's funny," Legolas whispered. "My father always viewed himself as a valiant fighter, but you wouldn't know that because you don't care. You've never cared, you have only cared about yourself and your greed. You petty values have ruined my life, but I still stand here today despite of it all. And wonder why? I know now, I know now why. It is my destiny to face you, to annihilate you. It was for told: 'The heir to the fallen throne shall rise to raze the destroyer.' That means you will not live to see the sun rise come the morn." The scripture had intensified on the blade. Thaurer now shrunk back; this was not what he had wanted to see. This was the same effect that the orcs had reported back to him thousands of years ago and now he was seeing it for himself. The elf, once again, drew upon this fear. "Your fear will be the end of you weakling. My power is stronger than you could ever perceive. I hope you have lived a decent life, for it ends now." Legolas' eyes blazed a blue fire. The younger elf raised the sword and charged; Thaurer blocked the attack and the two stood, blades locked, inches apart from each other. "At this point it doesn't make a difference if I make it or not, your chances of survival live only on prayers." The two untangled themselves in a flash. The thunder crashed outside the palace once again. The elder lord lunged at the fire caller again, but Legolas blocked, spun his blade back in the opposite direction, and dug into the flesh of the king's wrist. The king hissed and pulled his arm back, but Legolas didn't stop the attack. The elf swung his blade back around, dislodging it from the king's and swung it hard, digging it into the flesh on Thaurer's left side. The king countered by swinging his blade around and slashing across Legolas' left arm. The blood pooled from the would and fell to the tile floor, mixing with it's brothers and Thaurer's; the tile was becoming a pool of blood. Legolas pulled back, sliding in the blood. He knew that he had to end this soon or he would die before the king did.

"Loosing our touch fire caller?" The king chided. "Or just don't have the guts to fight back like the young one? He fled a futile effort that was." Legolas charged, his anger flaring again. Thaurer blocked the attack again and stared deep into the eyes of the other elf. "The other two tried their damnedest to fight off the orcs, but they too fell like the rest. Quite a shame, they would have made great soldiers in my army. But none fought as well as your father; seeing him fall was like removing the last thorn in my side. With him gone, the girl fell quickly behind, leaving you alone and helpless." In a move of pure rage, Legolas buried his sword into the soft flesh of Thaurer's abdomen. The blade tore through organs and shattered through bone until the tip extruded out the other side. The blood trickled out from both wounds as Legolas glared into the pale face of the lord.

""No orcan army can save you now; my justice has been done." He pulled his sword out of the other's body with a sickening squelch, a jet of blood and organ tissue following. Thaurer fell limp to the floor. "I hope you realize that revenge transcends death. And I have no pity for those who dare cross my family." He spun on his heel and walked away from the dead elf. He felt no remorse as he walked over to where his knives lay, but the moment he went to pick them up, his injury caught up to him and he too collapsed to the floor. The hounds all lurched forward, unsure of what to do. All that they could do was watch the blood pool around their master's limp form.

***

Aragorn dashed down the halls of the palace toward the hall of fires. He had check every other room at that end and still hadn't found his friend yet. ''I hope I'm not to late.' Aragorn shook his head to clear his mind of those thoughts; he knew he would find the prince and everything would be fine. The king took the stairs to the room two at a time and threw the doors open. The stepped through and scanned the area; everything seemed fine. The wind from the storm pulled at the curtains and the fires danced, casting long shadows on the walls; nothing seemed out of place. He sighed, another failure, but Legolas could still be else where. He had yet to check back in with Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond, and Arwen, so one of them may have found him. The lord spun on his heel and went to grab the door when a curt bark cut through the room. Aragorn snapped around to see the semi circle of devil hounds on the other side of the room. The ranger closed the gap between them in long strides and the beasts parted at his approach; he almost fainted at what they were guarding. Legolas lay in a pool of coagulating blood, barley breathing. Aragorn dropped to his knees and scooped his friend up.

"Legolas?" he asked shakily. The elf's eyes cracked open and he smiled weakly up at Aragorn.

"Estel…" he replied weakly.

"Legolas, hang on," the man stuttered. "It will be all right, I promise." Legolas smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry mellon-nin, I'm sorry." The elf fell limp again.

"Legolas?" the ranger's voice was filled with worried. "LEGOLAS?" The elf didn't reply. "FATHER!" The man's desperate cry echoed through the halls of the palace, but there was nothing he could do for the elf without assistance. "FATHER!"

***