Fan Fiction ❯ Lord of the Rings: Stargaze ❯ Mystery of the Woodland Realm ( Chapter 10 )

Mystery of the Woodland Realm

"Cold be hand and heart and bone,

and cold be sleep under stone:

never more to wake on stony bed,

never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.

In the black wind the stars shall die,

and still on gold here let them lie,

till the dark lord lifts his hand

over dead sea and withered land."

Moria was dark, a labyrinth of stone and cold, filled with shadows and the smell of death and rot. Goblins roamed the inner walls…and there was something else as well. Something waited down in the dark and the deep…Something terrible…something evil.

Arora shivered and pulled her dark violet poncho tighter around her body. Dwarves…of course the stumpy little creatures would have to live underneath. And of course the quest would force her down here. Down here where the sky was gone…the stars. There were no stars.

And it was so cold…

So very cold…

Up at the front of the line, Legolas walked silently just behind Gandalf. The old wizard was still leading them on by his memory, the crystal in the staff lighting the way.

Gandalf ordered for a rest after several hours traveling through the mines. The Fellowship wearily collapsed onto stones, all except the Elves and Aragorn, who remained standing. Legolas stayed by Gandalf, as Arora had wished him to.

Suddenly, Gandalf turned his head back to Legolas a few feet away from the wizard's spot. He smiled.

"Why don't you go guard the back of the Company for a while, Legolas. I'll be just fine here without you," he said half-teasingly.

Legolas was surprised, but he soon smiled in return. He turned to go back, but Gandalf had one more thing to say.

"Send Arora to talk with me, would you? Thank you so much."

Legolas nodded and trotted back. Soon Arora was on her way to Gandalf's side, still shivering, still looking pained and white, keeping her head down. Legolas watched her with concern, and gently touched her shoulder as she passed. She managed a grateful smile, but that was all.

"Yes, Master?" she asked softly as she reached Gandalf.

"I've been wondering about something for a while," the wizard whispered. He spoke in Elvish, and his voice was so low that none of the others could hear him. Arora suspected that there was magic involved in this feat, and appreciated him all the more for it. She waited respectfully for him to go on.

"It is nothing of great importance, mind you, but I am merely curious. And if it is not in your power of liberty to answer, I do not require one."

Arora nodded.

Gandalf straightened slightly, stretching his stiff back. "I have heard you and Legolas speaking together, about his family. I have heard the topics of his father, his mother, and his sisters."

Arora nodded and waited again.

Gandalf looked at her with one raised eyebrow. "Am I right in saying that Legolas has an elder brother? Khisanth?"

Arora closed her eyes and frowned, but nodded. "Yes, Master."

Gandalf noted the look. "Why do you never speak of him?"

Arora opened her eyes and looked at her teacher. She would never deny him anything he asked for, because she loved him like a grandfather, but she couldn't figure out just how to phrase this particular response.

"Master…Legolas and Khisanth…are not on the best of terms."

"Why is that?" Gandalf asked, looking generally surprised. "As far as I could tell, there was no reason not to like Khisanth."

Arora's night-blue eyes widened in surprise. "Y…you knew…Khisanth also?"

"Of course I knew him," Gandalf nodded with a smile. "You know I used to travel on horseback through any place that did not reek of evil. Once, my travels led me through Mirkwood. King Thranduil was generous enough to allow me hospitality and accommodations for the night. And during that time, I got to know their only child, the young Crown Prince, very well indeed."

Arora started to scoff at this, but her curiosity got the best of her. "What was he like?"

"He was quite possibly the most charming young Elf I have ever encountered," Gandalf replied sincerely. "He spoke to me very respectfully, and he was as sweet and polite as you could imagine." Gandalf paused, then laughed. "And I don't think those blue eyes of his could have gotten any wider when I told him of some of my travels!"

He chuckled. Then he noticed the look Arora was giving him. It was a mixture of shock and utter disbelief.

"Are you sure you met Khisanth, Master?" She was clearly skeptical.

Gandalf was not expecting this reaction. "Of course I did! Why do you ask such a question?"

"Well…Khisanth Greenleaf is no longer…as you say."

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "Is he not as kind as he used to be?"

"No."

Arora shook her head, and her face fell into shadow.

"He is insane."

The wizard stiffened. He was shocked. It was unbelievable…but Arora would not lie to him…would she?

"Are you certain? You are not exaggerating?"

"No, Master." Arora tightened her jaw. "He is out of his mind. He is cruel, malicious, hateful…but very clever. Brilliant."

She inhaled slowly.

"You asked, Master…why Legolas and I do not speak of Khisanth…" She hesitated. Gandalf couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It is because…they hate each other, Master Gandalf. Legolas and Khisanth truly hate each other. Legolas merely wishes for Khisanth to leave him alone…But Khisanth…he wants Legolas to die, Master…to go away and never return…to suffer, as he himself suffers in his madness…"

Gandalf sat in silence, brooding on this information, his face a blank mask. Khisanth…the Crown Prince of Mirkwood…insane? He had never…in all his years of wandering…heard of an Elf just going mad before.

Because she trusted him as all Night Elves trusted those they chose to guard, Arora let spill everything that had been rumored and told about Khisanth since she first met him.

Apparently, the transformation had started soon after Legolas was born…

~*~

Everyone assumed it was because Khisanth was jealous of the attention his baby brother got. His actions certainly seemed to support this statement. The Prince showed absolute contempt, often not short of hatred, for Legolas, and it only grew as time passed. Soon, and still, Legolas could not even look at his brother incorrectly without suffering injury.

At first, Khisanth simply seemed to be selfish. But the madness grew. His ice blue eyes had dark rings under them, and his tone of voice was harsh and empty of kindness. And sometimes…very unusual…he would seem to have some sort of fit.

He would act as though he suddenly felt a splitting headache, writhing in agony, and stagger as quickly as he could manage into the nearest secluded place. Others had seen this, and it never failed to frighten them. At first, they had no idea what was going on, but now it was attributed to the fact that Khisanth was insane.

But it was not the insanity of a lunatic.

It was the insanity of a mastermind.

The first clue was that Khisanth could hide it when absolutely necessary. He hid it from his parents. They had no idea of the full extent of their eldest son's permanent `bad humor'. When Thranduil or Lauranna were present, Khisanth would be the perfect cynical, sarcastic gentleman. He would even be polite to his brother…but it was all a cleverly disguised trick to create anger and self-doubt in Legolas's mind. People might have said something, but they were too afraid of what Khisanth would do to them if they did.

But Khisanth's private world was his own personal hell.

He was trapped inside the twisted corners of his insane subconscious. The burning poison in him blinded him to the willingness his brother used to have to form a great bond with his big brother…The inner fire that burned his mind made him incapable of love…feeling it…returning it…He lived a half-life…a cursed life…and everyone who knew thought that no one deserved it more than he…

Except one.

Khisanth, who used to be the pride and joy of his father and mother, and the heart of his people, had no family. His parents were alien to him, his brother hated him, and his sisters were frightened of him.

Except one.

The oldest of the five sisters was the one different from the others.

"The eldest sister…" Gandalf murmured. "I believe I've heard you speak of her. Erelya, was it? What is she like?"

"Oh, Erelya is wonderful, Master," Arora said sincerely. "She is friendly and kind and beautiful as summer."

Erelya was certainly the most intelligent of the sisters, the only one who was not preoccupied with hair and clothes and boys and her own vanity. But it was because she was so smart and gentle and sweet that no one could believe that Khisanth was her favorite brother.

Yes. Khisanth was her favorite. No one could figure it out. Erelya said it was because she believed that he was really good deep down inside, and that he could be saved.

Erelya said that she had once seen in him a tiny spark, in his eyes a fire of hope and a plea for help. It was only there for a split second before his hard, emotionless expression glazed over again, but she knew she was not mistaken. There was something wrong with her brother, something that mere insanity did not stretch to cover.

But of course no one believed her.

~*~

"Why does no one believe what she says about Khisanth?" Gandalf asked his apprentice.

"Master, don't you see?" Arora replied. "Erelya is so loving and generous that she would plea for Sauron's innocence if she thought there was some good in him. And the fact that the insanity is in her eldest sibling, the position that normally deserves reverence and admiration, just adds to her crusade to save his tormented soul."

At this point, Arora seemed to go pink and her eyes darkened, and Gandalf knew that the discussion had gone onward for longer than she had intended. So he sat in silence, staring into space and reflecting on her words.

Insane…twisted…demented… he thought, shaking his head. The Khisanth I met could have charmed a rabbit from its hole. What could have changed him thus in so short a time?

~The Royal Chambers of Mirkwood~

A voice echoed in the darkness, soft and mocking, gentle as a breeze.

You nearly got me into a lot of trouble back there. One would almost think you were trying to uncover me. But you wouldn't do that to me. Little Elf-prince.

Then another voice, quiet and pleading, was heard.

Please…leave me alone…

Leave you alone? Ha! You invited me inside, don't you remember? So long ago…long ago…

You lied to me…you tricked me…

Yes…I did do that, didn't I. But this is what you wanted. Isn't it? This is what you asked me for.

I did no such thing…You tricked me…you…tricked…

He will be out of the picture. Your parents will love you again. Or rather…they will love me. You have no control anymore, Elven Prince of Mirkwood. The voice grew cold and cruel. You are mine now. You will always be mine. Because…you are weak…and I am strong…And when Legolas is dead, I shall move to other quarry…in the body of one they used to love…

No…I…won't…let…you!

There was a great blow, a mighty flash, a shriek of unearthly pain and rage. Then there was a whirl of a great power. Wind and cold…flame and ice…Green life and golden light giving way to darkness…

I never wanted this…

~Later~

Erelya approached the closed door into the Royal chambers. She turned the cool handle and opened the great door into the green and golden rooms.

Khisanth lay on his stomach in the middle of the floor. He was unconscious.

"Khisanth!" she cried in fear and rushed to his side. "Khisanth! Brother, wake up!"

Khisanth groaned thickly, his long and naturally-tousled blonde hair falling in front of his face as he tried to push himself up. He nearly collapsed again in the effort, and Erelya immediately went to his aid. There was a thin trail of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

Erelya helped her delirious brother onto a cushioned long seat. It resembled a couch with one rest and no back. She laid him out on the seat and cleaned the blood from his mouth. Khisanth's body was limp and his eyes were shut; the dark circles under his eyes seemed deeper.

"Erelya…" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "My sister…"

Erelya leaned in closely, her eyes wide with worry and care. "I'm right here, Khisanth. What is the matter? Please, brother, tell me…I want to help you!"

Khisanth's head began to sway back and forth. Erelya was afraid he was gearing up for another attack on his mind…his eyes were clenched tight…

Erelya grasped her eldest brother's hand. "Khisanth, listen to me…listen to my voice. Come back. Come back…let me help you."

Khisanth's strong hand tightened gently around her fingers…

Suddenly his eyes shot open and he sat straight up, blinking as if surprised.

Erelya was relieved. "Khisanth, you're all right! What happened to you?"

Khisanth's blank, icy eyes turned to his sister and he seemed to see her for the first time. All of a sudden anger flared in his gaze and he wrenched his hand away from hers.

"Don't touch me, you stupid girl," he growled. "How dare you presume to aid me?"

Erelya was shocked. Her sky blue eyes were hurt. "You…Khisanth, you were unconscious! I wanted to help you! I still want to help you!"

"I do not need your help!" Khisanth snarled, jumping up from the cushioned seat and backing away from her like a trapped animal. "Stay away from me! Do not meddle in that which you don't UNDERSTAND!"

His shaking hands caught the doorknob, and he pulled it open and disappeared into the hall. Erelya was still on her knees beside the couch.

She covered her face with her hand, ashamed of tears that did not come, but were inside her. She cried not for herself, but for the pain that she had glimpsed in her brother's maddened eyes…

He does not mean it…Oh my brother, what twisted horror your dreams must be…

A/N: Hmmm. A secret revealed. It seems there is more to Khisanth than meets the eye. What do you think, my dear readers? Is there some hope for him yet?