Storm Of Arrows ➝ The Lord of the Rings ✓

Part Five

PART FIVE ~

"My lord."

The guard's urgent tone brought Thranduil out of his thoughts, and he turned his cold gaze onto the elf bowing gracefully before him.

"Continue," The king ordered, raising an eyebrow impatiently. The guard rose, nodding slightly, and met Thranduil's gaze with his own concerned glance.

"My lord, I... I believe I recognise the woman. The woman Legolas rescued from the forest."

Thranduil's waning attention suddenly snapped in alarm and his eyes widened. His body suddenly jerked out of the throne, and he bent down until his face was mere inches away from the guard's. The elf didn't falter, nor try and escape the King's stern gaze, instead he continued in a more confident tone, knowing full-well he had grabbed Thranduil's attention, but it was still no less urgent.

"I believe she is a wanted criminal."

~

"What's your name?" The elf asked the bewildered young woman.

Her lips trembled as she stared at the she-elf, not uttering a word.

"I'm going to ask you again. What is your name?" Her tone became more impatient and stern, her cold blue gaze cutting into the woman's.

"Taryn," She mumbled, her head ringing from disorientation. She hadn't a clue where she was. Nor what was happening. Obviously she was in the company of elves; possibly Mirkwood. Yes. Mirkwood. Of course! The elf who had captured her was the prince. Yes. She recognised him now; he had strode through her village a few times before... before the attack.

"Right. Taryn." The woman nodded thoughtfully. "How are you feeling?"

Taryn was suddenly aware of the stiff bandage wrapped around her shoulder, restricting her movements. The throb of pain had ceased and only a few blood splatters stained the white material. She looked down at her attire, noticing she wearing clean clothing, though it was the same as her old outfit; of course, products from her village, such as clothing and materials, had come from Mirkwood.

"Fine." The answer was simple, but it seemed to satisfy the nurse as she gave another clear nod and turned to leave.

Just as the elf was about to step out of the door, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame Taryn and she stumbled backwards, letting out a gentle cry.

The nurse abruptly turned on her heel and raised an eyebrow at the gasping patient. "Obviously not. You need some rest."

Taryn nodded, allowing the elf to support her back to her bed. She climbed into the soft sheets, her ears still ringing.

The nurse's eyebrows knitted into a frown as she studied Taryn's state. Her face was shining with sweat, starting to take on a sickly pale pallor. Her breathing came out in short, irregular gasps. She certainly wasn't fine!

"I'm just going to take another quick look at that wound, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, and with the woman too weak to reply anyway, the nurse eased the sleeve of her shirt down so she was able to access the bandage and began unwrapping the cloth from her shoulder. It was odd how she had gone from feeling completely healthy, to being thrust into such a weak state. Her surroundings swam before her, and it took great difficultly to focus on the she-elf before her, bearing a look of horror as she stripped the bandage from her skin.

The wound itself was stitched up skilfully, with only a little blood oozing from the gash, but the skin around it was scarred with black, veiny lines that twisted and entwined to form a grotesque pattern along her shoulder. The nurse gasped in shock, and a new urgency filled her expression. The woman had been poisoned.

~

After being confronted by the guard, the King dismissed him and every other elf from the room and let himself fall back in his seat, deep in thought. He stretched his legs out before him, letting his striking gaze settle on the intricate tiling of the floor as he decided on a plan of action.

The answer soon became apparent, and Thranduil abruptly rose from his seat and strode out of the hall, his long gown, adorned with spiralling, entwining leaves that glimmered gold, billowing out behind him. His hair shone like a star in the dappled sunlight that cascaded between the vast pillars, but his gaze was harsh and cold, his lips set in a thin line.

He glided through the brightly lit corridors of his palace, and down a narrow staircase and threw open the door to the hospital quarters.

"Where is she?!" His voice was stern and brisk, and the hollow echo bounced off the jagged walls. "Bring her to me." His eyes widened impatiently, waiting for his demand to be obeyed at once.

The nurses flinched in shock slightly, but their expression remained straight, apart from a brief glimmer of fear that flashed through their eyes. The elf who had been tending to Taryn appeared around the corner, her stride confident and meaningful. She faltered slightly after seeing the wrath blazing in the King's eyes, but remained calm.

"Her wound is more serious than we thought. She has been poisoned. She needs to be treated, urgently, my Lord."

"Bring her to me now," The King commanded, his voice showing no sign of pity.

"She is sick!" The healer protested.

"I do not care!" Boomed Thranduil, a cold gleam in his eyes. "She is a murderer!"

~

A/N: I bet you guys are like 'Holy Freaking Hobbit!' Yeah. Probably not 'cause it says on the description.
Anyway. Wow. I've wrote a lot during this holiday. But I'm sure that's going to change when school starts again; my updates will be a lot less frequent.

I'll try and update 'Price of Battle' tonight, 'cause I know I didn't update yesterday.

I'm gonna revise now...

Please COMMENT and VOTE!

~ _imagine_fantasy_