Storm Of Arrows ➝ The Lord of the Rings ✓

Part Six

PART SIX ~

"What!?" The elf gasped in surprise, stumbling back from the rage vividly coursing through the King's rigid body.

"Yes. A murderer," His voice was dangerously calm, though it was clear he was still fighting to hold back his fury. "Now take me to her."

The healer gulped loudly and hesitantly turned on her heel, reluctantly striding down the corridor and leading Thranduil to the woman's chamber. She pushed open the door without knocking and marched into the room, the King hot on her heels.

The door shut with a light click behind them and the nurse backed to the corner of the room, watching with wide eyes as the King strode over to the bed, where the woman was resting, deep in a herb-induced sleep. He studied her carefully, before gesturing for the elf to remove the loosely secured bandage.

She obeyed at once, gently peeling away the thin material and exposing the blemished skin, marked with the horrid, black outlines that ran the length of her shoulder. The King's expression didn't change, he merely examined the wound, running his fingers along the veiny patterns and pressing lightly against it.

"She'll live," He concluded, wiping his fingers on her sheets before turning on his heel with a flourish, his long gown billowing through the air. "Call the guards."

The healer's eyes widened in horror. "You cannot-"

"Call the guards." There was no mistaking the warning in his tone, and she complied with his orders at once, rushing out of the room with her head bowed low before ordering for guards to be fetched.

They arrived seconds later, four elves clad in mottled green armour, striding down the corridor with their heads held high, chins jutting out proudly. They hurriedly entered the chamber of the injured woman and halted before the King, sweeping low before him in a graceful manor and awaiting orders.

"Take this woman to the dungeons."

The guards complied, asking no questions, not even flinching at the sight of her grotesque wound, now leaking a sickly yellow pus. One merely lifted the unconscious human from the bed and carried her in his lean arms as the other three aided him by opening doors on the way down to the cells.

"Hmm," Thranduil mumbled thoughtfully. "Now for a suitable punishment..."

~

Legolas' gaze settled on the scuttling spider before him, rapidly moving amongst the branches, spinning webs of persistent silk as it went along. A small smile tugged at his lips as he sent an arrow flying towards the oblivious creature. It fell to it's death in silence, and Legolas quickly bounded from his place in the shadows and followed the vibrations that resonated through the trees, alerting him of their positions.

The other two guards were also working diligently, wiping out any spider they crossed as they capered through the trees, letting their bowstring twang in time to their graceful dance. In a matter of seconds, two... three... four more spiders dropped into the hands of death, and the elves grinned in triumph as they claimed victory against the immense arachnids. Soon, half of the nest was depleted, but the trees above were still burdened with dozens of the scuttling beasts, sending leaves fluttering down in a whirlwind of foliage as they skittered along the wavering branches.

Legolas' supply of arrows was dwindling fast, with more than half of the quiver exhausted. He instead slung his bow back onto his shoulder and took to slashing at the spiders with his curved daggers. He gripped them firmly and thrust them through the air as if they were an extended part of his hand; staging a perilous dance; obeying their master's orders and throwing out deathly blows to anyone he willed. He spun past the beasts' quivering pincers, ducking and pivoting and swerving away from the provoked creatures, letting out a whirlwind of assaults when he got the chance. It was spectacular to witness; awe-inspiring, almost. To see such skill being performed in such a deadly situation.

Soon, all the spiders that had surrounded the Prince were now dead, their dark, inky blood pooling on the ground around their shrivelled forms. One was still twitching and writhing a few paces away from where Legolas was breathing heavily, wiping his bloodied blades onto the bark of a nearby tree, and he was about to put an end to it's misery when an arrow glided through the air and thwacked into the squirming beast, making it fall motionless.

The two guards shot out of the undergrowth and marvelled at the sight before them, before bowing respectively before the Prince.

"They're all dead," Tathar confirmed, followed by a clear nod from his companion.

Legolas nodded approvingly, an affectionate gleam in his eye. "You have been a great help. You're skills will be rewarded."

"No, my Prince," Said the other guard, speaking for the first time. "It was an honour to perform our duties and fight side by side with the Prince of Mirkwood. No reward is necessary."

Legolas nodded thoughtfully. "Then accept my thanks. We shall now return to the palace in the swiftest manner."

The guards nodded and began leaping through the forest after the Prince.

~

A/N: Hey, guys! I realised I've been updating this a lot more than 'Price of Battle'. So. I'm sorry. Idk.
Back to school soon, so I probably won't be able to update as frequently. But I'll try!

Please COMMENT and VOTE!

~ _imagine_fantasy_