Storm Of Arrows ➝ The Lord of the Rings ✓

Part Thirty-Five

PART THIRTY-FIVE ~

How can you help me? Taryn inquired after guiding herself safely back to her quarters.

What is the problem to start with?

My friend lives in Mirkwood, but I've heard Uruk-hai discussing his capture in the forest. I need to warn him, but it's a three week journey on foot. I need to get there quickly.

The witch remained silent for some time.

I can transport you there. But it'll require a great amount of effort.

Taryn faltered. Would it harm you?

Another pause.

I don't know. But I'm going to try anyway. I have nothing left to loose.

Taryn felt a sudden sadness for the being inside her head. What is it you want? She dared herself to ask.

To bring peace to another who has suffered hardship. To protect those who have been already suffered harm. I will do all I can to aid you.

Taryn nodded to herself. Just as Elrond had said.

Are you ready? The witch's shrill voice rang through her thoughts. She quickly grabbed her bow and daggers, attaching them to her gear, and sucked in a deep breath.

Wait. Before we go. What is your name?

Merialeth.

Then, before another word could be thought, a strange sensation took hold of Taryn's body and she felt herself start to float, as though she was no heavier than a feather. And, still basked in a beam of golden light, the room around her faded into darkness.

Her eyes fluttered closed and her body became weightless.

The next thing she saw were leaves; green foliage cascading from the boughs of twisted trunks, tangling into her hair. Merialeth's presence had dissipated, and she felt a brief moment of panic for her safety. But the witch had known the risks, and felt the worry subside for a moment.

She had to warn Legolas! She didn't heed the fact that she could be executed; she was solely focused on saving the one person who deeply cared for her.

Brushing down her clothing and untangling the leaves from her hair, she set off in the direction of the palace, towering solemnly in the distance.

The trek took almost half an hour, and Taryn was feeling a bulb of doubt blossoming in her chest. She really hadn't thought this through, but it was too late now.

How was she supposed to get into the palace? Perhaps being recognized as the prisoner could be used to her advantage; she may be taken before the King, and then his son.

Sucking in a deep breath, she approached the guards at the gate. They didn't seem to recognize her, however, so she merely stated the reason for her arrival.

"I've come bearing news of an attempt to capture the Prince Legolas by a band of Uruk-hai," she said in a flustered tone, holding her breath. Would they believe her?

The guards glanced at each other anxiously, unsure of how to respond.

"Get Tathar," she heard one of them whisper, and hope flared within her. Tathar would surely believe her!

"Please wait here."

She nodded and tried to control her breathing, coming out as shaky gasps in her anticipation.

Finally, Tathar's familiar face poked round the gate, his expression one of stark bewilderment.

"Taryn!?"

She nodded hastily. "Legolas is in danger!"

His surprise was quickly replaced with desperation and he gestured for her to follow him. She pushed past the objective guards, though not unkindly, and bolted after Tathar.

"Where is he?" She asked, struggling to keep up with the elf's large strides.

"In the throne room."

As soon as they reached the alluringly adorned doors through which the King and his son resided, Tathar called Taryn to a halt.

"You can't go in there! The King will instantly recognize you!"

She shook her head defiantly. "I don't care. He'll wonder where you sourced this information. I might as well tell him myself!" She insisted, already inching open the doors.

Tathar huffed. "Fine. But don't blame me when the King executes you on the spot," he muttered. Taryn payed him no heed and yanked the doors forward, stumbling in after them.

Thranduil and Legolas jolted out of their skin as the doors slammed open with a resounding clash, and Taryn shot into the throne room.

"Legolas!" She cried, ignoring the rage and anger boiling under Thranduil's piercing eyes. His shoulders were heaving and his lips were quavering with a protest, but his son beat him to it, bolting away from the dias and to Taryn in utter confusion.

"Taryn! What the hell are you doing here?!"

The shock subsided and a slight anger flared in his eyes.

"There are Uruk-hai headed here to capture you and possibly attack the palace," she blurted in a single breath, willing the Prince to believe her. He had to!

"What?" He cried, his breaths rolling from his mouth in irregular gasps. His face seemed contorted in a mess of panic and shock, anger and confusion.

"In Rivendell... I overheard Uruk-hai discussing their-"

"Arrest this woman!" Thranduil suddenly boomed, his voice harsh and venomous, rasping from his throat in an unearthly hiss. Taryn felt hot tears prick at her eyes. No, he had to believe her! "How dare you, a prisoner sentenced to death, come charging in her like some animal, claiming to overhear a band of lowly orcs discussing my son's capture. Do you really expect me to belive you, a murderer?!"

The King's voice spoke dangerously low now, his cheeks flaring red in his anger. "You will be executed immediately! Tathar!"

The flustered guard bolted into the room, holding a stern gaze. "My King, you are mistaken."

"What?!"

"Ada, please. Listen. Taryn is no murderer. A witch of some sorts resides within her; she killed the elf, not Taryn."

The King paused for a moment; an unnerving pause, in which he gazed calmly at Taryn in silence. Then he erupted with laughter; a dry, humourless cackle that made even Legolas cringe.

"You think... I'm going to believe that some... witch... possessed this girl and made her kill an elf?!" He asked, glancing skeptically at each being in the room. Somewhat of a bemused expression flanked Thranduil's face, and he collapsed into his seat. Taryn her knees buckle underneath her and she fell to the ground, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks.

"Kill her!" Two guards instantly stepped from the shadows, dragging their bows from their shoulders. But before they could slide and arrow from their quiver and knock it to their strings, Legolas collapsed in front of Taryn, holding a pleading gaze.

"No, Ada. Please," he whispered. "I love her."