Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

38. Flicker

"I am in love with him."

Confirming it aloud in the empty room causes the dam I have so carefully built to burst. Hot tears run down my cheeks. I am the world's biggest fool.

The harsh words I spoke to Gwendes were for myself. It is folly. Whether he lives or dies tonight does not change that he is bound to another, whether in the Woodland Realm or Valinor. I have chosen the impossible.

Afraid of enduring heartache again, I once convinced myself I was content in being alone. But Ada saw through my façade to the truth of my loneliness, and I did not wish to believe him. He was right.

My heart has acted of its own accord and betrayed me. Despite my best attempts, I shall suffer hurt again, this time more than I can bear.

I jump from my skin at an earth-shattering boom above the ceiling. Ornate bottles fall from the shelves and shatter, hundreds of glass shards glittering the dark floor. Dust fills the air and enters my chest, making me cough.

Is a cave troll trying to gain entrance? Or has it fallen into the rock face? I steady my breathing.

I hastily wipe away the wetness from my face and lock away my foolish heart. As deftly as I can, I step around the glass shards and scour the shelves and drawers for any sign of the healing herb. Athelas is best used when freshly cut, but I know of nothing better.

If there are survivors, there will be injuries. Even if it comes to us escaping through the trap door on barrel rafts, we will likely face some kind of peril during our flight. The Forest River alone is a dangerous creature. Having Athelas on hand could make the difference between life and death.

My stomach leaps when I spot the nondescript jar. Had it not been labeled, I would have passed over it. The herbs inside appear preserved, as though kept fresh by the powers of the Eldar. I clutch it to my chest.

I leave the storeroom and walk down the ill-lit passageway. A passing guard halts at my approach, and his curious gaze darts to the jar in my hand.

"You should not be out here, my lady."

"Have you heard any news?"

"Nay," he says solemnly. "Our time is short now. You must prepare to move quickly when the signal comes."

I nod and continue walking.

"My lady!"

His voice is a warning, but I do not stop, and he does not follow. Longing for fresher air and brighter light, I walk until I reach the cave's main hall. Thranduil's antlered throne stands empty in the distance, accentuated by a flood of golden light from above, as though its owner is only away for supper.

I have never seen the caverns so vacant, nor heard them so quiet. The stream's gentle trickle is the only sound, the usual murmurs and echoing footsteps from a normal evening absent. It is not until I reach the entrance when I hear muffled steel. An agonized cry sends shivers down my flesh.

A group of guards stand waiting, their weapons at the ready. One carries a large Elvish horn.

The boy with the horn notices me. "Find safety before it is too late, my lady."

I cannot recall his name, but I recognize his long nose and dusty-blond hair, and his rounded face. I have seen him dine with his father at the King's table.

"Has there been a signal, anything at all?"

He shakes his head. "We are in the dark. These caverns serve their purpose but keep us isolated. There is no choice but to wait. Tis the King's orders."

The King's orders. I know too well about them.

"Have you heard any clues from the other side of the doors?"

"Faint yells and steel, little more. You must have heard the crash into the rock face. What it was, I cannot say." His light eyes move to the jar of Athelas I carry, and his mouth turns downwards.

"It is for the wounded."

"Listen, my lady...you should not carry much hope for..." A shadow falls over him. "Return to your chambers and to your loved ones. We will do our best to hold them off, and give you time."

"And what of you?"

"I shall do my duty, my lady."

I swallow, my throat turning to sand. His fear is thinly-veiled. He did not expect death to come so soon...

I yelp as another boom rents the air, louder than the one before. I reach out to the rock wall for support. It sounds like thunder but feels like an earthquake. Pebbles fall from the ceiling and dust obscures my vision. My legs continue shaking even after the rumble echoes through the halls.

If Ada was worried about my whereabouts before, now he will surely be coming to find me. I wave my hand to clear the dusty haze. It is time to return to Lady Aethel's chambers and prepare for the river escape. Any flame of hope I carried has diminished to a mere flicker in the darkness.

I turn to cross over the narrow walkway, but take only a few steps when a resounding bang on the doors halts my feet, and my heart.

It is though my legs are stuck in mud to my knees when the bang sounds again, reverberating through every chamber in the cave, a louder warning than a horn could ever give. And again it comes. My spirit tries to flee from my body.

"They are coming through! Brace yourselves!"

I feel the fourth crash vibrate in my chest. With the fifth is the terrible sound of cracking wood. Why am I not running? My legs refuse to cooperate; my eyes cannot break away. I am struck dumb.

The guards' bows are taut, arrows pointed ahead, bodies tense. Any moment now the battering ram will burst through...

Another crash and more splintering wood. The young guard lifts the horn to his mouth to give the reluctant signal all is lost, and we must attempt our final hope: a trap door and the perilous river of Mirkwood.

But when another bang does not come, he keeps the horn poised at his lips, waiting a moment more. I hear muted shrieks and yells from beyond the doors, but it seems the battering ram has ceased its determined pounding.

I let out a shaky breath. Another moment passes, or a hundred, but there are no more attempts to breach the doors. The young guard looks at me, his face wet with perspiration, but his relieved smile rekindles the flame in my chest. There is still hope left.

I must tell Ada and the others the glad tidings, that our army has prevented the worst from happening. Not all our kin are dead. They are fighting still.

A Woodland horn suddenly blows from beyond the entrance. Thrice it sounds, each longer than the last.

It is a signal.

"Unbar the doors!"