The Truth Beneath the Rose

Weapon

How long had she been here? Hours? Days perhaps? She did not know. How could she in this dark, damp place? She had not slept, nor had she fed. She hoped for a rat, but even the rats avoided the dungeons of Mirkwood. She was weak and frightened. She cringed at every sound. Every time a guard would walk passed, she sank into the corner, praying the dark would swallow her up and take her away from this fowl hell. But it never did. She was cursed. There was no easy way out. Not for her. She wondered what would become of the Dwarves. Would they be released? Would they be sentenced to die? Would he make her watch? So many questions that would receive no answer.

Sitting in his own cell, Thorin waited for a miracle. He listened for her screams to return, but they never did. He feared the worst, in the beginning. But he knew Thranduil was far too devious to kill her in secret. He would use her against him. If he was going to kill her, he would make him watch. This allowed him to relax slightly. Bilbo was their only chance to escaped; his only chance to save her. He prayed that the Hobbit had not abandoned them. Two guards came upon his cell. Was this it? His heart grew heavy and he felt sick. "Come," one said. Numbly, he obeyed. He let them lead him. This time, they would not be returning to the throne room. He walked like the dead, unfeeling and callous. When they reached the armory, he was shoved through the door. It was a fair-sized room with stone floors, lit only by candlelight. Thranduil stood not ten feet from him. His back was turned. He appeared to be scrutinizing something.

"Leave us." The Elf-King commanded harshly. The guards bowed and took their leave. "What do you know of the Vampire?" He asked.

"I have already told you-"

"And you've already failed to support your lie. Tell me what you know." Thranduil said, still turned away.

"I know nothing." Thorin stuck to his story. Thranduil grew tired on his lies, but as much as he detested the Dwarf, there was a larger issue at hand.

"She possesses something of terrible power." Thranduil breathed. Turning, he held Nevaeh's sword in his hands. His eyes gawked at the blade. Thorin truly did not know a thing about the blade, or Nevaeh's connection to it. She never told them a thing about it.

"The sword?" Thorin questioned. "What of it?"

"It does not surprise me that you mountain men would be ignorant of the histories of other races." Thranduil remarked, smugly. "Potentes Dracul is it's name."

"And what does that mean?" Thorin asked.

"The Mighty Devil." He answered. "Did you know what the sigil of the Vampire is?" Thorin did not know. It was never taught for it was considered irrelevant information after the Cleanse. He was captivated now. "The dargon." Thranduil began his lesson. "It is written that long ago, dragons held dominion over Middle Earth, when the world was a much more savage place. Civilization was limited to villages and small clans and people. The Vampires believed that dragons were the most powerful beings in existence. The dragons were once the only thing that could extinguish the Vampires. Out of fear, they worshiped them. They made sacrifices to the beasts and performed rituals in hopes that they would be appeased. For many centuries, it worked for them. They lived in peace and harmony. But like all wild beasts, no matter how well you tend to them, they can turn. The tale says that the dragon, Radu, attacked the village of Vânători and brought the wrath of the devil with it. A young Vampire called Darius took up his sword and defeated the beast. From then on, Darius was declared the leader of his village and was believed to have the strength of a dragon. Word spread across the land and he became known far and wide as Dracula, the first King of the Vampires. Centuries passed and the Vampires evolved into civilized society. They built whole cities and fortresses across Middle Earth."

"Minas Noctis." Thorin muttered.

"Yes. He was the first to rule the city." Thranduil confirmed.

"And this sword belonged to him."

"This is the Mighty Dragon. It was considered a sacred object. They took the sword and covered it's hilt in white gold and decorated it in the finest gems. It became a relic and was revered by all." He paused and with a heavy breath, closed his eyes. "When hell flies and the heavens die, and shadows come out to play, When clouds burn and sunlight turns, and darkness turns into day, The light will yearn and the King shall return, and the power of evil shall sway." He opened his eyes and looked at Thorin. "That is the prophecy of this sword."

"What does it have to do with her?" Thorin asked.

"Darius was gifted, like many of his kind. But his gift was extraordinarily peculiar. None before him and none after, would ever possess his ability."

"But she does." Thorin assumed. "He could walk in the sunlight."

"I thought nothing of it when I found her many years ago. I knew she had a very unique gift, but I did not realize its importance until now."

"Perhaps it is only coincidence."

"I do not believe in coincidence. There are too many connections. A power such as this should not go unchecked. It needs to be harnessed." Thranduil said. Thorin eyed him suspiciously.

"What are you going to do with her?"

"She cannot be released. She will remain here until she can be used." Thranduil told him. "A darkness is growing, we will unleash her when the time is right. She is a weapon and will be treated as such."

"She is not a weapon. She is a person. You cannot keep her locked away like an animal."

"Keep her locked away?" Thranduil scoffed. "I intend to indoctrinate her, train her and use her against whatever evil is spreading in this world."

"A guard dog." Thorin bit out. "You can't do that to her."

"Why can't I?" Thranduil cocked his brow. "I already possess her. It would be nothing to wipe her slate and mold her into something more."

"She does not need to be more." Thorin growled.

"Should I remind you how pathetic she looked earlier?" He countered. "I am deeply worried if she is what is to protect our world. If she can't handle a lashing, I fear we are doomed."

"You will not get away with this." Thorin vowed.

"And how do you plan on stopping me while you're locked away in your cell?" He smirked and walked out of the door. Thorin was immediately detained and returned to his cell. His hope in Bilbo was never more crucial. Everything was in the hands of the Hobbit.