Deluge (A Legolas Romance）

Riddles in the Dark

Chapter 2 – Riddles in the Dark

Fifty years later

In the desolate landscape of the Palace's lower levels, a pair of young elves were huddled under the shadow of an overhanging arch. They had been forced to press their backs against the rocks to evade the glow of lamps, and the steady trickle of water down the black underground stone was soaking their thin tunics. Neither of them seemed to mind this predicament, however, as they shared a glance of triumph in the blue shadows.

"They're gone, mellon nin."

"We can't be sure."

"Perhaps you're right. Do you still have the wine?"

There was a slight pause, and then some scuffling. "Ay, Dree."

After their whispered words ceased, the friends listened for further signs that they were in danger of being found. When they heard and perceived nothing, Legolas stood, slipping his fingers into carvings on the arch above them, and peered cautiously over the edge. "Dree, there is no-"

His sentence was cut off by his frightened intake of breath as the light of a flaming torch swept over their hiding spot. Legolas ducked his head sharply, reaching a hand down for Eroth to take. He pulled her up beside him and felt her breath by his ear.

"We can't run now," she hissed. "Can't you hear? They are nearing."

"Follow me. We have no choice."

Eroth opened her mouth to protest, but he tugged her arm and she scrambled gracelessly over the ledge. They crept over the arch and under tree roots, until they happened upon the opening of a flight of stairs.

The friends clambered down the steep steps in desperate haste, slipping on the wet stone slabs as they descended deeper underground. The menacing rhythm of the guards' pursuing steps stopped suddenly. They looked at each other and held their breath. After a few moments' hesitation, the guards seemed to have turned a corner and their steady tread faded into silence.

Simultaneously, the trouble-makers let out sighs of relief. Eroth turned to her friend, her eyes glinting from the distant lantern light. "Thranduilion," she whispered impatiently, "hand it over. Let me try it."

Reaching underneath his tunic, Legolas produced a small brown bottle. She snatched the object from his hands and removed the lid, pausing to study its liquid contents warily.

"Should I drink it?" she asked tentatively.

"No, Dree, you use it to water your lavender."

Eroth looked up darkly and he said nothing further. Lifting the bottle to her lips, she risked a sip – and choked in surprise. "You take a drink," she urged in consternation.

Her friend leaned over Eroth's shoulder. "It smells strange –"

"It smells like vinegar," a voice proclaimed coldly behind them.

The two companions started in alarm. A dark-haired ellon was standing on the steps. His garb was somewhat different to theirs, hanging loosely on his frame, and he was pulling at the frayed hems of his sleeve. Sensing their scrutiny, he bit his lip and lifted his chin, returning their gaze with an impassive look of his own.

They were pleased to note that he was roughly their age, and thus not righteous enough to report their behaviour, yet the hostile expression upon his features lessened their relief.

"What are you doing here?" Eroth probed.

The ellon looked away. "Visiting my father," he said quietly.