The Ghost Warrior [Legolas Fan Fic]

Chapter Nine

The following morning...

Glorfindel led the way to the cells in Imladris, Elrond, Thranduil and Mithrandir trailing behind. The ellyth had remained behind in the healing wing with Legolas in case he awoke, while the twins were with Erestor, continuing some work that had piled up due to all the excitements they had been having.

None of them wished to deal with this at the moment, but it had to be done quickly because at this point time was limited. One had to use it wisely.

Once they reached the main door to the location of the cells – there were hardly any cells in the Elven realm so it was just a small basement – a guard opened up the door, a grim look in his eyes. He nodded as the procession passed along, hoping that they would find something useful for everyone, not just the lords and ladies, wanted justice to be found for all the horrendous crimes that had taken place recently. After the elves and Maiar had passed, he reclosed the door, praying to the Valar that they would find something.

As the group walked down the stairs, a guard suddenly appeared at the bottom looking quite frantic, calling out "My Lord!" Glorfindel rushed down the rest of the stairs to meet the elf, instantly concerned.

"What is it?" Glorfindel asked.

"It is the prisoner," the guard began, "He seems to be ailing. We checked him over last night, taking all of his possessions, but for some reason he appears to be deteriorating quickly all of a sudden."

At this point, the rest of the group was behind Glorfindel and as the guard finished, Elrond pushed past them, grabbing the keys in the process as he hurried over to the cell that held Dûrion. When he reached it, he rummaged through the keys until he found the correct one, and unlocked the cell door.

The sight that greeted him was not pleasant. Dûrion was slouched up against the far wall, a thin trail of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were slightly glazed, his skin ashen.

Tossing the keys behind him, Elrond hurried over to the elf, kneeling beside him. As he checked over the weak form, he instantly recognized the signs of poison, but from what kind he could not immediately note. Glorfindel appeared beside him, fury clear on his face. Thranduil and Mithrandir stood within the inner door to the cell.

Suddenly, Elrond noted a slight bulge in the elf's tunic, hidden well within the right sleeve. He grabbed the fabric, his hands landing on an object that felt to be the shape of a vial. Quickly, he removed the vial, a wave of misery washing over him as he realized what Dûrion had done.

The elf had taken a fast-acting poison that would leave him dead in minutes. Elrond knew very well that this had been deliberate so they would be unable to receive much information from him.

Glorfindel, who had put this together as well within his head, grabbed Dûrion by his collar, yanking the elf up to meet his face. His voice was harsh, barely containing the rage the Balrog Slayer held.

"Who do you work for?" He demanded harshly.

Dûrion gasped, a bit more blood dripping from his mouth, seeming to catch his breath.

"I th-think you know v-very w-well who I-I work for." He responded weakly.

Glorfindel gritted his teeth. "Why did you attack the Prince? What do you hope to gain? What did Legolas ever do? Why would you betray your home and Lord? How could you kill fellow elves? What, what is the reason for any of this?" His voice was practically screaming towards the end, the rage overtaking him as he struggled not to strangle the elf before him.

Dûrion gasped once more, but this time it lead into a weak laugh, a hard glint appearing in the dying elf's eyes. With an unknown surge of power, he leaned forward, grinning into the Balrog Slayer's face, madness completely taking over.

"I can't believe you're all so stupid. Even after all this time, all these turns in the game, you still don't get it, do you? Hmm, I would have expected more from you all, but I guess I should have expected this. After all, you still don't understand what this is all about. That's your own fault then, especially when my Lord makes his most important move. Want to know why? Because that's when you lose everything, and you learn what it is like to suffer. Tis a shame, really, but what must be done will be done. It's only a matter of time now. You should have played the game more carefully, but even you have to lose once in a while..."

He broke off suddenly, coughs racking his entire body. Blood began to spurt out of his mouth, barely missing Glorfindel as the warrior threw him back against the wall. His form seized, his eyes rolling back. A few more shudders ran through the elf's body before he lay still.

Glorfindel and Elrond leaned back, looking at one another. Dûrion's words worked through all their minds, an ominous air settling inside the cell.

Mithrandir sighed from behind the two, watching as Thranduil walked out the door, his robes swirling behind him. Leaning heavily on his staff, he turned back towards the deceased elf, thoughts flying rampant through his mind.

It seemed there was still much more to come...

Did you guys catch the Flowey quote I put in there? I couldn't help myself... *grins evilly*