The Unexpected | LotR Fanfiction

Chapter 30

I walked stiff-backed out of the forest to find Gimli poking at the dying embers. Somehow his dwarf ears picked up on my rabbit-soft feet—ears of a hawk indeed—and gave a grunt of a greeting.

I didn't bother with a greeting of my own, no, I barely noticed his own welcome. The flash of a knife, spraying crimson, the age-old light finally going out in a King's eyes, kept playing over and over in my mind.

I took up a spot just outside the ring of warmth the dying fire emitted, the rocky soil digging into my back. But I couldn't bear to look up at the dark, early morning sky. I didn't want to have to look at the stars.

So, I turned onto my shoulder and ignored the sharp pain of a gruesome rock digging into my flesh.

The wailings of my people wouldn't go away. No, their cries of learning of their King's death only resounded in my ears.

In my mind's eye, I saw once again how some fell to the soil in their grief, saw little children placing flowers outside the fortress' walls, saw the gray mourning clothing billowing in the breeze.

Without their knowing, I had stood above them, watching with an unmovable body as they flung their shaking hands in the air wailing:

"May the King find peace in Mandos's Halls!"

"Where is our Prince? Where is he in our time of darkness?!"

"Who would dare kill the King of Greenwood the Great?"

"Does our Prince abandon us?! Does he leave us to our own despair?!"

Tears streaked my people's faces, although some held hate and anger in their far-seeing eyes. Did they abhor the King-Slayer? Or did they abhor the Prince that leaves them alone in this terrible time—me? I'm afraid I don't want to know.

My pale fingers clenching at fallen leaves and dirt brought me back to the clearing.

The others slept around me (minus Gimli) not knowing the greatest King of the age had been ripped from this world. If they knew, what would they do? Offer me condolences? Argue for me to head back to become the ruler my people need? Or will they say nothing at all?

They will say nothing—they do not care about you.

I shook my head against Morgalen's words, but I didn't deny it. Morgalen—the elf that is me but not. The elf that manifested itself when the Ring had taken control. He's the Greenleaf that has gone rotten—the Blackleaf. I didn't know if Morgalen had always been hidden in the deepest troves of my mind, created by my darkest thoughts and memories or if he had been manifested by the Ring.

But still, my eyes fill with the visions of my Father's death. They floated before me while my fellow elves cried out for a Prince that is not with them. Flashes of a dwarf with a sword embedded in his chest, a man with his head crowned with brown hair several feet away from his body, a young woman with star-white hair had a fountain of blood quickly soaking through the front of her chest came and went. Will my father be the first death of many? My head says yes while my heart screams no.

Hot tears leaked from my eyes, spilling over onto my cheek, rolling until they met the soil. My shoulders shook with barely suppressed sobs—I almost didn't care that I could feel Gimli's eyes set on my back.

I've already lost one parent, why did I have to lose another?! Along with mother and father, who else will I lose in this folly full quest? What follows the events of our future?

I did not dare let my grieving mind dwell too long on the thought.

Instead, I thought to Sauron. Once I stand before him in Mordor, he must protect my friends. He must protect my people and keep them from a political downfall until I find my way back to them. Until the crown of leaves and twigs rest upon my head.