Leventis ⚜ Thorin Oakenshield

Chapter 32 : Dungeons of Mirkwood

Casadon Erik's P.O.V

Pinioned and held at swordpoint. The company was guided to the gates of Mirkwood, bound by rope and dignity. Beautiful for so, disrespectful. Pillars stood tall and carvings curled gracefully into one another at top. Five gates were the real entrance to this Woodland Realm; the middle one was gate the company would enter through. We'll never make it to the mountain before Durin's Day if we're held prisoner here. Of course plenty of Elves perceive every move I make; from blinking of my eye to the clenching of profound fists. Legolas walks in front, leading the pack of elves, he Glaring potential daggers at the Elf, when he's not looking, made me feel joyous but rueful. They took my sword -Singollo's sword- they revealed my name; my real name; my birth name.

And for that... I seek vengeance.

It boiled steam in my blood. In my elvish blood. We were taken through wooden walkways of endless trees. The Woodland Realm. By my soul, I have not seen something as glorious as Harnil's glinting.

Someone unties me. I cup my wrists -they hurt me. Gingerly, I bit my plump lip before snarling at the Elf shove me into one of their puny cells, along with Balin. Sharing the rest of eternity with dwarf. He won't last long; what they carry out here, is worse than Azog. The jailer slams the cell door and locks it piteously. My hands are gripped around the bars of the doors. That are only light; are daylight for the next thousand years, because Thorin wouldn't tell the Elves the real reason why they were in the forest. Foolish, arrogant ass.

Many of the Dwarves threw themselves against the cell door. I hear the clanging that it makes as it echoes and echoes through the halls of Mirkwood. But they forget that these doors are not plain steel but are as strong as the bracers, Elrond gifted me. So why hadn't they taken them off me? Can they not see them, like I can?

"Leave it! There's no way out. This is no Orc dungeon; these are the halls of the Woodland Realm. No one leaves here but by the King's consent," Balin yells through the halls.

Indeed. We'll all rot. Except for me.

"Why did you come back, lass?" His question comes to my attention, for I am still clenching the bars of our cell. I pray that the rest of the company did not hear that question.

Why did I come back? I let go of the bars like I let Harnil fall into the hands of the elves. Turning to face him, I attempt to think of a reasonable answer.

"Because you were in danger."

"That's not it, Cas," Balin corrected. How would I even sense that they were even in danger? I only came back for the gold. The money and the riches that lay ahead.

It wasn't the right answer. I sigh and sit next the dwarf. The bench that was made from the same material as the walls.

"Things that happened long ago...Are coming back. And I don't know what to do, so running is my first instinct."

Balin breaths, but says nothing, "Coming back, made things worse, Balin," I continue.

"Ercassiel, is real name isn't it?" That name makes me shudder, "It's your Elvish name."

I nod slowly. That name sounds cursed.

"That's where you got Casadon from," Balin says.

"It was given to me," I reply, my voice sounding incapacitated, "By the Huntress."

"And do you appreciate it?"

"Yes," that name has gotten further than life, "tell me something."

Balin eyed me, closely, "Did you burn the contract?"

"I did not." A sign of relief -I will still receive money at the end, "but now I know why didn't sign you name...Because you fear you don't have one."

My gaze is turned from the dwarf to outside the cell. Thorin is thrown into a cell and the jailer walks away. He was speaking to King Thranduil, Legolas' father. I desire to know what happened with Thranduil. It clearly did not go to plan, as Thorin in back in cell. For a King -he should be equal to Thranduil, not below him. Not in the dirt where his expectations should be.

"Did he offer you a deal?" I ask the King in the dungeon.

"He did, Casadon. I told him he could go 'Ish Kafhfe ai'd dur rugnu -him and all his kin!" Thorin becomes angry when he said that. I am Thranduil's kin -not by choice- so Thorin will spit on my grave. Reassuring.

Balin closes his eyes for a moment and he sighs in frustration.

"Well...That's it, then. A deal was our only hope," Balin explains.

Hope could not save us. Its nothing without a spark -which do not have.

"Not our only hope," Thorin remarks.

"What are you saying?" I question. Curiosity consumes me.

"We have an elf," I look at Balin in confusion. He was talking about me. What does he planned?

Where was Bilbo? I had not seen the hobbit since we were at Beorn's house. I did not want to reply -Thranduil has spies lurk in the unwanted shadows here. But Thorin mentioned that I could get them out. He wouldn't understand. I am not, a mere wood elf. Far from it. I grab the bars of the cell once more, before saying:

"What do you want me to do?"

*

Heyyyyyy!

I'm alive and blessed with a cold, so I'm dying. This chapter is kinda short -which I like coz all the others were 'considerably' long. :) Hope ya enjoy this really, really, really, really, really, really bad chapter ... :)

BYE MOTHER-TRUCKERS