Title: Descent into Darkness Author: Nnylaci (nnylaci@poetic.com) Pairings: A/L, A/A Rating: R Summary: Arwen’s discovery leads to tainted intentions. Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.R.R.Tolkien. The author makes no claim to any of the characters portrayed herein, and claims no remuneration for her work. For entertainment purposes only, no infringement is intended. Warning: Darker themes, Character Death Authors Note: This is my first LoTR fanfic. Please let me know what you think, good or bad. Many thanks to my muse, my editor, and my friend Shuva. Descent into Darkness Arwen walked the halls with an elfin grace only known to her kind. The morning errands had been swept away and only plans for dinner awaited her approval. Heading towards the grand kitchen, she paused momentarily as soft voices caught her attention. “My eyes have seen a great sight this morn,” a servant girl sighed, her voice raised barely over a whisper. “An elf methinks, as fair as our Queen-“ “An elf in Minas Tirith?” another soft voice interrupted, voicing the very thoughts of the Queen. “I spied him in the gardens, as I fetched the morning flowers. A vision of a dream- braided hair, golden as the sun, sapphire eyes. An air of royalty followed him, even though it seemed as if he preferred solitude.” Arwen gasped slightly and withdrew from her hiding space, the description sparking the memories of one of her long and dear friends- Legolas. She shook her head in denial; he could not have graced his presence here. He had been rumored to be traveling abroad with Gimli. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing one of her kind after so long, and she yearned to be among her people once more. Sighing quietly, she seemingly glided down the halls towards the royal chambers, feeling a subtle relief as she reached the room they had had remodeled and redecorated to suit the comfort of an elf, open and spacious with a balcony that overlooked the gardens. She smiled, remembering times of happiness with one of her oldest friends, and secretly hoped that he had come. As she reached out to knock on the door, a stifled moan whispered from beyond, causing her to pause momentarily and study the bleak wood that separated her from the elfin guest chambers. Her breath quickened as she placed her hand on the door handle and gently eased it open, praying to Valar that her intrusion would go unnoticed. True to her wishes, no one had witnessed her arrival. Another passionate moan echoed within the chamber walls and she pulled the door closer to her, scared of discovery, and even more, of what she might discover. She froze, her heart aching and her mind reeling at the possibility that may lie before her. Drawn inevitably towards the source, she hesitantly peered through the narrow slit of the open door. Her breath caught within her throat as she stared at the scene in front of her, a site that was naught what she expected, despite her foreboding. Her feelings flared with intrigue and anger. “Ai-“ she gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth to quench a greater outburst. Unable to will her eyes away from the unbelievable, she watched as two lovers continued their passionate embrace. Limbs were entangled; she could barely distinguish the two from one to the other. Pale elfin skin radiated against the tanned human flesh, creating an illusion that held her with a magnetic force she could naught repel. “Legolas! “ The stifled moan, a cry of passion that lingered in the air as she noticed the depth of passion in her husband’s voice, a tenor that she had never heard moaned before. Eyes narrowing, she felt her insides wrench with the cruel knowledge that she had never felt the same degree of passion and sensuality from her king. “Aragorn-“ Legolas answered with an equal cry of lust and ardor. Arwen turned away, closing the door behind her as their climatic cries ambushed her senses. The feeling of shock overwhelmed her. The king of men and a prince of elves were lovers- her mind raced and her heart broke at the thought that her husband, her king, had loved someone other than herself. “Do I not mean anything to him?” she whispered to herself as she fled down the halls to the safety of her own chambers. Collapsing on the bed, she placed her hand on her abdomen. Absentmindedly, she began to rub her hand in small circles over her unborn child, her son, and heir to the throne. She gasped as her actions confirmed an underlying fear. “An heir-“ she began, placing both her hands on her abdomen. “The one thing he can not give him-“ she mused. “The one reason I am here.” Shock and thoughts of betrayal, were quickly replaced by those of jealousy. “I want the love he has shown him- the touches, the caresses, the lust, the passion they shared as they ravaged each other. All things I fear have naught felt,” she mused aloud, feeling the rage burn within, and closed her eyes, breathing slowly to ease the exhaustion that was seeping into her. All the while trying to think of a way to rid herself of a certain elf ~ Arwen blinked at the offending sun’s rays as she reached over to her husband. Feeling nothing but cold sheets, she turned her head towards the vacancy, memories of the previous night flashing before her eyes. She searched in vain for signs of him, aware that he spent the night with him. Anger urging her on, she dressed and walked quickly towards the lovers’ chamber. She opened the door slowly and peeked in. Her heart sank and she felt the rush of tears as she gazed at the still sleeping lovers. Wiping away the few stray tears, she turned to leave, but stopped suddenly as she noticed Legolas’ bow and quiver of arrows tossed carelessly aside. Arrows specially designed for a prince- a gift from the king a few years ago. There was naught need for arrows in times of peace- were they a memento of their nights of passion? Spurred by jealously, she grabbed one of the finely crafted arrows and left the room. ~ Tucked away in the garden, she took out the arrow and examined the fine craftsmanship. The point of mithiril made the arrow strong and deadly. She brushed the tip of her finger across the sharp edge and drew her hand back quickly, wincing with pain as a scarlet drop of blood appeared on her fingertip and slid down her palm. She stared hypnotized at her own blood. She knew then what she had to do. Clutching the arrow close to her body, she gazed across the garden and studied the window that led into his room. She waited. ~ He sighed as he touched his lips lightly. A smile graced his features as he thought back on the night’s events. He did not know, when he won over the elf’s love, but he never questioned it. For elves only truly love once in their lifetime. It began as an affair of convenience, a way to relieve the stress and the sorrows that tormented them during the quest for the one ring. Slowly, it grew into something more- a love that neither could deny. Alas, it could never be- a king and a prince. Naught when an heir was needed. They decided it would be best if he honored his betrothal and wed Arwen. He loved her, but he never felt as complete with her as he did in the arms of Legolas. They had tried to stay away, thinking it would be best. He still remembered the night Legolas showed up in his study one night, surprising him. Since then, they could no longer deny the desires of their heart and soul. Even though the secrecy slowly killed him within, he knew that it had to be this way. He sighed once more before returning to his paperwork, counting the hours before he could see him again. The door swung open and he looked up at one of the younger guards in his command. “King Elessar,” the young man began as he rushed into the room. “There has been an attack.” “An attack?” he cried as he jumped up from his desk. “When and where did this event take place?” “In the royal gardens-“ he managed to reply. “Someone has dared to attack within my own grounds?” he growled. “Who is the culprit?” “We know naught,” the guard stammered. “Only the Queen can shed light on this-“ “The Queen?” he gasped. “What of Arwen?” “She is the victim of the attack,“ he replied as the king paled. “Does she live?” he questioned, his hands trembling at the thought of losing his Evenstar. “Barely,” the guard answered his eyes on the ground. “The healer is at her side and requests your guidance.” He nodded numbly and followed him to one of the healing chambers. The aged healer awaited him at the door, a grave look upon his face. “How does she fare?” “Not well,” he replied. “She lives only due to her elfin heritage. The blood loss is great- I know naught if she shall live through the night.” He frowned at the news and glanced through the doors, “might I have hope that I shall see her this next morn?” The healer sighed and gravely shook his head from side to side. “I know naught. The heir that grows takes her remaining strength-“ “The heir?” Aragorn gasped as he turned quickly and walked through the threshold. His heart ached at the sight it held. “Arwen,” he sighed as he rushed to her side. A soft moan came from her lips as she tried to blink away the veil of sleep from her eyes, “Estel-“ she whispered as her eyes focused onto his. “Arwen,” he sighed as he pulled her into his embrace, taking care not to harm her further. He felt the burning of tears as he cradled the fragile body against his. “Shed no tears for me,” she whispered faintly as she ran her hand across his face. He stared blankly at her, not realizing he had tears in his eyes. “We will prosper.” A smile flickered across his lips at the admission of her words. “An heir?” he smiled as he traced the outline of her face with his fingers. She simply nodded, taking his hand and resting it on her abdomen. “I am sorry, I denied you the truth-“ “All is forgiven,” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed her with a passion that even surprised himself. Arwen gasped at the intensity of his kiss, and smiled. He placed her gently back down onto the bed, “how do you fare?” “I fare well,” she replied as he continued to tenderly stroke her abdomen. “You have forgotten, that I am an elf-“ “I would never dream of it,” he smiled as the shadow of the healer loomed over them. “She needs to rest, my lord-“ he interrupted as Aragorn nodded in understanding, but not willing to leave her side. “Have they found the archer?” She questioned as she watched for her husband’s reaction. “The archer?” He repeated, his eyes narrowing slightly. “The weapon of choice was an arrow,” the healer explained. “One of the guards holds the evidence.” Aragorn sighed, his mind racing as he processed the new information. “Who would have done such a cursed deed?” “I know naught,” Arwen sighed as she covered his hand with hers. “If naught for my hearing, the arrow would have found its true aim,” she whispered as she moved her hand over her breast, directly above her beating heart. “With the snap of the bow, I turned ever so slightly.” “Thank, the Valar-“ Aragorn cried, “I know naught what I would have done without you.” Nodding ever so slightly, she yawned. “I must oblige the healer’s wishes.” “Yes,” he smiled as watched her eyes glaze over, in sleep. “Sleep well, my Queen.” ~ Legolas weaved his way back through the gardens and gazed up at the dim lights flickering in his chamber window. With elf like grace, he climbed up onto the balcony, his heart racing as he made out the familiar outline of his lover. “Aragorn,” he almost sang, crossing over to him as he placed his bow and quiver of arrows to the side. “Gimli sends his regards, though I fear he is growing restless at the inn-“ Legolas paused, frowning as he noticed the panicked look upon his king’s face. “You wish to leave?” Aragorn gasped, unsure if his heart could take another blow. “Gimli wishes it-“ he smiles. “I can naught deny him, for he has helped us in our joining.” Aragorn sighs, nodding in understanding. “He has proven to be an ally and a friend.” “For a dwarf,” Legolas laughed lightly, his smile fading as he noticed the sadness in his lover’s eyes. “What troubles thee?” “Arwen is with child,” he sighed as Legolas’ eyes widened. “Wondrous news!” He cried, wrapping his arms around Aragorn’s larger frame. “An heir-” “An heir,” he repeated, sighing as he relaxed into the elf’s embrace. Tears threatened to fall as he pondered the fate of his heir and of his queen. “Why so grim?” Legolas questioned as he noticed the tears in his eyes. “Is it naught wondrous news?” “It is,” he replied as Legolas smiled in response. “Then, let us celebrate-” he grinned as he pulled the man forward, crushing his lips to his. Aragorn moaned and eagerly responded with equal passion, needing to feel the elf closer to him. He pulled him tighter against his body as their tongues caressed each other’s. “Legolas,” he growled against his lips, pressing his arousal against the elf’s. Legolas pulled away briefly as his hearing caught sound of swift feet. He frowned when the footsteps came closer than expected. “Legolas?” Aragorn questioned as he tugged on the elf’s tunic, wanting no more then to ravish the elf in front of him. “Someone approaches,” he replied as he straightened his tunic, pulling further away form his lovers touch. “They know naught to disrupt me in these chambers-“ the king protested as Legolas pushed away his advances. “Yet, they still come-” he sighs, picking up his things and stepping closer to the balcony. “Soon-“ his voice echoed in the air as he disappeared into the night. Dismayed, Aragorn slumped against the bedpost. He closed his eyes and tried to quell his burning desires. “Soon,” he repeated as he rubbed his hand against his chest. A few minutes passed, before Aragorn could make out the footsteps that caused Legolas’ departure. He crossed to the closed door and opened it to the surprise of the guards before him. “King Elessar,” one of the guards panted, trying to catch his breath. “They have captured him-“ “The archer?” He cried out, his features of annoyance fading to that of anger. “Where is he?” “The Captain wishes your guidance in the matter-“ the guard explained. “Guidance?” Aragorn snapped. “The lives of the Queen and heir are at stake. Take him to the dungeon.” ~ Legolas stared at his captors, confusion masking his features as the hands tightened around his arms. “What have I done to deserve such harsh treatment?” “Can you naught deny that this is your arrow?” the Captain of the Guards held out an arrow in front of him. He tensed as he realized that indeed it was one of his arrows, “I can naught.” “Then your fate has been sealed,” the Captain growled as Legolas stared at the guards, he once assumed were friends. “I know naught what I am being accused,” Legolas replied harshly as he pulled against his captors. “The King bids him to be thrown into the dungeon,” one of the guards stated, rushing through the doors. Legolas froze as the words registered into his mind. “No!” He cried, panic setting in. “Please, I bid thee naught to deliver me into darkness. I can naught live in such conditions.” “It is better punishment then you deserve,” the guard growled. “Take him-“ ~ The darkness surrounded him; the only light that pierced the darkness trickled in through a small angular window down the hall. His keen eyes faded as he searched in agony for more light. He cowered to the ground, seeking solace from the nature that lined the cell floors. The dirt that covered his cell now blanketed his princely garments. “What shall become of me?” he questioned wrapping his arms around his legs. The mithiril chains digging into his pristine skin. “Why has he naught come for me?” ~ Aragorn stood at her bedside, watching her shallow irregular breaths. “How does she fare?” he voiced as the healer took a place at his side. “I know naught much of elfin healing,” he sighed as he turned away from the king. “If she lives through the night, we might have hope-“ The king nodded and sank to his knees, praying to Valar for her health. He touched her hand softly, “I shall seek vengeance against your attacker- he shall suffer for the pain he has afflicted.” Arwen moaned weakly as his words registered through her healing veil. Aragorn kissed her softly before retreating, a small smile on her lips. ~ Aragorn paused at the threshold to the dungeon. His heart pounding at the realization that he had never been down into the inner depths of the castle. He held a small candelabrum that lit his path as he descended down into the darkness. The stench of death lingered in the air, insulting his lungs; he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing on his path. His eyes strained in the dim light, searching the empty cells to his left and right. As he came to the end of the cells, his eyes caught site of the attacker, his blood boiled and he wanted to strike out to the one that cause his queen and heir grief. “Speak of your transgression-“ he began with a commanding voice, his voice faltering as he recognized the unmistakable trait of an elf- the delicate tip of an ear. “An elf?” he gasped as he approached closer to the cell, trying to see the attacker better in the dim light. “Ai, an elf-” Legolas replied, his voice heavy with bitterness. Aragorn dropped the candelabrum as the familiar voice echoed in his ears. “Legolas?” He cried, grabbing onto the bars. Legolas managed to stand and stared at his lover on the other side of the bars. He crossed over to him, his hand brushing against the kings. “I know naught of any transgressions that would cast me into the depths of darkness-“ Aragorn merely blinked, unable to grasp the twist in events. “Guards!” Aragorn cried, his heart beating rapidly as he took in the sickly pallor of his lover. Legolas shrank back further into the cell as the Captain and his guards appeared from the darkness. Before the guard could question his summons, Aragorn turned to him. “Why did you naught inform me that the captive was indeed a friend of mine, an ally of Gondor and his people?” The Captain sighed as he produced the piece of proof that condemned Legolas to his fate. Aragorn took the arrow from his hands and studied the familiar arrow. There was no mistake that this was one of the arrows he had made for his love. Tears glistened in his eyes as he turned his gaze to Legolas’. “A gift of love tainted with the blood of the Queen,” Aragorn whispered in awe as he studied the arrow and then snapped it in half, throwing it to the ground. “The Queen?” Legolas questioned, still not comprehending the crimes his lover thought him capable of. “My heart breaks,” Aragorn whispered as he turned and left a speechless elf staring after him. ~ Legolas gasped, his heart tightening as he watched his lover’s retreating form. An air of weakness overwhelmed his senses as he sank to the floor. Pulling his legs to his chest, he tightened his arms around them, trying to warm the coolness that enveloped him. His breathing quickened, his limps grew heavy and numb. He waited. ~ The king sought solace at his wife’s bedside, his world crumbling like the winds of time. His heart ached, and his thoughts raced. “Arwen,” he whispered taking her hand in his. “Fate is cruel, cutting to the core-“ he gasped his voice heavy with unshed tears. “My heart weeps at love’s cruel fate.” Surrendering to his tears, he cried until sleep gave him a reprieve- only for his dreams to mock his tortured heart. Images of the past haunted him, the same images that haunted Legolas in the cells below him. Aragorn stirred as the morning sun caressed his skin, he looked up to see Arwen gazing at him. “You have awaken,” he gasped. “How do you fare?” “I am well,” Arwen smiled as she tenderly touched his hand that still rested on her abdomen. “Did you naught pray for it?” “Ai,” he confessed as their gazes locked. “Shed no more tears for me,” she whispered, reaching out to him and tracing the dark circles under half laden eyes, marring his skin. “I have naught,” he replied quickly, turning his gaze away from her. “The eyes do naught lie,” she sighed her eyes narrowing slightly at the thought that his tears where for him. “For whom do you cry?” Aragorn sighed, “the truth of the archer has been revealed and he awaits his fate in the depths of the dungeon. His deeds will naught go unpunished.” “I can naught imagine how an elf could survive a night in the cold darkness,” Arwen whispered as he stiffened slightly. “An elf?” he questioned as he turned to face her. “How could you have known?” She paled slightly as she realized her mistake, “an arrow like that could naught have belonged to a man.” “An elf’s aim is far deadlier,” Aragorn replied quickly. His own words providing a small proof of innocence. Arwen turned away as she tried to formulate a rebuttal to his words, her heart pounding as a panic spread through her body. “Arwen?” he questioned his anger flaring at the thought that something was amiss. “What have you done?” “I know naught what you suggest,” she replied bitterly as her gaze locked with his. Her eyes sparkled with a gleam that caused him to shudder. “Arwen,” he gasped retreating slightly. “What have you done?” he repeated gravely. “I have done nothing but reclaim your love,” she admitted softly, tears falling from her eyes. “You have my love,” he protested as she shook her head in denial. “You have shown him more of what your heart desires- than you have ever shown me,“ she cried. “You love him more.” Aragorn gasped as he felt the pain and fear radiating off her, “Arwen-“ he began, his voice trailing as he realized he could naught deny her words. “Even now, you wish to be with him-“ she accused. “Go to your elfin lover and leave me in peace,” she moaned as she turned away from him. “Arwen, do naught turn away from me,” he replied as reached for her, embracing her in his arms. “My heart still beats for you-“ “Does it?” She whispered as she turned back to him, her eyes locking with his. “Will it still, when you lover takes his last breath?” ~ The whispers of morning light did naught to enlighten Legolas’ heart. He struggled to breathe, his lungs protesting, and his body fading. His thoughts focused on one thought, he did naught come. “Aragorn,” he heard his voice rasp out once more, only for the silence of the darkness to answer him. He closed his eyes as his heart tightened and his body trembled with pain. Faint footstep echoed as the darkness engulfed him. “Ai, Legolas-“ Aragorn cried as he unlocked the cell door and rushed to the elf that had claimed his heart. “Do naught leave me- I have come.“ He gathered the elf into his arms, searching for signs of life. Tears sprang to his eyes as he felt the shallow intake of breathe. “Please Legolas,” he murmured as he pressed delicate kisses on his brow. In the midst of darkness, a prince of elves succumbed to the call of Mandos as the king of men cried out in agony. ~ Bathed in sunshine, she traced circles on her abdomen, “for you he will give me his love- for you he will forgive me.” The end.