Chapter Text
~=Eitho nin=~
~Aid Me~
Forest
*Tolkien/Jackson
-Thranduil, Legolas, Tauriel, Gandalf
*Marvel
-Lady Loki
(Alandaer also will be here again because I need him in my life)
The forest could do things, what exactly it could do, she was not sure, but it had power. It could probably create things, illusions. Thranduil told her it had been tainted by something. Alandaer told her she was in adversity with whatever taint was in place. These aspects could account for things like this. All she had to do was keep a clear mind and not allow a trick of magic to fool her. If she gave in the deception would be complete.
There were places like this in other realms, places that used tricks of the mind against any that fell into it. So long as they could hold to the truth they were able to pass through; if they lost sight of reality though, they were snared and trapped, doomed to wander endlessly.
Without use of her seidr to protect her she would be more open to it, like having the door to her mind unlocked or even partly open. In her desire to see freedom she seemed to have made a misstep in leaving the castle. It would have been a far better idea to refuse the wizard and forget curiosity.
"You're dead." She held her chin aloft, shoulders square, "This is but a simple figment and trickery."
The mass of blue muscle and icy skin did not flinch from her accusation, "An illusion, you say?" That voice was so very deep and gravelly it could give her knees reason to doubt her stability, "Or do you think I'm a ghost come to exact revenge?"
"What revenge could you exact in death that you could not in life? I already bested you."
Laufey ignored her, stabbing into her with those blood red eyes, "You would be closer if you thought me a ghost here to destroy you... or it would be so if I had been dead to begin with."
"You are dead!" Loki sneered, "I should know. You are nothing but tricks of light." Tricks that could speak.
"Oh, you still believe that? That a runt I abandoned could then turn around and defeat me, the king of giants?" The Jotunn sounded morbidly amused, and even more when he saw her flinch at those words, "No, my sweet, you did not best me, nor even hurt me... The queen used her magic to send me back to my own lands before I could rip you into pieces as I had planned! I thought to use your stupidity to kill Odin and my traitorous pup at once... but she kept me from you." He shrugged one armored shoulder, "But once I heard Odin had thrown you away, off to this world..." He arched an icy brow when she took a step forward to glare, hands trembling as she struggled with herself, "oh, I see, you did not know he let you fall intentionally? You did not know he sent you here?"
"There is no way he could know! No way he could even control it with the bridge destroyed!" Her voice was rising steadily with her anger.
Laufey smiled again, showing all his teeth, "Keep telling yourself that! Keep believing he had nothing to do with where you landed. Sweet thoughts like that will ease your passing, for I did not travel here to reunite, but to take from you what you could not take from me! Believe to the end that Odin did not send you here to die, to a land conveniently in such adversity with your very being, or that he does not know I would come after you!" He stepped forward, heavy and jarring, forcing her to step away.
"I killed you! I saw your body shatter into pieces!" Loki persisted evenly even as she backed away, afraid to show him her back if she ran. She did not even notice the way the ground had begun to chill, or the creeping, paper thin coating of ice branching forth around them.
"Are you certain that was what you saw? Stupid girl! Did you really think it a coincidence?" His voice was so deep and rough like sand in the eye, "You thought it would be that simple? Trick me and lure me away to a place I would be vulnerable without my ever suspecting a trap? And why, because you let some of my people in to die in your halls?" His laugh was like broken glass in a bottomless cave.
Fear was beginning to clog her mind of clarity. The need to run was so strong she did not know if she could withstand it. She wished Thranduil was here, or Legolas, or even the wizard. Any of them could have told her if this was real, though her mind screamed that he was very real and a rather large threat to her continued life.
"I suppose it never occurred to you that I might figure out what you were up to, daughter of my flesh? Weakling!" Laufey growled loud in her ear as he caught her arm, jerking her up close and purred; "too simple minded" when he pinned her wrists together in one of his giant hands.
Now she might be panicking, just possibly. The ice at her feet thickened and splintered in wide, heavy cracks but neither of them slipped over it. He was much faster than she had been expecting and for a moment all she could do was stare in horror at his fingers locking her hands together. One arm had looped behind her to stay her retreat or struggles and with it she could hardly think over the swell of defeat. Without even testing his grip she knew it would be extremely difficult to break.
His arms were massive and she already felt overwhelmed and breathless even though he had yet to hurt her. Her heart was in her throat as she took in the fact that she could feel his cold touch, that he was real and cradling her in an embrace that might have been comforting under very different conditions, if he were a real father that loved her - Not a monster. His smile was sharp, full of points and sadistic satisfaction waiting to rip her to ribbons, drawing it all out to prolong the suffering.
Loki did not scream until she saw her skin slowly creeping to blue, starting at her fingertips and moving torturous up her arms. The repulsion and knowledge that he was forcing this, this atrocity on her was too much. Thought of showing no response and no fear was banished with this development, making her come alive. Thrashing and screaming with all she had did nothing but cause his sharp toothed smile to grow.
"No! No, no, no, stop! Unhand me!" She writhed and arched away from him, twisting her body any direction that might cut contact.
"Oh, no, never, my sweet! Before I kill you, I want to see you, my little girl; worthless child! I want to see you as you are before I shred your body in my hands. The last thing you see will be everything you hate and fear. I want you to die knowing what you are and that everyone threw you away because of it; left you to die."
Loki clawed at his hand with what were now peaked black claws, growling deep in her throat and showing what might have already turned to fangs. When he touched his lips gently to her forehead she could not hold back the gasp, mind drawn instantly back to the nights as a child when Odin kissed her goodnight in the same way.
"He asked me to tell you goodbye for him, and to wish you well on the other side. Said it was better this way, to save everyone from the backlash and shame to follow. He said he would tell the world you died in an attack rather than as you did. Told me to assure you he would never speak of your heritage to the public."
Loki could only draw sharp, partial breaths as she listened, body stiff from the harsh blow of those words. Norns, it was true, Odin had done this! She could almost hear Odin saying exactly that, with likely bigger words and a soft look of fake regret in his eyes.
When he settled onto his knees, holding her close and studying her with a feral grin, she did not fight, "Only your adoptive family will be told the truth of your end once the deed is done." That would mean Odin, or more likely Heimdall would be watching, relishing it, and that cut even more deeply somehow, "But Loki," Laufey crooned, "all of the Jotunn realm with hear how our traitor was slain, thrown to her death and ended by her true king for her heinous treachery."
"You are not my king!" It was all she could think to say and she spit the words with force and a deep, feral snarl. "You are a monster, a mutt in the streets that deserves only to be put down! A king you will never be for you are of no value and no standing! You crawl through snow and feed upon frozen waste like a scavenger, existing off pity alone."
His eyes flashed a brighter red before he, to her surprise, laughed, "My child, you know best about existing off pity and playing at royalty. You are unworthy to walk in the facade of the Aesir and unworthy to hide my blood within you...which is why..." He looked contemplative for a moment, "I suppose, you are always thrown away. To look long upon you is to see nothing and those with an eye for value can tell. You existed off the pity of one queen with a soft spot for a worthless child. Odin would have thrown you away long ago and I'm sure you know that.
He would have tossed you to my kingdom on pretense of helping his son rule, declared you my child to the world and made you ambassador...knowing fully well we would never accept what we already threw away. He would have let us descend and pull you into pieces, and in doing so, begin a new war for his son to win as a sign of a new ruler's power. Even as it stands now, you serve as a martyr for any cause he decides to rally for. You have always been a tool he intended to use and throw away. You are only valuable when dead."
Everything was tingly and numb with churning panic. It was too unreal, too much to stand. Looking into his face alone was more than she could stand, too painful, but listening was worse. All she could do was draw quivering breaths just to try to think but her mind was fuzzy and it felt like drowning. There was no processing, no way to think her way out. She couldn't run, too tired to move and too defeated to try because it would simply be too hard. She wanted to be anywhere but this place, would give anything for someone to make it stop, but she knew. No one ever helps. No one ever cared.
There was a dampness that came over her cheeks but she didn't think to wonder why or what the sensation was, it somehow didn't matter.
It only dawned on her that he had let go of her wrists when his large hand began caressing her curls slowly. There was no pain, only the cold sense of his touch and presence but she wished there was. Pain would be easier but she guessed he knew that.
Loki had always been a fighter but she felt too tired now and she wanted this. The sound of frost and ice forming seemed familiar in some disturbing way and she closed her eyes to it. If his strategy had been to make her relinquish her will to live, it had worked. She wanted him to do this, to stab her or cleave her head from her shoulders. It would mean that it could at last have an ending. Odin and Laufey would no longer be the cruel shadows to haunt her every step. The blue monster hidden under her skin would be gone just as everyone, herself included, wanted it to be. She had been born unwanted and she would die the same, but at least this way it was moderately her own choice as to when.
Loki could fight, weakly with her powers locked away, or perhaps allow her ice powers freedom to do as they wished, but to what avail? She knew somewhere deep in herself that she should care, or might later care, but in the moment at hand she could not bring herself to. To live on as she had been? It did not seem worth it. To fight a world that hated her? Why? When she could simply give up and set the world right again. She could die by the hands that originally set out to end her at her beginning. This was fated, she thought - restoration of balance that Odin displaced by taking her.
It surprised her when his hands found her shoulders and pulled her gently into a sitting position, propping her back against his massive chest and let her head rest on his shoulder. Slit throat, perhaps? An intimate kill and an easy one considering her weakened state. She would not mind it.
Loki's body stiffened, eyes snapping wide when she saw the sheet of ice before her, spread over the tree nearest in reflective clarity. He was there, nearly expressionless behind her, and she was there with red eyes and blue skin. All she could do was stare at the sight of them together, the pieces clicking into place in a shattering understanding of what he wanted. Faces so close, she could see it, the resemblance. In this form, features sharpened and cold, she saw it. His cheekbone structure, the curve of his nose, and slant of eyes and brow; there were distinct similarities, his features showing in her face. They looked like a father and daughter, similar with unmistakable shared aspects. No one could fail to notice the familial tie between them if they were this close.
She looked like him the way she had never looked like Frigga, Thor, or Odin. In this sheen of ice, clear as glass, it was obvious.
Her heart hurt; breathing hurt. She couldn't. Just couldn't. Not this, it was too cruel, to painful, to draining to endure. She could see herself shaking in the reflection and saw the tears trailing down her etched blue checks.
At first the sound was only a whimper but without even realizing the horrible noise originated from her own throat, she was screaming despair. Something deep within her snapped, she felt it, like a bone breaking under pressure, and she screamed out the pain and rage that came alone. Everything began to break and crack so loudly around her that she thought of covering her ears. Laufey began to hiss and snarl, pulling away from her as quickly as she pulled away from him. He was suddenly too hot, too blurry, and it made her skin crawl to be near him. An opinion he now he seemed to share with her.
There was dark blood speckling the leaves of the trees and pooling in various locations along the ground. Some corpses still hung limply from their own webbing, seeping away what was left of their bodily fluids while others were cut into multiple pieces scattered at random. It had been quite a battle, one in which the Maia was very helpful, as was to be expected. They did not need his help, of course, but he made quick enough work of anything that came his direction. It was always a bit interesting to watch one of the great old men fight.
Little time had been spent with much attention dedicated to the Elvenking's guest, if he were to be honest, not when he was frantic with apprehension. Thranduil might have sworn he had taken not one full breath since he realized a mass attack was underway and he had unintentionally sent his only child and his far more helpless guest away from all forms of protection. For that, he had rather cursed the wizard, for it was indeed his fault as it most often was when disaster struck. Perhaps that was unfair, but he could no more help his heated internal assessment of pointed rage than he could help the irrational terror pounding with each beat of his heart.
Regardless, he left the wizard to fend for his own preservation moments after the initial attack, not looking back or caring to warn him. All his desperate shouting had been to no avail, offering no reply from the sought after targets. All he had been able to do was slice through as many beasts as quickly as he could while racing in the direction he had last seen the two. Legolas, he trusted to take care of himself for the most part and he also trusted Tauriel to have appeared at his side like a pet since her party had arrived on the heels of the spiders. He would place his entire fortune on a bet involving his son being right beside the previous Captain of the Guard. Spiders were nothing new to any of them but the two were never far from trouble and even closer to each other at any given time. If anything he was sure the two were chasing down the retreating monsters remaining without a single thought to anyone else. They were both young and foolish.
Later he would have a very long talk with them both, a talk that would do no more good than any of the others, but a talk that would make him feel much better. He would find them safe and sound and proceed to scold endlessly. That had been all he could console himself with and he made it quite the litany.
Thranduil took his first free breath when Legolas slid into sight atop a falling tangle of withered legs, the intense grip on his lungs easing but not fully letting go. Perhaps it had not been seemly but he had been quick to arrive beside the ellon, cupping his son's face desperately between his palms, staring deeply into those wide eyes to convey words he could never speak in voice. It lasted but a moment before he relinquished his hold, pulling in on himself and sliding his usual indifferent mask into place, retreating back a few guilty steps before Tauriel came into view. He could not allow himself such weak moments, not when more of his warriors dropped from the trees around them. Legolas would have hated for them to have seen...
His shoulders pulled themselves ridged and his chin jerked itself upward to gaze down his nose at his ex-Captain of the Guard. The swift conclusion to follow, one he had also suspected, made his heart stutter far more than he would have expected but his expression did not shift even for a moment. Tauriel dropped to her knees before him to report in more detail, but the summery was nothing to make his heart beat easily. Loki, she and Legolas confirmed in a rush, was well and truly missing. He offered little attention to the swift report of what had caused the spiders wild appearance, instantly focused on the most serious problem presented.
His heart clenched painfully as he absorbed the various problems involved in the situation. Loki was virtually helpless, inhibited, without a weapon... and highly unlikely to depend on aid from others. If he felt he could count on anything, he worried that she would have strayed from any of the others simply to avoid the group she had already had an altercation with. That woman was as independent as the wind and he had a horrible feeling she would have gone her own way once the spiders flooded the area. Had he only known the spiders were coming he never would have sent them off alone!
Something in the air set on edge every fiber of his magic, sinking a feeling of foreboding into his bones and coiling his mind with images of her. His jaw was tight, teeth clenched tight. Legolas watched him so closely, brow furrowed and eyes very wary; Tauriel never even dared look him in the eye. It mattered little. He liked to think he was perfectly composed but he could feel the nerves thrumming under his skin like a swarm of bees seeking an outlet; he admittedly did not wait for further word before he set off anew, boots pounding the ground with determination.
His urging drove his mount to gallop just a bit faster through the trees, the great creature having to duck its head most of the time to avoid branches that might catch at its horns but his old friend endured it without complaint as Thranduil's eyes darted over every surface in search of a familiar flash of raven black. The stress from his previous fear for Legolas had his nerves keyed too high, which caused the shaking in his hands he could not push aside. The beating of his heart was like a panicked bird diving against the wall of a cage and he still could not take a breath that felt full. Once she was found he could be at ease but not a moment before.
The scream stopped his heart, chilling his blood right to the marrow, making pull at the harness to stop their progress. Her name fell in a fraught whisper from his lips, quicksilver eyes shooting through the expanse of trees, seeking her in a whole new desperation. Without even being told, the great elk turned its canter in the direction of the scream. There had been occasions he had heard screams like that. It was a horrid sound of pain, anguish at the moment a spirit snapped. He supposed it was similar to the screams that left his throat the day he lost his father or his wife.
Upon hearing it he was all the more certain his assumptions had been correct. The spiders were dead or on the run but there had been no sign of the Aesir before that sound; though it eased him not at all, at least the scream gave him something to work with.
Desperation had flooded his brain like water, forcing out rationality the moment he heard the sound again. The foreign queen was in grave danger and anything that happened to her was very fully his fault. Whatever was happening to her must be put to a full, swift end. Why had he agreed to take her out? He knew it was ill fated from the moment it was suggested even if he no longer worried she would run away, there had always been other concerns. This was what happened when any listened to the whim of a Maia! Calamity followed on the robes of those men like a shadow!
In a sudden, drastic shift, the air turned frigid and his breath came in puffs of vapor. Neither he nor his stag hesitated a moment, the animal simply scenting the air more thoroughly, shifting directions accordingly. There was no explanation for the dusting of ice on the bark and leaves but it was clear it could mean nothing pleasant. The great creature halted suddenly, tossing his head with a low huff of triumph, ears flattened and hoof stamping in a warning.
The moment Thranduil's eyes caught her, he was moving, running to her and sliding to his knees beside her well before he even realized he dismounted. It was only after he was knelt beside her that he noticed the darkness swirling around like a fixed storm; something else still gliding swiftly through the trees like a shadowy void. Fear was instant as it sprung inside him like a dark void there to swallow him; it was very dangerous, whatever it was.
Instinct had him crouching low, shielding her prone form with his body, defensive magia springing to his lips in swift whispers to bar or at least slow it should it turn back. The right side of his face inexplicably felt hot and unpleasant, but he punshed the sensation to the back of his mind, lacking time to indulge it. He watched as what little of the figure he had seen vanished from sight, leaving only the ill, dark residue behind. That must have been what his old friend had been warning him of but he ignored.The hair at the back of his neck stood on end, his skin prickling with discomfort strong enough to make him shiver while his magia flair around him like quivering wings, feathers fanned wide to push it away. Though the being had gone he could feel its presence clinging to the grass and permeating the air, the translucent, fluttering wings of his creation were ineffective to banish it totally.
When his eyes turned back to her, really looking at her this time, he found the breath stalled in his throat. The Loki he met was not to be seen in this poor girl. She by all rights looked otherworldly, like a ghost driven mad in life only to be just as haunted in death. Her eyes were wild yet lifeless all at once, fixed to something horrific that none but she could see.
The Sinda could only stare at her, unable to take a breath for fear he might not actually be able to bring her back to the right side of life. The goetia residuum around her would have been visible to even human eyes, swirling and angry. Her fingers were coiled tight in her own hair, likely pulling some from her scalp as her upper body rocked back and forth on the frozen ground. Her trembling lips were moving but nothing intelligible was forthcoming. There were streaks of tears down her pallid, sunken cheeks and it was somehow heartbreaking to look upon, at least in someone so naturally in control being brought so low. She would be humiliated if she was in possession of her normal faculties and that was also rather devastating. Even as he wove protections around her the vacant look in her eyes did not lift.
"Loki," he whispered softly to her, running his fingers up her arms to take hold of her hands, tugging gently and working carefully to untangle her fingers from her hair. Her skin was covered in a thin frost that melted in his hold and he worked faster as the realization dawned. The sensations from the dark magic had stalled his other senses to the danger she was clearly in. Her body was freezing cold, more than simply chilled from the air. His eyes continued to bounce up and around every so often to be sure nothing was returning.
She let him pry her hands away and he gathered her gently into his arms, wrapping her up in his cloak, willing his warmth into her. His long fingers threaded through her hair to massage, words used to soothe children tripped softly from his lips without his ever thinking of it. Hysteria was beating a swift tune in the corners of his mind as he coiled around her as much as he could, trying to bring life back into her. There was a tint of blue hiding under her skin that heightened his desperation as he frantically tried to chase away the cold.
It was only then that he began to notice the thick broken glass surrounding them; a closer look and the discomfort of ice melting into his clothing brought his mind to realize it was ice. There was a dense sheet of ice extending around the both of them in a wide circle, broken and cracked into jagged splits. The earth seemed charred in some places though it was hard to be sure now that it was covered in frozen water. Where it traveled up the trees, the wood splintered and peeled, glittering with the sheen of its coating. It looked like the ice itself exploded everything around it, destroying every surface, though still burned in others. That was not some trick of glamour, no craft of goeteia, it was very real.
Why had he not noticed before? Something was lingering and dulling his normally sharp edges. The very air was too thick to breathe, making every voice within his skull scream for him to flee.
"Who attacked you? How did this happen?" Thranduil prodded urgently, scanning the area he had last seen...whatever it had been. "Loki? Please!"
Nazgûl, perhaps? But no, it had not felt quite like one of their horrid kind. It felt... worse and more familiar in some ways, making something within him quake without knowing why. This scene stretched before him did not fall into place with the dark beings he knew of. Though the question really would be, why had it fled? Not for fear of him; though he was strong he was not powerful enough to make a Nazgûl-if it had been- turn away so easily. He did not care to think what, if not a Nazgûl, it had been for the other choices were worse. Perhaps it was nothing from their world, but from hers? That might be a better option. He would rather see it be from her world than the potentials from his. They could not linger in any case, whatever power had been there, it was dangerous. They must return to the rest of the party and further to the safety of the castle walls.
He had scarcely begun to scoop her up off the ground before his men began dropping from the trees, making their way toward their king with deeply worried expressions. Thranduil tensed as he felt the ice under his feet begin to shift subtly, making him glance behind for signs of a renewed attack. The ice was extending, branching forward like roots of a tree. It moved with his progress as if it intended to remain in his steps.
The moment the guards moved forward, the ice shifted harshly, leaping up in a dangerous circle of twisting spines. They grew like sharp vines, deadly and defensive. His men backed away, startled, but inched closer again a moment later. The sharp crystals shifted again in response, an effective wall to ward off entry. Loki shuddered in his arms, twitching miserably, eyes open but seemingly unseeing. His breath stalled in his throat as realization slammed into him like a slap.
Oh... Loki. The ice was Loki's doing, her creation, her defense, controlled by whatever power she used. When she had been attacked, somehow she used it to defend herself but at a high cost. Perhaps the inhibitor was the reason she seemed in such a poor condition. It was the only thing that made sense as he studied the ice-sickle wall before him. Even now, she was still trying to defend against threats, and perhaps she was equally trying to protect him, even in her confused state.
"It's alright, they mean us no harm, I promise. You are safe now, Loki." He whispered the words directly into her ear, gentling his voice to calm her as much as he was able past his own fears.
The ice wavered, shrinking slightly but did not fully depart. His eyelids fluttered, a strange grief swelling in him for her and what he must have allowed her to endure. She should never have been left alone, reduced to such a state. Pulling his cloak around her further, leaning over her was all he could do to shield her from the sight of any that might look. Her ability to bypass the inhibitor did not frighten him as if should have, it only coiled guilt in his core. He was the cause of her pain. He took away her ability to freely defend her own life from the horrors in his lands. Now she was trying to protect him; he knew it somehow in the way she had clutched her slender fingers into his tunic, the sensation of her fear, and the clear fact that she allowed him near her when she did not do the same for others.
He wanted to beg her forgiveness but instead he said; "These are my people, here to protect us." He felt so ill, from guilt as well as the darkness still permeating the air they were breathing.
"Thranduil?" She choked back in response, voice raw, but her eyes finally met his. "Is he... is..." it seemed too difficult for her to finish the question so he did not press, he understood the feeling. He was not fully himself either but he could not quite brush away the cloud in his own mind. Given a little time, they would be fine.
The spikes of ice retreated, fading progressively lower until they were no more. The looks in the eyes of his guards was hard to read over the feeling assaulting him from her as his own mixed with them. Something, perhaps her magic, was twining into him, clinging and seeking refuse. If only he could offer substantial comfort but he doubted she would find any in him. He would never allow her to be alone again, that much he vowed.
Legolas must have retrieved his stag, for he road into view at the edge of... the lingering haze of smoke. Father and son locked eyes and all he saw within was fear and intense confusion. What did they see, looking at the king and the world traveler in his arms? What caused such a look? Tauriel swung herself down from behind Legolas, eyes meeting his for the first time since he dismissed her from the throne room. She too looked decidedly wary, frightened even, but no less intense.
Thranduil watched them drift closer, stalking forward fingers flexing as if itching to draw forth an arrow or blade. It was Legolas that found his tongue. "What happened, Adar? Are you... unharmed?"
His son looked so much the child now, wide eyed and eager for reassurance, "I am quite unharmed but... she is in urgent need of care."
Legolas' eyes grew impossibly wider, "This..." his intense gaze traveled over the expanse of ground, moving well behind them. "What manner of-"
"The necromancer," Tauriel cut in with eyes brimming with unhealthy curiosity before she dipped into a crouch, daring to reach toward them, almost touching the dark mist, "it must be! I have seen this moving and lingering within the old fortress but we stayed far from it."
The mist... he had not noticed the fog of darkness hovering so far in this direction, but he did now. It was the lingering proof that some dark creature had been present not long ago. It was unmistakable as a sign of power most foul; it slowed the senses of even an elf, stealing the light from them. He too had seen it before and knew better what it meant. If the necromancer was the source it afforded no comfort, for that would mean a Nazgûl, perhaps Angmar himself, were whispers to be believed. Everyone knew the force infesting Dol Guldur could be no mere human. Sometimes he worried it might be worse than they feared. Cold chills ran up and down his spine at the flicker of thought his mind had no desire to follow.
Thranduil could not hold back the way his body jerked, startled when the Grey Wizard burst into the clearing, swinging from his horse with shocking agility, staff in hand. There was a loud clack as the wooden staff connected against the ground with authority, sending a resonating shock though the earth itself, acting like a strong wind to disperse the smoky mass. The mist rushed back, then worked in a sluggish crawl to return.
"Enough! Back away!" Mithrandir bellowed at the elves and they scattered in the face of his intensity. "You must stay away from it! This...is..." he did not finish, speaking next in a tongue even Thranduil was not fully familiar with. It was not Westron or Sindarin but he felt he should be able to place it.
Though he admittedly was not paying close attention, focused more heavily on what seemed more vital, which was holding the shell in his arms together until she could be cared for, "What is it, Mithrandir?" He ground out, unwilling to simply wait to hear what the Maia intended doing.
Surprisingly, the wizard paused to answer, "Do not move, my friend, not just yet."
The Elvenking pulled her closer, afraid the situation might have been miss read, "She is injured, we must bring her to the healing rooms at once!"
"Yes..." Mithrandir conceded, usually tranquil eyes sharp as fine metals, "but not before this darkness is forced from its hold on her. If it is allowed to linger, it will do grave harm to you both." Forceful steps brought the Maia forward, his feet treading as if the very ground affronted him, but when his fingers found their way onto the Elvenking's shoulder he swore his vision briefly flooded with starlight and the pleasant warmth of the summer sun.
When Thranduil blinked, it was to a sharper, clearer world that seemed far less dark. For a fleeting moment he might have believed the woods were green once again, but his rational mind knew better. Still, it was a pleasant sensation from times long past, those that he thought forgotten brought back by some kindness to chase away the cruel hold. Loki reacted far less favorably to the touch, stiffening and curling closer in his arms.
"Kill me!" She whispered fiercely, startling both the Sinda and the Istari in equal measure, "I would rather die than be his monster..." the words were broken and miserable, "I will not! I will not! I will not!"
"Oh, child..." Mithrandir's touch was feather light against her forehead, eyes softer as he whispered something very powerful an ancient, but this time he recognized the words. Thranduil could only watch, transfixed by the power he felt gliding in gentle warmth around them, a power only one of the five could possess, and it was rare to see it at work; she must have touched some soft place in him for him to use it, for Gandalf the Grey was known to be sparing with his use of power. Loki twitched, clinging tightly to whatever she could hold onto of his tunic, but the tight coils of her muscles began to relax cord by cord. The necklace shimmered in resistance, something the wizard clearly noticed, but ignored in his continued work. When she grew limp, the wrinkled hand withdrew.
"Take her away from here!" The wizard's words were weighty, "While it is dispelled, the damage is still present. She must be treated quickly!"
Thranduil nodded rather obtusely, ready to be free of the suffocating place, but the wizard caught his arm and leaned close, "You should also draw your people back, remove them for a time to enable me to investigate without jeopardizing their safety."
Again, the Sinda only nodded, though with admittedly more gravity the second time to ensure it was clear he understood. Why would he consider letting his people stray from the castle grounds in the next few nights anyway? What manner of ruler did people think he was? Was it not his reputation to be overly cautious? Not likely! They would all be gathered up within the safety of his walls to be sure they risked no further interaction with... Necromancers... Nazgûl, or the like. He would never be capable of a moments rest unless they were all within the highly guarded, highly protective wall. Punishment or not, the patrols would be suspended a few nights and the squad numbers increased. More weaponry would not go amiss either.
Even so, he paused, whispering carefully, "Are you certain you are in no need of assistance?" In no way did he desire to go, not after encountering it, but he would. Legolas could return Loki to the healing rooms without incident, at least in theory. If there was further threat to his lands it should be he that accompanied the wizard.
Mithrandir cocked a brow, the twinkle returning to his smile, "I shall manage. Stay with her, as I know it would pain you to do otherwise." There was something much too knowing about that look but he had no notion as to what those milky blue eyes observed.
Almost without thinking, he shifted his cloak more fully to hide Loki from the sight of the company, shifting his attention over his kin. Best to ignore all else for the moment.
"We shall withdraw, back behind the gates..." Thranduil pursed his lips, briefly considering announcing it as Mithrandir's request but decided to leave it off, "Everyone report and partake of any healing necessary once we are within. The injured take precedence." His molten eyes caught and held Tauriel's, "Ensure your people are accounted for and prioritize health risks. Patrol is thus suspended until all have been cleared."
The elleth dipped in a bow with a respectful fist over her heart before she raced away. She would ensure it was done so he could feel secure in leaving them. Thranduil waited for no further responses before he carefully swung himself and his passenger fluidly atop his elven elk and raced away from the darkened patch of earth. When the wizard returned to his halls he would discover more, or more simply what portions were divulged rather than hidden. In truth, he might never know a great deal about the forces encroaching on his kingdom unless Mithrandir decided to allow him to, or unless Eru sent him glimpses, but he could endure. He had endure thus far, and without a ring of power he was sure Galadriel and Elrond likely used to keep foul forces from their lands. What he accomplished had been on his own power. It mattered very, very little what he had done, for this reminded him keenly that it was not enough. Nothing would ever be quite enough to protect those he was responsible for. It was nothing short of maddening, and e pressed forward, nudging with his knees to urge for more speed.
"I have you. Everything will be alright, I promise. " It would, he would fix this, protect her, somehow. Somehow. He would find a way to fix everything.
"What has happened?" A very irate healer was already marching rather swiftly down the hallway, white robes billowing, to meet Thranduil long before word could have reached his ears.
"We were attacked. She was separated from the company." The Elvenking responded quickly, even as he used the length of his long legs to move him just that much faster to present her unconscious form to one who could help her far better than his enchantments along the way. He had tied a hundred strings to her spirit to hold her tethered to him but she seemed no closer for it. While she might have been broken free, she was not recovering as he wished to see.
They nearly collided in their haste, but Alandaer bent over her, clutching her cold fingers and prying her eyes open, "Take it off! Now!" The healer commanded sharply.
When Thranduil only blinked in response, the healer huffed and ground out lowly, "The necklace! Remove it. If you do not, nothing I do will reach her. She must be allowed to heal without inhibition or she will-"
He nearly dropped her in his haste to reach the clasp, but Alandaer was there to catch what he did not. Just a light brush of his fingers and a flick at the fastening before it fell from round her neck with a loud clatter of metal against stone. Loki gasped sharply and arched in their arms, her eyes fluttering open only to close again as she relaxed once more. With nothing more than that, the healer stole her from his arms and was gliding away before Thranduil's feet could quite catch up.
They rushed down the halls, the Elvenking at the older ellon's heels, "Will she be alright?"
"She will if I have a say, which I do. I shall not let her slip away." There was no indication Alandaer's feet ever touched the ground as he fairly flew into his healing room to place her carefully atop a bed before he set to work mixing and grinding leaves.
Thranduil's fingers curled through hers without his permission but he left them there regardless and he did not stop his other hand from stroking her head to sooth her how he might, "What do you require me to do?"
"Nothing more than you are now. Anchor her and remind her you are there." Alandaer plucked several things from the shelves before settling in place again, "Though you must explain to me how a wizard, a king, prince, and their guards allowed an unarmed girl to be lost in our woods! Further, I expect you to explain what manner of monster did this!"
"We were overrun by a massive nest being purged. She was lost in the ensuing confusion but I do not know what happened after that. I had hoped you might tell me based upon observations you might note."
"Mithrandir did not know? Is he becoming so careless?" The way the healer spoke was enough to convey dubiety. When he held out a branch of herbs, he offered no instruction, but Thranduil knew well enough what it was used for.
The Sinda only answered once he had carefully slipped a dry leaf under her tongue to dissolve there, "It is possible it was the Necromancer."
Alandaer's hands stilled for a moment but he did not look up, "You are certain?"
"It would seem it is true, or highly likely at the least."
"That is...most troubling." He resumed his impressive mixing with little more, "Though little wonder then why she is in such poor condition. I was less than pleased to hear she had been taken out but I hoped for no disaster to befall her. She was fading so quickly already but to add an encounter with such a creature surely sent her well over the edge... though without the magic to defend herself I am amazed she survived. A wizard should have known better. "
Thranduil narrowed his gaze, suddenly perplexed at the realization, "You have seen her before? What do you mean fading? How do you know any of this?" He never thought to question it before, not even when he encountered the two in the library, but now it seemed more than strange.
Still not deigning to look up, he replied, "I met her last night and treated her. Her health was rapidly declining."
"How so?" It seemed he was bound to travel in circles all day, forever a few steps behind the rest of the world.
At last he looked up, "Then Legolas did not tell you. I rather thought he might not keep to her request but it seems he did." Clearly taking note of the mounting confusion and frustration written over the Elvenking's face, he continued, "She was not well last night, I could see as much, so I sought her out to confirm it. I determined that she has been suffering for some time, healing herself with her own magic before it was cut off, but she is essentially at odds with the taint. It is warring with her very existence but I suspect there is a manner of mutual adversity."
Thranduil shook his head in an attempt to clear it and enable himself to organize his thoughts, "What mutual adversity? Sauron has been diminished. " Because he was not sure he could hear about her suffering without his notice, not just now. He knew she had taken the inhibitor badly but he had seen nothing to indicate she was in danger from it. Had she hidden it so well, uttered not one complaint? How cruel and callous was he that he did not see?
Alandaer looked at him incredulously, "How long will he remain so? You as well as I know he is not without recourse."
Thranduil's fingers tightened around her frail hand, "Don't speak foolishness."
"Then you have not dreamed of fire and charred earth?" The healer studied him and surely did not miss the twitch in his shoulders. "Do not try to fool me for I have lived too long to be deceived easily. You know he is not so far gone as some would have us believe, for we see it best of all, each day when we but step out the doors."
Thranduil's breath released in a gust, shoulders slumping, "I wished not speak of it, dared not think it lest I bring it about with my dwelling in darkness. I cannot believe it but I know I must prepare for the eventuality. The servants of evil are gathering steadily but I... know not how to prevent it." The words had come in a rush, honesty born of guilt and weariness. "That is why I must have Loki! Surely she was sent to us for a reason!" He felt too vulnerable to hide from one he had known so long, a former adviser to Oropher.
Alandaer said nothing, only picked the bowl off the table and moved to Loki's other side. With skill born from centuries of practice, he persuaded the unconscious woman to drink very slowly, taking such care with every drop to ensure it neither spilled nor choked her. The prayers to Eru floated from his lips like the sweetest songs long ago committed to memory. Once the medicine had been administered they were silent some time, both studying her every breath.
After his nerves had endured enough with no visible change in her, he could stay silent no longer, "Is she improving?"
"Would I be standing idle if she was not? Healing is rarely instant." Again, without looking up, he held the branch of herbs under the Elvenking's nose, "But you will put one of these under your tongue as well. You are not yet as recovered as you seem to assume."
Thranduil glared at the offending plant, "I was not injured."
Deep, wise eyes locked with silver, "You were not unharmed either." Without even fully letting his hand touch upon the right side of Thranduil's face, it was enough to ignite a sting that made the king flinch away, and the knowing look in those dark eyes spoke volumes. "Dark magia is a difficult thing to cleans from a wound, impossible if it is not treated extensively and immediately. As you know, it will always linger, but it is made worse when contact with similar beings is initiated. The leaf, now."
Thranduil turned his face away, but plucked the leaf from the branch all the same, obeying as if he were reduced a few thousand years in age. "I am not damaged." But he did not feel himself, not at all. In truth, he did feel very damaged even if there were no marks to demonstrate. The incident had left him hollow and scraped out. Restraint was needed if he intended to put himself back to rights, so he released his hold on Loki's hand and stepped away.
"No, but that will not prevent the pain."
"I care not. I only seek an end to the madness, which Loki could bring. I would have you heal her as swiftly as is in your power." Some part of the king wished to flee and hide away in his chamber, "Once she is well, I shall rest more easily."
"Is that the only reason, truly, for your concern? I do not believe you so indifferent."
"I care nothing for the lives of outsiders! She is a means to an end! My people are my responsibility."
"You are lying." Alandaer stated simply, "You are fond of her, seeing her harmed frightens you; speak it plainly and cease your ever complicated attempts to bar all emotion from your life. You feel too deeply to accomplish indifference. It would do you well to admit your own feelings before you drive away everyone that loves you, Legolas included."
"Stop!" Thranduil held up a hand, "I cannot have this discussion now. I am not fully myself."
"On the contrary, I think now is a very good time. Before you can hide yourself away and resurrect your protective walls, now is a good time to make you listen to reason." The healer sounded so assured in his every word and it burned fury in his heart.
The platinum strands whipped into his own face as he turned away, "Be silent! You have others to treat that are more in need than I! Those injured in the woods will arrive soon so you should focus your full attention on stabilizing her before you must see to them." Thranduil burst from the room, retreating to the relative safety of the tower to gather himself back into some semblance of sanity. He could not afford to let his emotions run so unchecked lest he slip into something he could not control.
Once he was seated in his chair he felt more in control but not enough. He knew better than to allow himself to hide away in his chambers or he might not resurface for much too long. It was unwise to allow himself to devolve into such a state of upset as he might if he were fully hidden from the eyes of others. He was in need of control, total control. Control was what he did best, especially over his own emotional state. If his fingers brushing over the old wound caused pain, so be it. Never the less, he stuck the sweet leaf under his tongue and schooled his posture in the chair while he studied the many papers spread before him. The way to regain control was to focus on what he must do and the reasons he must hold himself together. His people would need him to be focused and strong, a wall of unshakability. No darkness would shake them for they would endure as they always had. Loki had nothing to do with them besides what he decided she did.
He would visit her later, once the light of day had retreated and his officers had all offered report. Once the issues were resolved he would return but not before. Equally, once she was awake he would find far more answers to exactly what occurred.