I had been in Mirkwood for 44 days when we received word that a cloaked figure was requesting an audience with Legolas and I. Legolas, holding Ladicilion, and I walked to the library where the person was waiting. When we got there, they were flipping through one of the books.
“Excuse me, sir. But that is my property and I don’t believe I gave you permission to touch it,” Legolas said in a courteous, yet warning voice.
The man (I assumed he was a man from his build) put the book down on a table. He then turned around and faced us. He wore his hood up so that his face was hidden.
“Is that your son?” The man asked, pointing at Legolas.
Legolas looked down at Ladicilion.
“He is mine, sir,” I answered.
“I asked the prince if the child was his.”
“No, sir. I am just a friend of his mother’s, but if you wanted to speak with us both, you should have known that,” Legolas answered, sounding annoyed.
“Yes. I was just curious what your answer would be.” The man lifted his hood up and Legolas and I gasped. “You have stolen my family, I was wondering if you had taken claim to them as well.”
I opened my mouth to scream, but Sabros rushed over and placed a hand over my lips.
“Shush, my darling. We wouldn’t want to attract any attention, would we?”
I started to cry. Sabros was injecting images into my mind. Images of us together, of our kisses, of the conceiving of our son and of me professing my love to him. My legs buckled and I collapsed. Sabros fell to my side and stoked my face.
“Don’t worry, my love. As soon as I am done here, we can go home. I promise.”
My husband stood up and stretched his arms out in front of him.
“How about giving me my son, brother?”
Legolas held Ladicilion even closer to him.
“Come on, Leggy. He’s my son, give him to me,” Sabros commanded.
“He may be your son, but you are an unfit father.”
“I am NOT an unfit father!”
Sabros slapped Legolas across the face.
“Sabros, put your hood up. I’m going to call a maid in here to put Ladicilion in Moriwen’s room, alright?” Legolas asked cautiously.
After Ladicilion was far away from the two brothers, the real fight began. I was glued to where I knelt on the floor and unable to do anything. Legolas delivered a right-hook to Sabros’s jaw.
“That is for slapping me, Mekero,” Legolas hissed.
“And this is for stealing my wife’s heart.”
Sabros extended his right hand in front of him and closed his eyes. I saw ever muscle in Legolas’s body tighten as his brothers magic took a hold of his body. Legolas closed his eyes and bit his lip as he sank to his knees in front of Sabros. I instantly thought of the vision I saw in Galadriel’s Mirror. This was it. Legolas, my Legolas, was about to die.
“Painful, isn’t it? Now think of feeling this pain in your heart every day for 1,500 years. It would be unbearable. But as soon as you are dead, my pain will cease,” Sabros said, pulling a knife out of his boot. He placed it on Legolas’s neck, and looked up at me.
“I know this will cause you pain, Moriwen. But that pain will eventually go away as you forget about your beloved Sindarin Prince.”
With his spare hand, Sabros pulled on Legolas’s hair, allowing Sabros to see his neck.
“I have dreamed of this day for so long.” Sabros moved the blade a short distance, and I let out a moan as I saw a drop of blood go down my beloved’s neck. “Farewell, my old friend.” The knife started to move again.
“Wait!” I screamed.
My protest shocked my husband, and he looked up.
“What is it, my love?”
“Please, don’t kill him. I’m sure there is
something that you would rather have from me, in exchange for his life,” I pleaded.
Legolas looked at me, a mix of fear and bewilderment in his eyes.
“Perhaps there is.” Sabros dropped his blade. “Don’t move brother.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Legolas muttered, knowing that he had been paralyzed by his brother.
Sabros ignored Legolas’s comment as he walked towards me.
“I want you to prove to my brother that you will never be his.”
Sabros handed me his knife.
“Draw his blood, and catch it in this.” Sabros took a goblet off a table. “Fill it to here, then bring it to me.”
When he pointed to how full he wanted it, I cringed. It wouldn’t be enough blood to kill him, but it would take a long time and would be painful. Sabros handed me the glass, and pushed me in the direction of where Legolas was sitting on his knees.
“Sabros, where am I to draw this much blood?” I asked, not turning away from Legolas. From behind me, I heard Sabros sigh.
“His wrist, darling. You are so naive.”
I lifted Legolas’s wrist and turned it up toward me.
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed as I dragged the blade across his flesh. The blood came out faster then I would have thought. I turned his wrist so that the blood poured directly into the glass. When the blood started to slow down, Sabros came up behind me.
“Moriwen, you have to press here,” Sabros instructed, pointing to the area above the slit in Legolas’s wrist. He took the knife out of my hand, and led my hand to where he meant. I tried not to gag as I felt the princes pulse under my thumb. As soon as the glass was as full as Sabros had requested, he took the goblet away from me and stood up. I instantly set to healing Legolas’s wrist.
“Thank you, my love,” Sabros said, smiling. He raised his chalice above his head. “A toast. To love and revenge.”
I turned my head away as the Moriquendi king put the goblet to his lips. I looked at Legolas, who stared at me as if I was a stranger. Apparently, he knew what was going on as well as I. It was a spell of Black Magic. Blood was to be drawn by one you love, that would be me. Then the substance was to be consumed by however hated you enough to do such a thing. Sabros. Last, but not least, the person must say a spell, then you would be unable to ever raise a hand against him or anyone under his command. Sabros was rendering Legolas defenseless.
When the spell was spoken, Sabros threw the glass at his brother. Legolas just sat there. Sabros walked over to him and kicked him in the stomach. Legolas could only groan.
“Sabros, please. Stop. You have your revenge, leave us be,” I begged.
“Us? No, no, no, my dear. You and Ladicilion are coming with me.”
“No. You have bound Legolas, but I still have my free will.” As I said this, I lit a fireball in my hand and threw it at Sabros. It barely missed him. “Leave, or I’ll set you ablaze,” I hissed.
Sabros stared at me for a moment, then shook his head and laughed.
“Fine. You have served your purpose. I am now the king of the Moriquendi, so I should be able to find myself another mistress.”
Sabros gave a mocking bow before turning around and sprinting out of the palace.
I ran over to Legolas and bent down beside him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his face.
“Legolas, forgive me. I am so sorry! I didn’t want to do that, but I couldn’t let him kill you.”
Legolas looked at me wearily, for he was weak from blood-loss.
“Thank you, Moriwen. Though, next time he tells you to draw my blood, hit him with a fireball FIRST.”
“So, I guess that counts as a… what did you call it?” Legolas asked.
At first I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, then I realized what he meant.
“Yes, that’s it. I think this constitutes as a divorce. From what he said, I don’t think you are married to him anymore,” Legolas said with a smile. As soon as these words were spoken, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him for a passionate kiss.
Okay….I am so sorry, but this is the end of the tale of the Elven Queen. The name of the sequel will be “Mirkwood Royalty”. I hope you enjoyed this story! (Yes, Legolas, Moriwen and Ladicilion WILL be in the next one.)