Part 8: An Even Kneel

Legolas guided the group calmly along the path to the stream. The sickly old trees and vines still slumped over in the forest as if silently groaning under their own weight. He gestured towards the waters and nodded to Malekith. The ancient sorcerer eyed him carefully and gestured for Algrim and the others to gather at the stream and keep Legolas at its edge as well. He raised a hand, signaling for his men to halt until further notice as he stared unmoved at the elf-prince. "As a youth and a captive, you must have a great thirst, indeed," Malekith observed coolly. His piercing blue eyes narrowed and his voice deepened with his next uttering. "Drink."

Legolas froze. He had partially anticipated this, but could not reach the flask that kept him safe from poisons that would ensure he would not succumb to the effects. He could take a quick nip from it, make a jest about the need to restore 'spirit' as well since the kingdom of Greenwood was known for its consumption of such excellent intoxicants that made anyone and everyone see the stars most clearly. As he reached for the flask, Algrim's hand landed harshly on him and snatched the flask away, handing it to his master with a nod. Malekith accepted it and examined the bottle. He tossed back his head and drew in a drink of the incredibly sweet and floral flavors that danced enchantingly around the potent alcohol that was subtly burning the back of his mouth as he leaned back, put the cap back on the flask, and wiped his mouth with a relieved sigh. He held it out towards Legolas and gave a quick not to Algrim, allowing the soldier to know that this was intended. Legolas accepted the flask at once and put it to his lips. Before he could drink, Malekith quickly waved a hand, causing the flask to fly away from the prince's hands in a flash. Legolas turned and watched in anger and amazement at this elf's use of magic as he held the flask aloft with a simple wrist gesture and then poured it into the stream. Legolas felt his heart and stomach sink to the dirt on the forest floor as his expression hung where the rest of his internals should've been. Malekith flicked his hand and pushed the flask into the stream, filling it with the enchanted waters. In a flicker the flask was retrieved by the sorcerer and the cap replaced. He once again offered it to the prince who hesitated. Malekith furrowed his brow in disapproval that now suddenly frightened Legolas. There had not been a being of this kind of power, not machinery complex or otherwise, since Galadriel herself. He gingerly accepted it and placed it back at his side in its pouch. Malekith gestured towards the rest of the forest to their right. "I smell fresh water and live flesh. Move."

As the rest of the elves began to follow their master's orders they were suddenly halted by a somewhat expected, but still rather strange sight. An ambush of powerful elfin archers, three swordsmen as well, stood around them with their weapons raised. One spoke powerfully and demandingly. "You are holding captive our prince, Legolas son of Thranduil the Elvenking, son of Oropher the Slayer of Darkness," he announced. The dark elves began to raise their weapons, but Malekith turned his head and swiped one hand swiftly causing them to back down. "Release him and we will allow you an escort out of the King's forest."

Malekith took three steps forward cautiously and looked the archers over with great interest. There were at least 11 archers, 4 females, and 1 swordsmaiden. He smirked and folded one hand behind him, raising the other in front as he spoke, gesturing as if he were an orator or a diplomat. "And what if I should refuse? This is, after all, indirectly my own offspring as well." Malekith took another step forward and heard the strings on every bow tighten to their fullest. He smiled. "What would you give me as an escort then?"

"Give us the prince," the archer demanded.

Malekith snickered in amusement, turning to Algrim who smirked as well. As Malekith turned, he hurled a powerful ball of energy into the archer's chest and sent him flying backwards, snapping not only a tree but also his own spine in the process. Before the other archers could react, the rest of the dark elves raised their weapons and strategically shot at the bows. Some of the Sylvan archers and swordsmen had small wounds from being disarmed, but disarmed they were nevertheless. The blasts from the weapons that the dark elves wielded practically obliterated the crude, but craftily made elf-made weapons. Malekith turned to the archer nearest him who was kneeling against a tree and trying to find the strength to call out as she nursed the terrible wound on her hand. Malekith reached down and removed a glove, taking her hand in his own, pale and cold to her. She gasped as he closed his fingers around the wound and effortlessly healed it with a wisp of grey cloud surrounding their limbs. The sorcerer turned back to Legolas and beamed triumphantly as he addressed his men.

"Take them, all of them, and revive the one over there." A small, but formidable group nodded and hurried to obey as Malekith came and stood in front of Legolas who dropped the flask in defeat and swallowed hard at realizing the further gravity of his predicament. Malekith reached down and took the flask, sweeping it up gracefully in one hand and slipping it back into the elfling's pouch. "There now," he said with his own breed of kindness. "You will have a female all your own."

(*)

Loki and Tauriel rushed back into the halls of the Elvenking as quickly as they could, though Loki wished he could make her move just a little faster. The halted and frowned, remaining perfectly still as they reached the throne room where a troop of archers and swordsmen stood a good distance away from the white stag as it stood before Thranduil, standing at the base of the steps leading up to his throne. He did not acknowledge their presence, but Tauriel knew he sensed them. He bowed politely to the stag who reared back and let out a baying howl as it bounded away and out of the palace. Thranduil stood as the troop immediately stood back at attention and gathered in rank in front of their king. Thranduil slowly turned to Tauriel, having clearly fought away tears for some many moments. "There are malevolent strangers in the forest, our scouts have seen them this past night. They appear to be elf-kind but dark and unnatural," Thranduil said calmly to the troop, glancing over his shoulder at the pair as if to remind them that he had words for them as well. Loki frowned and shook his head, fighting the urge to shout "I warned you thusly, you imbecile, I warned you thusly days ago!"

"What orders, then, my king?" the foremost archer asked.

"Go and find all that you can; destroy them and retrieve my son while you search," he commanded.

"No!" Tauriel shouted instinctively. All eyes turned to her as she looked at the group in the same face of terror she had donned when seeing the dark elves up close. "They are more than dark and unnatural they are more powerful than we realize. We must know more about them or they will slaughter us like cattle."

"And what would you know of this matter?" Thranduil asked with a scoff, turning and sweeping his robes behind him. "Have you not spent the better part of this day cavorting in the forest with that stranger and not at your post?"

"I, too, have scouted the forest for these creatures and your son and found both. Believe me, your majesty, it is far too dangerous to face them; especially for Legolas!" she exclaimed. "They are not harming him, but if provoked they may!"

"They are holding him captive?!" Thranduil exclaimed, a rage now beginning to burn in his icy brow. He turned back to his archers, stern as ever. "Find them and kill them all."

"No," Loki interjected more loudly, appearing behind the troop in a flash of greenish light. He stared firmly at Thranduil and tried to remain calm. "Listen to your Captain of the Guard, she has done more this day than any of your soldiers. Even I have not yet seen all that Malekith is capable of and the weapons he wields. Let well enough alone and send other scouts more cunning to know best how to undo them."

Thranduil moved forward halfway into the troop and glared hatefully at Loki. "You are no longer welcome in my presence. For all we know, you brought this monster with you!" Thranduil shouted. He slammed his staff into the ground and the archers turned, raising their bows and taking aim at Loki. Tauriel gasped and leapt gracefully from their perch above the throne room proper, leaping and twirling until she landed nearly silently in front of him. Thranduil frowned and glared all the more. "Leave."

Loki slowly and gently pushed Tauriel behind him as his garb began to glow bright golden and change. In place of the crown that Thranduil wore in all its natural magnificence, a pair of enormous golden horns like the crest of a Wyvern appeared atop an ornate golden helmet and a beautiful scepter with a green gem appeared in his hand, lengthening as he wrapped his fingers around its shaft. Thranduil's brow raised in amazement and the archers slightly lowered their bows, a few of them whispering at this sight. "I will not allow this forest to come to ruination and the destruction of so much life among its people or any from worlds beyond," Loki said with a regal flourish as he moved forward until he stood face to face with Thranduil. "Order your troops to return to their posts, send scouts to better your advantage, and give me authority to handle this matter at once."

"Who do you think you are in this realm to make such demands?!" Thranduil shouted.

"I am Loki, of Asgard, Jotunheim, Midgard, and worlds beyond worlds," the trickster stated proudly. "And I am burdened with so much more than just this noble purpose."

"You have no burden here," Thranduil hissed. "Display of grandeur or not you are a trespasser and I order you to . . ."

"Kneel," Loki interjected firmly and calmly. Thranduil and the others stared at him in shock. Loki leaned his face closer to the Elvenking's. "Kneel before me, and I will settle this matter without terrible bloodshed."

"I will do no such thing," Thranduil replied hotly, motioning for several of the guards in the throne room to come forward and drag the trickster away. As they moved forward, Loki raised his scepter slowly, leaned to the left of the Elvenking, and fired a blast that sent the guards several feet back and on their knees, coughing. Thranduil turned and stared in horror before turning back to the unyielding gaze of Loki.

"I said," Loki began, raising the scepter towards the large, carved coat of arms forged in Gondolin. He fired one blast, taking the head off of a stag and sending menacing sparks and green light in all directions. The archers cried out and instinctively knelt, covering their ears as Thranduil stared in disbelief. "KNEEL!" The archers and swordsmen dropped their weapons and continued their posture, kneeling and breathing heavily. Tauriel remained the only one standing other than Thranduil. Loki looked at her sternly and pointed the scepter towards the carving again. "Kneel, she-elf," he said coldly, hoping to establish authority that would, in being completely of the mindset for the betterment of her people, not mar the tenderness he was seeming to enjoy with her. Tauriel stared at him for a beat and would've stayed standing if her heart had not taken on grief like a ship filling with water in a storm. And just as the ship's hull in the water would've, her heart split in grief at thinking that this was merely another ruse and that he was only after what she had feared all along: the throne. Loki watched as a single tear fell from each eye and she knelt, not letting go of his gaze until he turned back to Thranduil. "Your kingdom has spoken. Your guards have failed. Your son is banished and your realm is teeming with creatures beyond your comprehension," Loki continued as he stood right in front of the Elvenking. Thranduil swallowed hard, taking in with desperation the sight of all the fear and potential destruction around him as well as the marred sigil on the carving. "Kneel," Loki said once more with a hint that it would not be said again.

Feeling his heart grow faint and, like an empty chalice, clatter to the floor, he took two unsteady steps backwards and slowly knelt. Everything began to close in about him. The banishing of his son. His refusal to listen to Tauriel about this stranger. Being unable to see the intruders. Loki watched the display in satisfaction and slowly strode up to the throne, taking his place and setting the end of the scepter against the side of his boot. The archers and others remained silent as the guards regained their composure, but knelt as well, lower, out of respect for their true king. Loki drew in a deep breath and surveyed his subjects thus far. This would do for a start. "Guards, take the late king, Thranduil, to his chambers, and keep him there without want for food or drink," he ordered, reveling in his own authority and simultaneous mercy. He turned to the troop before him. "Warriors return to your posts until you are called for more pressing duties." The archers and swordsmen slowly dispersed as the courtiers disappeared out of fear, leaving only Tauriel kneeling at the back of the room. Loki smiled out of pity and rose, quickly making his way to her. "You may rise now," he said.

"I haven't the strength nor the will," she whispered, looking up as it became clear more tears had fallen in the meantime. "Your majesty."

"Then here," he offered, oblivious to her words and emotions fueling them. He bowed and graciously reached out both hands for her. She recoiled and stumbled backwards as she stood, glaring at him. He frowned in confusion and stared back. "Tauriel, what has come over you?"

"I have my orders," she spat back. "I will return to my post AND scout for all that I can," she said, adjusting the straps on her gear angrily. Loki watched in confusion as she hurried past him. He had done nothing to harm her and this would lead to a great victory for her people, possibly a place at his side if she got her head together. He sighed and strode back up to the throne as Tauriel left through the two large doors leading out into the forest. He halted a moment before sitting as the doors began to close. For a moment, the briefest of moments, he thought he heard her sob . . . for him.