"What do you mean the king has a headache? He was perfectly fine just a few hours ago." Hinnorbes asked Tudor who just informed the healer of what he has heard. "And why do you look so bad? Have you been fighting every day?"
Tudor blinked and looked at his hands. His fingers were bleeding and he had a lot of dirt under his nails, his legs and arms were slightly trembling while his whole attire looked like he has been living in a wild land.
"Don't ask and don't tell anyone else about the king. I'm sure he already took something for his pain." Tudor chose to ignore the questions about his shape. It was better for people who were not military to go on with their usual lives and not know what was happening outside the borders.
"Glorfindel has been visiting quite often, hasn't he?" Hinnorbes changed the subject. "I wonder if it is about lady Mistril. King Thranduil has been melancholic ever since he received a gift from her."
"You mean the drawing in the library? It's very realistic, she really caught his essence." Tudor said remembering the last time he saw it. Nobody expected him to frame it and put it in such an honorable place, moreover, have Thranduil stare at it from time to time with nostalgia. "Do you think that maybe Thranduil has deeper feeling for Mistril than he wants to admit?" He suddenly asked.
Hinnorbes stopped and looked at him with wide eyes. Of course, that could explain a lot of his moods and glances at the gate as if he was waiting for someone.
"When there is a deep connection between two elves, some times it gets so strong that if something happens to one of them the other gets affected as well. Maybe that is why he has a headache..." she said, finishing the disinfection and applying ointment on Tudor's arms. "I'll go check on him now," she added and left the archer all by himself.
Only a few minutes later the door opened and Faervel barged in with an arrow still stuck in his abdomen.
"Where is Hinnorbes?" The commander asked as he sat on the bed. "Call her, or any other healer for that matter." He instructed Tudor.
An hour later, with his wound patched up and resting in his own bed, Faervel sighed heavily. The forest was being poisoned by evil and no matter how much he tried to keep it as far as possible from the Wooden Realm, it was getting worse.
"Sir," Tudor walked in with Faervel's son, who was just as tired as his father. "There are more and more orcs going to Dol Guldur. The number doubled over the last month. Something must be done,"
"And what do you want me to do? We already asked a few more men to be part of our brigade. If I tell Thranduil, he'll only enforce the borders and eventually make everyone move into the Halls. We need to fight back not retreat." He said in a stern tone.
"What about lord Glorfindel," his son started. "He must have told lord Elrond about our problem."
"He did but Elrond is busy enough with his own land. He can only send a few men to assist us but that's not enough. We don't need a war."
"We don't but the dwarves are ready to awaken a dragon in order to take back Erebor." Tudor said taking a step forwards. "What about them? They will come through Mirkwood soon and from what I heard, they have a wizard and a hobbit with them."
"A hobbit?" Faervel asked with a raised eyebrow. "Where are they exactly?"
Tudor shrugged and looked at Faervel's son, who shrugged in response.
"We have the spiders and the fortress to worry about. A few dwarves and their friends automatically take second place on our scale of high risk. Father, someone has to enter Dol Guldur and inform us of what is truly happening there."
Faervel and Tudor glanced at each other, the latter growing pale at the mere thought of setting foot near that place.
"Not yet. Let's deal with the dwarves first, see how much ruckus they will cause and maybe we won't have to go in. I'm sure evil has eyes everywhere and also knows about their company." Faervel said and laid back as a sign for the two to leave.
Thranduil was lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling with a confused expression. His headaches begun soon after Legolas left for Lothlorien and yet they intensified a few hours ago. The pain was so strong, it was just as if someone was trying to enter his mind, forcing it to open up and that wasn't working. He wondered if it was because of Mistril and the link she created towards him but it felt as if this immense force was not coming from her but from something else.
A knock interrupted his daydream and with more or less care, he answered.
"I'm sorry, my lord, but I heard of your headache and prepared a calming potion for you." Hinnorbes started as she took a few steps inside his room.
Thranduil looked at her and unconsciously frowned. Hinnorbes' figure was so fragile and feminine compared to Mistril's warrior form. He shook his head as he started to think about that elleth again. He had better things to do at the moment.
"I'm alright now. You can go back." He stated without a second glance at her.
"If you drink it, it will not only calm your pain but also lady Mistril's. If you two are indeed connected by a strong bond, you feel her pain. If it is so, she will also feel your ease." She continued before she placed the phial on the bed and left with a bow.
Thranduil did take the medicine and was able to fall asleep thanks to it. But next morning he woke up with a jolt, his ears ringing and head spinning. Whatever was going on in Lothlorien, he really hoped it would stop already.
But the evil was gaining more and more power and Mistril's condition was growing worse. Gweluven shuddered when the Shadow of Angmar glared at him while still chained to the bed.
"You do know what this means, don't you?" Gweluven asked Lord Celeborn once he left the healing rooms. "She is not suddenly having these fits out of desire."
"No, she is not,"
Gweluven frowned as Lady Galadriel entered her own home. She walked past the healer and went to her husband, having a silent agreement before she continued.
"Evil is at work in Dol Guldur. The forest of Mirkwood is being assaulted by monsters." She looked up at Legolas, who just entered when the subject became interesting. "But the wood elves are prepared, I see." She added with a smile as she saw inside Legolas' mind.
"How can we help you, Legolas?" Lord Celeborn asked after a few minutes of silence. He knew his wife knew already from the way she was staring at the young prince but the others did not.
"I want to take Mistril to Mirkwood. The years she spent with us were the only ones when she didn't have any problems. Gweluven can tend to her and-"
"No," was Galadriel's quick answer. "I know you care for her but she cannot return to Mirkwood. Not now, not ever."
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