Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The Teacher	By : pip Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 14764 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Author's Note: And away we go with the next one. Here be spiders.

Chapter Twenty-six

They had been travelling for almost two weeks when they passed the beneath the first trees of Greenwood the Great. They had crossed the Misty Mountains and then, some days later, crossed the Anduin before it wound its way down south to pass the eastern edge of Lórien. Thranduil had set a punishing pace, and for Elrond it was almost torture. He found that the watchful peace had made him unused to traversing large distances, despite his habit of riding for pleasure. Cross-country riding was a different thing altogether, and though he had accompanied Celebrían sometimes during her visits to Lórien to speak with Galadriel and Celeborn, it was not enough, especially since their visits to the golden wood were sedate and leisurely.

The first week wasn't so bad, but now every night when they made camp, Elrond would fall into an exhausted slumber, his muscles sore and aching. It had surprised him when he found that he, Thranduil and Legolas were to travel alone. They hadn't brought anyone with them when they came to attend the meeting at Imladris, and Legolas had told him that it was safer to travel this way; that a large party would not pass through the more dangerous areas without forcing a confrontation. It sounded ominous, but Elrond knew they were all well capable of defending themselves, and each other.

The three of them didn't sleep in the open, but shared a small tent (for safety's sake and for warmth), just large enough for them to sleep side-by-side. At first, Elrond had been dubious, but the behaviour of both of his travel companions had been impeccable, except for two or three times when he'd awoken to find one or both of them with arms (and once a leg) draped over him in their sleep. But, since they slept fully clothed, it was a simple enough matter to nudge them away, waking them if necessary.

Legolas was very knowledgeable about the areas they were travelling, and where they would be passing through to reach the caves. As such, he said no guard would need to be set until they were a little further in. The spiders didn't venture to the edges of the forest, and besides they were all three of them light enough sleepers to be alert to danger. The horses would warn them if anything came too close to them in the night.

Two nights after they passed under the canopy of the trees, Elrond was dreaming. His horse was whinnying, and he mumbled for him to be quiet, turning over on his bedroll. As he did so, he could hear a gentle pitter-pattering on the canvas over his head, as of tiny creeping feet. In a flash of alarm, he was fully awake and alert, already reaching for his sword as he looked around him. Thranduil was, like him, half sat up on his bedroll.

“Shhh,” hissed Legolas at the other side of him. He was crouched on top of his sleeping space, a dagger in his hand, some peculiar quickening in his eyes, head tilted to listen. It was dark, and the only light was that of the moon and stars, filtered through the canvas of the tent. Legolas looked unearthly and untamed in the shadows. The horses were quiet now, just the tapping on the canvas remained to create unease in them all. Suddenly, Legolas smiled.

“It's just the rain,” he whispered, and Elrond relaxed. Of course it was.

Quickly, with a flash of movement, Legolas dropped the knife and cupped his hands around something in an upper corner of the tent. He opened his hands carefully, and a large black spider ran from his palm onto the back of his hand. Elrond shivered. Legolas watched it for a moment, his face impassive, then laughed in delight as it ran from one to the other of his hands at his encouragement.

“Stop playing with that thing and put it outside, Legolas!” said Thranduil behind him, making Elrond jump. With a secret smile, Legolas trapped the creature again, obviously an ordinary member of its species, and whispered a word or two into his hands that Elrond either did not catch or did not understand, before setting it free out of the flap in the front of the tent.

When his heart had regained a more normal rhythm, Elrond relaxed and laid back down. Thranduil did the same, yet Legolas remained crouching, his head made a couple of small sudden movements as if he was listening to something Elrond could not hear. He wondered how well Legolas had come to know Radagast then, for surely Thranduil had approached him for advice on the spiders, creatures of darkness though they were.

“We set a watch from tomorrow,” Legolas said at last, his posture having become still and thoughtful, then put away the dagger he had dropped before stretching himself out on his bedroll and falling asleep almost instantly.

Elrond turned around, only to find Thranduil had relaxed back into slumber as well. Elrond alone remained awake, staring at the canvas ceiling of the tent, listening to the rain. Eventually, he slept again too, but he remained uneasy even in his dreams, which were full of dark scuttling shapes and muffled screams.

Galadriel's voice was in his dreams too – something she had told him long ago, when he first learned of the spiders. If he had been paying proper attention, he would have made his way to Thranduil then, and been there to forestall his lonely grief over Nimbrethil.

“A shadow has fallen on Greenwood the Great.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had rained all day as they travelled, as if the cloud was following the same course as they were. When they made camp, still it fell, and Elrond was thankful for the shelter of the tent to sleep in. First watch was his, and as uneventful as Legolas had predicted. When he went to wake Thranduil to take his turn, he reclined on his blanket gratefully. The rain became a little heavier. He listened to it fall for a while, beating a constant tattoo as if it were trying to keep him awake, then he drifted off.

“Elrond!” There was a large hand on his shoulder, shaking him into wakefulness. Thranduil. It was still raining. Legolas' space was empty; he had taken last watch, Elrond and Thranduil had already taken their turn earlier in the night.

“What is it?” Elrond asked, and he wondered if it was windy outside too, because the rain was squally against the side of the tent. A huge dark shape moved over the canvas, and Elrond sat up immediately. It wasn't quite terror, but it was close. Elrond had never seen the spiders, and though he expected to have no trouble fighting them, the reminder of their forebear, Ungoliant, of whom he'd been taught as a child, filled him with superstitious dread.

Thranduil stopped shaking him, and his hand was heavy and still on Elrond as they listened, holding their breath. The noise hadn't been rain. Now it was quiet. What of Legolas? Suddenly there was a terrible shriek that didn't come from an elf. It almost hurt to hear it. Both Elrond and Thranduil were armed and outside the tent in seconds, just in time to see the giant spider writhing on the ground, it's legs pummelling the air in its death throes.

With a satisfied set to his face, Legolas pulled his sword free of the creature, looking around at them strangely. He lifted his head, and appeared to inhale the air. “It seems to have been alone,” he said. “Some of them are solitary and territorial, as if they're taking on the characteristics of their natural cousins.” He wiped his sword on a large leaf and sheathed it.

“And the others?” Elrond asked, unable to help moving closer to the dead spider to examine it. He suspected this was a smaller variety of those they would encounter later, about half the size of him. It had a black body, hairs on its legs, a paralysing stinger. It made him wonder about Legolas' words. Perhaps eventually the strain would die out, and become like any other species of spider. Smaller and likely harmless. There were some deadly spiders that were quite natural, but those injected venom via a bite.

“They live and hunt in packs,” Legolas said, watching Elrond all the while. Thranduil laid a hand on his arm, as if to stop him going any closer, but Elrond shook it off.

“Its eyes!” Elrond exclaimed. It had the eyes of a housefly, faceted like honeycomb. That made him think, and he worried his bottom lip before saying: “Would you say they see your attacks coming too soon?” he pondered. Flies saw in a series of frames, so that they had more time to react. It was why humans found them so irritating. Their reactions were often too slow.

“You must be quick,” Legolas confirmed, “and do not neglect to keep a watchful eye above, as well as around you. They,” he paused, frowned, the shook himself visibly. “They dangle in wait sometimes.”

Elrond nodded, and turned to Thranduil, who was giving him the oddest look, almost of apology. He remembered what Thranduil had told him in his study back at Imladris, and though he could say nothing in front of Legolas, he pulled Thranduil to him and held him close.

“They will grow in size as we go further,” Legolas predicted, then looked around. Realising they needed time, he stalked away to check on and comfort the horses with a curt nod.

“No,” Elrond said quietly into Thranduil's ear. “I see what you are thinking, but I do not see her in this. Neither should you.”

Pulling back, Thranduil smiled sadly. “Only you would know what to say to me now,” he admitted, but then he shook his head. “Save it for later, if you can.”

Elrond would have felt dismissed when Thranduil escaped his embrace and brushed past him to join Legolas, if not for the brief touch of the King's lips on his. Very well. He would cure Thranduil of this – guilt – whatever it was. They would begin as soon as they arrived. But first...

Looking eastward, Elrond tried to imagine what they were to face, and as he stood deep in thought, he saw a lightening of the sky. Dawn was coming upon them. By the time they had packed up and were moving on, it was full daylight, but they went forward into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made good time, as they did every day, with Thranduil urging them on. It was as if he wanted to have it over as soon as possible, and Elrond could not fault him for that. He, like Legolas, knew what it was they faced.

When the first of the webs appeared, it seemed so natural Elrond almost didn't notice. Whatever he had imagined, it was different to this. Maybe he'd thought the traps of the spiders would be obvious and gigantic, hanging between the trees, heavy with dew and raindrops. Yet they weren't. The first sight of them was on the ground, snaking between the plants like tendrils of low-lying mist, the threads that made them up so fine you could not separate them.

With only a look exchanged between them, father and son both dismounted, and Elrond did likewise, following their example as they led their horses forward on foot. The path they had been on wound through the trees in a large arc, with more and more of the gossamer webbing clinging to the bracken and brambles on the ground between the trees until it seemed like an insubtantial sea.

Elrond stroked his horse's mane as they walked forward slowly, speaking soothing words. Thranduil and Legolas let him pass them, beginning to walk in single file. They finally rounded the corner, and Elrond could walk no further, the words he had been speaking to his horse died on his lips, and his feet stilled.

In every direction hung webs so intricate it almost hurt to look, a vision of ethereal mist rising up to meet a drifting fall of translucent snow. The shapes they made were an endless procession of beguiling silver-white landscapes, their lines so perfect Elrond only want to fall and roll into them, maybe forever. He didn't realise he had let his horse go, wasn't aware of walking forward again until Thranduil pulled him back, a strong arm around his waist.

“Now do you see, Elrond?” he whispered. “Beautiful, isn't it? Enchanting, tempting, so delicate. Yet so strong it would hold the weight of all of us. And beneath the vision of loveliness, something so dangerous.”

The King's words only seemed to add to the spell, despite the warning in them. It looked like winter moonlight, caught and spun into reality by the trees, as if they could learn such an art. He only wanted to touch it. So soft. Almost like... he sighed. Nimbrethil's hair had been this fine and lustrous.

“Elrond!” His hands were trying to dislodge Thranduil's arm. He blinked, and the spell was broken. Turning quickly away, he looked at his two impossible lovers, neither of them was Oropher. There was a sense of relief among them all. He remembered Thranduil telling him to save his words for later, his denial of Nimbrethil's legacy. To Elrond it was still true. There was nothing of her here, only a memory, but he saw easily how it would translate to Thranduil, and his heart constricted in empathy. He shook his head.

“We will attend this,” he promised, his voice dark, staring at Thranduil, seeing that he was understood. “They are traps. Nothing more.” Then he looked at Legolas.

“Welcome to Mirkwood, Elrond, half-elven,” Legolas said. “These extend for perhaps five miles. There are,” he paused momentarily, “gaps. We have six or seven such stretches to navigate before we reach home. I doubt we will arrive there without incident.”

“Are there pathways through?” Elrond questioned, and Legolas nodded. Elrond smiled and swept his arm out. “Then you lead us, Prince of Mirkwood.”

Legolas led his horse forward, followed by Elrond, then Thranduil. “Remember what I said,” he warned, his voice echoing strangely among the trees. “Do not neglect to look up.”

As if commanded, Elrond did so, and could not suppress a gasp. There were no spiders, but there were victims. Mostly small animals; birds, badgers, hares, foxes. But there were others. Elrond was sure he saw a dead hand poking free of its binding. It wasn't big enough to be human. “A halfling!” Elrond exclaimed. Legolas looked up and nodded, dropping his gaze again.

“Some wander too far in here,” he said. “I've freed one or two, when I've come upon them in time. They say 'thank you' very politely and then run away,” he confided with a tolerant smile that died as he looked up again. “Though they tend to be luckier than most, I wish they would learn the lesson and keep out.”

They walked in silence after that, apart from the clip-clopping of the horses. It was strange, how silent the wood had become where the spiders gathered. The sounds of other living creatures were absent. Every now and again they would hear a distant rustling. None of them were fooled. And yet they passed through the first of these areas without encountering anything worse than a dead hobbit.

Their luck did not hold.

To be continued...

Author's Note: Well, I hope you enjoyed it! I hope you'll leave a comment! I will reply to any reviews here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/55964-pippychicks-lotr-fiction-review-responses/
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The Teacher