As a father himself, Bard knew it would be hard to deal with the death of one’s children, especially when it comes in a sudden. Bard’s heart felt heavy when he delivered the news to the Master. There had been problems with the Master and his son for a long time, but he surely loved Jensen.
Alfrid exchanged a glance with the Master, and then he took the Master by his arm to help him sit down. There was a brief silence in the room.
“So—how did it happen, anyway?” the Master asked with a trembling voice. He closed his eyes, waiting for the answer.
Alfrid took a deep breath. “The Elves, of course.”
“The Elves?” the Master repeated.
“We have no prove. Don’t make any conclusion too early.” Bard narrowed his eyes.
“We got an alibi. He said he saw the Elves.” Alfrid interjected.
“But he didn’t say that he saw them killed Jensen.” Bard looked straight into Alfrid’s eyes. “Besides, that is their territory. It’s their rule, not ours. If Jensen intruded their land, the Elves have the right to—”
“Enough, I want to hear no more,” The Master said.
“Maybe it was a wolf,” one of the Master’s men said. “Summer is a perfect time for them to hunt.”
“No, I—actually— ‘we’ saw the wound. He was cut by a blade, an Elvish blade.” Alfrid said. He pointed his finger to Bard. “You were there. You saw it too.”
Bard turned to Alfrid. “Yes, but it is inconclusive. Any blade can make such a wound.”
The Master got up and paced back and forth. “How dare they did this to my son?” He clasped his hands to call for his servant. “Send a message to the Elven King. We need a compensation for my loss—one million in Castars.”
“And if they refuse?” Bard asked.
“Blood for blood,” Alfrid replied.
Bard crossed his arms. “We have nothing to fight back. They will slaughter us like pigs.” He shoke disagreement while Alfrid raised his eyebrows.
The Master gave Bard a hard look. “The compensation must be paid.”
“But not in the expense of our people’s lives.” Bard swallowed.
Alfrid smiled grimly as he leaned forward to face Bard. “Are you afraid?”
“And don’t you? It’s not worth to march for war without knowing for sure they did it.” Bard said.
“Any suggestion?” The Master looked at Bard puzzling.
“Open an investigation. Do it quietly.” Bard suggested.
"What a waste of time." Alfrid put his hands on his waist. “Then what? If the Elves did it and then what?”
“Then we fight,” Bard said. He turned to the Master. “But make sure Jensen’s death is unjust. If the Elves have a good reason to kill him, then he deserved it.”
The Master pursed his lips and nodded agreement. “Fair enough.”
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As Sigrid climbed up, Legolas helped her got up on her feet. He looked into a crack on the rooftop and found the body lay on a wooden table, waiting to be moved to the cemetery.
“You wait here,” Legolas said.
“I’ll go with you.” Sigrid shook her head. As she could see from above, there was no one in the room so she thought it might be safe for her to go down. “I’ll cover your back. Otherwise, you might get caught.”
“You will slow me down,” Legolas said.
Sigrid bridled. “No, I won’t. Don’t underestimate me. I’m stronger than you think.”
Legolas pulled a dagger from his pocket. “Then keep this.”
By the time they landed on the ground, Sigrid had heard Alfrid’s harsh voice outside the room. She crouched down under the table and held the dagger tightly in her hand. Luckily, Alfrid walked away without coming into the room. Sigrid lit the lantern on the wall, a stupid mistake, she admitted. But it was too dark for her to see anything, unlike Legolas who has sharp eyes like a hawk. The smell of rotten flesh struck Sigrid. She covered her mouth with a handkerchief while Legolas took off the blanket from Jensen’s body.
“Don’t be a coward,” Legolas teased at Sigrid.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not—but—I don’t like the smell of blood.”
“Me neither, but I’m used to it. This is surely not the worst I’ve seen.”
Slowly Legolas examined the body. The wound was deep from Jensen’s left shoulder to his belly, a clean-cut manner. He ran his finger on the bruises around Jensen’s shoulder and turned to Sigrid. “Hand me the knife.” He pointed to the knife on the table.
Sigrid stood motionless as if she hadn’t heard Legolas’s request. A pang of horror kicked in her stomach.
“Hand me the knife,” Legolas repeated.
Sigrid’s hands were trembling. She reluctantly gave Legolas the knife. She had wanted to ask him what he would do, but deep down inside she knew exactly what would happen next.
And then Legolas cut Jensen’s torso without any hesitation.
Sigrid wanted to scream, but she didn’t want to draw any attention from the guards outside so she kept quiet. She closed her eyes as Legolas took a closer look at the wound and the new cut.
“It is—almost identical,” Legolas said.
“What?”
“I said the wounds are almost identical. It’s not an Elvish sword that killed him. Just take a look. This is the cut from that ordinary knife and this is the one before.”
Sigrid’s eyes met his and she nodded agreement. She stepped away as Legolas folded the blanket back to cover Jensen’s body. A wave of nausea flooded Sigrid. “So this is all you want to see?”
“I need to be sure that it’s not one of my soldiers,” Legolas said, “to avoid any false allegation from now on, understood?”
Sigrid gasped for air as they slowly climbed back to the rooftop.
As they landed on the ground, Legolas gave Sigrid a lantern before walking away.
“Wait. What will you do next?” Sigrid asked.
“Nothing. It’s all done. I have other assignments from the King that require immediate attention from me.”
“That’s it?” Sigrid frowned.
“That’s it. I cannot waste any more time.” He nodded. “Or do you have any suggestion?”
Sigrid looked deep into his eyes. “Bring your King here. Tell him to come. He needs to talk to the Master himself.”
Legolas’s eyes were wide open for several minutes. “I admire your sense of humor, but our King is not going to speak to—let says a person with a lower status. He is too gracious.”
“Our Master needs a closure.” Sigrid bit her lip.
“Yes, but it’s not our men who kill him so it’s your own problem. Besides what good is it to bring the King here?” Legolas said. “He will only bring more tears for your people.”
“What do you mean? So the rumor is true?”
“Forget about those bedtime stories, shall we? I must go now. Thank you very much for your help today. You are very kind. Novaer,” Legolas said without looking at her and disappeared into the dark like a ghost.
“Novaer? What that supposes to mean?” Sigrid shouted behind him, but there was no reply.
Bard was sitting on the porch when Sigrid arrived home. Tilda and Bain had gone to bed already so Sigrid didn’t have a chance to tell Bain about her discovery. Bard’s face was hardened. He folded his arms as Sigrid stood at the front door, trying to think of any excuse for coming home late.
They had looked at each other in silence for a long moment before Sigrid decided to speak up. “I was at the dock, talking with some friends and then I forgot about the time. Sorry, father.”
“Don’t. Stop there.” Bard raised his hand and took a deep breath. “I went there but didn’t find you. Don’t lie. Where were you?”
“Walking around—That’s all,” Sigrid lowered her shoulders.
“Fine. If you’re not going to tell me, no dinner tonight.”
Sigrid kept her head low as Bard let her inside the house. This night would be long, but all she was thinking about was Legolas.
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Mirkwood, Third Age, 2941
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Amidst of the heavy rain, the thunder stroke. The King woke up, shivering by a dread nightmare that had been troubled him for months. He crouched under his silk blanket, trying to hide from the beast, and then he realized that it was only a dream that chase him in the dark. He got up and wiped a bead of sweats on his forehead. ‘How can I be such a fool?’ He thought. And then he rose up from his bed to call for his servant.
“Send a message to Elrond,” the King said. “Tell him to come.”
The servant bowed and jotted down his message on a parchment. “My Lord, May I ask what is troubling you?”
The King put on his golden tunic. “Dreams, they are nonsense, of course, but I need to talk to Elrond. And call my son now. I also need to speak with him.”
The King had sat on his throne in silence for a long time. He rose up to greet his son enthusiastically as the Prince came in.
“Alas! My son. What took you so long? Come, come. Tell me what you have found in the forest?”
The Prince bowed. “Nothing much, father. Just a body of a man.”
“I heard about that. Can we be certain that this is not going to bring us any trouble?” One of the guards standing next to the throne said.
“The man was the son of the Master. There are some rumors that we killed him.” The Prince replied.
“But we didn’t, did we?” The King said.
Legolas gave the King a black look and became silent.
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