Silence of the Night
Stories > Tales of Shadow > Silence of the Night
The room was dark and
silent. No light or sound came through the big window. A little form on
the bed shifted restlessly, frowning in its sleep. It was quiet and
peaceful around but inside the elfling's mind horrific nightmares were
plaguing its sleep. With a soft gasp that seemed like a loud cry in
the still chilly air, Legolas awoke sitting in his bed. He was panting
for breath, eyes wide in horror. Crystal drops of cold sweat formed on
his fair brow, his long, silky hair sticking to it.
Minutes passed but the elfling remained motionless, his fear freezing
him to the spot. Each beat of a pulse sounded like a loud drum to
Legolas' own ears. His heart was racing wildly and his brain was caught
in a net of horror, his nerves extremely tensed. It seemed his own room
had turned alien and dangerous, each shadow materializing into a
cruel monster, each dark corner hiding something to hurt him.
Legolas remembered his father telling him that it was only his
imagination, but this knowledge wasn't strong enough to win against the
all-consuming terror and pure panic.
His body refused to move, even when Legolas finally collected his will
and courage. He needed to find someone, to be calmed, to see the
light... Legolas struggled desperately with himself, calling on all his
bravery for help. At last his cold, numb limbs moved. Slowly, one inch
after the other, he moved his covers away. All this time his senses
were sharp, catching each smallest rustle, each squeak. His fear
doubled sounds, making them resemble someone's stealthy steps just
outside his room.
Swallowing hard, Legolas got on his feet in one fast move and froze in
fear waiting for some imagined monster to come to life. Minutes passed
slowly, measured only by the crazy heartbeats of the elfling. As nothing
happened, Legolas felt a little more confident and started walking to the door.
He knew every inch of his room, every spot on the floor, but it took
all his will to put one foot in front of another for he expected to
find it meeting empty air as if some bottomless chasm would suddenly
appear right in front of him. It took agonizingly long for him to cross
the room and get to the door. Cold stone chilled his bare feet slowing
him even more. But finally the doorknob was firmly clenched in Legolas'
fist.
After taking one calming breath, the elfling opened the door slightly and
peered outside the room. The corridor was completely empty, dark and
cold. Legolas swallowed once more. He knew his father's room was a few
meters away from his own; surely he could walk that far. Taking one
uncertain step, he left the room. The elfling shivered. Legolas put one
hand on the wall, feeling somewhat more sure with the solid surface
under his palm. Step by step, he made his way down the corridor. His
heart was beating so strongly that he couldn't hear any other sound.
Finally his hand rested at the door to his father's room. He knew it
was unlocked so that he could come in at any time that he wanted.
Grabbing the doorknob, Legolas pushed the door. His panic increased when
the door remained closed. He felt almost deaf, hearing only the rumbling
sound of his blood in the ears. He whimpered slightly, pushing the door
once more.
The elfling stumbled into his father's sleeping chamber, almost fainting
from relief. He needed a few moments before he could do anything. At
last he was able to think relatively clearly. He glanced at his father.
The elder elf was sleeping, his face calm and peaceful. Strangely,
Legolas felt as if he was alone. Even as he was standing near his
father, the fear didn't go away. The elfling was ready to cry, but he
didn't want to wake his father.
A lonely ray of the moonlight lightened the silent scene. The larger
elf was sleeping on the big bed, his fair hair spilled over the
pillows, and the little elfling was standing in the doorway with tears
sparkling in his eyes.
Thranduil frowned slightly in his sleep, sensing someone's presence. He
awoke and focused his eyes on the form in the darkness.
"Legolas?" he asked softly, sitting up.
The elfling silently ran forward and jumped into his father's waiting
arms. A few tears rolled down his cheeks. Thranduil sighed, caressing
his son's hair, noticing with concern the coldness of the elfling's
skin. He gently pulled the blanket on top of his son and sang an old
lullaby, his soft voice intertwining with the silence of the night.
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