Chapter 9
Just as Aretil was describing the sunshine of Nargothrond to Meereen with the joy of regaining his freedom, an extremely slight "hiss" like a poisonous snake breaking through the air tore through the tranquility of the early morning!
"Ugh!" Aretiel's body stiffened suddenly, the smile on her face instantly frozen, transformed into extreme pain and disbelief. She stumbled a step and looked down at her chest. A pitch-black arrow, entangled with thorn-like barbs, was lodged deep below her left shoulder blade, the tail trembling! Dark purple venom, like corrupted blood, seeped from the grooves of the arrow shaft at a visible speed, quickly staining her dark green hunting uniform black and spreading to her skin!
"Aridil!" Meereen's soul was shattered. He immediately rushed over to support her limp body. His touch was icy cold. Her body temperature was rapidly dropping. Her azure eyes quickly lost focus, covered with a layer of deathly gray. Her lips moved, but no sound came out, only the spasms of extreme pain.
"No! No! Hold on!" Fear gripped Meereen's heart. He jerked his head upward, his sharp gaze like a knife sweeping in the direction of the arrow. A dark, dark green figure flashed through the dense, frozen darkness of the undergrowth, swift as a ghost merging into the shadows.
Eol! It was indeed him!
Rage exploded in Meereen's chest like magma, but saving lives was paramount! He suppressed his rage and hatred and quickly lifted Aretilor onto his back. She was even lighter than before, as if her life was rapidly slipping away. Meereen discerned the direction and ran deep into the woods, away from the path, into a denser and more rugged landscape. He had to find a safe place to heal his wounds immediately!
In a natural stone cave hidden by huge fallen trees and vines, Milin carefully put Aretilla down. Her breathing was so weak that she had almost stopped, her face was as pale as paper, and dark purple poison marks spread from the wound to her neck and half of her cheek like an ugly spider web.
Meereen drew the sharp flint he had carried with him, which Eol had taught him to identify, and cut through the clothing surrounding Aridil's wound. Looking at the hideous wound and the pitch-black arrow shaft entwined with barbs, a chill ran through his head. The shape of the arrow, the design of the barbs, the process of poisoning... He knew it all too well. This was undoubtedly one of the most sinister creations from Eol's workshop. He had underestimated Eol's hatred for Aridil, and even more so, the depth of his twisted, possessive desire for her!
He gritted his teeth, carefully cutting open the flesh with a flint, widening the wound. Suppressing the nausea and heartache, he peeled the barbs from Aretiel's body bit by bit. Each inch he pulled out brought out more dark purple-black, poisonous blood that exuded a pungent, fishy stench. When the arrowhead, gleaming with an ominous dark purple glow, was finally completely extracted, Meereen's hands trembled. Eol's distinctive runes were etched on the arrowhead, irrefutable proof!
He immediately chewed up every antidote he could find and applied it to the wound, then tore off a strip of cloth and bandaged it tightly, trying to slow the spread of the poison. He once again tried to channel the warmth within him, his hands draped over the wound. A silver light shone brighter than ever, like tiny stars struggling in the darkness. He could sense the powerful life force within Aridil fighting a desperate battle against the terrifying poison, but the poison, like a tarsal ulcer, was incredibly stubborn. His healing powers could only barely cling to her last shred of life, unable to dispel or neutralize this poison, designed to target powerful creatures!
Aretiel briefly regained consciousness, gasping in pain, his voice as thin as a thread: "Poison... Such a strong poison... Meereen... I can't take it anymore..."
"Don't talk, save your energy!" Milin felt as if his heart was being cut by a knife.
Just then, rough shouts and heavy footsteps were faintly heard from outside the cave. Oak, they had tracked us nearby, must have been attracted by the noise or the smell of blood.
Aretil's eyes flashed with determination. She grasped Meereen's arm, her nails digging into his flesh. "Hear... hear me... Meereen... go... to... Gondolin... to my brother... Turgon... only... Gondolin... can save me... and... protect you... from... Eol and... Orcs..."
"Tell me how to get there!" Meereen demanded eagerly. This was the only way to survive!
Aridil gasped hard, and with his last bit of strength, he described in fragments an extremely secret path: go upstream along a secret tributary of the Sirion River, find the secret pass above the seven waterfalls, under the specific starlight, chant the ancient door-opening spell to an inconspicuous rock somewhere on the mountain wall... Every detail was precious.
"Remember... the spell..." Aretiel's voice became weaker and weaker. Finally, after barely repeating the ancient and difficult Quenya spell, she tilted her head and fell into a deep coma. Her breath was as weak as a candle in the wind.
Meereen tied her tightly to his back, grabbed the deadly poison arrow as evidence, rushed out of the stone cave, and plunged into the vast forest without looking back, fleeing towards the direction pointed by Aridil. Behind him, the sickening roar of the Orcs was getting closer and closer.
The days that followed were the most arduous and desperate journey Meereen had endured since his fall to Middle-earth. He carried the unconscious, dying Aredil on his back, trekking through the treacherous mountains and forests. They dodged Orc patrols, braved the harsh weather, and subsisted on wild fruits and stream water. Aredil's condition worsened, dark purple poison marks spreading across her body. Her body alternately felt cold as a corpse and scorching as a charcoal. Her unconsciousness grew longer and longer, her occasional mutterings garbled. Meereen could only constantly change the dressings, the herbs long exhausted and providing little effect. Over and over, he strained his strength to channel the healing power, the faint silver light the only driftwood on Aredil's sea of life. He clutched Finrod's alabaster flask, trying to draw from it the courage and faith to persevere, but the shadow of despair always loomed.
After countless days and nights, when Meereen's physical strength and will were on the verge of collapse, he finally found the hidden tributary according to Ariel's description, climbed to the top of the seven roaring waterfalls, and under the starry sky, facing the huge mountain wall that seemed to be normal, he sang the ancient and sacred Quenya spell with a hoarse and cracked throat.
Under the starlight, the mountain wall rippled softly, like the surface of water. A soft white archway, barely wide enough for two people to pass through, silently appeared within the rock! Behind it was a hidden passage paved with pristine white stone slabs, extending upwards!
Milin used up his last bit of strength and rushed into the light gate with Aretil on his back. The mountain wall behind him instantly recovered as it was before, completely isolating him from the darkness and danger outside.
Before he could even catch his breath, several figures as swift as the wind swooped down from the shadows above the passage! The cold blades of swords instantly pressed against his throat and heart! The glaring torchlight illuminated his gaunt, grimy, and bloodstained face, as well as Aretil, who lay unconscious on his back, emitting an ominous purple aura.
"Stop! Intruder!" The leading elven warrior had golden hair as bright as the sun and a resolute and handsome face. At this moment, his eyes were as sharp as an eagle, full of vigilance and cold anger! "Put down Aredil! Tell me! Who are you? What did you do to her?!" The other elven warriors also glared at him, obviously thinking that Meereen was the despicable murderer who attacked the princess and attempted to break into Gondolin.
"I... I am Meereen... I saved her... She was poisoned..." Meereen spoke with difficulty, his voice hoarse.
"Poisoned?" Glorfindel's gaze glared colder as he took in the horrific, barely bandaged wound beneath Arethel's shoulder blade and the purple scars that covered his body. "What poison? Who did it? How do you know the entrance to Gondolin?" His questions were like a barrage of questions.
Meereen looked at the cold blade against his throat, then at Aretil, who lay dying on his back. He couldn't say Eol's name, not only because Eol was an elf, but also because of that twisted relationship and the complex emotions that had yet to subside in his heart. He chose to remain silent, only looking at Glorfindel with tired but determined eyes: "Save her... Save her first... Please..."
"Take him away, cast him into the dungeons, and keep him under strict guard." Seeing he didn't answer, Glorfindel acted decisively. Meereen and Aredil were immediately separated. Aredil was carefully and swiftly carried away to the healer in the Tower of the King. Meereen was roughly disarmed, heavily shackled, and taken to the dreary dungeons deep within Gondolin, beneath the city's foundations.
The days that followed were doubly agonizing for Meereen. He was confined in a cramped, cold, sunless stone cell, fed only cold water and coarse bread. King Turgon personally interrogated him several times. The Hidden King's majesty was like a mountain, his eyes deep and cold, filled with scrutiny and suspicion. He questioned Meereen's origins, the circumstances of Arethel's injury, the source of the poisoned arrow, and the means of entering Gondolin. Meereen remained silent, repeatedly insisting that he had saved Arethel and pleading to save her first. Turgon interpreted his silence as stubbornness and guilt. Gondolin's healers struggled, using all sorts of precious herbs and elven magic to barely keep her life flame ablaze. This only reinforced the elves' suspicion that Meereen was the culprit, having used some foul poison to murder Arethel.
After an unknown amount of time, the sound of hurried footsteps and the rattle of a key in the lock echoed outside. The door was opened from the outside, and the glaring light made Meereen squint. He saw Aretiel standing in the doorway, supported by two maids. Her face was still pale, and her body was frail. Although the terrifying dark purple poison mark had mostly faded, traces still remained. Her eyes were unusually bright, filled with anxiety and anger.
"Meereen!" Seeing the shackled and haggard Meereen, Aretil called out in pain, broke free from the support of the maid, and staggered to Turgon. Turgon and Glorfindel rushed over after hearing the news.
"Brother! Release him! Release him now!" Aridil's voice was weak but resolute. "He didn't hurt me! He saved me! Without him, I would have died under Eol's vicious arrow! It was Meereen who carried me across half of Nan Elmoth, avoiding the Orcs, to bring me here! He is my savior! Not a prisoner!"
Turgon looked at his sister, who had escaped death, and then at Meereen, who lay silent in his cell. For the first time, a trace of emotion and confusion crossed his dignified face. "Eol? The Dark Elf of Nan Elmoth? He was the one who wounded you? Then why won't Meereen tell the truth?"
"He..." Arethel glanced at Meereen, his eyes filled with complex understanding. "He may have his concerns... But brother, I swear by the stars that Meereen is innocent. He is a friend of Finrod and me. Gondolin cannot treat its benefactor like this."
Turgon was silent for a moment, his eyes piercing the horizon of Meereen. Finally, he waved his hand and said, "Unchain him."
The heavy shackles were removed, and Meereen moved his stiff wrists. He looked at Aretil, his eyes filled with fatigue and a hint of relief.
Turgon's next words made his heart sink again. "Man Meereen, you saved Aretil, that is a fact, and Gondolin is grateful for your kindness. But your origins are unknown, and you know the entrance to Gondolin. This is an unprecedented exception and a huge risk. For the secrecy and safety of Gondolin, you cannot leave for the time being, nor can you walk around the city at will."
He turned to the blond Elf Lord beside him: "Glorfindel."
"Your Majesty." Glorfindel took a step forward, his golden hair shining in the light coming through the high windows. The look he gave Meereen was no longer cold, but still scrutinizing and with a hint of lingering doubt.
"You will be responsible for guarding Meereen. Place him in the secret garden courtyard in the east wing of the palace. He must not leave the courtyard or contact any of the people of Gondolin without your permission. Ensure his safety and peace." Turgon's order was filled with unquestionable majesty. It seemed like a release, but in fact it was a higher level of house arrest.
A secret garden courtyard? It looked more like a beautiful cage. Meereen looked at Turgon, then at Aretil's helpless and apologetic eyes, and finally at Glorfindel. The Lord of the Golden Flower nodded slightly to him, his eyes calm.
Freedom seemed so near, yet so far away. He had escaped Eol's shadowy palace, only to find himself trapped in Gondolin's golden cage. The road ahead was still shrouded in mystery.
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