Chapter 6: To find and to lose

Alas for us all! And for all that walk the world in these after-days. For such is the way of it: to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is on the running stream. But I count you blessed, Gimli son of Gloin: for your loss you suffer of your own free will, and you might have chosen otherwise. But you have not forsaken your companions....Legolas, The Fellowship of the Ring

Lying in his own bed, Thranduil listened to the reassuringly normal sounds of his household awakening in the stronghold. The elleth that lit the lamps and fire in his sitting room had just entered his chambers and was adding wood to the fire. The servants were singing while readying the dining room for breakfast. Hallion was greeting the guards at the doors as he passed through the outer corridor to the office at its far end. And Thranduil also caught a word here and there of Legolas speaking with Galithil in his room next door. Legolas typically slept until just before breakfast was served and it was now even earlier than Thranduil normally arose. He wondered what occasion had inspired his son and foster son to get up so early.

Whatever it might be, after nearly a month away from the stronghold, held prisoner in Dolgailon's village while recovering sufficiently from this accursed wound to ride home rather than be carried home, Thranduil was able to thoroughly appreciate the simple familiarity of home.
 
Next to him, Lindomiel stirred, drew a deep breath and turned over, one arm draping across him as she did. He looked at her in time to see a little smile play across her lips as her arm wrapped around him, drawing her more snugly against him. He closed his eyes momentarily and lost himself in her warmth. She had stayed with him in the village fussing over him, or, in her words, looking after him, there. Naturally, he much preferred his wife's care--and mere presence--over a healer's, so he appreciated her sacrifice. And a sacrifice he knew it to be. It was now nearly winter and Lindomiel had been absent during most of the preparation of the winter foodstuffs. She had a great deal of work to catch up on now that they had finally returned to the stronghold.

Selfishly hoping to hold her in place a moment longer, Thranduil reached to cover her hand with his own and found it resting just above the puckered, pink scar across his abdomen. He sighed as he traced a light pattern on her wrist with his thumb. His wound was largely healed and the scar would eventually fade, just as all the others he had born in the past had faded.

Just as the scar that the orcs had made on Lindomiel's face and neck was almost faded.

He tensed involuntarily at the thought and turned his head to look at her cheek. The idea that an orc had laid its foul hands on his wife.... Thranduil closed his eyes in an effort to banish the thought, but his mind refused to turn from it. What was even worse was the fact that Lindomiel had seen a good part of what the orcs had done to her mother and had a fairly accurate grasp of what they had intended to do to her. Thranduil had been utterly horrified to realize that while questioning how she had received those cuts. Amglaur would kill him for allowing such evil to enter into his daughter's understanding.

Except Amglaur was in Mandos along with his wife.

Thranduil had not yet begun to try to understand how he felt about losing Amglaur and Limmiel. He found their loss surprisingly difficult to face.

In an effort to drive away the darkness, Thranduil leaned over and placed a light kiss on Lindomiel's cheek, just over the scar. Then, he traced kisses down her neck, stopping where the scar stopped, just above her breast.

Lindomiel laughed and, grasping his shoulder, pushed him gently--still mindful of his injury--onto his back. She leaned over him, her hair tickling his bare chest, smiling down at him. The light of her smile drove away any lingering shadow in his thoughts.

"You," she said, kissing him briefly on the lips, "are supposed to be resting from our journey here yesterday. You are not supposed to be awake yet, much less instigating...activities," she kissed him again, "that will exhaust you and that you are not yet well enough healed to participate in."

Thranduil grinned at her, grasped the wrist of the arm she was propped up on and pulled, causing Lindomiel to fall onto her back. She laughed as he rolled onto her. "Shall we see what I am capable of?" he whispered against her ear, silencing her answer with another kiss. She was likely correct that his wound still caused him too much pain for this to go very far, but he was more than willing to try to prove her wrong.

To his surprise, Lindomiel did not resist that kiss, indeed she deepened it. When she finally broke it, she did not try to pull away. Instead she drew him closer, both arms around him, face buried against his neck. "Come have a bath with me," she whispered. "I must go down to the kitchens--I truly fear to see what state they are in--but I find I cannot tear myself away from you yet." She tightened her arms around him. "Oh Thranduil, I will never forget how lucky I am to still have you after coming so close to losing you. I always admired Dieneryn's strength. I know I am fortunate to have only a glimpse of what she endured, but even with just that glimpse, I can better appreciate it. I will never take another moment with you for granted again."

Thranduil propped himself up on his elbows, ignoring the flare of pain that caused, and studied Lindomiel carefully. She did not appear even slightly sad, despite her last words. The look she gave him was filled with love--the same he always saw when holding his wife. If anything was different, it was that she seemed even more intently focused on him.

He stifled a sigh as he pushed himself off the bed and drew her up with him, silently leading her to the bathing chamber. During his convalescence, fears over how this battle had affected Lindomiel--and Legolas and Galithil, of course--had weighed on him heavily and there was very little he could do about it. Legolas and Galithil had returned to the stronghold as soon as guards capable of safely escorting them had arrived in the village. They had been beyond his help and he was anxious to speak to them now that he was home.

He had done all he could for Lindomiel--all that she allowed him to do--but that was also very little. He had insisted that she talk to him about the death of her parents--the first close family she had ever lost. And he had kept to himself his own grief and the terror he felt each time he envisioned orcs surrounding her. Unfortunately, her fears of losing him were something he could do nothing about. There was no doubt that he would fight in many more battles or that he could be killed in any one of them. And there was no doubt that she understood that all too well, now. Knowing that, he admired her ability to focus on what she still had, rather than on what she had lost. That was always a difficult endeavor for Thranduil, except in her presence.

They reached the bath and he turned the valve that allowed water from the hot spring to fill the tub. Then he turned and looked at Lindomiel. She was smiling at him as she slipped the buttons that fastened her shift. Except in her presence indeed! As easily as looking at her, all thoughts of the battle and its aftermath were driven from his mind. His wife was his only focus as her shift floated to the floor.

*~*~*

Thranduil opened the door that led into the corridor and paused, looking for guards, or more importantly, Lindomiel or any of her staff that might be spying for her. No one was present. He stepped quietly into the corridor, closed the door to his bed chambers and quickly covered the short distance between it and the door to his private office. He opened the office door, slipped through it and closed it behind himself, glancing around the office as he stood with his back to its door.  

"I am sneaking around my own keep like a thief!" he said out loud to no one with an amused voice. Under normal circumstances, such a statement would be delivered in very bitter tones at best. But after the morning he had just shared with his wife, it would take a great deal to spoil his mood.

He glanced at his desk. The papers awaiting him there might make at least a dent in it.

Thranduil could only imagine the work that awaited him. He could only imagine it because Lindomiel insisted, and the rest of the family had the nerve to support her, that he needed more recovery time before returning to work. He placed a hand over his belt, pressing it there tightly, and sighed. He was fine. Perfectly well healed. Or at least well enough to sit behind his desk. Today would be a working day for him--starting now, before breakfast, so he was well entrenched in work before his family found out and tried to defy him.

He looked around his empty office. It was a little earlier than he and Hallion normally began work, but still Thranduil thought his steward's absence was odd because he had heard him earlier in the corridor. He shrugged. Maybe Hallion was fetching some fruit from the basket in the dining room and intended to work through breakfast. Well, he would soon see he had been smart to assume he would have to work through breakfast. Thranduil expected it would take most of the day for him to catch up on all that he had missed.

He walked further into the room. Only one lamp was lit--the one on the meeting table. The lamp that sat on his desk was missing. He frowned at that. Then he turned that frown on the stack of documents on the table. He normally placed letters that were ready for the couriers in that particular location. If Hallion was not here, how could the morning correspondence already be finished? Perhaps Hallion had finished it the night before. Thranduil walked over to the table and picked up the top letter.

It was written in Legolas's handwriting and had Thranduil's seal attached to it. He scanned it quickly. It appeared to be a perfectly proper response to a request that one of the village leaders made. Either Hallion or Legolas must have accidently afixed the seal to the copy Legolas made instead of the original. Thranduil shrugged and put the letter back in its place. It hardly mattered whose handwriting it was written in. He glanced through the rest of the letters and then walked over to his desk. There were stacks and stacks of papers there. The backlog of work, no doubt.

Stepping behind the desk, Thranduil picked up one of the papers on it and his eyebrows went up. It was again in Legolas's hand. Hallion had written some notes on the bottom of it. Thranduil read more carefully. This was another letter, but it sounded familiar. He walked back over to the letters on the table and shuffled through them, picking one out in particular. Then he held it next to the one from his desk, comparing them. The one that had been left for the couriers was essentially the same as the one on the desk, save that it incorporated the information in the note Hallion had added.

Thranduil laughed lightly. Normally, Hallion read correspondence from the villages and wrote a recommended response, which Thranduil read, made changes to, and Hallion re-wrote. Apparently, Hallion had seen fit to make Legolas his steward during Thranduil's recovery. Well, that was likely a good idea and good experience for Legolas, assuming Hallion managed it carefully.

He returned to his desk to begin wading through the other papers and as he did, a breeze blew lightly against the bottom of his dress robes. He peered around the tapestry that hung behind his desk. The door to the Queen's garden was open.

Thranduil stepped behind the tapestry to see who was in the garden at this hour. It certainly was not Lindomiel--she was too busy. The sight he saw brought him up short. Legolas and Hallion were lying, flat on their backs, next to each other, in the grass under the beech tree in the center of the garden. Their feet were propped up on the bench under the tree. The lamp from the desk was by their heads, providing light for them to read by. Hallion had a thick stack of papers in his hand and Legolas was handing him one more, the last he held.

"That only leaves Maethorness," Legolas was saying as Hallion took the paper. "And the problem of her root cellar caved in by a fallen tree."

Thranduil cringed reflexively in response to that name. That particular village leader was a thorn in his side and always had been.

Hallion openly groaned at the mention of her name.

Thranduil had to laugh at that. He would remind Hallion of his reaction to her the next time his steward forced that horrible elleth on the schedule.

"I spoke to Dolgailon," Legolas said, "as you asked, and he said I could ask Dollion for up to four of the capital guards. I did and Dollion agreed..."

"She asked for ten warriors to help her build another root cellar," Hallion interrupted.

Legolas nodded. "I know. Believe me. I know that. She saw me coming back from Dollion's office and accosted me about her request and why it had not been answered yet. I went ahead and told her that she could have the four warriors, listened to her complaints that four would not be enough and then told her that was all she would get no matter how she complained. Then I listened to her complain some more. So, at least that is over with, but honestly, I would give all the gold in the treasury to see her speak to adar the way she was speaking to me."

"Do not say that in her presence," Hallion replied hastily. "She will speak to him that way gladly and then demand the gold. Trust me, Legolas, she is not just treating you this way. She treats everyone this way. Me. Thranduil. Everyone."

"That must be frightening," Legolas said.

"Indeed," Hallion agreed. "But there is still the matter of the berry harvest that was buried in the cave in. She said her village cannot survive winter without it and while I doubt that is true..." he let his voice drift off.

Legolas laughed and shook his head. "We will not get rid of her until we satisfy that request too," he finished. "I followed Nana around for an hour last night after she and adar arrived--while she was surveying the state of the household. I told her Maethorness's complaint and Nana essentially laughed at it. She said we would send the same supplies to Maethorness's village that the stronghold always sends for winter and that would not include twenty baskets of berries. I will not bother to repeat her speculations regarding Maethorness's honesty or the likelihood that there ever were twenty baskets of berries to be harvested that far south. The point is, she said Maethorness's village could go without tarts this autumn."

"Would the Queen like to tell Maethorness that?" Hallion asked dryly.

"I would not wish Maethorness on Nana when she was feeling well, much less now," Legolas responded. "So I suggested that we just send Maethorness the apples. There are five barrels of them left. I checked. That would be the equivalent of about ten baskets of berries. And the apples can be made into apple butter or a sauce, just as the berries could be preserved. That is the best we can do. Nana said we could send them if we had no other option, so that is what I wrote there for you to consider," he said, pointing at the paper he had handed Hallion.

"Legolas, your adar trades for the apples for our household--primarily for you and Galithil. Are you sure you want to give them to Maethorness."

Legolas turned his head to look at Hallion. "Do you think she will leave the capital if we give her the apples? Because if you do, she can have them. And if Galithil is disappointed that there are no apples, then he can go to her village and ask her to return them."

Now Hallion laughed. "Very well, we will tell her she can have the apples. Is that all of the morning petitions then?"

"It is," Legolas affirmed. He turned his gaze towards the fading stars for long moment. Then he lifted his legs off the bench, sat up and turned to face Hallion. "Is there anything I can do to help you to prepare..." he began. As he turned, he noticed Thranduil leaning in the doorway. He hopped to his feet. "Fair morning, Adar," he said.

Hallion pushed himself up, crumpling some of the papers in his hand as he did, and turned quickly around. "Fair morning, my lord," he echoed as he also stood. Then he tried to shake some of the leaves off his dress robes unobtrusively.

Thranduil burst into laughter, pressing his hand against the pain that caused his wound, and strode over to stand in front of his steward. He reached to pull the leaves from his hair. "Fair morning to you also, my lord Hallion," he said. "Are you having a lovely morning here in the garden?"

Hallion smiled somewhat sheepishly at him. "Yes, my lord. I am."

"Would it be more convenient, or comfortable for you, if we dragged the desk out here," he joked.

"It does not fit through the door, though I am sure Crithad would make another desk for out here," Legolas said. He dissolved into laughter when Thranduil studied him to try to determine if he was serious. "It makes an unpleasant task more bearable, Adar, working here in the garden under the stars," he added, this time completely in earnest.

Thranduil sobered as well. "You have been busy during my convalescence, I see," he said, leaning over to kiss Legolas on the forehead. "I greatly appreciate that."

"He has been busy, my lord," Hallion confirmed quietly. "He has been invaluable."

Legolas smiled at his father's steward.

"As has Galithil," Hallion added. "And Dolgailon. I think you will find everything in order when we go over all that you have missed in your absence." He paused. "Though I was under the impression that you were to rest this morning. I did not think you were yet returning to work."

"You just want to keep dawdling in the garden, Hallion. Or perhaps you have grown accustomed to Legolas's more gentle personality. Either way, your luck has run out. I am going back to work. Today. And I will not be challenged on it." He smiled. "Even if I did have to sneak into my office like a thief," he concluded, heading back to the office door and leaving both Hallion and Legolas with amused, if confused, expressions in response to that statement.

*~*~*

That afternoon found Thranduil sitting at the council table in the Great Hall, his entire council, minus Lindomiel, but including Legolas and Galithil, around him. He had listened to Dolgailon detail the adaptations he had made in the deployment of the patrols to respond to the changing distribution of the orcs after the fall of Hadhodrond. Golwon had briefed him on the distribution of winter stores to the villages, a task that had gone remarkably well despite Lindomiel's absence. There were a few issues she would have to resolve, but largely all the villages had received the items they normally would. Finally, in addition to complying with the realm's trade agreements with Dale and Esgaroth, Celonhael had apparently been managing the dwarf situation. More dwarves, injured or merely traveling north, had appeared in various locations in the forest, all begging for aid. It had been given. Everyone in Thranduil's household, save the youngest members of it, remembered what it was to be a refugee. Thranduil did not begrudge them what had been given, even if they were dwarves.

Overall, the affairs of the realm were well managed with only a few outstanding matters that needed specifically Thranduil's approval. He was very impressed. This was, by far, the longest he had been away from work since becoming King. He had expected weeks of catch up but, in fact, there was very little for him to do beyond resuming his normal duties. He could not be better pleased.

The door to the Great Hall burst open.

Thranduil automatically glanced at the tables to the side of the Hall where the scribes and his advisors' assistants worked to see if Dannenion and Dolwon were there. Normally only they burst into the Hall in such an unceremonious fashion, but they were both in their normal places, working quietly. Thranduil looked back at the door. His eyebrows rose dramatically.

It was Lindomiel rushing into the room, Galuauth on her heels. Indeed, she was just short of running into the room, face flushed, hair streaming behind her.

Thranduil sensed motion behind him. Conuion, his injured right arm bound in a sling against his side to protect the still damaged bones and muscles, had stepped closer to the table in response to the Queen's hurried approach.

By the time Thranduil turned back around, Lindomiel was already standing at the far end of the table. Belatedly, he made to stand. The other members of the council seemed to be awakened by the movement. They did the same.

"Sit," Lindomiel whispered, leaning over the table and dismissing the courtesy with a wave of her hand. She did not spare a glance at anyone but Cunuion. "Do not react to what I am about to say. We do not want to do anything to alert anyone," she continued without a pause, still whispering.

Thranduil tensed, but gave no outward sign that his wife's words had alarmed him. A glance around the table showed everyone else behaving similarly. Even Legolas and Galithil were merely looking at the table.

"I was going to the beehive behind the training field. Arthiel told me that she fears it is declining and I wanted to see for myself because, if it is, that means we will have to go a much longer distance for honey." She paused. "While I was there, I saw Demil in the forest talking to someone. I could not see who."

Despite Lindomiel's warning to not react, Thranduil's eyes flew open wide. Demil! Fuilin's brother! Here? "Are you certain?" he asked in a low voice. Conuion echoed him.

Lindomiel nodded. "Quite certain. I knew Fuilin and his brothers fairly well when the capital was in the south. They tried plying me for information long before they targeted Amoneth."

"There is more," Galuauth interjected. "I met Demil in Lord Dolgailon's village when I went there with Legolas and Galithil. He was introduced to us as Bronil. By Dannenion."

That earned Galuauth a sharp glance from Legolas, Galithil and Dolgailon. Thranduil studied them.

Behind him, Conuion was signaling for Tulus, Colloth, and Galudiron who were idling at the back of the Hall since their charges were attending the council meeting. They strode quickly over to the table, obviously curious as to what was being discussed. "Demil is here," Conuion said, with no preamble. He pointed at Tulus and Colloth. "Go with Galuauth and bring him here." They left with just a nod in acknowledgement. Then Conuion turned to Legolas and Galithil. "You spoke to Demil?" he asked, obviously expecting more explanation.

Legolas nodded. "Dannenion did introduce him to us, as Galuauth said. They were sitting together with Seregon, Galasserch and Moralfien listening to a song about Nimrodel." He paused and looked apologetically at Lindomiel. "It caught our attention because we heard Moralfien comment that Nimrodel did not approve of Sindar presence in Lothlorien. She said she thought Dannenion and Dolwon would be interested in the song because of that. Bronil laughed along with Dannenion and Dolwon at that comment."

Thranduil's hands clenched into fists. "Well, I did not have long to wait for Dannenion and Dolwon to betray the trust I gave them," he growled, turning to order Conuion to arrest them as well.

"My lord, hear this first, before you act," Galithil said, leaning forward.

Thranduil turned to him impatiently.

"If Bronil or Demil...whatever his name may be, is truly Fuinil's brother, this is likely more serious than simply finding Dannenion and Dolwon consorting with wanted criminals. The night before we left the village, you gave me messages for the Southern Patrol and the village guards, asking for ten members of the Patrol to meet us at the border to escort Amglaur and Limmiel to Lothlorien." He paused.

"I remember," Thranduil said.

"Bronil was the courier to the patrol that evening. I gave him your messages." He turned to Dolgailon. "It seems Tulus was correct," he said.

Thranduil's brow furrowed. Why would Galithil think that was important? And what was Tulus correct about? Then he tensed as realization dawned. No warriors had met them, that was certain. Galithil--and Tulus, apparently--thought Demil had diverted the warriors? So the King's family would come to harm? But why would he do that? He could not know that orcs would be in that particular place. It had to be a coincidence.

Dolgailon obviously thought differently. His face held a fury that Thranduil had never seen mar it. "When Galithil told me your orders for more warriors at the border and guards along the path had not been met by either the patrol or the village," he explained, seeing Thranduil's obvious confusion, "I spoke to Seregon. He is the head of the village guard. He told me that patrolling the path to the border had been in his regular rotation that day, but Bronil asked to switch duties with him. And when I spoke to the Patrol, they told me they never received your request for more warriors at the border. On the contrary, they told me Bronil had sent them north of the village looking for a spider nest. Seregon and I looked for Bronil to question him, but we could not find him." Dolgailon made a bitter face. "I never liked Bronil, but Seregon told me he was generally considered an unreliable guard, and that he often disappeared from the village with no explanation, so he was not surprised by this lapse. I accepted that explanation for his actions and his absence and I did not ask the patrols to search for him."

"If you knew this," Thranduil asked, his voice sharp, "and apparently Tulus, Galithil and Legolas knew this, why am I only hearing it now?"

Dolgailon straightened reflexively in his chair. "You were not conscious for a week after that battle. And then you remained in the village while I returned here. Tulus and I discussed what we suspected with Hallion and with Conuion when he was able to respond to it. They were here in the stronghold, you were not. None of us thought it would be a good idea to send our suspicions to the village in a letter to you."

Thranduil scowled. "Well, I will grant you that. Conuion, how did you decide to respond to this?"

"Tulus was going to go to Lord Dolgailon's village when we thought enough time had passed that Manadhien might have returned to it. Tulus thought he might have seen her there and he thinks the best chance of catching her is to allow her time to grow complacent again. We will have to discuss how capturing Demil might affect those plans, assuming that we do."

"I want Tulus to go looking for her now. I want her caught if she is involved in this attack," Thranduil ordered. "And I want them," he jerked his chin in Dannenion and Dolwon's direction. "Now."

"Yes, my lord," Conuion said, already signaling to Galudiron. "Go tell Belloth to bring Dannenion and Dolwon to the King, but tell him to wait until you return to the table. And warn him that Dannenion and Dolwon might resist, with violence, so be prepared. Be prepared yourself," he concluded with a glance at Legolas and Galithil.

Galudiron nodded once and jogged over to where Belloth stood in his place next to the dais.

Thranduil's attention had turned to his family. "Legolas, Galithil, Lindomiel. Leave. Through the door behind the throne. Immediately."

Legolas and Galithil stood to do as they were told. Lindomiel only folded her arms across her chest and turned to Dolgailon. "I do not understand how you can think that Demil was involved in the attack that killed my parents. Even if he did send the patrol somewhere else, what could he hope to accomplish by doing that? How could he have known orcs would be in that particular place along the border to harm us?" she whispered. She did not move.

"The arrows that killed your adar and that hit your naneth were shot from a long bow, my lady," Dolgailon answered.

Thranduil's head snapped to him at that added detail and its implication. Dolgailon not only thought Demil had seen orcs along the route he and his family would take and left them to fall victim to them, he thought Demil participated in the attack somehow!

"Tulus found that suspicious," Dolgailon continued. "He also thought the battle in general was unusually skillfully strategized for orcs, that the number of orcs was abnormally high and that it was highly coincidental that they had poisoned their weapons. I admit, he did convince me that the attack might have been planned. By Elves. By Manadhien."

Lindomiel's eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands.

"When I learned that Bronil did not deliver the King's orders to the patrol and that it was he that was supposed to be guarding the path to the border, I suspected he might have something to do with it, but I had no idea who he was. That he had any connection to Manadhien. Now that I know Bronil is Fuilin's brother, I obviously see my mistake."

By the time Dolgailon had finished that explanation, Belloth was standing over Dannenion and Dolwon, asking them to come speak to the King.

"Leave. Now," Thranduil repeated. If Demil was now in the business of personally killing members of his family, Thranduil wanted his wife out of the Hall.

Lindomiel scowled at him and pulled out a chair at the table. "There is no possibility I am leaving, Thranduil. I intend to find out why, exactly, my adar and naneth died." She sat.

Thranduil glared at her. It was extremely rare for her to publicly defy him and doing so meant she would not be moved. He drew a breath to argue with her just the same, but he was cut off by Legolas.

"Please, my lord, may we stay also?" he asked quietly, gesturing to Galithil. "Like Naneth, we have a right to find out exactly what caused daeradar and daernaneth's death. Moreover, I saw the long bow that shot the arrows Dolgailon mentioned. If Bronil has his bow with him, I can say if it was his that I saw."

Thranduil's jaw clenched. He wanted his children out of the Hall also.

"We are capable of defending ourselves if this should come to violence, my lord," Galithil said softly into the silence.

"Against orcs you have proven yourselves. I will grant you that," Thranduil responded. "How easily will you draw your blades against another elf?"

Thranduil watched a slightly ill expression claim both Legolas and Galithil, but it was too late. Dannenion and Dolwon were only steps away from the table.

"Sit down," he ordered quietly as Belloth stopped Dannenion and Dolwon a safe distance away from the table and the King. Despite his lingering injury, Conuion positioned himself between them and the King.

Dannenion glanced at him irritably. "My lord?" he asked, obviously waiting to be told why he had been summoned.

Thranduil turned to face him fully. "I have some questions for you both," he said, voice low and barely controlled. "I advise you to consider your answers very carefully before you speak. Were you in Dolgailon's village visiting with Fuilin, Demil and Mauril?"

Dannenion's gaze never flickered from Thranduil's face. "Yes, my lord," he answered calmly. Dolwon shot him a glance and answered the same. "That is to say, we spoke to Demil there," Dannenion continued. "We were visiting my wife's cousin on our way to visit my cousin in Selwon's village. But we did see Demil, at least, in the village and we did speak to him. Legolas and Galithil joined that conversation," he concluded, nodding to the children.

Thranduil regarded Dannenion closely. He had expected both Dannenion and Dolwon to deny they had spoken to Demil, deny they had realized it was him, deny that it was him and claim it was someone else...anything to avoid the truth, as they had done during their original trial. The fact that they had answered without protest...it gave him pause.

"Demil was not how you introduced him," Legolas commented, interrupting Thranduil's thoughts.

Dannenion shook his head. "He uses the name Bronil now, he told us, so I introduced him using that name."

"I give you your freedom and the first thing you do is visit your fellow conspirators--elves who are wanted criminals? How do you think I am going to respond to that?" Thranduil asked. Dannenion had to have some insane excuse for the trap he was caught in. Thranduil wanted to know what it was in order to determine if it was important.

Dannenion adopted a surprised expression. Dolwon rather ruined it by nearly choking on the breath he drew.

"They are still wanted, my lord?" Dannenion asked. "I always assumed that you had exiled Demil and his brothers for some period of time since I never saw them under arrest here, as Dolwon, Tulus and I were, and since I never heard of them in the forest again. We even asked Demil when we saw him how he had managed such a short exile when we ourselves had to argue for release from arrest. I suppose, now that I think about it, he never really answered that question, did he Dolwon?"

Dolwon was looking at Dannenion with wide eyes. He shook his head quickly.

Thranduil loosed a scoffing laugh. "Do you think me a fool, Dannenion? You cannot hope that I will believe you did not know Fuilin, Demil and Mauril were wanted."

Dannenion drew himself up, ready to protest, but Thranduil did not pause to let him speak.

"I have another, more important question I want you to answer and again, I advise you to consider your answer very carefully. Honesty might move me to a mercy that I am currently not feeling. My question is: what part did you play in this latest conspiracy to kill me and my family?"

Dannenion drew a breath as if to answer. Then his brows drew together and his gaze focused on the King for a long moment. When he turned it to the floor, his eyes had widened slightly and for the first time in this conversation he appeared surprised. "Are you saying that the orc attack on your family was planned, my lord?" he asked. His voice held none of its normal over-confidence.

Thranduil looked at Dolwon. He was staring at the King, though he normally hardly managed to even meet his gaze. He appeared simultaneously astonished and disgusted.

"I think you know perfectly well that it was planned, Dannenion, having taken part in the planning yourself. I am asking you what your role was," Thranduil responded.

Dannenion dropped to his knees, causing Thranduil's eyes to widen dramatically. "I swear to you, my lord, on my life, on my wife's life and on my son and daughter's lives, I had nothing to do with any plot to kill you. I might not always agree with you...I will even admit that I still, occasionally, harbor a desire to see you driven from your throne--though I have not done anything to act on that desire. But plotting to kill you? No, I will have no part in that. None at all."

"Nor was I involved, my lord," Dolwon added, mimicking Dannenion and dropping to his knees. "We went south, free to visit our kin for the first time in forty years, and that is all we did. We visited family and friends. Selwon can tell you that on the days before that attack and on the day of it, we were in his village, visiting our cousins there. He will confirm both Dannenion and I were there, my lord. I swear it."

Thranduil left them in place, studying them carefully. He almost believed them.

The door to the Hall flew open again. This time Tulus and Galuauth entered. Between them they held an elf, each grasping one of his arms. Colloth walked behind them carrying a bow, quiver and sword. The elf, who was still struggling even as the doors to the Hall closed behind him, had torn clothes. He had obviously put up a fight.

Thranduil looked back at Dannenion and Dolwon. "You may stand, but do not move otherwise," he said to them briefly.

Tulus and Galuauth reached the table where Thranduil sat and there they hesitated. To pass one side of the table with their prisoner led them straight by Legolas and Galithil. The other side is where Lindomiel sat. Tulus apparently was unwilling to walk Demil--Thranduil could glimpse his face now, despite the fact that his struggles had caused his hair to fall across it--so close to either Thranduil's children or wife. Wise judgement, Thranduil agreed and signaled for them to stay where they were.

Tulus released his hold on Demil with one hand and reached into the quiver that Colloth was carrying, withdrawing one arrow from it and handing it to Dolgailon. Dolgailon took it and sat back in his chair staring at Demil. He looked as if he might be ill. Thranduil watched that exchange silently and with no outward reaction--the arrows that Dolgailon had mentioned obviously matched. He turned to his prisoner.

"What is your name?" he asked, curious to see what name Demil would give.

He looked up, jerking his head to try to fling his hair from his face. His eyes narrowed upon seeing Legolas, Galithil and Dolgailon. Then he glared contemptuously at Dannenion and Dolwon. "Bronil," he answered with a sneer.

"Your right name," Thranduil specified. "The one your father gave you."

Demil laughed now.  "Morisinde Ulcamartendur," he replied, his chin jutting out.

Thranduil glanced quickly at Hallion. His steward leaned towards him. "Morisinde is Demil in Quenya," he whispered. "Ulcamarte would be Manadh in Sindarin. The suffix means 'servant of.'"

Thranduil's heart raced uncomfortably. It had been a very long time since he was certain that he was in the presence of one of the elves he had fought in Menegroth and Sirion, but he was fairly certain this elf was one of them. He did not recognize him, to be sure. He simply had the same arrogance those elves had. And his eyes held a deep, long born darkness. Thranduil moved his hand away from the knife at his belt lest his innate instinct to draw it against such a presence overpower his conscious will.

"You are known to me as Demil. Your brothers are Fuilin and Mauril. I ordered you and your brothers to leave the capital when it was still south of the mountains. Correct?" Thranduil asked.

"Correct," the elf replied, still looking down his nose at Thranduil, despite the position he was in.

"What are you doing in the capital now?"

"I was not aware that I am not allowed in this capital," Demil said. "I was visiting cousins here."

Thranduil laughed. "So many cousins to visit," he commented, throwing a glance at Dannenion and Dolwon. "What is your cousin's name? Who are you visiting here?"

Demil did not reply to that. He simply glanced at Tulus and then turned his gaze to study the tapestry behind the throne.

Thranduil considered him a long moment. He had not truly expected an answer to that question, though he wanted one. All of the people he would have expected Demil to be meeting with had been in this room for hours. He would be saddened to find out Dannenion or Dolwon's wives, or worse still, young sons were involved in this conspiracy now.

Thranduil turned away from questions that he knew would not be answered to ones he thought he could find answers to. He was certain from what Dolgailon had already told him that Demil had some role in this latest conspiracy. He still had doubts about Dannenion and Dolwon. He turned to them. "I am going to ask you another question," he said. "One last time, I advise you to answer wisely. Forty years ago, you were convicted of conspiring to have the Queen and Lady Amoneth abducted by Men in order to force me from my throne. Is Demil one of the elves you conspired with?"

Unlike Tulus, Dannenion and Dolwon had never cooperated in any way with the investigation of that crime. Their willingness or lack thereof to cooperate now would go a long way in determining if Thranduil trusted any of the answers they had already given him.

Dannenion looked with open fear between Demil, Tulus and finally Thranduil. Dolwon could not even manage that. His eyes were tightly shut and his head was bowed.

"He was, my lord," Dannenion finally whispered.

"Traitors are made to pay," Demil spat at him.

"Silence," Thranduil intervened. "You are a fool if you think that Dannenion just told me anything I did not already know. I know you plotted with Men to abduct my wife."

Demil's gaze flicked to Tulus and the sneer returned to his face, but he said nothing.

"What I do not know for certain," Thranduil continued, "is how, precisely, you were involved in the latest conspiracy, this time to murder my family. Tell me Demil, have you been serving as a guard in Lord Dolgailon's village?"

"Lord Dolgailon can tell you that I was," Demil answered.

Thranduil nodded. "He also tells me that you were charged to carry requests that I made to have more guards and more warriors along the path and at the border when I was traveling with my family. Is he correct in that statement as well?"

Thranduil had taken care not to mention Galithil's name in that question, but Demil turned his glare on him just the same. Galithil returned his gaze with no change in his own.

"Yes," Demil said, still facing Galithil.

"And when Dolgailon asked why those requests were not met, he was told that you switched duties to guard the path yourself that day and that you sent the Southern Patrol looking for spiders rather than to the border as I ordered. If I can assume that is also true, perhaps you can explain to me why you were not on your patrol when my family and I were attacked. Perhaps you can explain why you did not give the patrol my request for more warriors."

Demil said nothing. He appeared to be weighing what he might say and he was studying Dolgailon while he did so.

"One question at a time, then," Thranduil said allowing his tone to grow harsh in order to interrupt Demil's thoughts. "Did you patrol the path to  the border the day my family and I traveled there?"

"I forgot that I had asked Seregon to switch with me," Demil finally said. "Seregon already questioned me about this when I passed through the village on my way here. I admitted that I did my regular patrol, late, so no one patrolled the path to the border that day. I have already been dismissed from the village guard for my carelessness. But that was all it was. Carelessness. Not conspiracy."

"And the Southern Patrol?" Thranduil continued. "You did not feel it was necessary to give them my request for warriors to meet me at the border?"

"I was never given such a message," Demil replied.

"Not true," Galithil and Legolas replied in unison.

"I was with Galithil when he gave the message to Demil," Legolas said.

"And I gave him both your written message and I told him what it contained, to emphasize the importance of getting it to the patrol quickly," Galithil added.

"They are lying," Demil said calmly. "They are children and were probably caught up in the merrymaking. They forgot to deliver your message."

"Another lie," Galuauth said quietly. "I waited at the foot of the steps to the guards' talan, but I escorted Lords Galithil and Legolas to deliver that message. I heard Lord Galithil speaking to you about it. I specifically remember hearing your voice assure him that the King's message would be delivered."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and looked at Demil to see how he would try to explain that. Demil pressed his lips together angrily and remained silent. Better, Thranduil thought. He far preferred silence over lies. He turned to Colloth. "Is that his bow?"

Colloth nodded. "Yes, my lord. We took it and this sword from him."

"My lord," Dolgailon interrupted. "These arrows, minus the black X on the fletchings, match exactly the arrow that killed Amglaur and Limmiel," he said, passing Thranduil the arrow. Its shaft was painted silver and its fletchings were bright blue. "I still have one of those arrows."

Dolwon gasped.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel," Dannenion whispered, looking between the arrow and Demil, a horrified expression on his face.

Thranduil shot a glance at Lindomiel. She was pale, but her expression was calm. Thranduil doubted his own was so composed.

"Orcs must have found some arrows that I lost while hunting," Demil was trying to protest.

"Is that the bow you saw, Legolas?" Thranduil asked, speaking over him.

That question caused Demil to freeze. He watched Legolas like a spider watches prey near its web. Thranduil regretted bringing his son under Demil's direct scrutiny, but this was a critical point. He had to know if Demil had shot the arrow that killed Amglaur and Limmiel

"It is not the bow," Legolas concluded after studying it for a long moment. He took the bow from Colloth. "This is the design I saw," he indicated a pair of trees carved into the broadest part of the arm of the bow. "But this," he traced his finger along an arrow or possibly spear across the trees, "was not on the bow I saw. I am certain of it."

Thranduil held out his hand for the bow and Legolas passed it to him. Thranduil studied it. "Whose heraldry do these trees signify?" he asked, facing the decoration towards Demil. "This is the device of the House you serve and the arrow represents that you are a guard of that House, correct? Whose House is it?"

Demil raised his chin and said nothing.

Thranduil stood and leaned over the table. "I know you serve Manadhien or Marti or whatever other names she goes by. I know the bow that Legolas saw was hers. I want to know her proper name. The name she gave Thingol in his court." That earned him a startled look from Demil. "Oh yes, I have heard that Manadhien was in Menegroth and had no love for my father. Now tell me a name I would recognize from that time. And tell me her father's name. The name of her House. I want to know why she has held a grudge against my family for three Ages of this world."

Demil smiled in response to that and remained silent.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed and in one motion he snapped the arm of the bow in half over his knee and handed the fragment with the tree on it to Hallion. "You find out whose device that is," he ordered and he heard his steward's quiet, 'Yes, my lord,' in response as he cast the remains of the bow on the floor behind him. He remained focused on Demil. "You plotted with Men to abduct my wife. You plotted with Orcs to kill my wife. With Orcs!" he growled, fury rising. "Your mistress killed my wife's mother and father. With her own hands," he fairly shouted.

"Such outrage," Demil mocked. "Such a hypocrit. You have killed plenty of elves yourself. I saw it with my own eyes."

Thranduil was thrown back a step by that accusation. And by the confirmation that Demil was, in fact, one of the elves that fought along side the sons of Feanor. "You accuse me of kinslaying?" he finally said, voice shaking with rage. "Yes. I have slain elves. Elves that attacked me in my home in Menegroth. I was forced to fight them to protect my own life and the lives of my mother and aunts. I was forced again to defend myself and my Queen against elves that attacked me in my home in Sirion, where my family refuged after being driven out of Menegroth. You will stand before me and confess that you are one of the Noldor that attacked Menegroth and Sirion? Is that what you are foolish enough to be saying to me, Dior's cousin?"

Demil only returned his gaze unflinchingly.

"Obviously you believe my family offended the one you serve somehow. If all that you hold against me is killing one of your own in Menegroth or Sirion, you have yourself to blame for that. You attacked me, not the other way around. But what does Lindomiel have to do with this? She was born two Ages after the events you are accusing me of taking part in. What was her crime in your mind? How does she deserve the death you intended for her."

"Lindomiel makes you happy," Demil replied, offhandedly, "and we intend to take your happiness from you, person by person, until you are left utterly alone just as you have left the last remaining of our House alone. She," he jerked his chin towards Lindomiel, "is the logical person to start with in that endeavor because it is she that enables you to perpetuate Oropher's line. But never fear, we will deprive you of everyone at this table eventually."

Thranduil stopped breathing. In the recesses of his mind, he heard Lindomiel's gasp and his council erupt into shouts, but that did not surface into his conscious thoughts over the swirling rage that drove him to draw the knife at his belt. He stepped around the end of the table and advanced on Demil. Hallion and Conuion backed hurriedly out of his way. Thranduil was vaguely aware of Tulus turning his head and closing his eyes...of Galuauth's jaw falling open and his gaze fixed on the knife in the King's hand, but Thranduil only fully registered the distance between he and Demil closing swiftly.

Thranduil's shoulder struck something standing in his way, blocking his path to Demil.

"What are you doing?" a voice whispered in his ear.

Thranduil tore his gaze from Demil long enough to see who had dared offer this defiance. His eyes flew open when he saw Legolas. His son stood in front of him, practically chest to chest with him, his slight form remarkably unmoving, his gaze unflinching. "Adar, what are you doing?" he repeated so softly no one else could have heard him over the voices of his council.

Thranduil drew a breath to order Legolas aside.

"The wise are never eager to deal out death in judgment," someone called from the back of the Hall.

Mithrandir! He was walking slowly up the center aisle of the Hall.

Thranduil looked from him to Legolas and then glanced at his courtiers at the tables lining the sides of the Hall. The room was silent, he realized, save for the very soft shuffle of Mithrandir's boots on the stone floor.

He drew a deep breath and took a small step back from his son

"You are allied with orcs, Demil," he said, his voice much more even than his temper at the moment. "I confess myself very tempted to treat you the same way I treat them. But Legolas and Mithrandir are right. I will not do that."

The question was, what would he do with him? Eryn Galen was a very large forest. If Thranduil exiled Demil, he would simply hide in the forest as he had done for the last Age and continue plotting against the throne. But how could Thranduil imprison him? It would be impossible to hold him in the capital as he had held Dannenion and Dolwon. This conversation had been held in open court. Everyone in the capital would be aware of Demil's crime by supper time and it was very unlikely they would tolerate his presence or understand why Thranduil allowed it. And even if Thranduil swore everyone in the room to silence, he still could not imagine allowing Demil to remain here. He was willing to kill with his own hands. Thranduil would have to live in fear that every time he or any member of his family set foot onto the Green, Demil might plant an arrow in their back. The only alternative was to hold him in a cell. Thranduil loosed a derisive snort. His sword would offer Demil a more merciful death than being left to languish in that manner. What could he possibly possibly do with him?

"Have the guards escort him to the Havens and put him on a ship," Hallion whispered into his ear after coming to stand behind Thranduil. "Send him to Manwe, rather than Mandos, and let the Valar sort him out."

Thranduil half turned and smirked at his steward. That suggestion had some merit.

Demil laughed. "My lord's House was banned from the ships after the War of Wrath. The Valar have already dealt with me to the extent that they will."

Thranduil blinked at that. "If even the Valar do not want him, what am I to do with him?" he said out loud.

"Men brand their outlaws with their crime on their forehead," Engwe commented dryly. "Pity that scars heal so well on Elves."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow, now turning to look at his uncle. Somehow he had never heard of that punishment. He appreciated its value, but as Engwe had already commented, it was not a method that would solve his problem, even it was one he was willing to employ. But assuring that everyone knew of Demil's crime was precisely what he needed to do. That and remove him from the forest.

Thranduil raised a hand, signaling for Conuion. The guard was instantly at his side. "You arrange for as many guards as you see fit to take Demil to the camps of each of the patrols. Show his face to every warrior in this realm and tell them that it is not to be seen in this forest again. Then you take him to every village in this forest and do the same with the village leaders. Once that is done, take him to the other side of the Northmen's territory and into Rhun. There give him a knife and bow and release him in the land of his allies." He turned back to Demil. "Hear my words and hear them well, Demil: I have been persuaded to show you mercy, but if you threaten any of my family, ever again...if I see you in this forest again...I will kill you on sight. Do you understand me?"

"We understand each other," Demil replied.

Thranduil glared at him, anger flaring again at that veiled threat. "Get him out of my sight," he ordered.

Galuauth pulled Demil from the room. As he did, a low buzz arose from the tables at the sides of the Hall, the scribes and other courtiers already whispering about all they had just witnessed, so shocked by it that they made no pretense otherwise. Normally that would elicit a reprimand from Thranduil, but in this instance, he could not deny they had a right to be scandalized. He was too, to be honest. Elves plotting with Orcs!

Elves plotting. He glanced at Dannenion and Dolwon. The horrified expressions that had claimed them when Dolgailon made his announcement about the arrows had not faded. And they appeared to be sincere. "I can hardly give credence to what I am about to say," Thranduil said to them, "but I believe that you were not involved in this plot. I do not, however, believe that you thought consorting Demil was acceptable..."

"I swear we did not intend to, my lord," Dannenion interrupted. "But when he saw us, we were afraid to shun him. You saw how he threatened us just now. And we left the village as soon as possible. The very next day."

Dolwon was nodding and watching Galuauth lead Demil away, still looking frightened.

"Is that true?" Thranduil asked Galithil.

"It is true that they left the day after we arrived, my lord," Galithil answered.

"Please, my lord," Dolwon whispered. "If you send us with him, as soon as your guards leave us, Demil will kill us for betraying him."

"And if you are allied with him, that is nothing less than what you have earned," Thranduil retorted. Then he studied them silently. He still did not believe that they had unintentionally encountered Manadhien's servants, but he did believe that Dannenion and Dolwon were sincerely shocked that Manadhien had directly tried to kill his family. Perhaps that was progress that should be allowed to blossom.

"Get out of my sight before I change my mind and send you with Demil," he finally said.

Dannenion and Dolwon both bowed and fled back to the scribes' tables.

Thranduil snorted. That was the first time either Dannenion or Dolwon had bowed to him without first being ordered to do so. He turned his back to them, intending to return to his chair. As he turned, his shoulder brushed against Legolas, still standing next to him. There were very few people on the face of Arda that had the courage to do what Legolas had just done. And fewer still that he would tolerate it from. Thranduil wondered if his son even realized that. He leveled a cool glare on him, intending to ask. Legolas returned it briefly before he looked down. As he did, Thranduil thought he saw a flicker of the same sort of fear in Legolas's eyes that he occasionally saw in the faces of his courtiers and even councilors. Thranduil frowned, instantly deciding he did not like that look on his son. Before he could speak or even make an effort to soften his expression, Legolas took a step back from him and knelt on one knee. He understood, it seemed.

"Stand," Thranduil said. Legolas did and now met his father's gaze with an impassive one of his own, though he could not hide his apprehension. Indeed, the entire council was watching this encounter tensely. Lindomiel appeared ready to rise from her chair to intervene. Thranduil took a step closer to Legolas to speak into his ear. "Be certain, ion nin, that you--you and your naneth alone--are the only two people in this realm that could publicly behave as you just did and expect to not to regret it dearly. I advise you to use that privilege very wisely."

"Yes, my lord," Legolas replied quietly.

Thranduil took a deep breath and put an arm around Legolas's shoulder, steering him back to his chair at the table. His councilors quickly turned back around in their chairs and focused their gazes anywhere but on Thranduil. "Mithrandir, you are certainly a surprise," Thranduil said in as light a tone as he could muster in an attempt to return to some modicum of normality. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" he asked while continuing to his own chair at the head of the table. He indicated a place for Mithrandir to sit and sat himself. He felt completely exhausted.

"I bring news from Lothlorien, my lord," Mithrandir said.

Everyone in the family stopped their whispered conversations and paid attention to that.

"What news?" Lindomiel asked, leaning forward, her brow puckered with worry.

Mithrandir looked at her, his expression full of pity. It only made Thranduil more tense. "Perhaps I should deliver the worst news first and get that over with," he said softly. "You know that Amroth went with Nimrodel to the Havens?"

Lindomiel nodded.

"We had news in Lothlorien from the Havens that Amroth and Nimrodel and her ladies were separated on the journey. Amroth arrived at the Havens, but Nimrodel never did."

Lindomiel closed her eyes.

"I am afraid this only gets worse," Mithrandir continued in a quiet voice. "Apparently, Amroth and the others who intended to sail with him waited on the boat for a good while, hoping she would come because Amroth was unwilling to leave without her and the others were unwilling to leave without their king. One night, a storm blew the ship from its moorings and out to sea. When Amroth realized what had happened...well, one of the ship builders working on the docks reported that he heard Amroth calling for Nimrodel and then he saw him jump overboard. He never reached the shore."

Lindomiel said nothing. She remained silent, with her eyes closed.

Mithrandir reached for her hand and held it between both his own. "I am sorry to have to deliver such news to you so soon after you lost your parents, but Amroth's council insisted you would want to be told and I agreed, of course, that you had the right to know. I promised them I would tell you."

Lindomiel opened her eyes and looked down at the table for a long moment--long enough that Thranduil was about to stand to escort her from the Hall. Before he could, she looked back at Mithrandir, her expression perfectly composed. "They were very right that I want to know my cousin's fate. He and I were very close when I was a child, though he was much older than I."

Mithrandir nodded, patting her hand.

Thranduil was about to suggest they retire to the family quarters to take time to mourn Amroth, but again he was forestalled, this time by Mithrandir. "With Amroth's loss, there is the matter of Lothlorien being left without a King," he said, this time directing himself to Thranduil.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. He had been deeply concerned about Lothlorien's fate during his lengthy convalescence. Unfortunately, there was little he could do about it. He could not imagine what Mithrandir intended to say on that topic.

"Celeborn, Elrohir, Elladan and I were in Lothlorien when Haldir returned there from this realm with news of Amglaur's fate." Thranduil watched Mithradnir squeeze Lindomiel's hand at the mention of her father. "Perhaps Lord Dolgailon mentioned to you that we were there?"

Thranduil vaguely remembered Dolgailon speaking to him about seeing Mithrandir, Celeborn and Elrond's sons but he had been fairly heavily drugged for his injury and did not remember the details. He only nodded, anxious to see where Mithrandir was slowly leading him.

"With the combined news of Amroth and Amglaur's demise," Mithrandir continued, "the people determined to remain in Lothlorien were trying to organize the leadership necessary to defend and manage the forest. Some of Amroth's council appeared to know Celeborn, either from Menegroth or from his previous visits to Lothlorien. They invited him to remain in Lothlorien and he accepted that invitation."

"They have named Celeborn their King?" Thranduil exclaimed and immediately began to analyze what that would mean. Celeborn was an experienced leader--a noble elf from Thingol's court. He would make Lothlorien a much stronger realm than Amroth had managed to make it, and given the increasing threats from Dol Guldur, that was definitely a good thing. Moreover, he was Thranduil's distant cousin and one of his father's closest friends. Thus, relations with Lothlorien would remain strong, to the extent that they could given the difficulties of communication and travel between the two realms.

"Celeborn did not agree to take such a title," Mithrandir was answering. "He and Galadriel will remain in Lothlorien as its caretakers only, they said."

Galadriel! Thranduil's gaze snapped back to Mithrandir. How had he forgotten her? "I confess that I am not comfortable with Galadriel in Lothlorien," he interrupted, thinking out loud.

"Why not?" Engwe asked. "While you have been in Dolgailon's village recovering, we have been trying to imagine what we could do to help secure Lothlorien, but we found no logistically acceptable solution. Celeborn has just provided the perfect one. Granted, the Noldo is an unwanted appendage to it,"

That comment elicited several snorts, especially from Hallion and Celonhael.

"But Celeborn has successfully controlled her for the last Age," Engwe continued without pause. "I think we should be grateful to him for his willingness to manage Lothlorien."

Mithrandir was looking at Thranduil, his thick eyebrows raised.

Thranduil merely shook his head. "My reasons are not to be discussed in open council," he said, glancing at the scribes and his councilors' assistants. They were gathering their materials and preparing to leave for the day. Or, truthfully, in council at all, he added silently. Saying that out loud would only inspire curiosity that he could not indulge. Thranduil stood raising everyone else to their feet as well. "It has been a trying day and Mithrandir has delivered difficult news. Shall we go back to the family quarters for some rest before dinner?"

Lindomiel nodded, pressing Mithrandir's hand for a moment before withdrawing her own. "I will tell the cook that we have a guest for dinner. If you will excuse me," she concluded, directing herself to Thranduil.

He bowed to her in response, the movement making his wound scream. He quickly pressed his hand against his belt and ignored Lindomiel's departing look. She would have words with him later about working this long, even if she acknowledged that Demil and Lothlorien were both subjects that required his attention.

*~*~*

"Come on, Legolas!" Galithil called, leaving the door to the corridor open after poking his head into his cousin's room.

"Go with Maidhien and Nana," Legolas shouted back at him. "I will be right there."

Legolas was just as anxious as his cousin to go to the Green. It had been weeks since he had been free to join his friends there, as busy as he had been helping Hallion. And tonight especially--most of the populace knew by now that Mithrandir had arrived. Their distrust of foreigners did not include the Wizards. In fact, most people loved Radagast and Mithrandir. The Green would be exploding with merrymaking tonight.

Legolas's hand hovered over his bow. He wanted to join the contests this evening, but he did not care to do anything else to invoke his father's wrath. When he stood in the Hall and blocked Thranduil's path to Demil, he had done so without thinking...automatically, because he truly could not imagine what his father intended to do and could not believe it might be what it appeared to be. The full implications of what he had done did not even occur to him until he saw Hallion's expression. His father's only public response was shockingly restrained and Legolas could not help but worry that another, private response might be looming.

Despite that, he reached for the bow. Nana enjoyed watching him compete. After hearing Amroth's fate, she would likely need some cheer. Legolas drew a deep breath. He had never met Amroth, but his mother spoke of him warmly--she told wonderful stories about him. Hearing of his drowning so soon after her own parents' deaths! Sometimes Legolas did not know where his mother's strength came from, but he admired it.

He picked up his quiver and exited his room while still fastening its straps. Everyone was just disappearing through the doors at the end of the corridor. He hurried his pace to catch up with them.

"You did not seem terribly pleased to hear that Celeborn and Galadriel will rule Lothlorien," Mithrandir's deep voice drifted from the sitting room.

Legolas frowned and stopped before he passed that door. Apparently his father was entertaining the Wizard in the sitting room rather than joining the family on the lawn. Legolas had thought his father's reaction to that particular part of Mithrandir's news was odd. He wondered if his father intended to discuss it more now. No further sound came from the room.

"You do not approve of your cousin ruling Lothlorien?" Mithrandir pressed. "Surely the presence there of a strong ally will fortify Rhovanion. I would think you would be pleased."

"As I said in the Hall, it is not Celeborn's presence that concerns me, Mithrandir," his father answered softly. "I am pleased to have my cousin in Lothlorien."

"You do not like Galadriel?" Mithrandir said, voice rising a bit in surprise. "She is so much like you."

Thranduil openly snorted in response to that. "The reason why I do not feel comfortable with her in Lothlorien, so close to Dol Guldur, is one that must not be discussed," he responded.

"I see," Mithrandir replied.

And from his tone of voice, he did see. Legolas could not imagine how the Wizard had gleaned any idea of why his father disapproved of Galadriel's presence from the answer he had been given. Mysterious. And mysteries burned away at Legolas's curiosity. He took a silent step closer to the wall, waiting to see if they would say anything more. As he did, Galuauth's comment about childish impulsiveness versus adult disobedience floated into his mind. If his father were going to discuss something that 'must not be discussed' with the Wizard, eavesdropping outside this door definitely fell into the category of adult disobedience, no matter how much he wanted to hear it, no matter how long he had been curious why his father distrusted Galadriel so much.

With a resigned sigh, he stepped forward and into view of the occupants of the sitting room, continuing on his way to the Green.

"Legolas!" Mithrandir's voice called after him.

Legolas stopped, but did not immediately turn. He truly wanted to go to the Green, but there was nothing for it. He adopted a courteous smile, spun around and took a few steps into the sitting room. "Fair evening, Mithrandir. Are you and Adar going to join the merrymaking on the Green? I think folks there are rather hoping to see some fireworks--you have given enough to Radagast to give my cousins and I as gifts, that you are firmly associated with them now. I doubt you carry fireworks about with you while scouting trouble in foreign lands, though."    

Mithrandir smiled at him and the merely courteous smile Legolas wore took on true warmth. Radagast always had that same effect, too, Legolas thought. Every time he visited, he was fun to play with, when Legolas was much younger, or talk to once he grew older.

His father normally enjoyed Radagast's visits as well, but Thranduil was studying Mithrandir intently, a very grave expression on his face.

"I fear I do not have any fireworks with me. That will please only your lord father, I imagine," Mithrandir said with a wink. Then he patted the seat of the chair next to him, inviting Legolas to sit.

Thranduil hated the fireworks, that was true. He feared they would burn down the forest. Legolas looked at his father. Could the mention of fireworks be what had put him on edge, Legolas wondered as he obediently sat on the edge of the seat Mithrandir had indicated.

"But I would like to join that merrymaking, none-the-less," Mithrandir continued without pause. "Woodelves are excellent at merrymaking." He turned back to Thranduil, apparently oblivious to the stare leveled on him. "Your wine does not hurt matters. Will there be any of it available tonight?"

Thranduil leaned back in his chair without taking his eyes off the Wizard. "I can have Galion bring a barrel from the cellars in your honor, Mithrandir," he replied.

Mithrandir's smile again lit the room in appreciation. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed. He turned back to Legolas and looked him up and down. "I have heard a great deal about you from Radagast, naturally," he said. "And I have learned a great deal more the little I have seen of you since my arrival. Do you intend to participate in some of the Woodelves' famous archery contests this evening?"

Legolas's gaze shifted from Mithrandir to his father. He had his bow with him. He could hardly deny that he intended to participate in the games. That was not something he wanted to call attention to however. Fortunately he was spared the need to answer.

"Please explain your interest in my son, Mithrandir," Thranduil said quietly. He had never ceased studying the Wizard.

Legolas could not hide his surprise at that question. His father seemed almost distrustful. In the presence of any other foreigner, if his father reacted this way, Legolas would be instantly grateful to be fully armed. In this instance, he was completely confused. He was no fool. Radagast and Mithrandir were more than old Men. That would be clear, if for no other reason than stories of Radagast went back almost a thousand years. And Legolas knew Thranduil considered both Radagast and Mithrandir allies. So his suspicious glare set Legolas on edge.

Mithrandir only laughed. "I do appreciate your directness, Thranduil," he said. "It is so much easier than the machinations one sees in so many courts."

Thranduil nodded, but he did not smile. "Answer the question," he said.

Mithrandir shrugged. "Legolas impressed me in your court this afternoon," he said.

Legolas openly cringed. That was the last thing he wanted to remind his father of, especially when he was in this mood.

"It took courage, standing up to you under those circumstances. Or perhaps--even better--it was merely instinct. In either case, naturally I approve of the mercy he was willing to show that Elf you sentenced to exile." Mithrandir turned back to Legolas. "I once visited Nienna quite often. I learned from her the value of pity and of mercy. Those who can employ it show true wisdom."

Legolas's first thought was to hope that Mithrandir's words would help temper his father's reaction to the reminder of his behavior in court. Then what Mithrandir had said about Nienna struck him. He blinked and struggled to keep his mouth shut. "You visited Nienna quite often?" he finally managed to whisper, looking from Mithrandir to his father.

Mithrandir's bushy eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "You have not mentioned to your son and heir who Radagast and I are?" he asked, amused.

Thranduil also appeared to be amused. "I was under the impression that who you are is also a topic that is not to be discussed." Then he focused on Legolas. "It is a topic that may not be discussed. With anyone. Not even Hallion," he said firmly.

"Understood," Legolas replied, still processing the implication of Mithrandir's comment. He had been in Valinor? How could that be? Elves did not return from Valinor, and Mithrandir was no Elf even if they did. But other than Elves, the only beings allowed in Valinor.... He had to be...Maia?

Mithrandir shook his head and stood. "I am going to partake in the merrymaking," he said, patting Legolas's shoulder. "I hope you join me soon." Then, with a bow to Thranduil, he turned and left the room.

Legolas did not watch him. He was still looking at his father in shock.

Thranduil smiled at him. "He is Maia," he confirmed. "Sent by Manwe. Radagast told me that he is Yavanna's servant."

Legolas loosed a soft whistle and looked down at his lap. "I knew they are not Men, of course. I suppose I never questioned further than that, because you obviously trust them."

Thranduil stood and walked over to the cart that held wine and small treats for the family. He reached for the decanter that held Dorwinion. "I trust them. I believe them when they say they will do what they can against Sauron. I simply do not know what that will be, and that lack of knowledge makes me wary. You have made a fine impression on Mithrandir, that is certain. None-the-less, I advise you to remain as far under his notice as you can," he said as he poured a goblet of wine. "But I recognize I cannot control whether you do that or not." He surprised Legolas by handing him the goblet. Legolas took it automatically. "You are very near to adulthood," Thranduil continued as he poured another goblet. "Much nearer than I had realized until the last few weeks. All too soon your fate will be your own to manage." Thranduil returned to his chair and put one hand on its arm to help ease himself into it. "Like Mithrandir, I have been very impressed with you recently, Legolas." He shook his head. "I am always impressed with you. Just more so recently. I am very pleased with the adult my son is becoming."

Legolas was almost as shocked to hear his father refer to him as 'near to adulthood' as he had been to hear Mithrandir was a Maia. "Thank you, adar," he said, not really certain how to respond.

Thranduil fixed him with a serious gaze. "I meant what I said to you in court."

Legolas steeled himself in response to that change in topic. He had expected, and knew he deserved, this reprimand. He was determined to respond respectfully to whatever his father would say.

"But I do not deny that you were right to stop me. I would have regretted very bitterly what I intended to do. I did not truly intend it," he corrected himself quickly. "Intent requires thought and I was not thinking. I was reacting. I cannot even describe to you the fury I felt when Demil spoke as he did of your naneth. And the rest of our family." He paused. "I would have had his blood on my hands before I managed to stop myself," he concluded, voice barely a whisper.

Legolas stared at his father. Instead of reprimanding him...this was almost a confession. "I think everyone present was infuriated by almost everything Demil said, adar," he finally said in an effort to offer his father some degree of absolution. He seemed to need it.

Thranduil looked back it him. "When Demil accused me of kinslaying, I was certainly infuriated. I imagine you were shocked to hear there was some truth to what he said."

Legolas's brow furrowed and he suddenly found it difficult to meet his father's gaze. "I knew you were in Menegroth when the sons of Feanor attacked it, adar. And Sirion. I did not imagine that you simply walked away from either of those battles without having to fight. I admit, I have never, before today, allowed that fact to draw to its natural conclusion. I cannot imagine being forced into such a position. Fighting the orcs was bad enough." He finally looked up at him. "You were not much older than I am when this happened, were you?" he asked, trying to imagine what it would be like to fight, not orcs, but elves.

"I was exactly the age you are now when the Dwarves attacked Menegroth and my cousin Ninglor was killed fighting along side me," Thranduil answered. "Celegorm attacked us around four years later, so I still was not of age. My father sent me to flee with my naneth and aunts, but we still had to fight our way out. I do not think I killed any elves in that attack--I only attempted to prevent those that attacked us from killing us. I know my adar killed some though. He fought throughout the entire battle for Menegroth, and it lasted nearly a month. I was an adult when Maedhros attacked Sirion--85 or so, I think. I fought in that battle. I fought because I saw that, even though some of Maedhros's warriors refused to kill the elves that did not defend themselves, others did. They killed even those who would not fight. I attacked those elves and aimed to kill them. I admit I did it willingly."

Legolas had closed his eyes part way through that monologue. No wonder his father never spoke of Menegroth or Sirion, if that was what his life was like at Legolas's age. "I think I understand a little better why you have always been so adamant that my cousins and I know something more than just weapons training, adar."

"I do want more for you, ion nin," Thranduil replied. "But I will long be grateful for the day that you persuaded me to give you sword training. I am alive now because you had it and were able to defend yourselves and me."

Legolas's gaze snapped back to his father. He had said that before, in Dolgailon's village when he first awoke. Legolas had thought him delirious. He was clearly in his right mind now, and he appeared serious. Legolas had been too preoccupied by Tulus's suspicion and later too busy working with Hallion to give his father's words much thought. Frankly, he had avoided thinking of that battle at all, if he could help it. Hearing his father speak so frankly of how close he came to dying.... Legolas stood and stepped over to the chair where Thranduil was sitting. He knelt next to it and drew his father into an embrace. Thranduil returned it, holding Legolas close for a long moment. Then he sat back.

"Go out and enjoy some merrymaking with your naneth and cousins, Legolas," he said.

"You are coming," Legolas replied, sitting back on his heels. It was not really a question.

Thranduil shook his head. "I am exhausted and I confess that this wound aches. I do not care to dance or even sing."

"Then come and listen," Legolas said, standing and tugging at his father's arm. "My cousin's and I are not the only ones who need a little merrymaking, adar."

*~*~*

When Legolas and Thranduil stepped off the bridge and onto the Green, the usual shouts of greeting that met the King's arrival had drowned out the song being song near the wine barrels. Thranduil led Legolas in that direction, apparently determined to enjoy at least his share of the wine flowing so freely on the Green. As they approached, Legolas was a little surprised to see his mother was the one leading the song, accompanied by Engwe and his harp. They often sang with the minstrels, but Legolas had not expected his mother to be in the mood to do so tonight. When he and Thranduil got close enough to hear the words over the laughter they produced, Legolas had been reduced to staring at his mother. It was a song about Amglaur. Not a mournful song or a heroic song. It was cheerful. Jaunty even. As Lindomiel began singing the chorus again, all the elves around her, and Mithrandir, joined in.

It's the howl of the pack,
the joy of the chase,
the suspense of the prowl,
the thrill  of the hunt.
the delight of the conquest.
That is why it is grand
to be a wolf.

Thranduil's eyebrows went up. "My adar used to sing that song when I was young," he said. "But when he sang it, it was about him, not Amglaur." He shook his head. "Amglaur probably appropriated it and made it his own."

Legolas laughed lightly. "Is it possible that your adar and nana's adar made it up together, about both of them?" he asked.

Thranduil snorted. "Not likely," he replied while listening to the song and watching Lindomiel sing it. His expression faded fairly rapidly from contentment, if not happiness, at seeing Lindomiel apparently enjoying herself, to anger to poorly concealed grief.

Legolas studied him with obvious curiosity until Thranduil adopted an annoyed expression.

"I will miss Amglaur," he admitted. "He is your naneth's adar. Of course I cared for him." The annoyed expression intensified. "Difficult as he made it for me to do so. It is hard to care for someone who so thoroughly dislikes you. And your entire family." He pointed at Legolas. "You are the only member of the House of Oropher that Amglaur approved of and do not let that go to your head. He had to approve of his daughter's son and if he could have taken you to Lothlorien and raised you himself so that you were nothing like me, he would have done so in the blink of an eye."

Legolas was openly laughing by the time his father had stopped speaking.

"It is not a joking matter, Legolas," Thranduil said. "I nearly did not win your daeradar's consent to marry your naneth. He truly did not like me."

That only made Legolas laugh harder. "Adar, if I promised to keep daeradar's confidence, but only because the promise served to preserve his pride, am I released from that promise now that he is in Mandos?"

That made Thranduil turn a curious look on his son. "I am tempted to say 'yes' simply because I want to hear what he told you. But remember,  if you or I ever go to Valinor, we will see Amglaur again, and he may still value his pride."

Legolas thought about that for a moment. Then he shook his head. His father's happiness right now meant more to him than a promise Amglaur was silly to require and only possibly would have the opportunity to upbraid him for breaking. "I have no doubt that song was written by both my daeradars," he said, grinning at Thranduil. "They, along with Celeborn, Galathil, Uncle Engwe and Amdir were the Wolf Pack--so named by the High King himself, so daeradar told me. And if daeradar could have stolen me from you, it would have been to ensure I became the Wolf he expected me to be. Of course, part of the reason he wanted that was to annoy you, as payback for the fact that his daughter married a Wolf and caused him worry."

Thranduil burst out laughing. "I did not believe you until your last sentence. That part I believe. Amglaur told you this, did he?"

Legolas nodded, quite pleased to have made his father laugh.

The song about wolves had ended. Now Mithrandir was singing a different song. One that Legolas recognized, though not the version he was singing.

Where now she wanders none can tell,

In sunlight or in shade;

For lost of yore was Nimrodel

And in the mountains strayed.

The elven-ship in haven grey

Beneath the mountain-lee

Awaited her for many a day

Beside the roaring sea.

A wind by night in Northern lands

Arose, and loud it cried,

And drove the ship from elven-strands

Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore

Now low beyond the swell,

And cursed the faithless ship that bore

Him far from Nimrodel.

Of old he was an Elven-king,

A lord of tree and glen,

When golden were the boughs in spring

In fair Lothlorien.

From helm to sea they saw him leap,

As arrow from the string,

And dive into the water deep,

As mew upon the wing.

The wind was in his flowing hair,

The foam about him shone;

Afar they saw him strong and fair

Go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word,

And on the Hither Shore

No tidings Elven-folk have heard

Of Amroth evermore.

Legolas frowned. That was not how Maenil had sung the song. Obviously, they had added to it a good deal to fit Amroth and Nimrodel's fates. Once Mithrandir had finished singing, the minstrels, Lindomiel and a good number of people took up the song again, repeating it.

"I do not understand how she can sing that," Thranduil commented softly, looking at Lindomiel.

Legolas shook his head. "Neither do I. I was thinking earlier that Nana has far more strength than I."

Thranduil loosed a short laugh. "I have thought that several times over the last month, but I am not yet ready to listen to songs of Amroth or Amglaur." He turned and scanned the Green, gaze finally settling on the archery targets partially hidden by the boughs of the Oak. "Come on, Legolas. You have your bow. You obviously intended to participate in those games tonight. Let us see if you are as good as I have heard you are."

Legolas's eyebrows went up, but he did not resist as his father led him towards the Oak.

"We have to make sure your daeradar is satisfied with you if you ever have to confess to him that you broke his confidence," Thranduil continued, airily. "It might save you from his wrath." Then his expression soured, albeit so dramatically that Legolas wondered if he was entirely serious. "Besides, we both know that is where all your cousins have disappeared. We would not want to give any of them, including Dolgailon, the mistaken impression that they have gone beneath my notice."

Legolas laughed out loud. Now that sounded more like his father!

*~*~*

AN: Obviously, the song Mithrandir has brought from Lothlorien is the song Legolas sings for the Fellowship after they cross the Nimrodel on their way between Moria and Lothlorien.

There is one more chapter to this story (an epilogue). Sorry that this chapter is so insanely long. There was no good place to split it.

Adar--Father
Naneth--Mother
Daeradar--Grandfather