Disclaimers: Unfortunately I don't have a Lee Pace. Not the original, and not any of his characters. Written for enjoyment only.
Genre: Angst/Family. Majoring on Hurt/Comfort.
Set: Well after BOTFA, but before LOTR
Pairing: slight Thranduil/Tauriel and canon Legolas/Tauriel
"His highness requests your presence in his chambers at once."
Tauriel chastised herself for Galion's words startling her. Standing in an inconspicuous opening in the wall of the upper parts of the Elvenking's cavernous Halls, where she chose to complete her restorative meditation for the evening, the redhead wasn't even aware that her whereabouts didn't go unnoticed. How very unscoutly of her. "At this hour?" The captain voiced her surprise. The king liked to keep to himself at certain times of the day. "What happened?" She asked anxiously. It was either a problem that concerned everyone, or she had done something again that displeased the crowned head. But enough to order her in his private rooms? What could it be? Her relationship with Thranduil was shaky at best at any time and while it never was without frictions, it had certainly never recovered from her temporary deserting before and during the Battle of Erebor and her subsequent, brief banishment.
"I am not at liberty to discuss particulars at this moment in time," the handsome butler announced, chin held high and turned, expecting the elleth to follow. Their relationship had never been good either, but then again Tauriel didn't have many friends.
"But you do know what it is, right?" The captain assumed.
"Yes." The dark haired elf allowed gravely. "And it is of utmost importance that we hurry."
Tauriel had already adjusted her steps to the rushing servant's and in her hurry almost crashed into Feren round the corner, who joined them on their way to the king's chambers. "You were summoned too?" The chief lieutenant rumbled, more establishing than asking. He was peeved the captain was in the king's good graces enough to be considered when something doubtless must've went wrong. As opposed to Thranduil, Feren never forgiven her siding with the dwarves against her own kind.
"What's going on?" Tauriel tried her luck with him anyway.
"Calanon, Legolas, Glanhelmion, Mablung and Alastegiel are waiting for us to join them." Feren sped up his steps even more as way of explanation.
"So you don't know either," Tauriel couldn't help but wrangle with him.
Feren didn't deem her worthy of an answer this time as he charged forward, arrogant streak manifest. The situation seemed utmost strange and concerning nevertheless, not to mention making little sense. Thranduil had summoned his two main officers in charge of security, his two main councillors and his son-telling of a possible threat that needed dealt with, but why was Mablung and Alastegiel, a musician and a herbs gatherer by trade asked to come? Judging by the faces, Tauriel was not any more confused than the rest of them, all nervously gathering in front of the king's private quarters. Her gaze questioned Legolas, but he shrugged, clueless as well and fell into step with her, close on her side.
"Please file to take a seat on the divans in an orderly manner," Galion let them inside Thranduil's chambers, "His Highness would like to start straightway."
Thranduil nodded once at them all as a collective in greeting, sitting leisurely on a large, red armchair facing the others. His informal meeting room this was, Tauriel could count it on one hand how many times she'd been in it and never for the room's intended purpose, just reporting back to the king when something pressing arose on patrol that could not wait.
Looking up attentively, Tauriel inched a little away from Legolas' legs as they sat on the two-people divan, knowing their closeness will not please his father. Legolas had not long been back from his travels with a new friend and strange prisoner in tow, but seemingly his feelings for her have not changed.
Thranduil however, didn't pay attention to their positions, "I waited for all of you so I can say this once. I believe I have been poisoned." He proclaimed evenly, reserved, leaning forward somewhat.
There was a moment when it felt like time reeled as everyone eyed the king incredulously, at a loss. Legolas moved first, standing to advance, "are you alright ada?"
"I am not." Thranduil answered just as calmly as before, though now that they knew there was something to notice, Tauriel thought his voice to be hoarser than usual.
"I beg your indulgence Your Highness, but why do you think so?" Calanon, one of the advisors present ventured.
"The symptoms. Nausea, dizziness, headache, hazy sight, lightheadedness, shortness of breath, intensely crippling stomach cramps." The king's voice was decidedly not normal, it was more like his lamenting and inpatient tone, but not quite. "Reminiscent of spider venom."
"And when did you experience these symptoms, My Lord?" Mablung spoke up and at that moment Tauriel realised that the musician wasn't there in that capacity. Elves rarely needed healers, especially when not at war, so it was easy to forget Mablung would serve as one, and was a very good healer at that if needed.
"As we speak." Thranduil announced, looking none different than a moment ago. But probing eyes now knew that the stiffness in his posture, the way he held on tightly to the arm of the chair and his paler appearance were no coincidence.
Taking a couple more steps forward, Legolas reached his father and placed a steadying hand on his father's shoulder, noting at close range the tremors that went through his frame. "Ada. You need to lie down."
"I asked you here to find out who poisoned me," Thranduil addressed the gathering.
"We will start interrogations at once," Glanhelmion offered.
"But first we need to know the facts. When did this start and can you trace it back to where and what contained the poison." Feren questioned.
"First we need to see to my father being well." Legolas established, irritated.
"Could I please ask Your Highness to come over to the divan and lie down so I can examine you?" Mablung suggested.
Thranduil paused, taking his time before giving a hesitant nod. He moved little, as much as getting his feet under himself and then closed his eyes, panting. Ostensibly, he could only keep in control in the specific position he had been sitting in, from the moment the mismatch of elves entered. Legolas steadied him, leaning close and Thranduil accepted it, looking for purchase himself as he stood. Mablung was at his other side in an instance, steadying him by holding his arm's underside.
"I don't know where it came from." Thranduil answered Feren. "I had dinner in my room and as soon as I realised what was happening, I called the meeting." A few steps and Thranduil was bending double, the other two elves making it possible only for him to make it over to the item of furniture he could lie on as they hurried to make the journey as quick as possible for the sake of shortening the king's anguish. Lying down he did ceremoniously not, he fell more like in a heap and curled up around his stomach, dependent on his helpers to arrange his limbs.
"May I inspect the remains of that dinner," Alastagiel asked Galion. Of course now it was evident why the herbs expert was present. "We have to find out what was in it as soon as possible."
Mablung knelt by the divan and placed a gentle hand on Thranduil's as the king held and protected his belly. "I need to feel for the damage if I may," he pleaded with him. The king groaned, seemingly losing control on his body and actions by the minute.
"And we need to start interrogating everyone that had anything to do with that dinner, and the wine," Calanon sprang into action, "Tauriel can start in the kitchens while…"
"Not Tauriel." Thranduil snapped out his pain induced frenzy at the word, "she is here as guard."
"Of course, excuse my foolhardiness, My Lord. If there was an attempt on your life, there should be someone here to protect you from further harm," chief advisor Celanon agreed, ushering Feren and Glanhelmion out to work while Galion led Alastagiel to the dining chamber.
Thranduil followed them out with his eyes, then threw his head back, grimacing in pain, allowing himself weakness now that only his son, a healer and Tauriel was present. "It hurts so much," he keened, hands hovering and finding it hard not to press them to his belly while Mablung prodded at him.
Tbc
