Answers to Reviews:

Auguruj: Well, I had to give you a bit of down time before throwing this chapter at you ;) I think, somewhere in his twisted little head, Damien did think he'd convince him. It was a small thought, but it was there nonetheless. He's a bit silly like that XD Even then, Thranduil would be quite unwilling to let her go/give her up, for a good number of reasons; not least among them being that he likes having someone around who isn't afraid to give him an arful every now and again XD Oh yeah, most definitely time - it's been a good while in the works, but things'll progress from here, though by how much, and how quickly, I'm not saying a thing ;) And well you should be - I've gone to great lengths in order to keep this one under wraps, and I can assure you it's going to be hilarious watching the fallout from it XD Muhahaha, you are now mine for all eternity and beyond!

BetaWolfSis: Heh, thank you! It took a while to come up with it, but the more I thought about it the more logical it seemed that Thranduil would have powers like that, considering he's able to keep everyone in and outside of his halls safe from evil, and can march an entire army through a forest (which is hella tangled and shizz) with barely any delay. Woo, glad it's got you hooked! Enjoy this latest chapter, and the...well, actually, no, there's going to be no relief from the suspense this time XD

Waifutaku: Thank you! It's always nice to hear that people love my writing, no matter how many times it's said! To be honest so am I - Bainor's a real sweetheart, and Thranduil has his own charm...but I'll be faithful to the pairing in the end...or will I? XD Thranduil, jealous? Neeeeeever :D

A/N: Hey guys, Devicorn here. I'm going to be leaving out the usual skit I do at the start and end of each chapter this time, as I'm going on holiday for a couple of weeks in a few hours, so I barely even have the time to post this, and also because I've got a plan for the A/N that doesn't actually work if I do one for this chapter ^^' Also also, I want you guys to just focus on the chapter this time, as it's a cracker, I promise! Well, without further ado, here it is!

37: Knife in the Dark

Barely even a day after our little meeting with Damien, and Thranduil's outright refusal to hand me over, and already something had happened. There had been one heck of a skirmish at the borders of Thranduil's domain as the sun rose on the first day of a burning hot July, which was to be expected considering the threats Damien had made the day before, but what wasn't expected was for two humans to somehow make it through the outer line of defence whilst said skirmish went on, and be picked up a little while later as they skulked about within the borders.

As soon as word had reached him Thranduil, still somewhat tired, had requested to see them as soon as they arrived within his halls.

"I do not like this," he had admitted quietly as the two us made our way towards his throne chamber, with me ducking my head from the lingering gazes of the other Elves we passed by. "They should never have made it alive through the first line of defence, even if there was a battle going on…and yet they somehow managed to without being noticed until later on."

The questioning of the two humans did nothing to allay my friend's worries, either. The answers they gave were pretty standard – more of my kind had been seen in acting in league with the Orcs and other foul creatures spat out from Dol Guldur – and their reactions to Thranduil and his decree that they were to spend their time from now on in his prisons were pretty standard…and yet both he and I couldn't help but feel something was slightly off about the whole situation, something that didn't sit right no matter how it was looked at.

Sighing quietly to myself as I dangled my feet in the cool waters of the river flowing through Thranduil's realm, I turned my eyes to the heat hazed sky. "What's going on, Aeolus?" I questioned softly in Westron, massaging my scarred left calf. "I knew these battles at Thranduil's borders were going to get worse…but I didn't expect anyone to manage to get through unless they were a great force of arms. Thranduil confirmed that they had no spells or the like on them…but those humans still managed to get through."

I groaned and slumped on to my back, feet still in the blessedly cool river. "Oh I wish things could just be simple!"

Aeolus's muzzle entered into my vision as he stood over me, odd eyes bright in the sun, and I smiled slightly. "Even if things can't be simple, at least I have you here with me," I murmured, reaching up and caressing my stallion's head. Aeolus snuffled at the sweat beading on my forehead – it really was hot, even in the shade – before turning and folding to the ground behind me, legs tucking against his side as he leant into a comfortable little space created by the twining roots of a cherry tree, which had long since lost all its blossom. I stretched out a hand, lightly grasping one of Aeolus's hooves, and closed my eyes, trying to find some peace on this hot summer afternoon.

The next few days were, by recent standards, quiet at the borders, or so I was told. There were no more major skirmishes like the one that had allowed the two humans to slip through the border guards a week ago, and no more loss of life. However, far from comforting me, this only worsened my anxiety, which had been growing since the two humans had been caught. Thranduil, too, seemed to be growing more and more uneasy each time I saw him, and there was nothing that I could say or do to help with that as I was feeling exactly the same.

Despite all of this, though, Thranduil had gradually relaxed the increased guard he had set up around his halls the moment we had returned from our little meet up with Damien, something to ward of anything should it make it through the border guards and become a real threat. The guards that had previously been assigned to standing outside of my door at night, keeping watch for anything that might want to harm me during my sleep, had been relieved of that duty, and the extra patrols both in and outside of the Elvenking's halls had slowly become less and less, though there was still an air of watchfulness about those that remained.

I had, out of curiosity, visited the two newest inmates in Thranduil's prisons, because I hadn't, other than at a distance when I had travelled outside of Mirkwood occasionally, actually been around other humans for almost three years, and as wonderful as Elves, even when they were staring with suspicion at me, were I missed seeing others of my own kind.

The two men had been huddled at the backs of their cells when I had arrived, but as soon as I'd stepped into their view they had seemed to perk up somewhat. Their eyes fixed upon me, and the smaller one of the two had stepped forwards to the bars of his cell, still silent but watchful now. I had returned their stares, taking in ears that weren't, for once, pointed, and faces that were lined with both marks from the sun and from time, and had found myself somewhat less unhappy than I had been before, though my anxiety remained intact. Seeing faces that weren't agelessly beautiful to look at, and figures that weren't innately as tall and lithe as a young willow, was somehow comforting.

Sighing quietly to myself, I leant my head back against the side of the bath, enjoying how cool the water felt against my skin when compared with the still sweltering air of the July evening. As nice as warm baths were, nothing could beat lying in cool waters when it was as hot as this. Oh air conditioning, how I miss thee sometimes, I mused drowsily, staring up at the soft light above me. Though Thranduil's caves were noticeably cooler than outside, it was still sometimes unbearably warm, and what made it worse was I was the only one who was as affected by it – Elves being extremely resilient to great highs or lows of temperatures.

Staying in the pleasant waters for a few more minutes, I then slowly hauled myself out and wrapped a towel around me, taking my time in drying myself and slipping into a light white nightgown, as everything else I did at the moment seemed to be rushed. Go here, go there, keep this in mind, keep an eye out for anything suspicious, that's all I seem to be doing as of late. Ahh well, at least I can have some peace at night, or when I am with those few friends I have left.

I hummed out the start of a new piece of music I'd been trying to write for a good couple of days, wondering when it would finally let me take note of it, making sure that my violin case was tucked next to my dresser, and that my violin was sat on its stand, ready for me to pick up as soon as the notes became more than just part of my thoughts. As I did so a cramp twisted my stomach this way and that before calming down slightly. Grimacing – my monthly visitor had been slightly late this month, so my cramps were lasting longer than usual – I flopped down on to my bed and reached for the little bottle sat on my dresser next to my music book.

It was a wonderful mixture that the healers had given me, soothing away my aches and pains within about five minutes and leaving me with no side effects whatsoever, much to my delight. It was almost like pain killers from my world, apart from the fact that it actually tasted nice and didn't make me gag halfway through trying to swallow it. It didn't, however, remove all the pain, and like that time Thranduil had had to come and sit with me it would sometimes be completely ineffective.

Shaking the bottle, I huffed slightly at the pretty-much-empty sound it made, knowing that I'd have to go and get some more tomorrow. It wasn't that the healers weren't nice to me, though some of them did seem to go out of their way to avoid me, and most spent as little time talking to me as possible; rather, it was the fact that I would actually have to get up and move rather than just lying in bed clutching my stomach.

I wonder if I can get Thranduil to come and sit with me again like he did today, I thought to myself as I unscrewed the top and, pouring the remaining liquid into it to make sure that it was the right amount, downing it in one. Or if he's too busy, perhaps Bainor would be willing to if he's not in duty…I'll try and drag myself from my bed tomorrow to find one of them…

I rubbed my eyes tiredly, trying to rid them of the blurriness that was beginning to appear at the edges as sleep tried to claim me. No, I have to brush my hair and make sure my covers are rolled right back so…they don't…make me too warm…ugh, go away, sleep, I groaned as the blurriness stubbornly stayed put…no, more than that. It was growing, spreading right across my eyes until it was almost like a film of tears was covering them. My muscles, which had been fine before, began to shake with the effort of holding me up. Moments later, as if they had become jelly in the space of a few seconds, they gave out, dropping the bottle from my hand with a crack and sprawling me on to my back on my bed.

What…the…hell? I struggled to think, the haziness spreading from my eyes and into my thoughts as I tried, failed, tried and failed again to move my now seemingly paralyzed body. What….what is…go…ing…o…n!? was the last thought I could manage before my eyes shuttered closed and sleep overcame me.

Ugh….my head…I groaned, tongue and head feeling like they were made of cotton. Was I…..drugged…but I know there was nothing other than….that healing mixture in that bottle….I saw them pouring it in….and it's worked the past two nights without this happening….wait….oh I can't even think completely straight…let's just try opening my eyes….see what happens then…

Ignoring how warm I was, and how I could actually hear the air breathing against my sweating skin, I, with no little effort, forced my heavy lids open a millimetre at a time.

The first thing I noticed was that the lights, which I hadn't turned off before whatever it was that had happened to me occured, were no longer emitting their soft glow, and my room was in almost pitch blackness, all apart from a soft flicker of what could have been candlelight to my left.

Huh…that's…odd…I wonder- I started to think, but before I could finish this groggy thought I noticed a second thing, something that stopped my heart for a moment. The glint of a blade as it lifted above my throat before plummeting down.

With a yell of terror I hurled my still heavy body to the right as hard as I could. I felt a rush of wind as the blade plunged past my cheek, missing me by a hairs breadth.

Crashing to the floor, I wasted no time in twisting the right way up and struggling to face whoever it was that had almost killed me.

For a moment, just a moment, everything seemed to slow down to a snail's pace. A knife, held by one of the humans I had thought to be locked up in a prison cell far away from my room, was stabbed up to the hilt into the mattress my head had been covering not a second ago. The man's expression was one of shock, as if he hadn't expected me to wake up, as were those of the other two figures on the other side of my bed. That's the other man…from the prison cells….and that's….

"You!" I hissed, and at my words my mind gave a great boot to my fight or flight response, and everything snapped back into real time. I shot to my feet and launched myself sideways towards the door, my only escape route from whatever nightmare situation I had woken to find myself in. A great shout went up from the two men, and something whistled past my ear, slicing through strands of hair that whipped around my head.

Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT! my thoughts screeched as I wrenched open my door and as I heard an angry cry of "I told you to slit her throat, not to try and stab her!" behind me. What the hellisgoingonhere!

I crashed through my door even as the sounds of pursuit began, a resounding CRACK echoing from my darkened room along with hissed curses and the slamming of booted feet against the stone floor. My breaths were short and sharp as I sprinted down the guest wing corridor, heart hammering in my chest and ears. Everything but the end of the corridor became a blur to me as I raced on, away from the death that thundered along behind me with a knife poised to kill.

Skidding and almost tripping over my feet I hurtled left, body trembling with adrenaline as I headed towards the only place of safety I could think of: Thranduil's rooms.

A voice, shrill with panic and almost shattering my ear drums it was so loud, shrieked out, "Help! HELP!" over and over again, and it took me a second to realise that I was the one screaming, and not something else voicing the terrified thoughts racing through my mind.

"Out of my WAY!" another voice snapped out behind me even as I cried out for help again and again, and I felt my heart almost stop as I heard how close it was. Oh please please please let me be heard! I can't die now! Not yet!

"Please! I need helpAHHHHH!" my words trailed off into a scream of agony as something wickedly sharp thudded into my left shoulder. I staggered slightly, more from shock than anything else, but before I could sprint forwards again something else slammed into me, sending me sprawling to the floor with its weight.

Blackness overcame my vision as my head hit the floor and warmth began to spread over my shoulder, but before I could so much as blink it away and try to struggle up from underneath the weight now pinning me to the floor I was grabbed viciously by the hair. My breath caught in my throat as my head was yanked up and held there by indomitable strength. My vision swam with tears of pain, blurring everything.

"I have had enough of your kind!" Dagalion's voice hissed in my ear as he tugged something loose from my shoulder that sent a shudder of dull pain through me. "Always making life more difficult for the Eldar, be it by intention or not," he continued, and as he did so I felt a sharp edge begin to bite into my bared throat, as if…

That thing about someone's life flashing before their eyes just as they're about to die? Completely false. All I could think as the knife dug harder into my skin and as blood began to trickle warmly down my neck was Shitshitshitfuckthat'saknife! and I'mgoingtodiehere! No happy memories of my family, no bittersweet smiles as I looked fondly over the time I had spent here in Middle-earth. Only complete and utter terror and denial.

Faint clanking in the near distance reached my ears, but moments later Dagalion's words drowned it out. "Perhaps now you will be able to return to your own world, mortal," he spat. A shout went up at the end of the corridor but we both ignored it.

My breaths came in ragged gasps as I fought for every last one, not knowing which would be my last until I felt the hand holding my hair tug slightly, baring my throat further to the wickedly sharp edge of the knife. I went limp in Dagalion's grasp as what was about to happen became almost inevitable, heart still beating as fast as it could, trying to eke out the last moments of my life. And then it hit me. Or, to be correct, hit Dagalion.

One of the the figures that had been swimming in my blurred vision hurled something towards me, and next moment Dagalion was thrown from my now sticky back with a great hiss as the air left his lungs.

For the second time my head slammed into the stone floor, sending my vision spiralling with black. When I recovered I scrambled forwards and away, dragging myself towards where I had seen the figures but finding my arms trembled with the effort. Shouts and yells went up behind me as I, gasping for breath and feeling lightheaded, hauled myself over to the right until my fingers came into contact with the blessedly solid wall.

A sickening thud echoed down the corridor as I slumped back against the wall, sweat trickling in rivers down my back and blood pattered down from my throat. Opening my finally un-blurring eyes, I wearily examined the situation around me, adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

A few feet to the left lay the unconscious form of Dagalion, stood over by two of the guards. A small knife lay near him, the same one that one of the men had tried to stab me with what felt like a life time ago. Blood coated its surface and that of the floor around it, turning it from glinting silver to deep crimson.

A little further down were Dagalion's two mortal companions, who had somehow managed to escape from their prison cells. One was sprawled against the wall, also unconscious and with a guard standing by him, and the other was being pinned mercilessly to the floor by the fourth and final guard who seemed to have come running from outside Thranduil's rooms. As I watched, the Elf raised his halberd-like weapon and slammed the rounded bottom of it into the back of the man's skull, causing him to slump to the floor as well.

"Fenna!?" came a question sharp with concern. Blinking sluggishly – everything was beginning to seem a bit unreal, as if drawn from a dream – I turned and looked up at the person who had spoken.

"Bainor…was it you who stopped Dagalion from slitting my throat?" I questioned, as if asking about the weather. My heart was beginning to calm, now, my fight or flight response telling me that there was no more danger at this moment in time. Bainor nodded as he knelt at my side, his eyes full of worry and confusion. I smiled faintly, though it was tainted with a wince of pain as my shoulder gave a painful twinge.

"Well…thank you…hey, what are you doing?" I asked as Bainor, ignoring my thanks, reached out and pulled me away from the wall slightly by my left shoulder, causing me to groan. His eyes went wide as he looked me over. Muttering a worried curse, he then turned and looked over to his companions, who were watching the two of us with questioning looks.

"Melui, fetch one of the healers, now!" he called, much to my confusion.

"Bainor, my throat…isn't that badly cut…I don't need a healer," I huffed as the elleth went running away, the edges of my vision still somewhat blurry and trembles running through me despite the heat of the air. Bainor returned his gaze to me for a moment, saying, "It is not the wound on your throat that I am worried about," he replied, holding up the hand that had been resting on my left shoulder. The armoured glove he wore was covered in blood.

Thranduil frowned as he scanned the moonlit darkness about him. Nothing was out of place – the great windows overlooking the garden below were as wide open as he had left them, a warm breeze flowing through them; the canopy around his bed was drawn right back – and yet, for some reason he could not quite place a finger on, he was ill at ease as he lay beneath the light summer covers. Perhaps it was the heat; he had never liked weather such as that blanketing his home at the moment…or perhaps it was that scream of terrified pain that had echoed faintly in his ears moments ago, ominously lacking any dream-like quality. Either way, something was bothering him enough to draw him from the waking dream he had been wandering through.

Sighing quietly to himself, Thranduil drew himself from under the covers and swung his legs over the side of his bed, slipping a light cloak over his night clothing and stepping into a pair of shoes. He would not find peace for a while now that he was up.

I wonder if Fenna will be feeling any better tomorrow, Thranduil mused as he padded towards the door to his bedroom, brushing a long strand of hair from his eyes. …From the way she was today, though, I doubt that will be the case…I will visit her in the morning, and see if she wishes for company again.

Nodding to himself, Thranduil glided into his large study, heading for the books he had left resting upon the table in the middle of the chairs. On top of the pile was the book Fenna had requested Thranduil read to her earlier that day as she rested in her bed, eyes screwed shut in pain and arms wrapped tightly about her stomach. It was the first one he had lent to her to aid in her understanding of Sindarin and Silvan, the one filled with poems from across ages he had and hadn't seen, and though she had read and re-read it several times over her time here in Middle-earth she still seemed to enjoy reading it or having it read to her.

He reached out as he drew to a stop beside the table, intending to move it aside so as to tidy the other books beneath it. Just as he did so, however, he became aware of footsteps hurrying up the stairs outside the door to his room. Frowning once more, he looked towards the source of the noise. Who would the guards let up here so late at night? Fenna, perhaps...no, these are not her footsteps I hear, Thranduil thought as the footsteps stopped, only to be followed closely by a rapid burst of Sindarin, the words of which were filled with worry. One word in particular caught Thranduil's attention, sending a chill shivering down his spine as he deciphered it.

Turning away from the books, Thranduil strode over to the emerald door to his rooms and pulled it open just as a rapid fire knock sounded on the other side.

"What is wrong, Argalad, Estel?" he questioned, heart growing colder by the second as he took in their grim expressions, mirrored upon the faces of Galu and Rovain, the guards stood either side of his door. "Has something happened?"

Estel glanced to Argalad, apprehension mixing with the worry upon her face, before turning back to Thranduil. "It is Fenna…she has been attacked, my King…and injured-!"

Thranduil barely registered the last part of the elleths sentence as he, hearing what had happened, was already sweeping down the stairs, beckoning for the guards to follow him with a sharp motion of his hand. The chill from earlier shuddered through the icy barriers around his heart as if they weren't there, breaking through his mask in the form of a worried frown and a clenching of his hands into tight fists. He had not felt this…this worry – no, this fear – for the life of anyone besides his son for a long while.

Robes sweeping about him, Thranduil rounded the corner, eyes immediately drawn to the scene a little way down from where he was. Instantly they widened, taking in the three prone figures before inevitably finding the great streak of crimson staining cloth that had once been pure white.

"Fenna!"

I was still staring at the blood on my hand, the one I had just lightly pressed to my left shoulder, when the cry reached my ears. Sluggishly I turned my head, and found myself watching as a familiarly tall figure glided swiftly towards Bainor and I.

"Thranduil…" I murmured as the Elvenking, closely followed by four guards, came to a stop and knelt down beside me, ice chip eyes full of shock and concern as they stared down at me.

"What happened, mellon?" he questioned softly as he reached out and took my non-bloodied hand in both of his. The four guards who had followed him gathered a little distance away, eyes switching between myself and the prone bodies of my attackers.

"I…I don't know…One minute I…ugh…my head," I trailed off, a spell of dizziness rushing over me. Distantly I realised that that was definitely not a good sign, but there wasn't much I could do other than sit there and try and last through whatever it was, as my limbs, now lacking all adrenaline, felt as weak as a new-born's.

Thranduil's concerned look grew, as did Bainor's, and after a moment more of watching me he turned his gaze to my shoulder, which was now truly beginning to ache with a deep, throbbing pain, though not as much as I would have expected from a stab wound. Perhaps it's a remnant of my adrenaline, or perhaps it's because I might just possibly be going into shock, but-

Thranduil hissed softly as he took a proper look at my wound, and I grimaced, questioning, "Is it really that bad?" in a voice that was beginning to tremble at the edges. Sweat was beginning to bead on my skin, and my head was beginning to really hurt now.

The look the Elvenking gave me was enough to answer my question, and I felt my heart rate increasing as anxiety blossomed in the pit of my stomach.

"Has anyone sent for a healer?" Thranduil questioned sharply, closing his eyes momentarily in seeming relief as Bainor, still crouched by my side, nodded, though that relief was soon gone from his expression as I groaned again, clutching at my now cramping stomach. God….damn periods…and stab wounds, I thought sluggishly as Thranduil then turned his attentions to the two men and Dagalion, who were all still unconscious. His eyes widened slightly before narrowing, and the guards backed away as the temperature around their king seemed to drop several degrees.

"How did they….never mind," Thranduil interrupted himself, shaking his pale head as he kept his eyes fixed upon Dagalion. "Take all three of them to the deepest prison cells, and have guards posted around them at all times. I will call for them when I wish to interrogate them as to what they have tried to do. And find Rhoveleg and have him brought to me at once," he continued, rising fluidly. Everyone barring Bainor, who seemed more than a little reluctant to leave my side, hurried to follow his orders, not a word being spoken as they set to picking up the unconscious bodies. One of them, from what little I could now see properly, went to pick up the knife that had minutes ago been embedded in my shoulder, but just as he did so Thranduil's sharp voice rang out.

"No, leave it with me," he commanded, holding out a hand for the bloodied weapon and examining it swiftly once it was handed to him.

After a moment of relative silence, in which my head continued to throb painfully and my stomach cramped and roiled, Thranduil then turned his attentions back to Bainor and I.

"Come, Fenna, let us take you somewhere safe and comfortable," he murmured softly, voice surprisingly calm despite the situation. I blinked several times, trying and yet again failing to rid my eyes of the ever encroaching blur, before nodding slowly and trying to push myself up on to my feet.

Before I was even able to get my legs under myself, though, I was forced to slump back to the floor, limbs shaking from the effort and heart beginning to hammer in my chest. Or had it already been doing that, and my fuzzy, aching head had just blocked the sound from my ears? I didn't know.

Bainor, seeing my struggle, reached out and carefully helped me up before Thranduil could do so, his arm about my waist as he easily set me on my feet. As soon as he did so, though, he was forced to catch me as I staggered and almost collapsed back to the floor, muscles feeling like jelly.

"Hurt'salot…" I muttered, rubbing a hand slowly across my eyes as my speech slurred like that of someone who'd had more than too much to drink. The concern on Thranduil's blurring face grew, and reaching out he carefully took me from Bainor, huffing slightly as I slumped almost completely into his side as my body refused to do anything more than barely support me. My thoughts strove to panic, to scream warnings at me, but a haze was slowly settling over me, blanketing everything and making all but the pain numb.

Distantly I heard Thranduil command Bainor to wait where he was for the healers, before slowly and gently pulling me along, but all I could properly concentrate was the worsening nausea rolling through my stomach, and the pounding of my head and heart, which was growing and growing and growing with every passing second.

Moments passed….or had it been hours? Possibly seconds? I couldn't tell…either which way, I found myself being gently sat down on one of the seats in Thranduil's study however much time had passed later. As the lights were switched on by whatever means were used to operate them I flinched, needles of pain stabbing into my eyes.

What…ugh…the hell is going on with me….could it be that….whatever sent me to….who…what's going on with me? I thought, unable to hold on to a train of thought for long before it slipped away like a water slicked fish.

Hands, cold against my sweating skin, pressed to my forehead, and opening my eyes a slit I found Thranduil sat beside me, eyes flickering over me in a worried manner as he withdrew his cool touch. I tried to say something, to get him to cover my forehead again, but all that came out was a slurred, garbled mess that did nothing to help with my growing fright and suspicion that something was terribly.

"She is in here," Thranduil was saying moments later, and I realised that he was no longer beside me, no longer grounding me as I started to drift in and out of consciousness. My stomach twisted this way and that in a way more painful than I had ever experienced before, threatening me with a reappearance of my dinner, but that was the least of my worries right then as, unable to hold myself up any longer, I slumped against the side of the sofa, head lolling at an angle and heart now feeling as though it was about to burst out from my chest.

Thranduil….someone….help….I tried to say aloud, but could manage nothing more than a dry throated rasp as my vision began to darken and fade, and my hearing filled with a buzz that only added to the pain.

Only one sound, one word, made it through to me before I was dragged into darkness.

"….Poisoned!"

Heeeey guys, enjoyed the chapter, and see why I couldn't show you the title of it last time? Good, because, I'm sorry to say, there's not going to be a Next Time as even one line would give far too much away to keep you all on the tenterhooks I know you'll be hanging on after what you've just read. This won't be too regular of a thing; it'll only happen when there's a chapter or two that relies on being a complete surprise to have maximum impact. Enjoy the suspense and please don't hurt meeeeeee! *runs away into the Jamaican sunset with Thranduil under one arm and laptop under the other*