Author's Note: This took longer than I intended. Family emergency, a bit, but also… well, I wanted to have the next chapter ready to go before I posted this, so I didn't leave everyone too long on the way this chapter ends.

So, um, yeah. I did this.

At least two chapters to go after this… turns out there's more than I thought.

Part XV

Eryn Lasgalen, the Stronghold of the Elven-king: Present

Éowyn cannot imagine how Elves, who like, from what she has seen, dwellings full of light and space, who are happier sleeping under the stars than enclosed within stone walls, can stand to live in a mountain. Although beautifully carved, with well-placed sconces and strategic openings that allow sunlight to illuminate the murals, there is something forbidding about King Thranduil's stronghold.

This too, is something the Enemy must answer for.

It is early, but the stronghold has awoken. There are Elves in nearly every corridor, guards and others hurrying about their duties. That is fortunate; they are able to direct her so that she finds Legolas' study without too many false turnings.

She is relieved to find him there. Rochendilwen said he would be up, but Éowyn was doubtful.

He welcomes her in, but his smile is obviously forced, a mockery of his normal merry expression. She has never known Legolas to despair, even not in Helm's Deep when the forces of Saruman pressed in upon them and it seemed they must all die there. It troubles her.

"I am sorry, Lady Éowyn," Legolas says. "I have been a negligent host. Normally I would have found time to show you the woods around the stronghold, at least. The forest has always been brightest here."

"Legolas, I hope you will forgive the liberty," Éowyn begins, and then hesitates, wondering if she should have used his formal title. They are, after all, in the hall of his father, who has ruled the Woodland Realm for more years than Éowyn can comprehend. After a moment, she shrugs and goes on. Legolas has never stood on ceremony and she would feel odd addressing him with the same stiffness she uses to the lords of Elessar's court. "You do not look like yourself," she says bluntly.

"I am tired, no more."

"May I tell you something?"

"Yes, of course."

"You knew my uncle."

"I had the honour. He was a valiant man."

"He was the only father I ever knew. Éomer remembers our father, a little. I do not, and I barely remember our mother. My uncle could not supply her place, but he did everything he could to make me happy. Until… until it changed. You know what happened."

"That was not his fault, Lady Éowyn. Saruman was to blame. And the one you called Wormtongue."

"I know. And I know it is not the same as… As you said, my uncle was influenced by Saruman, and I do not think anybody in Rohan could have withstood his power. But… you see, I knew none of that. I only knew that my uncle, who had loved and protected me all my life, seemed to have turned against me. I… I can understand, I think, how you feel about Saeldur. He has been your brother-in-arms – your second – and on the field of battle you have trusted nobody more than you have him."

Legolas manages a laugh. "You are perceptive, Lady Éowyn. Is Arahael meant to be Wormtongue?"

"Wormtongue was never as fair as an Elf, either in appearance or in speech. But has Arahael not been doing the same thing? Has he not been whispering lies and brooding over his petty wrongs, so that all that was once good in him has been swept away?"

Legolas looks grave. "You speak truly, Lady Éowyn. Arahael faces a far worse fate than anything my father can devise if he does not find a way to purge his soul of hatred."

"You say nothing of Saeldur."

"Saeldur has not been plotting murder."

"That was not what I meant."

Legolas lets out a long breath, his blue eyes clouded. "It is not the same as it was with your uncle, Lady Éowyn. Saeldur does not have the excuse of Saruman's influence."

"No, he does not. I do not excuse what he has done – I cannot. I see how it grieves you. I know how… When I thought… I feared that my uncle might expect me to wed… Grima… You saw him. He was a vile man, even before he was twisted to Saruman's purposes. I felt betrayed – as though my uncle must hate me to keep Grima so near him when he saw how he looked at me." Eowyn shakes her head. "Forgive me. I have told nobody this – not even Faramir. He did not know my uncle. I would not have him believe…"

"I understand," Legolas says quietly.

"So, you see, I can guess how you must feel, wondering if Saeldur holds you responsible for his brother's death."

"Are you here to tell me he does not?"

"I do not know whether he does or not. I do not know him well enough to judge. Aeroniel and Rochendilwen think not. I am inclined to trust their opinion. But what I do see – perhaps nobody else here does, because everybody is too accustomed to it, and I come as a relative stranger – I see how he looks. Saeldur does not hate you. No more than my uncle hated me. Saeldur would do anything for you. I can see it in him."

Legolas sighs. "Yes. I know."

"My uncle did not live long after he was freed of Saruman's influence. I know that is unlikely to happen in this case, but… But I think Saeldur would consider it nearly as bad to know he has forfeited your trust."

Eryn Lasgalen, the Court of the Elven-king: Present

Saeldur leans through the doorway and looks around the room. Nearly everyone is in place, waiting, and no doubt wondering what Saeldur intends to say. Nobody need wonder about Arahael, he has made his position clear.

The archers have chosen to absent themselves from this, even Aeroniel and Rochendilwen. Eredhion and Voronwë are there, standing with the rest of the royal guard.

Saeldur straightens and glances at Arahael.

"It is remarkable," Arahael says reflectively, "I always thought it would come to this."

"You thought it would come to being tried for treason?"

"No. Not that. If it had gone as I planned and we had eliminated Legolas, there would have been no question of a trial. Thranduil would have been too distraught to think of anything. I thought it would come to us in the end… to you and me. And so it has… although not in the way I intended. Nobody has taken advantage of Thranduil's offered clemency to confess, or we would have been told."

Saeldur shrugs. "You must know their names, and evidently you do not intend to reveal them. What is the point of this conversation?"

"What is the point of betraying those who were my father's friends?" Arahael counters. "I doubt that will make my position any better. In truth, I do not know as many names as you think. My father did – my mother does – but my own knowledge is limited. After my father's death, my mother could not persuade anybody to… help. They did not see the need to avenge my father's death." Arahael's tone grows bitter. "I was surprised you did not, but now I know why."

Approaching footsteps make Arahael fall silent.

Bercalion enters the antechamber, gives Saeldur a curt nod, and draws Arahael aside to whisper to him urgently. From Arahael's mutinous expression, Bercalion must be urging him to stop making matters worse for himself and throw himself on the King's mercy.

Legolas comes a moment later. Alone. Evidently the King thinks Bercalion is capable of containing Arahael if he should try anything.

"Are you ready?" Legolas asks Saeldur quietly.

Saeldur nods. "I am not planning to say anything. I do not need to be ready for that."

"Saeldur…" Legolas hesitates. "It is your right to make what defence you can. If you are doing this for my sake…"

"No. I see no point saying anything, that is all. Do you think I care what the court thinks of me? Or even Lord Arbellason? What would I say, even if I wanted to say something? That I was trying to help you – and what Arahael said about Candnaur upset me – and…"

Saeldur trails off, forcing his mind to stay on the present instead of straying back to the battlefield.

"Saeldur." Something in Legolas' voice makes Saeldur look up at him sharply. "You have not told me everything."

"Who told you that?"

"Your mother did, but I am not a fool. I can see that you are holding something back. Do not worry. I do not intend to force your confidence. But… tell me if there are going to be any unpleasant surprises now."

"If there are," Saeldur says, "they will come as a surprise to me as well."

After a moment's pause, he takes Legolas' forearm and, with a glance up for permission, pushes back his sleeve. The wrist has healed completely.

Saeldur feels some of the tension ebb from his body, absurd as it is.

"You are alive," he says. "It could have been so much worse. Nothing the court does to me can be worse than… Every time I think of what might have happened…"

"I am perfectly well. I must go now. Ellaurë is waiting."

Bercalion waits for Legolas to leave before following him out.

Eryn Lasgalen, the Court of the Elven-king: Present

Having said it once, to Legolas, already, Saeldur does not feel nervous as he faces the court. It will be a relief to have this over. The long days have been torturous for all of them, with the possible exception of Arahael. Of course, Arahael has had to face the knowledge that Saeldur killed his father. Saeldur cannot regret his actions, but he is sorry to be the cause of such grief.

No matter. It will all be done soon. Once it is behind them, he can try to talk to Legolas.

At Ellaurë's signal, he gets to his feet.

"I have nothing to say. I will accept the verdict of the court and the judgement of the King."

Norgalad opens his mouth, but Ellaurë silences him with a gesture.

"That is Saeldur's statement. It is his right to make it, and unless you want to begin a pointless argument, Lord Norgalad, I do not see what questions you could have about it. Arahael seems to have a great deal to say, so I suggest you reserve your enthusiasm for him."

Norgalad looks put out, but he obeys.

"Saeldur, notwithstanding Lord Norgalad's eagerness for debate, this is your last opportunity to address the court on this subject. Are you certain you wish to say nothing?"

"Nothing, my lady."

"Very well. You may sit. Arahael, you may speak now. Please remember that you are addressing those who will decide whether you are guilty of treason… and those who will later decide what your fate will be. Any genuine repentance you are able to muster for the damage you have done might encourage leniency in your sentence. To the court," she adds, glancing at Norgalad and then turning to look very sternly at the members of the War Council, "I will only say that Arahael is to be allowed to finish speaking. Arahael, go on."

Arahael gets to his feet with deliberate movements that remind Saeldur of the mummers he has seen in Minas Tirith. Perhaps Arahael can join them, if he is exiled from Eryn Lasgalen.

"I could explain why my father thought it was necessary to… eliminate… Legolas," Arahael begins, managing an even tone that would sound sane if it were not for the content of his speech. "But I doubt anybody will appreciate my point of view. I intend, instead, to tell you what happened after my father died. To bear witness what I say, I will call on Saeldur, who, whatever he might feel about me now, will, I think, do me the courtesy of telling the truth."

Saeldur bites his lip. This will not be good.

"Lord Arbellason came to deliver the news to us – to my mother and me. I will not fault his manner. He has never been particularly fond of me, or of my parents, but he was very kind that day. If he was a little too assiduous in offering to provide an escort to my mother should she wish to carry her grief and her memories to the Blessed Realm to heal, and to take me with her… I cannot blame him."

Norgalad fidgets, but a quick glance from Ellaurë keeps him silent.

"Lord Arbellason was kind," Arahael goes on, "but he was not informative. All we were told was that my father had been killed while attempting to kill Legolas… He even suggested that we should be glad, because the act of murdering an Elf would have damaged my father's spirit. But Lord Arbellason would not tell us who was responsible for this act of charity. It has been pointed out to me that I am not the only one in the Woodland Realm who lost a family member. That is true. I now appeal to everyone who has lost a loved one to the fight against the Enemy. Think of how you would have felt if you had been told nothing. Think of whether or not you would have been content with such answers as we received."

The silence is absolute.

"My father's body was returned to us for burial. He had an arrow wound in his back. He had been shot from behind."

Saeldur winces. He had no choice and he knows it, but said like that…

"Perhaps there are those of the wise who would have let the matter rest, who would have sought no further information, who would have found healing and peace. But I could not do it." Arahael pauses and casts a distinctly malicious glance at Celephindeth. "Of course, some among us have had the luxury of bringing the matter before the council and forcing answers if they needed more information. I had not."

Celephindeth's cheeks are scarlet.

"May I call Saeldur, Lady Ellaurë?"

Ellaurë glances at Thranduil, who gives his consent with a nod.

Saeldur stands.

"I asked you, Saeldur, after my father died, if you knew who had killed him." It is not a question. "I was sure you would. Legolas tells you everything – at least, at the time, he did. I was surprised when you told me you did not know. Now I know that was a lie."

"Yes."

"You were there when your brother died," Arahael says. "You saw it happen. You saw his last breath."

And Saeldur is there again, on the battlefield, his stomach clenching with panic –

"I did not look," he manages to say, "I did not watch the arrow. But, yes, I was there."

"You were there, you saw everything – or at least as much as you chose to see – and still the very suggestion of some uncertainty as to the manner of his death was enough to unbalance you. Do you wonder, then, that I could not rest without knowing the truth? You have not made peace with Candnaur's death."

And through the chaos of blood and noise, a beam of sunlight is flashing on bright hair –

"Just mentioning it made you behave with what most here appear to consider unspeakable cruelty to your dearest friend. I do not think you would disagree with that assessment. Do you wonder, then, can anyone wonder, that I was willing to cause a little pain to an Elf I do not even particularly like, in order to learn the truth?"

"If murder is what you consider a little pain," Ellaurë says dryly, "there is nothing to discuss. Do you want to say anything else, Arahael?"

"Only this. I have no choice but to abide by the court's decision, but I leave it to each of you, and to your conscience, to ask what you would have done in my place. Forget that we are speaking about your beloved warrior-prince. Ask yourself what you would have done, if one you loved had been killed to protect someone undeserving – basely killed, shot in the back – and nobody would give you answers."

Eryn Lasgalen, the Stronghold of the Elven-king: Present

While the court is still debating, Thranduil summons a meeting of the War Council. It is unlikely their votes will make much difference to the outcome, and he wants to speak to them in private.

Although, this time, there are no orc incursions to fret about, no worries about the Shadow spreading through the southern reaches of the realm, expressions around the table are variously grim and worried as the Elves take their seats. Maeglad, seated at the end nearest the wine, pours cups and hands them down.

"I doubt we will have a decision from court before late tonight," Ellaurrë says, taking a sip of wine and twisting her mouth as though even Dorwinion tastes like vinegar today. "Nobody is in any doubt of what to do, but… I think they need to talk about it. No doubt they will say Míron's death could have been better handled."

"No doubt it could have been," says Thranduil. "We could, for instance, have arrested Amarthiel and Arahael immediately on suspicion of involvement and wrung the truth from them in the same manner they planned to wring it from Legolas."

"My king," Legolas murmurs in gentle reproach.

Thranduil has to smile. "It is no surprise that the court finds the situation difficult to handle. But I expect a resolution today. I do think we should not make anybody wait after that. This has taken enough time." He pauses to glance at Legolas, who looks calm. "Barring any surprises, we know what the court will rule. The question is what we are going to do about it."

"Do you have anything in mind?" asks Bercalion.

"I have given the matter some thought." Now it is a struggle for Thranduil to keep his voice even. "My instinct is to respond with the utmost severity, and not only because Arahael's treason and Saedur's stupidity threatened Legolas' life. Releasing Bregolien from captivity, though I absolve Saeldur of blame for that, is one of the most reckless acts I can imagine. It is fortunate – if anything can be considered fortunate in this disaster – that he went straight to Ithilien. He could quite easily have chosen to stay here and exact his revenge on any other Elves he considered responsible for his captivity."

"My king," Legolas remonstrates – he is the only one who would dare argue, however mildly, at a time like this. "We cannot punish anybody for what might have happened."

"Unfortunately, that is correct," says Thranduil. "I should add that nobody has, so far, taken advantage of my offered lenience to confess."

"Thranduil," Ellaurë says, "I think you overestimate the courage of the members of your court, if you think anybody would dare to come to you to confess involvement in a plot to murder your son, no matter how long ago it happened or how much clemency you promised."

"I think I have shown a great deal of restraint," Thranduil replies coolly. "Has Arahael not been allowed to waste the court's time in every manner of his choosing? As for Saeldur…" He pauses, because he does not have words to describe how angry he is with Saeldur. Legolas has faced enough danger in his life that he would not have been unduly troubled by Arahael's attempted assassination. "Fortunately," he manages, his tone clipped, "it will not fall to me to decide Saeldur's fate, or he might find that his punishment exceeded Arahael's."

"What do you plan to do with Arahael?" asks Thorontur.

Thranduil quirks another smile. "That, luckily, presents no problems. He and Amarthiel will be taken to Mithlond under armed guard. I will write to Círdan, who can be trusted to see them onto a ship. At the same time, I intend to suggest that any who wish to make the journey to Aman at this time can join them." He shrugs. "I think we can rely on the fact that if those who were involved in Míron's schemes still linger here, they will go. In truth I am not worried about that. I do not think any of them is a threat now."

The Elves around the table murmur their assent.

"That leaves the question of Saeldur," Thranduil goes on.

"I do not think he intended harm to Legolas," says Thorontur. "You only have to look at him to know he is telling the truth about that."

"I agree," says Arbellason. "He is not guilty of treason. In truth, I do not think he is guilty of anything that concerns the War Council. He has been stupid –"

"More than stupid," mutters Mídhaer. "But you are correct. Saeldur could argue that, since he now lives in Ithilien, he is no longer answerable to the War Council."

"I doubt he will argue anything of the sort," says Bercalion. "If the War Council chooses to pass a sentence, Saeldur will accept it."

"What sentence can we pass? We cannot send him forcibly to Aman – there is no justification for that," says Ellaurë. "We can send Arahael and Amarthiel away because neither of them has shown the slightest sign of repentance. It is quite clear that they would only make further attempts on Legolas' life if allowed to remain in Middle-earth."

"We can remove Saeldur from his responsibilities as far as Eryn Lasgalen is concerned," says Arbellason. "That is symbolic, but it will make no practical difference to him."

"I can, and will, write to Elessar. He might have a view about what to do, and he has the right, since Ithilien is a part of Gondor. But I do not doubt he will be swayed by Legolas' opinions on the subject." Thranduil pauses. "As, of course, I will be. If we are agreed that Saeldur is not guilty of treason, or of any other crime, then his failure in his duty is a matter for his commanding officer."

"What does his commanding officer think about that?" Mídhaer asks shrewdly.

Legolas gives a weary laugh. "I will not pretend I like it, but I knew it would come to this. I will speak to Saeldur once the court has announced its ruling. Is that going to be public?" he adds to Thranduil.

Thranduil shakes his head. "I considered it, but given the sensitivity of the situation, no. Norgalad and Istadir will come and tell me when a decision has been reached. Bercalion and I will speak to Arahael and Amarthiel. Legolas will speak to Saeldur, at least to begin with, though later I expect I will want to speak to him as well."

"Do not commit murder," Arbellason murmurs. "That is all we ask."

Eryn Lasgalen, the Stronghold of the Elven-king: Present

This is not the first time Saeldur has been summoned to Legolas' study. Usually it is for a private scolding when he has done something that even Legolas considers unduly reckless. While that is not pleasant, this is…

This is different.

This time, Saeldur knows, he has exceeded even Legolas' ability to forgive.

For the moment, at any rate.

That is the one thing that gives him courage. No matter what happens now, Arda will endure for a very long time. Nobody is capable of being angry forever, least of all Legolas.

Saeldur draws a deep breath and knocks. He opens the door without waiting for an answer.

Legolas is alone. That is almost worse. If Eredhion and Voronwë have been persuaded to let him speak to Saeldur by himself, it can mean nothing good.

Legolas gets to his feet and comes around to stand before his desk. The King prefers that those he is reprimanding stand and squirm while he glares at them, but that has never been Legolas' way.

"The War Council has discussed the matter of your sentence," Legolas says. Saeldur can tell he is fighting to keep his voice steady. "It will be announced tonight, after the court's decision but I wanted to tell you first. There are no grounds for insubordination. You have been found guilty of negligence of duty in failing to inform…" He trails off, and it is a long moment before he begins again. "You have committed no crimes. Arahael and his mother are being sent to Aman, under guard. You may accompany them, if you wish."

Saeldur waits.

"You cannot…" Legolas pauses. "You will agree, I think, that it is best for everyone if you do not continue to dwell in Ithilien. It is unfair to expect you to live under my command when you hold me responsible for your brother's death."

Saeldur was expecting it, but he still feels as though a Morgul blade has lodged itself in his gut.

"Is that Elessar's decision?" he manages to ask. He does not say again that he does not hold Legolas responsible for Candnaur's death; Legolas is unlikely to believe him, and Saeldur cannot blame him for that.

"He left the matter to me." Legolas ducks his head and turns to fiddle with some papers on his desk. "I… You should know… all these years… the battles – and the archers –" Legolas' voice is shaking now. "I could never have done it without you. I owe you my life – and more – everything. I will always – be grateful."

Legolas turns back. Anguished blue eyes meet Saeldur's. The last time Legolas looked so tormented was when he was telling Saeldur everything he remembered of the night Bregolien murdered the Queen.

This is as difficult for Legolas as it is for him.

Saeldur knows, knows with the bone-deep certainty of all their centuries of friendship, that he can seize this moment. He need not explain, or even apologize. He can remind Legolas of the whispered confidences of that night, and of everything else after. He has only to choose his words, and Legolas will feel he owes Saeldur anything he wants.

Saeldur will never deserve to have Legolas' trust again, if he manipulates him that fashion.

He forces himself to speak calmly.

"Am I permitted to remain in Eryn Lasgalen?"

"Yes… of course. The king wishes to speak to you… he will speak to you after the announcement in court. I expect he will tell you all about… everything else."

"Thank you." Saeldur takes a step forward. "I am so sorry, Legolas. I would never willingly let harm come to you."

Then, because his self-control is nearly at an end, he runs out.

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