Thank you for your patience! It's very much appreciated .

-S


- Chapter 71 -


Torchlight caused shadows to flicker on the walls of his study. The goblets of wine poured earlier were seemingly forgotten amongst the three friends as they sat around the roaring fireplace. The heat of the flames eased the cold dampness of the room they sat in, and though they were silent, Legolas knew each of them were mulling over the information they were just given.

A brief meeting with his father confirmed absolutely nothing, and he knew no more now than he had before the feast even began though he was skeptical that his father knew more than he was telling. It was maddening, not knowing, but several of the king's spies had yet to report back. Perhaps by morning...

"It is just as you feared," Sidhel said quietly after a great length of silence. "She is in danger."

Legolas ran his thumb up the steam of the goblet that sat perched on the armrest of his chair between his fingers. He stared into the flickering flames and nodded slowly.

"Aye," he said sullenly. "I only wish I had acted upon it sooner."

"It is unfortunate, but not something you should damn yourself over. We all felt something was wrong," Sidhel said.

"Why simply stop the letters? Why do something so simple?" asked Nodron. Legolas raised his chin and he narrowed his eyes at his friend. How was any of this simple? "If they wanted to hurt her, why would they not physically go and do so? Why go through the trouble of attempting to break the two of you up by stopping the letters? What was the point?"

Legolas chewed on his words quietly. What was the point?

"To end the both of you."

Nodron and Legolas turned to Sidhel. End the both of them? No, that was not the conclusion they'd come up with earlier. Shyloh was the one in danger, she was the one that needed the protection, not him. She was the one that had been heartbroken and hurt the most.

"Perhaps..." Sidhel's voice trailed off, but no one else spoke while the guard pondered the best way to say what was on his mind. Legolas' breathing slowed while he waited with baited breath. Perhaps what? "Perhaps it was a test."

He blinked. He prayed his friend had a better conclusion than that.

Sidhel jabbed a finger in the air, pointing it at nothing in particular while more thoughts unraveled in his head. "Perhaps they were testing the bond itself, not attempting to break you up."

Nodron's brow furrowed, clearly not impressed with this suggestion. "I am afraid I do not follow your trail of thought mellon nin."

Sidhel leapt to his feet and began pacing in front of the fireplace. Legolas watched him quietly.

"What if this stems deeper than just the bond between the two of you? What if this extends to the entire Woodland Realm itself?" Sidhel said aloud, his arms folded across his chest, one hand rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

"I am afraid I am going to have to side with Nodron on this one, Sidhel, because I do not follow you either."

Sidhel spun on his heel and planted his feet apart, facing the two of them. "If Shyloh fades from grief, thinking she lost you, then surely you would follow, would you not? The bond you two share is strong; you bonded at first sight after all. That is the strongest form of connection there is. Perhaps they are hoping the two of you would both fade."

"If Shyloh faded, would Legolas not simply sail for Valinor then?" asked Nodron.

But, the long stretch of silence that followed his question only made alarm slowly appear in the eyes of Legolas' two friends. The answer to that question was now suddenly very obvious, and very wrong. He'd never given fading a thought before, not once in all his long years, but the answer was so simple and easy that it was alarming and damning at the same time.

No, he would not – could not – sail to the Undying Lands if she faded. Nor would he be able to exist in this world if that happened. Sail to the Undying Lands knowing he would never be reunited with her? It wasn't even something he had to think about.

No.

She was the key to his soul. She was the key to unlocking the suppressing feeling he'd been suffering for years. Between duty and the sadness of his own kin and the constant darkness that crept closer and closer to their front doors, Legolas never realized just how much he'd buried his sorrow away over the course of his life, how much he'd had to bare on his shoulders. Like his father. Except, Thranduil suffered the weight of the kingdom's fate alone for all these long years.

If Thranduil sailed, there was the chance he would be reunited with his lost wife, the one who made him whole. If he faded, they would be lost to each other forever. The fact that the fate of the kingdom was his responsibility and the fact that he had a son, were probably the only true reasons the king had not yet sailed for the Undying lands. Perhaps he was so certain of being reunited with his beloved one way or another – whether by sailing or through death – that he'd allowed these long years to pass by. His wife was safe under the watchful eyes of Eru, so perhaps that was the peaceful thought itself that allowed the king to continue his duty until the sea or death called him elsewhere.

It was a humbling thought, knowing his mother was safe. Despite missing her presence, he believed in what awaited his kin across the sea. It was slowly calling to all of the elves, and perhaps there would be a day no more of the Eldar walked these lands. But sailing to Valinor without Shyloh? It was not an option.

Whether they were married like Lord Elrond's vision said they'd be or not, Legolas knew the white haired Princess had already captured his soul. Even if they did not marry and she turned away from him, there would be no one else for him. That moment in the woods not so long ago when he first laid eyes upon her had changed him completely, and until Nodron and Sidhel found their own partners in life they would not understand. As it stood, he cared deeply for her and perhaps one day love would come.

"You cannot think such things Legolas," Nodron hissed. He leaned forward in his chair, eyes pinched with a desperate concern.

"If she was killed, she would go to the halls of Mandos," Legolas said quietly, not wishing to despair. "We could be reunited once I sailed or death claimed me. But if she faded, I-"

"You do not know what you speak of," Nodron interrupted. "She would not simply fade from missed letters."

"She could fade without even realizing it," Legolas snapped. He stood suddenly and Nodron pressed himself back into his chair. "She has already lost more than anyone. First her birth parents, then her adopted family, the only world she ever knew. Grief can dig itself into the very pits of our souls, and she has already suffered much. She feels our bond so strongly, even more than myself, but it is overwhelming for her and she has a hard time processing it. Perhaps Sidhel is right, Shyloh is not the only one to be concerned about. My family and the fate of this kingdom is. Whomever is behind this, wishes to do away with us all."

Sidhel rested his hands against the back of his empty chair and leaned against it. His eyes fixated on Legolas.

"If you faded, it would break your father," Sidhel said, confirming the obvious out loud. "He would sail or succumb to his grief. You know this."

"If that happened, the kingdom would be at risk," Nodron said, his eyes falling to Sidhel. "Lord Erist would be next in line to ascend the throne. Your father."

Sidhel's eyes narrowed. "My father has no desire to be king, nor do I. If that is where your thoughts are leading too, I pray to Eru that you are not suggesting he is the one behind this."

Nodron crossed one leg over the other and laced his fingers together over his middle. "Your father would be the only one to benefit from the loss of the royal family."

Sidhel straightened his spine and glared at his friend. "I did not know you thought so little of my family, mellon nin."

"Erist has never desired the throne," Legolas said quickly, before his friends could continue on their destructive collision course. "He is one of my father's greatest supporters and confidants. I think, Nodron, you are forgetting who would be next in line if Erist and Sidhel were removed from the playing board s well."

Nodron's eyes darted to Legolas, and Sidhel stilled completely. No, it was clear the two guards had not thought that far ahead. There was only one person that would come next in line after Sidhel. Since Sidhel was neither married nor had children of his own and did not have any younger siblings, if he were removed from the line of ascension, the throne would be passed down to the next family, the one that oftentimes hid in the shadows, whose lineage had been cast aside when King Oropher made the decree oh so long ago. The one who had pressed for a marriage between the Prince and another so forcefully.

"It would be a lot of people to be rid of," Nodron said after a pause. "First the royal family, then Sidhel's family as well. Would it not be obvious what was happening?"

"Never underestimate the power of greed," Legolas muttered and the others fell silent. He drew in a slow, deep breath. Things were starting to come to light.


If she thought she was uncomfortable last night, it was nothing compared to this moment right now. Sitting around the circle of ellith was not exactly what she really desired to do. Her fingers trailed over her lips countless times that morning, and the heat that plagued her all night after she and Legolas said goodnight to each other only caused her to have a fitful sleep. Of course, their 'goodnight departure' wasn't so simple, and ended up with them making out once more outside her door for Eru knows how long.

Damn him and his sensual kisses.

She'd had a fitful sleep and she cursed him once more when she'd sought out the link that bound the two of them and found his end to be guarded once more.

Well fine, two could play that game. She knew he'd gone to meet with Sidhel and Nodron afterward, so perhaps that was the reason behind his sudden blockade, but there was no way she was going to let him know just how much he'd affected her.

She forced herself to lift the cup of tea to her lips and sip at the hot liquid before anyone could tell just where her mind was at this morning. Arossel only gave her a knowing wink and smile when she helped get Shyloh ready that morning, as if the maid knew all about what happened between the two of them last night.

Shyloh couldn't help the blush that crept up her cheeks just then, so she ducked her head and reached down to adjust her skirt that didn't really need adjusting whatsoever until the moment passed and she could smooth out her facial expression once more. None of the other ladies seemed to notice nor had anyone said anything about her sudden need to fix her already perfect skirts since Lady Osbeth was still pouring the tea and passing it around to their small group.

"I was worried you would not want to join us, Princess," Lady Osbeth said as she finally took her place on Shyloh's right. "I did not expect to invite you so soon after the feast and planned to give you a few more days to settle in before planning anything."

"I am glad you invited me," Shyloh said. "Otherwise I am afraid I would have spent the day alone." That wasn't exactly true, she'd planned on cornering Arossel and begging her to stay with her.

"Yes, it was a shame Ernil Legolas was called out so abruptly," Osbeth said with genuine sadness. "Had Nedion not mentioned his departure, I would have felt terrible leaving you alone in the royal wing. I will not deny, a very tiny part of me is glad you were available to join us. I rather enjoyed talking with you last night, though it is selfish of me to say so, considering where our Prince has had to run off too."

Shyloh's stomach clenched. Spiders invading the borders and signs of orcs were issues that needed to be dealt with promptly and she couldn't fault him for having to leave, though she'd selfishly wished he'd stayed. Being alone in the grand halls of the Woodland Realm with no friends save one elleth – with everything that was going on right now – was nerve wracking. Especially since none other than Lady Lastril was seated directly across from her at this very moment, and especially since her dark eyes seemed so cold and hard.

Shyloh wasn't as alone as she thought she'd be though, standing only feet behind her was Arossel, the one person aside from Legolas and possibly King Thranduil that made her feel at ease. Never in a million years did she ever think she'd mark King Thranduil as a person she'd ever feel comfortable around, but he was. The cool look Lady Lastril just passed her from over her own teacup was not lost on Shyloh whatsoever. The only thing that would have made this morning's tea party somewhat better was if the elleth hadn't come at all.

Unfortunately, Shyloh was certain Lastril wouldn't willingly miss out on the perfect opportunity to know everything that was going on and that's what worried Shyloh the most. She knew the elleth didn't like her very much, but was she possibly still upset that her pending betrothal to Legolas had been squandered?

Yes.

Without a doubt the answer was clearly yes.

"I have been dying to hear all about Lothlorien," Norien sighed. "Ever since last night it has been all I could think about. Is it truly as remarkable as the stories say?"

Shyloh felt her face flush from the attention that all the ladies were now giving her, as if they'd waited anxiously all night to hear more about their kin to the South. So, for the next hour or so, Shyloh answered their questions as best as possible and aside from the ever silent Lastril, she felt herself grow less tense and more relaxed. Their questions seemed genuine, their interest in what she said seemed honest, and their questions were often overlapped with anothers curiosity.

All the while Lastril remained quiet and stoic in her seat, her eyes drifting between her tea cup and Shyloh but never to any of the other ellith in the room. Her presence was intimidating and practically ignored by the other ladies and Shyloh wondered why that was. Aside from one other elleth, the others seemed overjoyed that Shyloh was entertaining them by answering their questions and telling them stories about both Lothlorien and Rivendell, and she was told countless times how lucky she was to have the opportunity to travel like she has.

Of course, the dwarves were never mentioned and Shyloh was worried if she brought them up it would kill the mood and Lastril would use that to her advantage and ruin the day. Shyloh didn't know the she-elf very well, but after the way she'd treated by her in Dale after the battle she had no doubt Lastril could be capable of everything.

Legolas refused to tell her too much about what was going on and whether or not the King had found anything worthy of taking action over, and it was eating Shyloh alive. She'd tried questioning him this morning when he'd knocked on her door to inform her of his abrupt departure. At least he'd taken a moment to kiss her and let her know he had to leave, but that he'd assigned a guard to watch over her. That guard came in the form of Arossel.

Other ladies had servers with them as well, so Shyloh didn't feel completely awkward by having someone hover behind her. Standing behind Lastril attempting to not look interested was her maid. Shyloh thought her name was Farril but she couldn't remember correctly. She stood with her hands clasped together and head bowed, but her eyes constantly flickered to Shyloh as she spoke, oftentimes filling with excitement or wonder while she silently listened to the conversation.

Shyloh desperately wanted to ask the other ladies questions but despite her attempts to change the subject and divert the attention away from herself, the others refused to let the conversation stray. She wasn't going to kid herself, after her last stay in the Woodland Realm Shyloh felt very, very, cautious about thinking these ladies were genuine and good, but they laughed and seemed overly jovial, making her smile and laugh. Aside from Lastril and the other silent elleth that sat next to her, all were equally engaged in the conversation but none more than Lady Osbeth.

She seemed bound and determined to keep the conversation soley on Shyloh and brushed aside any questions Shyloh pointed at her about her wedding a few years ago, claiming she'd be happy to tell her during another get together. She listened eagerly and attentively, but it wasn't lost on Shyloh the smug look she occasionally threw to a certain someone across their small circle.


Lady Osbeth

Life was oftentimes cruel.

Sipping the hot tea, she was completely enamored by the tales the Princess has been telling, and as Osbeth expected, the other ladies of their small group were already entwined around her slim fingers. She is a thing of raw beauty though Osbeth could sense she does not harness that knowledge to her advantage. She is ill equipped to be the future of the Woodland Realm but she is also young yet from what she can sense. The Princess speaks very plainly and direct, as if she were lacking the ability to draw herself into detailing the smallest things.

She speaks passionately about certain bits and then not so much about others, telling her she has digested a lot of time into her training, a feat that is certainly commendable, however, her hands fidget in her lap as if she is scared or nervous. Osbeth can sense both emotions radiating off of her slight frame and it makes her curious as to why that would be. A trained warrior should exhibit more confidence in themselves, should they not?

Rumor has it she was ill treated during her last visit to these grand halls, an unfortunate circumstance most definitely but Osbeth longed to change that.

Her eyes flickered across the small circle of females again, unable to help the smug smile that lifted the corners of her mouth once more. She was not normally a wicked elf, however, the satisfaction it brought Osbeth to have the Princess here within these halls once more was constantly growing. She would host all of the tea parties and more if it meant watching Lastril suffer.

She cared little for the Princess in general, not knowing her well enough to stake a claim and call her a friend, but perhaps that would change over the course of time. Osbeth trusted very few but surely there could be friendship found on common ground between the two of them if it meant watching Lastril deteriorate.

Oh, yes, surely it would be worth befriending the strange, white haired she-elf, if only for a front row seat. The Prince deserved someone good and kind, and while she was happy he had found his bonded, Osbeth worried the Princess lacked the spine needed to set those beneath her in their rightful place.

She sank back into her chair and sipped her tea. Yes, this might just all be worth it. Revenge was sweet but self destruction ousted everything else. Lastril was going to burn.