Note: This is the second to last chapter people, I hope you all enjoy it. Props to the reviewers as always.

Part 12

"I must admit I am at a loss to what is going on here," Thranduil spoke once the girl down the street and from view.

"Then let me enlighten you, and everyone else here," Gimli replied. "For things are quite clear to me now. That," he pointing down the way the girl had run, "is the girl who accused Legolas of be-spellment and rape."

Finally being able to pin a face to the lie which had so devastated his son Thranduil's face turned stormy. To Gimli it looked a great deal like he was weighing the advantages and disadvantages of going after the girl himself and tearing her limb from limb, to staying put and listening to Gimli's explanation. When he did not leap away down the road the dwarf decided to continue.

"This," now he pointed to the corpse lying on the ground before them, "is what appears to be the father of her miscarried child and the catalyst behind her false claims against our elf."

At his proclamation the girl's father stepped forward incredulous. "Now wait just a moment! My daughter would never dishonor our family in such a way; the shame would be unbearable."

"Exactly!" Gimli exclaimed. "That is the very reason why your sons here, when they discovered their sister was dallying with the help, aided in her attempts to blame my friend. They even went so far as to provoke the rest of you into a frenzy, making sure your attention was focused on Legolas and not on the possible truth."

"Admar. Aden. Is this true?" the man turned and asked his sons, almost pleading with them to deny it.

"Father, you would take the word of this dwarf over your own children?" one of the young men said.

"I assume threatening the boy was no longer enough, you had to kill him to be certain he would not speak to us?" Gimli pressed on.

Casting a quick glance about them, and realizing the almost perceptible shift amongst the people surrounding them, the brothers straightened their backs and sneered.

"We were not the ones to accuse the elf. That was our sister's doing. If you wish to condemn someone let it be that little trollop!" Admar shouted.

A murmur of shock reverberated through the crowd.

"But it was you who insisted the elf be tied to the pole, to be buried in the field!" the justice announced, clearly appreciating the direction the wind was beginning to blow.

As the last word left the justice's mouth Thranduil acted. Not bothering to utter a word of recrimination he struck out before anyone could react, landing a solid blow to both Admar and Aden, sending them crashing to the ground. He stared down at them coolly as the two men shook themselves from their daze, one bleeding from a clearly broken nose, the other nursing a torn lip which had split spectacularly on his teeth.

What transpired next was so quick and entirely unexpected that few people present could give a completely accurate account after the fact.

When Thranduil's blow knocked him to the ground Aden happened to land on top of the king's discarded sword, surreptitiously grasping it in one hand. When Legolas' father turned his attention away from the fallen brothers to instruct his men to take them into custody Aden seized his chance. Leaping to his feet with a snarled curse on the heads of all elves, the man lunged forward with the intention of running the elven king through.

Unfortunately, the very lack of contact with folk of a difference race, elves specifically, which had allowed Aden and Admar to manipulate the town's emotions so well, was also his own undoing. Underestimating the strength and speed in which Thranduil would react to his movement Aden was entirely unprepared for the king to twist around and away from his lunge, a finely wrought dagger appearing in his hand from he knew not where. In one fluid movement the elf king allowed the man's momentum, and a good thrust of his own strong sword arm, to skewer the man soundly.

Aden doubled over the fist clenched about the hilt of the dagger, now flush with his abdomen, his own pilfered weapon sliding from suddenly nerveless fingers. All eyes were on the pair as Thranduil gave one good wrench of the blade for good measure before shoving the rapidly slackening body off and away from him. Aden fell back to the ground, his hands automatically moving to cover the large and bloody wound thrust under his ribs. His faltering gasps ceased a moment later, his pain taunt face going lax.

"That solves one problem at least," Faramir mused morbidly as he gawked at the tableau.

"But has created another," Gimli informed them. "Look," and he motioned to the spot where Admar had once been. "It seems his brother took advantage of such a wonderful distraction to escape."

Thranduil look about the square seeing no sign of the young man. He sighed. "This little revelation has complicated matters more, rather than simplifying them!"

"At least you managed to slay somebody," Gimli offered optimistically.

No one was amused.

"Quickly," the elven king instructed his troops. "Spread out and see if you can find this man. He can not have gotten far, and it is almost impossible to flee the town completely with our people surrounding the area."

Nodding briskly the majority of the elves in the square melted into the surrounding side streets and alleyways looking for signs of their prey.

"And what of the girl?" Faramir asked.

"I know not," Thranduil sighed again. "I needs speak to her before a decision is made, but I wager the death of her lover and a life of living as an outcast amongst her own people might be punishment enough."

"And the rest of the town?" the justice hedged nervously.

Before Thranduil could reply Faramir cleared his throat.

"May I make a suggestion?" he asked.

Wearied by the day's events Thranduil simply nodded his head, letting the man speak.

"The communities in Ithilien pay me a tithe on crops harvested in their fields. Would you be amicable to having this yield go to Legolas and his colony in my stead?"

"But that is hardly a punishment," Thranduil pointed out. "Nothing will have changed, only the recipient. I demand an extra ten percent as wergild!"

"We can not afford such a steep penalty," the justice interrupted distressed. "We would starve and there would be nothing left for market."

"The ten percent tithe as well as my word that I will smooth things over with Aragorn, augment my role in what has transpired and leave out some of the less flattering and unlawful actions by you and your people," Faramir countered. "I am sure your son would be grateful not to loose a dear friend."

Thranduil scoffed. "I hardly need you to protect me from Elessar. What's more, once your messenger arrives and alerts him of the situation it is a useless promise."

"Who said I sent a messenger?" Faramir grinned.

Thranduil was stunned. "Are you telling me you did not instruct your wife to send a messenger to Elessar the moment we were out of sight of your city? He is not on his way here this very moment?"

"That is what I am saying, yes."

"By Sauron's iron plated arse! You devil you!" Gimli guffawed.

Faramir looked sheepish. "I knew I would require some sort of leverage at some point and made the appropriate measures."

Thranduil narrowed cool eyes at the steward for a moment, contemplating, before putting his hand to his heard and bowing slightly.

Faramir grinned beatifically.

"Now," Thranduil said turning to and equally smug dwarf. "Let us see if we can not persuade my son to come out now that we are all glad and ready to break bread and drink wine in each others company."

The mockery was not at all lost of the dwarf.

Making their way back to the front doors of the hall Gimli gave the heavy wood a good pounding. "Open these doors, you daft elf," he yelled. "Your father and I wish to speak with you."

There was no response from within.

"Legolas, heart," Thranduil attempted. "Please let us in, the naugr…Gimli and I simply wish to help you."

"What if I do not wish your help," came the muffled reply. He must have been close to the doors, perhaps sitting leaned up against them, or standing with his forehead pressed to the cool wood.

"Say not such things," Thranduil pleaded. "The truth has come to light, there has been a resolution of sorts, surely you must have heard the commotion."

"I stopped my ears and heard nothing!" Legolas snapped back.

Shouldering the door quite firmly Gimli hollered with all his dwarven might. "Legolas open the damn door! Your father and I are collaborating for once; surely you wish to see it with your own eyes, for it is not likely to happen again in this age!"

There was a pregnant pause before the scraping of the brace was heard. Waiting a moment more Thranduil and Gimli tried the doors once again finding them unbarred and easily swung open. Quietly closing the door behind them the two made their way to Legolas' side, who was now sitting at the far end of the room at the justice's table and chair.

Taking in his son's forlorn expression Thranduil sank to his knees on the dusty floor and settled his head upon his child's knees, one arm snaking around the slim waist, the other around his shins.

"What news?" Legolas whispered, his hands automatically going to play in his father's pale tresses.

"The girl is found out and her real lover murdered by her own kin," Gimli explained gently.

"Ai, and I killed one of her treacherous brothers myself," Thranduil's voice filtered up from Legolas' lap. "The other fled in the confusion, but we will find him. The town will tithe to you as reparation, and Faramir has agreed to weave an alternate turn of events for Elessar's ears. You shall not be lacking in his friendship when all is said and done."

They waited in silence, the moments stretching longer than was possibly.

"I should be joyful, yet I am not," Legolas finally spoke. "I should not tremble at the sight of a town or fly into a rage when thwarted in a simple matter, yet I do. I should not attack innocent men, neither fall into meekness in their very presence, yet I have."

"You are weary," Gimli explained. "And been through a great trial, much of what you thought you knew set askew. Allow yourself time to grieve. You will see it will not always be so."

"Grieve?" Legolas asked. "Grieve for who?"

"Yourself."

"I sicken myself with this fear," Legolas asserted.

"Then you must face it," Thranduil suggested, lifting his head to look up at his son. "You have come this far, you have set foot in this village, now go one more step."

"You wish me to look the girl in the face, no blindfold between us," Legolas stated.

"With her brothers gone she is all that is left," Thranduil reasoned.

Before Legolas could reply there was a knock at the door. Gimli quickly shuffled over and stuck his head out to speak with whoever was on the other side. There was a hushed conversation before the dwarf shut the door and turned to face the two expectant elves, his face grim.

"I'm afraid there is no one left," he said. "The girl is dead. Strung herself up from the rafters of her home."

Thranduil rose to his feet clearly dismayed, Legolas following.

"Well then, if I am to overcome this there is only one other option open to me," the prince stated firmly. "I shall have to visit my grave."