This was absolutely the final straw. It had to be; how much more could Cirion be expected to endure? He'd already suffered through disappointment, insult, and utter disgrace – not to mention the terrible strain of being forced to move his family out of their ancestral home – with as much restraint as he could muster. Well, no more of that! Word had just reached him that Nienor, his only child and hope for the family's further advancement in society, had been arrested for attempting to kill Prince Legolas and his child.

Cirion growled under his breath as he silently recounted the details told to him by the messenger – or rather, the truth hidden by the prince's lies. The messenger had claimed that she was in good condition, well treated by the healers after Prince Legolas and some interfering dwarf had been forced to physically subdue her. Hah! What that meant was that Nienor had been brutalized by the elf and the latest dwarf he'd taken a mind to enthrall; knocked unconscious and received only the minimal efforts at the Houses of Healing before being locked away in the dungeons like some commoner.

What had happened to her – and by extension of familial connections, to him – was even more difficult to bear when he thought of the reasons of why it happened. It couldn't be more obvious, as far as he was concerned: Prince Legolas was jealous of his daughter, for she possessed the grace, charm, and refinement of a proper spouse while he could never be anything more than a trollop with a royal title. The knowledge of this gnawed constantly at the elf, boiling over when he came upon her in the garden that was supposed to be for everyone but was really only his. In his rage he'd accused Nienor of those undignified crimes and King Elessar, being King Elessar, had believed him without question. 'What that so-called prince did not count on,' thought Cirion with furious satisfaction, 'was the fact that I will no longer just sit back and accept whatever his vengeful mind has in store for me!'

He was intent on confronting the royal couple, once and for all revealing Prince Legolas' manipulations in such excruciating details that not even the king could deny them any longer. Several guards were spread across the courtyard of the citadel, warily watching him run up to the entrance. Upon coming to the door that led inside, however, he found that it was barred against him. One lone guard stood firmly in his way, hands gripping his sword and a stern expression on his face. "You may not enter," the guard informed Cirion, his clipped and grave tone making it clear that he would not compromise on the matter.

"I am a lord of Gondor," replied Cirion testily as his anger level rose to new heights. Denied entrance, as if he were an Easterling or Haradrim – why, even the commoners of Gondor were allowed to walk inside the building! "My citizenship of Gondor is enough to give me access to the citadel; those with such a title as 'lord' are allowed to walk about inside at will, excepting the parts that the royal couple claim as their private quarters. The rule of Gondor depends on people of high blood continuing to have that liberty."

"It is my understanding that you have nothing to do with the rule of Gondor now, and even your citizenship of our realm is debatable," said the unmoved guard. "And I doubt that you wish to enter with the purpose of seeing it one last time before your exile begins. The only business you have, then, would be discussing your daughter with the king and the prince. On my life, that's not going to happen today; the lady's put them through enough already. If I had any say in the matter, she'd have been strung up on the spot for all of her treachery."

"Do not speak of her in such a manner," bristled Cirion threateningly. How dare a Man with no noble blood to speak of pass judgment on a noblewoman such as Nienor? "I need to see them at once in order to ensure that all of this inflammatory, ridiculous gossip about my daughter cease immediately. Then I will be willing to listen to that elf grovel for her forgiveness – and mine."

The guard's eyes narrowed as he squared his shoulders and planted his feet. "You don't have permission to pass," he hissed forcefully. "Now that you've insulted my prince so blatantly I feel justified in swearing that I will break both of your legs before I let you so much as catch a glimpse of him!"

Cirion chuckled darkly. "You too?" he sneered. "Are you in love with him from afar, or are you one of the potential sires to that spawn growing in his stomach?"

"I love the prince as I love the king and the realm," responded the guard through gritted teeth, slowly drawing his sword. "If you had one notion of what that is like you wouldn't be exiled and your daughter wouldn't be a murderous little wench. Now get out of here before I lose all control and run you through."

"Run me through? I doubt you possess the nerve."

"Stop this at once!" ordered another guard, Beren, as he threw himself between his colleague and the lord. "Would you draw blood in the courtyard of the citadel for nothing more than the insults of someone that all know to be bitter and untruthful?" he scolded the guard before turning to Cirion. "And you, my lord; it would probably be best for everyone if you waited to obtain an audience with the king and prince until –"

"When? Until when?" challenged Cirion. "I am leaving Gondor for good in less than a week; will I be forced to leave my daughter behind to rot? I refuse to allow that to happen!"

"And we cannot let you come inside," countered Beren.

They were getting nowhere and every moment wasted debating with those beneath him was another moment that Nienor had to spend in that dank cell. "If you insisted on being so thick-headedly stubborn," said Cirion, implicitly offering the two Men one final chance to be reasonable and cooperate with him. When no sympathy or leniency came to either one of their faces or body language, the lord glowered and raised his voice to a yell: "Then I will shout to anyone who can hear me about this grave injustice! My daughter has been falsely accused without evidence and now the royal couple will not answer for it!"

"You might as well lower your voice," scoffed the guard in disgust. "Everyone already knows what the lady did and that every word that passes through your mouth is nothing but a noxious fume. For the sake of the Valar, have a little dignity!"

"How can I when I have been stripped of all of it?" shouted Cirion in response. "All by an elf who sees me as a threat and a king who only knows to do whatever the elf tells him to do. Once the prince had chipped away all that made me great he turned his malice onto my innocent child, and someone is going to listen to me!"

"All right; just be quiet!" snapped Beren with a deadly glare.

The other guard let out an outraged gasp. "Have you lost all of your senses?" he demanded indignantly. "That man is not to step one foot inside the citadel!"

"I swear on the lives of my family and the glory of Gondor that he won't," Beren told him. "Yet leaving him to run amuck in the streets won't do either, and the blood of one Gondorian should never be spilled by another. The only thing left to do is for you to go to the king. Tell him that Lord Cirion is creating a commotion in the courtyard demanding to see him about the lady, and ask him for what he thinks is an appropriate response."

"I would rather stay here while someone else does that," replied the guard sullenly, casting an evil stare at Cirion.

"He won't get inside the citadel," reiterated Beren firmly. "And if he does, he'll have to pass by you before getting to King Elessar and Prince Legolas. If you see him in there, I will be dead and you'll have all the proof you need that he's a murdering traitor. Then you can run him through."

Cirion scowled at the guard as he gave him one last warning look before reluctantly sprinting off. It was best not to dwell on him, though; the other guard that was taking up his position in front of the door showed some signs of reason. Perhaps he could talk him into letting him pass. "While I admire your commitment, however misplaced, I must point out that I am not some commoner, here to beg at the king's door for his judgment on the ownership of livestock," he said, sounding affronted and (he hoped) persuasive at the same time. "You could at least all me to accompany that…guard while he delivers the message."

"Are you kidding me?" the guard's voice rose to an incredulous squeak. "Are you aware of all of the stupid moves that some of the other guards have done while guarding the king or the prince, or both? One of those geniuses turned away the Lords Elladan and Elrohir when they had news about Prince Legolas' pregnancy, only to be intimidated into letting King Thranduil into them a few minutes later. He also didn't inform them when King Eomer and the Rohirrim arrived – causing them, especially the king,great embarrassment – and even burst in on them at an inappropriate time. Two others tried to hinder the hobbits from entering into an advisors' council meeting when Master Brandybuck had discovered an important hint about the poisoner's identity. Not to mention those four fools who left Prince Legolas alone just now to fight off a crazy person when he's almost eight months pregnant. No, Lord Cirion," he concluded, crossing his arms. "No one's getting past me without the king's expressed or understood permission."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

While the guards grappled with Cirion outside, things weren't any more peaceful inside the royal bedchamber. "Would you at least consider lying down for the rest of the afternoon?" Aragorn asked Legolas with more than a hint of a plea in his tone. "What harm would be done by giving yourself a little time to recover?"

"I'm sorry if I don't see getting a scratch a sufficient reason for lazing about," retorted Legolas irritably. Intellectually he knew that Aragorn was just feeling helpless, coping with that the only way he knew how by trying to take care of him. The less generous part of him was annoyed to no end. "Ioreth determined that I was fine – something you could have just trusted my word on without hassling her – and Sam's made me an excellent lunch, which I finished. There is no reason why I would benefit from doing nothing for the rest of the day. That's what I've been doing all week and it's driving me insane."

Sitting anxiously in a nearby chair, Thranduil cleared his throat to draw the squabbling couple's attention. "I must agree with Aragorn," he said. He couldn't blame them for looking astonished; though they had come a long way from the time when Aragorn blabbered nervously whenever he was around, the elven king himself was still somewhat surprised by what he'd just proclaimed. "It is not the physical trauma that you need to be concerned about, Little Greenleaf. This whole affair has been an emotionally taxing experience and you have been enduring it for over a week. Do not push yourself to recover before you are ready."

Fantastic; now he had to battle this point out on two fronts. Legolas frowned stubbornly. "I'm fine! Stop treating me like some fragile –"

A sharp knock on the door interrupted his tirade; which was probably a good thing since nothing he could say would have convinced them to concede. He would've only grown more hostile and irate until he said something that would have felt extremely gratifying now and he'd end up regretting later. Aragorn, for one, was grateful for a reason not to continue with the debate. "Enter!" the king called.

The door creaked open and one of the guards appeared. "I apologize for intruding, King Elessar, Prince Legolas," he began with a bow, offering an obligatory nod in Thranduil and Gimli's direction as well. "There is a situation in the courtyard – not one that requires your personal attention, but we do request that you order us in what we should do about it."

"What kind of situation?" demanded Aragorn, annoyed that the duties that went along with being a ruler might once again drag him away from his husband. He tried to think of all the different scenarios that would compel a guard to disturb them in the first place. It most likely didn't have anything to do with the advisors, as he'd sent out a brief message to them stating that Legolas' would-be assassin had been captured and that they'd meet the next day before lunch to discuss what was going to happen next. Word undoubtedly had spread quickly about Nienor's arrest but he couldn't believe that any large number of Gondor's citizenry would be expecting details this soon, let alone be gathering in the courtyard to demand them. The foreign dignitaries might want apologies for being placed under suspicion – which he would be happy to offer – but all of them were seasoned politicians and knew better than to bother him about it now. That would leave…. "It's Lord Cirion, isn't it?"

The guard had to stop himself from spitting at the sound of his name. "He just showed up, demanding to talk to you and the prince about the lady like he was the most important thing in all the lands," he reported. "Said some other stuff too that was really awful. When we refused to let him in he started yelling, telling us that he was going to create a scene until he was allowed to see you."

"What an appropriate response – for an ill-mannered toddler," muttered Gimli.

"He's going to want to know all of what happened," added Legolas thoughtfully.

"Well, I am not available to see anyone today, especially not him," declared Aragorn with absolutely no sympathy in his voice. "If he wants answers about his loved-one's well being, let him wait for a week like I had to."

Legolas bit his lower lip, debating if he should speak up and open another can of worms or else play it safe and keep his thoughts to himself. The debate lasted all of a second – he was never very good at not expressing his opinions. "My love? May I have a private word with you?" he requested, sitting down at the foot of the bed. Aragorn nodded his consent and walked over, taking his place next to him. "Don't dismiss him so completely."

"Who? Cirion?" Aragorn was bewildered. "I know you're feeling better than anyone that heard me carrying on would believe, but do you really think that we should have to put up with his bile right now?"

"No," Legolas told him, glancing over at the waiting guard before looking his husband squarely in the eyes. "I think that you should let Lord Cirion see Lady Nienor."

This was ridiculous – why was Legolas going out of his way to act as an advocate for the very people who'd done everything in their power to destroy their lives on numerous occasions? "You can't be serious," breathed Aragorn slowly.

Legolas held his forehead in one hand. "Please, Aragorn; don't ask me to get into all of this with the guard needing your response," he pleaded, feeling a little worn out all of the sudden. "Just trust my judgment and do this for me, all right? I'll even rest like you want me to – for an hour."

"I don't want to blackmail you into lying down," replied Aragorn dubiously, growing really concerned. Letting himself be treated so protectively was a real blow to Legolas' pride; that he would agree to do it for Cirion and Nienor's sake baffled Aragorn.

"Mela, you should know me well enough to realize that this is the only it's going to happen," was Legolas' cheeky reply.

Aragorn still wasn't sure. "Legolas…"

"For me," repeated the elf. "Please."

"As you wish," Aragorn finally gave in. With one last long look at his husband, the Man rose and addressed the guard: "We will not see Lord Cirion now, but I order you to escort him to his daughter's cell. Do not, under any circumstances, leave them alone –"

"Privacy," Legolas whispered loudly to him.

" – but you don't need to be standing right next to them the entire time either," amended Aragorn tensely. Making all of these allowances for two of his least favorite people really irked him. He would do it for Legolas, of course, but he didn't have to like it. "And if Lord Cirion is dissatisfied with that, well, still take him to his daughter's cell; just put him into the one next to it."

"Yes, your majesty," said the guard, hoping that the lord complained about the king's ruling. One little word and he would be allowed to lock him up. With that happy thought bouncing through his mind, the guard bowed low and left.

Gimli and Thranduil had shared a startled look when they'd heard Legolas speak up on behalf of Cirion and Nienor. It was quite a feat that the dwarf had been able to hold his tongue until the guard was gone. "Privacy?" he repeated, staring at Legolas as if he'd suddenly grown two heads. "They'd only use it to scheme how they would take you down once and for all. What's gotten into you, laddie?"

"It's hard to explain –"

"Try," his father urged.

"Yes, please do," concurred Aragorn grimly. "I just ordered a guard that is supposed to be protecting us to give the person who tried to kill you and the Man who slandered you their space to talk in secret. I don't understand how you could want that, mela. How could you care about either one of them?"

"It's not exactly like that," protested Legolas as he felt attacked on all sides. "In the garden today – while I was waiting for a distraction – I know she should – and I'm not saying – oh" – Legolas fisted his hands in frustration. There was no way that he could put this that would make them understand now, so all he could do was be blunt. "I feel sorry for her."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That elf had done it again. Cirion stewed in his anger for the entire walk to the dungeons, down into the bowels where his daughter was being held. The ever-compassionate Prince Legolas had lied to put Nienor behind bars and then made a production of showing the guard that it was only by his mercy that the lord was allowed to see her. Putting up with the guard's endless prattling about how generous the prince was to those who didn't deserve to be the dirt under his boot had been a trial, but he could somewhat let go of that when he finally caught sight of his daughter in her cell.

"Father!" she exclaimed in surprise when she noticed his presence, jumping up and grasping the bars.

"Greetings, Nienor," Cirion returned gravely before glaring at the guard. The insufferable Man glared back, but backed away nonetheless.

When he was a sufficient distance away, Cirion stepped forward and placed his hands over hers. "This is so awful," she lamented. "What I have gone through; you must believe that this is not my fault."

"There is no need for that, my dear," said Cirion. "I know that this is the prince's doing."

"He has taken so much from me," she sniveled as her lips quivered.

"I know," soothed Cirion. He caressed her wrists with his fingers and jumped a little when she let out a quiet yelp. Upon examining them closer, he was horrified to see a prominent bruise around one of them. "What happened here?"

"Prince Legolas grabbed me."

So the jealous creature had attacked his innocent daughter and then accused her of those heinous crimes to cover it up! "I am not surprised," he told her fiercely. "This behavior is typical of any uncouth lover envious of a demure wife!"

She nodded vigorously. "He would have pried the knife out of my hands in the next second had I not been rendered unconscious."

"Well, I will not – what?" Cirion's blood ran cold when he realized what she'd just admitted.

"That is right," she stated emphatically, oblivious to her father's horrified expression. "I went there to kill him and his half-breed spawn and he refused to cooperate, just like before."

"Before…when you poisoned him?"

"Yes."

Cirion was aghast. "Oh Nienor, why?"

"So that I could get my husband back," declared Nienor with all righteousness. That she'd done anything wrong had never once occurred to her. "You always said that I would marry Gondor's most powerful man and you are always true to your word. It was that elf's fault that I was denied my birthright. I did not want to do anything so unladylike but it was the only way that I could make everything be as it should be again. I miss having you as a father."

"I – I – do not understand," stammered Cirion, his mind reeling. "How have I ceased being your father?"

"You are the father of the future wife of Gondor's most powerful man," she reminded him. There was no blame in her tone; for Nienor had long ago accepted this as fact. "Not mine; never Nienor's father. But once Prince Legolas and his baby were gone, I was supposed to have the chance to be queen again. I only want to make you happy, Father."

A million things rushed through Cirion's mind at that moment. The way he'd interacted with the king, the prince, and the advisors danced along the outsides of his memory, but mostly he thought of the time he spent with Nienor as a child: teaching her to remain quiet and demure around men of power, telling her what the right words for a wife to say to a husband, showing her all of the manners and mannerisms of a proper wife. By the Valar, had he ever spent any time with her that didn't involve her perfect-spouse "training"? Through all of that, one devastating thought slammed forward, almost bringing him to his knees:

'What have I done?'

To be continued…

A/N: Over 500 reviews! Thanks so much; I'm completely blown away.