A few readers have been appealing for a certain something to happen, and it does in this chapter. Obviously, I'm not going to say what because that would spoil the plot twist.
For you fans who like angst, a bit of a scene between Legolas and Thranduil.
Beta reader: Dragonfly the Undeterred.
For their encouragement, thanks to Dragonfly and Slivertongue.
Chapter 23: The Enemy Within
Before Gilglîr had left at the head of the relief column, he took care to warn Thranduil not to say anything precipitous to Legolas.
"Thranduil, you may be tempted to say something along the lines of 'I told you so'. I beg you to restrain yourself. You will not be helping matters. Moreover, although you will of course wish to take steps to safeguard your son, do nothing hasty or rash."
"Nothing hasty or rash!" said Thranduil angrily. "Someone tried to slay my son—may still try to slay my son—and you beg me to be neither hasty nor rash. Pray, what am I permitted to do—fling open the doors of the Great Hall and shout, 'Here is my son! Come riddle him with arrows!'?"
"Don't be silly, Thranduil," replied Gilglîr, unperturbed by the King's outburst. "For the next several days, Legolas should mainly keep to his chamber, with a guard of your most reliable warriors on duty before his door at all times. He should not leave the Hall for the time being, and when he moves about the Hall, he should be escorted. Moreover, Edwen Nana should choose and prepare his foods. But do not confine him to his room altogether. And for the love of the Valar, do not go ranting to Legolas and utter such foolishness as, 'You will never again set foot outside the Great Hall'! Finally, he is of age and ought to be included in discussions about what steps will be taken in the future to secure his safety. Do not simply decree that this or that will be done. I said I didn't think that he would run away, but I could be wrong. And even if he does not go so far as to abscond, he can be very creative in finding ways to resist orders that he resents. Do not push him too far!"
Thranduil had to grudgingly concede that what Gilglîr said was wise, and he promised to follow his advice. After the seneschal had departed, the King sat in his private chamber for a little while, calming himself and thinking over the coming conversation with his son. At last he thought himself ready, and he made his way to his son's chamber, where a picked guard stood at the ready. He knocked upon the door and was answered by a very subdued 'Enter'.
If Thranduil had been inclined to rant before entering his son's room, one glance at Legolas would have cured him of the impulse. His son lay on his back upon his bed, arms limp by his sides, staring bleakly up at the ceiling, a downcast expression upon his face.
"I suppose," he said tonelessly, "that you have come to tell me something along the lines of 'You will never again set foot outside the Great Hall'."
To Thranduil's surprise, he found himself smiling. He sat down on the bed beside his son, took one of his hands, and gently stroked it.
"No, ion-nîn, I have come to tell you no such thing. I will ask you to exercise great care for the next several days, until we get to the root of this conspiracy, and you will no doubt chafe at some of the restrictions, but by no means are you to become a prisoner in your own kingdom. I think we are both too tired to discuss the particulars at the moment, but as soon as Gilglîr returns, the three of us will put our heads together and determine a course of action that will permit you considerable liberty whilst still keeping your safety paramount."
Legolas turned his head and stared at his father in surprise.
"Truly, Ada?"
"Truly."
"And until then?"
"Here is what Gilglîr has suggested as temporary measures: you should remain within the Hall, you should mainly keep to your chamber, which will be guarded at all times, and you should be escorted when you do leave this room."
"Temporary measures?"
"Yes, temporary measures. They would be onerous if they were to be permanent restrictions, but I hope you will be able to bear them if you keep in mind that it shall only be for a little while. Can you do that?"
"Yes," said Legolas thoughtfully. "Yes, I can bear such restrictions for a little while. And when Gilglîr returns, they may be amended?"
"May and will," said Thranduil decisively. "I am sure that between the three of us, we ought to be able to come up with ways of keeping you both happy and safe."
He arose and looked fondly down at his son, who smiled up at him.
"For the time being, as you will be spending more time than usual in your chamber, is there anything that can be furnished you to make the room more appealing?"
Legolas considered.
"Yes," he said after a minute. "Could you have stars painted upon the ceiling?"
"It shall be done," declared his father. "And would you also like trees painted upon the walls—no, wait, I have a better idea. There is a young Elf—he is about your age, I think—who is marvelously talented at woodcarving. So skilled is he that he could transform your room into a forest, festooning the walls with columns that look like trees wrapped round with the tendrils of vines. Would that please you?"
Legolas grinned.
"It would please me very much, Ada."
"Good! Tomorrow he will be sent for! Oh, there is one matter I forgot to mention."
Legolas instantly sobered and looked nervously at his father.
"Gilglîr also suggested"—Thranduil paused for effect—"Gilglîr also suggested that Edwen Nana choose and cook your food. Do you think you can bear that?"
Relieved, Legolas laughed.
"Yes, I think I can endure that measure very well indeed. Nana is an excellent cook. Just do not tell me that she must also supervise my bath to safeguard me from drowning!"
"Hmm, that is an excellent idea—Gilglîr must have neglected to mention it."
Both Elves were laughing now. Legolas suddenly sat up and threw his arms around his father.
"I missed you, Ada," he cried. "I wanted so badly to be with you. But I didn't think you wanted me!"
"And now," said Thranduil, trying to sound light-hearted but unable to keep his voice from shaking, "you know that I have to struggle to restrain myself from locking you up, so badly do I want to keep you."
Legolas giggled in a strangled sort of way.
"I suppose I should keep that in mind when I am inclined to rail against the restrictions that you place upon me. I wanted you to love me, and I have certainly gotten my wish, haven't I!?"
"You have," agreed Thranduil, his voice still a trifle unsteady. "And I mine," he said to himself. Aloud he said, "I have just thought of something else."
This time Legolas did not look apprehensive. Instead, he said teasingly, "Do not tell me that you are going to take advantage of my words by laying on more restrictions!"
Thranduil laughed heartily, in a way that would have sounded familiar to Legolas' mother.
"Nothing like that. It occurs to me that for the next few days you will not after all be spending much time in this chamber, for if it is to be redecorated, you must stay elsewhere. Now where shall I bestow you?" he said, pretending to reflect. "Perhaps a room in the dungeon would do. I did threaten to place you there one time, did I not? No? Would you mind sharing with Tawarmaenas for a few days, then?"
Legolas said he would be delighted to share Tawarmaenas' chamber.
"You don't think he would mind the intrusion, do you, Ada?"
"We will ask him, of course, but I doubt it. He is always pleased to be in your company. He was very disappointed not to be allowed to join the riding, as I am sure that you know."
"But it was a good thing that he wasn't along, given how things turned out," said Legolas thoughtfully. "I would not wish him thrown into peril on my account."
Gilglîr had quickly explained to Thranduil his suspicions about Dûredhel's motives, and the King thought to himself that if Legolas' cousin had accompanied him, the attack likely would have been postponed. Still, perhaps it was best that it came when it did. Glorfindel had a mighty reputation as a warrior, and Elrond's sons were becoming well known for their fighting prowess as well. Thranduil could not help but be glad that they had been on hand to augment his own forces.
Tawarmaenas said he would indeed be pleased if Legolas were to share his chamber for the next several days, and Legolas cheerfully seized a few items of clothing and joined him in preparing to retire. He almost felt like an elfling again as they tussled over the bedclothes before they both drifted into slumber. Outside the door stood the watchful guards, who had of course been pulled from their position by Legolas' room, which stood just around a bend in the corridor.
Sometime during the night Legolas woke up feeling very cold. Tawarmaenas had rolled this way and that, and the entire blanket was wrapped around him, making him look very much as if he were enclosed in a cocoon. Shivering, Legolas slipped out of the bed and padded to the door. When he opened it, he saw six very alert guards staring back at him.
"May we help you, Prince Legolas?" asked their leader.
"I am going to fetch my blanket," smiled Legolas, "as my cousin will not share!"
The guards smiled back at him, but the leader insisted on accompanying him. Legolas thought it was silly to escort him to the next chamber, but he did not argue, instead shrugging it off secure in the knowledge that the restrictions would be lifted after a time. Legolas and the guard went around the corner, and the guard stood respectfully outside as Legolas went into the chamber. He had hardly taken two steps when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The prince spun around and seized by the wrist a descending arm that clutched a dagger in its fist. Legolas wrenched away the dagger and tossed it aside. It landed noiselessly upon the bed, and the assailant brought his other hand to Legolas' throat and began to squeeze. Legolas grappled for his enemy's own throat, and as he did so, his hand snagged on a chain. The chain snapped, and something metallic clinked upon the floor. Instantly, Legolas' attacker released him and stepped back. "Guard," shouted Legolas, but the sentry, alerted by the sound of the falling object, was already leaping into the room, sword drawn. The attacker, however, stood quite still.
Legolas lit a candle and held it up. It was a young Elf who had attacked him, and he seemed to be in a daze, looking about as if he knew not where he was.
"I know him," said the guard. "That is Dûredhel's nephew, his sister-son."
Legolas bent down and picked up the fallen object. It proved to be a mithril ring identical to the ones that had been removed from the bodies of the dead and injured Elves.
"Where did you get this?" he asked the young Elf.
"It was in an envelope that my uncle said I should open if he were ever killed or injured. He said that the envelope contained something that would help me bear up in these hard times. Word came yesterday that he had been badly wounded, and I did as he said. I opened the envelope. In it was that ring upon a chain, and I donned it."
"And then?"
The Elf looked bewildered.
"I remember fastening the chain around my neck, but I do not remember anything more. What chamber is this? I have never been in it before."
"This is my chamber."
"Your chamber, my Lord? I have no business in your chamber."
"True," said Legolas wryly. "Return to your own at once, and if you value your life, say nothing of this matter."
"Is that wise, Prince Legolas?" asked the guard. "Should he not be placed under guard?"
"Not for my sake, but perhaps for his. He won't make another attempt on my life, but someone may try to kill him if they believe that he knows much more than the little he has been able to tell us. Have a few sentries linger about near his chamber, but not too conspicuously. If he keeps quiet and no attention is drawn to him, he may be safe enough in a few days."
"Very well, my Lord. No doubt you wish your father to be informed at once."
"He must be told, but it can wait until morning."
The guard looked skeptical, and Legolas patiently explained.
"The news would only deprive him of a good night's sleep. I am safe for now; why should he be troubled unnecessarily?"
The guard looked a little uncertain. Legolas, however, had adopted a commanding tone, and the guard obeyed. The prince retrieved his blanket, and the guard then escorted him and Dûredhel's nephew to Tawarmaenas' chamber, whence two sentries were detailed to accompany the young interloper, who still looked confused, back to his own room. "The poor lad needs an escort," Legolas thought to himself, "just to make sure that he doesn't get lost!"
In the morning, Legolas himself told Thranduil of what had transpired. Fortunately, the King was so aghast that he was rendered speechless and therefore incapable of ranting. Now it was Legolas himself who seized the opportunity to indulge in a little 'I told you so'.
"I hope you notice, Ada, that this attempt took place within the walls of the Great Hall itself. Perhaps," he chaffed his father, "it would be well if I were to spend all my time outdoors wandering hither and thither so that my location would not be fixed nor my movements predictable."
Thranduil scowled but forbore answering. Legolas continued, but in a more serious vein.
"I do not believe that this young Elf was privy to the details of the conspiracy—or that, indeed, he even knew that a conspiracy existed. However, he may have unwittingly observed some facts that we may find useful—as, for example, the identities of Elves or others with whom Dûredhel has been consorting."
Thranduil at last spoke.
"Let him be summoned at once that he may be questioned," he thundered.
"Nay, Ada, do not summon him to either your presence chamber or this your private chamber, for it would be noted, and no attention should be drawn to him. I will meet with him in some out-of-the-way place—with guards present," he added hastily as he saw his father open his mouth to object.
Reluctantly, Thranduil agreed, but later he had to concede that Legolas' plan was probably for the best. Following different paths, the two young Elves came together in a chamber well removed from all eyes, and there Dûredhel's nephew, not overawed as he would have been in the presence of Thranduil or Gilglîr, spoke freely, anxious to make amends for having attacked his prince by providing as much aid as he could. Together, he and Legolas drew up a list of all the Elves who were likely to have been taken into Dûredhel's confidence. When Gilglîr returned from escorting the Imladris Elves to the border, this scroll was compared against a list of all the dead Elves. They corresponded exactly.
"I think it likely," said Gilglîr later as he and Thranduil shared a glass of wine, "that all the elven conspirators are accounted for."
"Yes," agreed Thranduil, "for between the list provided by Dûredhel's nephew and the search that was made for any further rings, no evidence has been found that would indicate that anyone else was involved."
"One question remains unanswered, however," said Gilglîr. "What caused Dûredhel to turn traitor? Those rings came from the outside. Who provided them? The nephew knew nothing of Dûredhel's contacts with foreigners, having only observed his uncle in his dealings with Greenwood Elves."
"Dûredhel was not always so attentive to Tawarmaenas," mused Thranduil. "Gilglîr, can you remember the point at which Dûredhel began his attempts to flatter my nephew? Did anything noteworthy happen about that time? Did any missives or messengers arrive? Who or what could Dûredhel have had contact with that might account for his having turned traitor?"
Gilglîr thought long and hard. Over the centuries Dûredhel, as one of the King's councilors, had dealt with many visitors to the court, both Man and Elf. Only one stood out in Gilglîr's mind: an errand-rider from Rohan who had seemed to gravitate toward Dûredhel more and more each time he visited. A sallow-faced, thin-lipped Man with stringy hair who had an oily, unctuous manner quite unlike the frank demeanor of the typical Rider of Rohan. What had his name been? Grim-something. Yes, that was it. Gríma. On his last visit he had followed Dûredhel about like a fawning spaniel, and Dûredhel had not only tolerated his obsequiousness but seemed pleased by it. It was at this time that Dûredhel himself adopted the selfsame manner in the presence of Tawarmaenas, hovering over the young Elf and plying him with exaggerated praise. Tawarmaenas, however, Gilglîr thought with satisfaction, had not seemed impressed by Dûredhel's deference. Indeed, the young Elf seemed uncomfortable at being the target of the sycophant.
"Gilglîr?" Thranduil's voice interrupted the musings of the seneschal.
"Your pardon, Thranduil. I wonder if evil crept into the court in the guise of Gríma, the errand-rider of Rohan."
"That would not surprise me," said Thranduil grimly. "That one is so oily that I always take care to step around where ever he has stood, lest I slip upon a puddle of grease. Dûredhel, however, always seemed glad of his visits. But why would the Rohirrim wish us ill?"
"If it was Gríma who suborned Dûredhel," Gilglîr pointed out, "it is not certain that he did so in the employ of the Rohirrim. Gríma himself could have been playing the traitor. For, although we deal little with the Rohirrim, on those occasions when we have come together, there has been no strife between our peoples. Indeed, our very distance from them would speak against their laying any plots against us. We do not threaten their territory, being removed from it, and they would not wish to move into our land, for it is wooded and would hold no appeal for horse-masters who revel in the open plains. I would sooner believe that Gríma was serving Sauron than the Rohirrim."
"I hope you are right, my friend, for I would be reluctant to think ill of the Rohirrim. But whoever Grima's master may be, we must watch him carefully the next time he arrives bearing missives. We must look for signs either of his innocence or guilt, and, in case he is the culprit, he must be kept from corrupting any other Elves. Whenever he is in the Hall, he must be escorted by such Elves whose loyalty is unquestionable."
"Yes," Gilglîr agreed. "In fact, I myself shall bear him company, loathsome as I find him to be."
"He will no doubt swell up with pride to find himself the recipient of the attentions of the Seneschal himself," observed Thranduil. "Until," he added sardonically, "it dawns upon him that your constant attendance will frustrate any further attempts to try the loyalty of my subjects."
Gilglîr smiled grimly.
"I shall stick to him tighter than a leech," he promised.
As Thranduil had promised Legolas, upon Gilglîr's return the three of them had discussed the matter of Legolas' safety, and gradually most restrictions were lifted. For the time being, however, Legolas continued to share a room with Tawarmaenas, for, even though Legolas was no longer to be confined for many hours each day in his chamber, he and his father had agreed that the renovations were to be completed. One day as Legolas passed by his chamber, he saw that the door was ajar, and he decided to step in and see how the project was going. His guard waited as he slipped into the room and looked about. Legolas gaped in amazement. Even unfinished, it was truly an amazing sight. Had he heard birdsong, he would have been sure that he stood outdoors, for he smelled the forest and was everywhere surrounded by trees.
Although he heard no bird calls, he did hear an Elf whistling, and he peered behind a tree to find the woodcrafter, his back to him, carefully carving the tendril of a vine. He was dressed in the ordinary fashion of a craftsman, his only unusual feature being his red hair, uncommon among Elves. Legolas cleared his throat, and the woodcrafter turned around. Now for the second time Legolas found himself gaping.
"Tathar!" he exclaimed. "Tathar!"
Tathar peered hard at him.
"Laiqua?" he said uncertainly.
Legolas whooped and threw his arms around his childhood friend. Tathar dropped his tools and reciprocated. The guard, of course, hearing Legolas cry out, leaped into the chamber with his sword drawn.
"My Lord!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?"
Now it was Tathar's turn to gape. He released his grip on Legolas and took a step backward.
"He called you 'My Lord'," he whispered. "I am decorating the room of Prince Legolas. Legolas. Laiqua. Oh, by the Valar!"
Tathar bowed his head and dropped to one knee.
"Your pardon, Prince Legolas," he stammered. "I did not realize it was you. I would never have presumed—"
"No, no, no!" exclaimed Legolas, seizing Tathar by the shoulders and drawing him to his feet. "I am still Laiqua to Edwen Nana, and I want to be Laiqua to you as well."
"Edwen Nana?" said Tathar. "I had heard that she was dwelling in the Great Hall. Do you see her often?"
Legolas laughed.
"Very often," he said.
"I should like to see her sometime," Tathar said wistfully.
"And so you shall," promised Legolas. "This very evening, in fact. That is, if your mother and father can spare you on such short notice."
"Oh," said Tathar eagerly, "they are in Lake-town for the next several weeks. My father has received a commission from the merchants there to refurbish several houses. I have been staying here, in the Hall. In fact," he added, blushing, "each night I have simply been laying down my bed roll in this very chamber."
"As I shall do so tonight," declared Legolas. "It will feel as if we are sleeping under the stars!"
In truth, there was very little sleeping done that night—or the next several nights—for the two Elves had a millennium of doings to catch up on. As a result, Tathar was not able to work as quickly as his wont, and so the renovation dragged on several extra days. Legolas, of course, had no objections to any delay that would result in Tathar staying in the Hall, and Thranduil, seeing how things stood, shrugged his shoulders and ordered that Tathar be paid for each day whether he labored long or no. And when Legolas' room was completed, Gilglîr found many other tasks that needed doing in the Great Hall. Eventually, Tathar's family was given an apartment in the Hall, and Tathar formally became a retainer of the King.
As for Edwen Nana, nothing had ever rendered her speechless, but the reappearance of Tathar in her life succeeded in doing so—for about five minutes. After that brief pause, she erupted into such an effusion of joy that Thranduil himself was reduced to giggling at her antics. Of course, no one, not even Legolas, knew that Edwen Nana had an especial reason for rejoicing at this reunion with her 'little Tathar'. Only the Valar were privy to her secret.
And so it was that the dark times receded in the memories of Legolas and his circle, and—for a little while at least—life at the Hall became quite merry.