Insert disclaimer written at 4:20 AM. Don't own em. Don't wanna own em.
Don't have any cash.
Ugh. I hate plot bunnies that don't sleep.
Legolas took the long way back from the stables. A chill breeze played in his hair as he walked in the noontime sun. Autumn was here, the harvest underway. The days were getting shorter and there was often frost on the windows in the dawn of the new day. Soon the skies would turn leaden and gray and the sun would not deign to show her face for days at a time. He was determined to enjoy the sunshine while it lasted.
His steps took him near his gardens. The trees spoke to him, but sluggishly. They were preparing for their long slumber that would take them through the bitter cold of winter and into the burst of renewed life that was spring. He then walked past the small shed that housed Davyn.
Arick stood outside the building, arms crossed and cudgel dangling from one hand. Legolas slowed his pace and looked a question at the large man. The guard simply shrugged and gestured with his head towards the closed door. Someone was with the mage and desired their conversation to be private. That in itself was not uncommon. Legolas often did the same thing when he and Davyn were deep in discussion.
He looked at the closed door with a furrowed brow while he traced with one finger the pattern on the bow he held. Aragorn had gifted the bow to him not long ago. It was beautifully made and adorned with traceries of flowers and leaves, but it was lighter and shorter than his own. The arrows that had been gifted with it fit the bow perfectly and were fletched in black and white. Bracers and a quiver of the finest leather, intricately tooled and painted with the Queen of Gondor's personal arms completed the gift.
Legolas had tried to refuse such a handsome gift but Aragorn had insisted. "Take it. It's the least I can give you, and the only gift I could think of that you would willingly accept", he had said.
And he had been right. Legolas loved the artistry of the gift almost as much as he appreciated the thought that had gone into it. He had told Disa that night that he would use them for now, but put them aside for her to use when he had gone. The girl had curled her lip in disdain, a common look for her, and responded that the day she carried a weapon would be the day the elf would be a proper woman.
Legolas had laughed merrily at the barb. It seemed that they were slowly coming to an understanding. She disliked him for the improper ways he behaved, and he endured her company so that she could stay alive. It was a truce that had the potential to turn into a working relationship.
He forced his thoughts to return to the shed and the closed door in front of him. He had no desire to see Davyn right now, but the curiosity to know who was occupying the mage's shed was almost overwhelming.
He looked again at Arick and then tilted his head towards the closed door. "Who?" The question was quietly voiced, but the guard jumped as if Legolas had shouted the question.
At that moment, the door swung open silently upon its leather hinges, and Gilby emerged from the dark shelter of the shed and blinked in the bright sun. His hand moved to place something in his belt pouch. Arnlaug followed a moment later. The chancellor looked as though he'd bitten into an apple and found half a worm, but before Legolas could ask what vexed him Gilby smiled brightly.
"And here is the brightest gem that shines in Gondor's crown! Good afternoon, dear Legolas. How does this day find you?" The colorless man smirked at the elf's wince.
"Don't call me that, Gilby. You know how I despise that song." Legolas tried to put a jesting note into his voice, but knew that he sounded more annoyed than amused. A vision of Gilby with a black and white fletched arrow protruding from his buttocks filled the elf's eyes and was quickly pushed to the back of his mind before he made the image come to life.
The thin man smiled wider. "I beg your pardon, dear lady. It slipped my mind."
Legolas frowned. It was well known that nothing ever slipped Gilby's mind. The elf cocked his head. "Dear Lady?" He echoed with a dangerous tone, and then shook his head. Some battles were not worth fighting, even when he would have preferred to run into the fray. "What is it that you and Arnlaug have to discuss with Davyn? I thought neither of you had much use for him."
Gilby shrugged, his face going inscrutable. "There are many pies he had his fingers in before he fell from grace. It is up to us to put things back into order and because of that we must still have contact with him. I cannot wait for the day that we are completely free of his shadow." The cold eyes glittered as he looked at the elf and then his voice changed, cheery once again. "The harvest season is almost gone." In a brazen gesture, he patted Legolas' stomach. "Think you that we will soon see the fruit of your womb, Lady?"
Body stiff, Legolas leaned away from the touch as Arnlaug made a noise of disgust and batted the man's hand away. "Leave off your teasing, Gilby."
The chancellor turned tired eyes to Legolas. He noted the flushed cheeks and flashing eyes. "Forgive him, Legolas. He forgets himself in his feeble attempt at humor." He glared at Gilby as he spoke, causing the pale man to break his gaze and look to the ground.
Gilby's voice was subdued. "I apologize, Legolas. I was taken by the high spirits of the day and my tongue ran ahead of my mind. I lost all good sense. Forgive me."
The elf pinned the man with a suspicious look and remained silent. It was also well known that Gilby did not get taken with high spirits or lose good sense. The man did nothing without a well calculated plan. After a moment, Legolas gave a nod acknowledging the apology.
Arnlaug cleared his throat and continued. "I think what my colleague was trying to say was that we hope the child will be here soon. We know that you cannot be very comfortable as you are now."
Legolas nodded slowly, eyes not leaving Gilby. "I understand and thank you for your concern. I have found that my temper has been short and unforgiving these past weeks. I fear that I take offense too easily at times."
Arnlaug smiled, his strong face wreathed in wrinkles. With one hand he easily grasped one of Legolas' smaller hands and wrapped it around his arm. "I understand that it is so with all who are in this condition. I take no insult at your offense." He laughed at his own small joke, his chuckle deep in his chest. He started walking towards the palace, leading the elf slowly as he did.
The tension broken, Legolas laughed as well and allowed the man to lead him. Gilby silently shadowed their steps, almost wraithlike, colorless even in the brightest sunlight.
After a few moments Arnlaug spoke again. "I understand that Synan's caravan has been sighted a few miles from the city. I expect he will be here before nightfall." The man patted the hand on his arm with an indulgent air. "I wager that he has brought more of those honeyed dates that you've taken such a liking to."
Legolas smiled coyly. The ravenous appetite that had been coaxed forward by a concerted effort from Valda and Aragorn had yet to recede. His passion for sweets had become legendary after the last time he'd sent Lanelese down to the kitchens during the small hours for something. anything. sweet. The cook had been roused at an unnatural hour by the clatter of the maid, clad only in her nightshift, searching desperately for anything that would appease the desperate elf. Luckily, the cook was able to produce some honey cakes that had stopped the overwhelming craving temporarily-until the next night. "Perhaps it is better for me if he does not have dates, Arnlaug. Every time that I think my stomach could not grow any bigger, it does."
The man surveyed the elf with a curious eye. Legolas had gained flesh in the past weeks and was no longer painfully thin, but could not be called plump in any sense of the word. If anything, the figure could be called slender except for the large bulge that had expanded across the middle of the small frame. He suspected that the stomach would grow still larger, but did nothing but give a fatherly smile and pat the hand again. "Perhaps you would like to ride down with us to greet Synan when he arrives. I recall he was quite fond of you and would no doubt enjoy seeing you again."
Gilby piped up. "He was most fond of you, Legolas, and my sources say he speaks very highly of you to all he meets." The thin man turned his head to regard the sky as they approached the great hall. "It is a good thing that you are here. Gondor's reputation is increased by your presence." He looked back down and smiled cryptically at the elf, and then turned from the searching look he received in return.
And when they reached the door and parted ways Legolas wrinkled his brow as he realized that they had never answered his question about Davyn.
The two men continued onto an empty hall, and stopped to speak in hushed voices. Arnlaug's fatherly smile had turned back into a grimace. "I like this not, Gilby." Arnlaug shook his head to emphasize just how much he didn't like it. "Have you forgotten how dangerous that damned mage is now that your leg no longer pains you? And you tipped your hand too soon with Legolas. He suspects you of something. I didn't think you to be a fool."
The thin man leaned forward and flicked an imaginary speck of lint from the Chancellor's tunic. "I've forgotten nothing." Gilby looked around the empty stone hall again. Still deserted. "Let us just call it a measure of last resort. Something we had to turn to when all other options were gone. As for Legolas, she can suspect all she wants, but by the time she realizes our plans, it will be too late." He smiled slyly. "It makes the game more interesting when the opponent is suspicious."
"I still don't like it. Gives me a bad taste in my mouth to even consider dealing with that snake again. He almost killed me last time. I suppose that being almost lamed wasn't nearly as traumatic for you as being almost dead was for me." The large man pursed his lips in a grimace. "And I don't like deceiving the little elf. It's not as if he hasn't been through enough already."
Gilby shrugged. "How horrible can it be to be the Queen of one of the most powerful realms in the world? What great hardship will she endure except to lay with her husband, be waited on hand and foot and be mother to kings?" The thin man smiled an icy smile and pulled a small glass vial from his pouch. "Davyn can be very efficient when given the correct materials and motivations. A few drops of this a day in her food and we will have a docile and biddable woman in the place of the one we have now. "
Arnlaug took the vial from Gilby's skeletal hand and held it up the light. The fluid within was clear and colorless. He pulled the stopper and sniffed it suspiciously. Odorless as well. He replaced the cork and handed it back to his counterpart. "And how do you propose to get the elf to take this? Her staff is loyal. I shudder to think that my wife would find out about this plan of yours."
Gilby smiled grimly. "Let me handle that. It's better if you don't know my methods. When your wife interrogates you, you'll be unable to betray me or my agent." He palmed the small bottle and then checked the position of the sun against the wall. "I need to go make arrangements now, in fact." With a half salute, he began to trot down the hall.
Arnlaug looked after the man and then turned the other way. A scowl covered his face and was remarked upon by many who saw and avoided him in the corridors.
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Disa waited in the stillroom, her fingers folding a small piece of parchment first this way, then that. She jumped at the sound of a footfall in the hall outside, and then visibly relaxed when they continued away from her. She looked around the room again, noting that the room was stuffed with herbs and roots.
Swags of freshly harvested herbs hung from the ceiling, set there to dry and keep their potency. High windows allowed light in to illuminate bottles of powders and roots that lined the shelves on each wall, and barrels of different concoctions and infusions that were carefully stacked in the corners. A large worktable sat next to her, the wood surface scrubbed until it was almost white. A large scale and set of measures sat squarely in the middle of the table. The scent of the room was woodsy and green, yet made her nose itch all the same.
Her mother had taught her the art of making basic medicines, as all noble women should know. She might be called upon as Lady of her Manor to soothe a child's fever with willowbark, or to ease an infection with a special poultice of moss, or even to ease a brave warrior's passage from this world with an infusion of poppy and strong spirits. It would be her duty to do so and she would rise to it. She thought to herself that she could heal the entire world with a stillroom like this.
The palms of her hands and fingers were blotchy and blackened. Her constant worrying of the parchment had removed all traces of ink from the vellum and deposited it upon her sweaty fingers. There would be no trace of the message left for any unwelcome eyes.
Footsteps sounded again in the corridor and she raised large eyes to the door and held her breath as it opened deliberately, admitted a shadow into the dim room, and then closed tightly.
Gilby moved into a shaft of sunlight from the high window and looked down at the girl. Her eyes grew wide, and then she looked modestly down at her feet and curtseyed. "My Lord Councilor." She bowed her head.
The man allowed one side of his mouth to twitch in grudging approval. The girl certainly was well behaved; he had to give her that. No matter what else her father had done, he had raised her well. "Greetings, child. I see you received my message."
"Yes, my lord." The eyes did not waver from the floor. The girl radiated proper modesty and respect.
Gilby leaned against the worktable at his side. "I know that you miss your parents, child. I know that you wish to go home."
The small shoulders shook for a moment, as if holding back a sob. "Yes, my lord."
The man continued. "I know that you weep yourself to sleep each night. I know that you look out the windows and wish to see the rolling hills of your home and only see stone walls. I know that you miss your nurse and your sisters." Now the girl looked slowly up to him. Her brown eyes were large and glistened with tears. "Do you want to be queen, Disa?" His question shocked the girl, for she openly stared at him.
"No, my lord." Her eyes met his for a moment, and then she dropped them again, as was proper.
"Good. I don't want you to be queen either. I'm glad we're in agreement."
Disa looked at the man's chest, finding the pattern of woven cloth fascinating. "Are you going to kill me now, my lord?" She raised her eyes again to the pale face in front of her.
Gilby raised an eyebrow. "Why on earth would you think that, child?"
This time she maintained eye contact. "My father raised me to be a proper woman, my lord. He did not raise me to be stupid. I have overheard enough conversations to know that you and many others bear no love for my father. I've also heard enough to know that many would prefer me dead than queen. I would hazard to guess that you would be among them. My father says that you are no more to be trusted than a venomous snake." She paused and then lowered her eyes. "It is my duty as his obedient daughter to believe him in all things, especially that."
A bark of laughter escaped Gilby's lips. "Brilliant. So, you are not as dull as they say. Brilliant ruse, my dear, hiding in plain sight." His was a genuine smile now. "Deadly is the enemy who convinces her foe to underestimate her." He straightened and reached into his belt pouch. "I think we can work together to find a way to get you home to your family, my dear."
The glass bottle made a small clink as he placed it on the worktable. Disa furrowed her brow as she looked at it and then glanced back up to the tall man, eyes narrowed. "What is it, my lord?"
"A few drops a day in her food or drink. Start today."
There was a pause. "I will not poison her."
Gilby grimaced. "It isn't poison. It's simply something to pacify her and keep her here."
Disa stared at the bottle. "Will it harm the child?"
"You ask too many questions." The man ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "No. It won't hurt her. It won't hurt the child. The one who made this knows what will befall him if there is any harm either of them. We simply want her docile and controllable." He looked at the girl again, and she met his eyes boldly. "And once we have her controlled, you will be able to return home to your family. Is that such a bad bargain, Disa?"
Dust motes danced in the shaft of sunlight that shone down upon them. It seemed to Gilby that the square of light that the shaft left on the worktable inched slowly forward while the girl considered his statement. He turned away to examine a shelf and the jars upon it. A slight scrape, and the squeak of the door opening was heard, and he turned to find himself alone in the room and the glass bottle gone.
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The tea was hot and sweet, just the way he liked it. The taste of honey overwhelmed all the other flavors and almost made his teeth hurt. That was a good thing, Legolas decided. The need for sweetness was a hunger that was easily filled, unlike his craving of the other day for nutbread and spiced butter. He was quite sure that Cook would be tearing her hair out in frustration soon enough. He could barely keep up with what his body spontaneously demanded, much less predict it.
He sipped his tea and watched as Disa cleaned took away the teapot and cleaned up after herself. ::The girl makes good tea. I'll give her that. It almost makes it worth all the arguments.:: Legolas leaned back in the chair and then continued to Valda. "Your husband told me that Synan and his first caravan have been spotted. I want to ride down to greet him when they get here."
Valda nodded. "Perhaps he'll have some of those exotic fabrics that he was wearing last time he was here." The Countess paused in thought. "And maybe some of those dates you've become so fond of."
Laughter bubbled from between his lips. "Yes. And perhaps some dates." He smiled at her confusion. "Your husband said the same thing earlier today." He sobered again. "I encountered him in the gardens at Davyn's shack along with Gilby."
The Countess cocked her head. "Really? I wonder why?." Her face said that she could give a few guesses why, and none of them were pleasant to conceive.
"I don't know. I asked them and they managed to change the subject so well I didn't even notice they failed to answer me before they left." He sipped his tea again. "I think they're up to something. Or at least Gilby. Valar help us all."
"Gilby is man who puts the welfare of the kingdom as his only concern." The words seemed to be dragged out of her mouth, they came so slowly. "He sometimes forgets the cost of what he does on a personal level." She looked as though she wanted to say more, but then shook her head. "I will talk to Arnlaug tonight and see what mischief they've started."
The elf nodded and then leaned forward to place his now empty mug on the table as Valda swept from the room. Pleasant warmth filled his limbs and his attention was drawn to the leaping flames in the fireplace.
It was in this state that Disa found him much later. The blue eyes were unfocused, as if in elven sleep. "Are you awake?" Her whisper was barely audible, but Legolas turned slowly at the sound of her voice and nodded distantly. Guilt filled her mouth with a bitter taste that she swallowed quickly down. "It's time to get dressed. You wanted to ride down to see the caravan."
Legolas nodded again in slow motion and allowed Disa to help him from the chair and to the mirror to dress. Ill fitting tunic and leggings were stripped from his unresisting body and a cream colored gown was pulled over his head and laced up the back. During this process the woman in the mirror caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes as he watched her. She was trying to tell him something. Her eyes kept straying to the table. Her hand would slowly rise and point to the mug on the table. He swallowed with difficulty. It was hard to think. hard to put two thoughts together. The feel of a brush in his hair distracted him even more. His eyes drifted again to the empty mug. There was something there that bothered him.
Disa came to stand to one side of him and gently touched Legolas' stomach. Her voice was barely audible but Legolas heard her clearly. "You will be happy here."
He blinked in confusion. Surely he wasn't happy. He remembered very clearly that he wasn't happy. Or did he? He looked again in the mirror, at the image of the woman there who kept trying to tell him something so very important. He turned his eyes again to Disa. "I will be happy here?"
The girl blinked in surprise. "Yes. You will be happy here."
He returned his gaze to the mirror. The woman there seemed to have a life of her own, silently screaming, silently telling him something of great importance that he could not hear. His attention was drawn from her when Disa spoke again.
"You will love your husband, and he will love you, and you will be happy here." The words had a sing song cadence and were almost hypnotic.
Legolas blinked. The woman in the mirror screamed at him again, tears running down her face. Her words bounced off her side of the glass to fall down around her feet in her reversed world. There was something there. Some thing so wrong with what the girl said, but he was unable to think of what it was.
With a tug on his arm Disa drew him away from the mirror. He kept his eyes on the woman there as she threw her body forward and beat her small fists on the glass. And then Legolas was around the door and unable to see her anymore.
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The air was chill when they stepped outside and for a moment it helped Legolas gain his thoughts. He paused on the steps and looked for Arod in the confusing mass of horses and men that were milling around impatiently. Gilby materialized next to his arm, grasped it gently and then led him through the courtyard to where Aragorn waited on his stallion.
Legolas pulled back for a moment and looked about him in confusion. "Arod?" He could not see or hear his beloved horse.
The councilor tightened his grip and steered Legolas forward. "Not today. Today you ride with the king."
His confusion was increased when the man turned him and lifted him up like a doll onto the back of the tall horse. Aragorn was equally surprised when he had to grab the elf around the waist and steady him in front of the saddle. His touch was unasked for, but Legolas did not protest.
Legolas automatically tried to swing his leg over the neck of the horse to have a proper seat, but was stopped when Gilby grabbed his leg and held it still. "Not today. Today you ride like a modest woman." The man drew the skirts down to hide pale legs and ankles and then smiled up at the king as Aragorn helped steady the elf into a more comfortable position. Aragorn looked down at his councilor and frowned. Something was wrong. Legolas would never allow himself to be treated this way by anyone, much less Gilby.
The procession left the courtyard and Legolas allowed himself to lean back into the man behind him. A festival atmosphere filled the air, in between the harvest and the arrival of the caravan, but Legolas was lost in his thoughts. :: This is wrong. This should not be. But why is this wrong?::
The arms around his waist held him safe and steady in an otherwise unfamiliar riding posture, but there was something wrong with that as well. He furrowed his brow and tried to collect his thoughts. If only he'd been able to hear the woman in the mirror when she had warned him.
He finally turned his head to look into the face above him, tilting his head to do so. Grey eyes bore deeply into his own and words sang in his mind again. ::You will love your husband and he will love you, and you will be happy here.:: :::NO. NO. NO. This is not right. I do not want this.:: The grey eyes narrowed and then a pair of lips fell to his neck to nuzzle tenderly there. A moan escaped his lips and his eyes lidded. A hand freed itself from his waist and worked its way almost onto the juncture of his thighs, and he arched his back into the man behind him. Inside his mind he could faintly hear the woman in the mirror screaming, but she was far away and faint, her words indiscernible.
The man behind him stiffened and bellowed his voice deep and rough with anger. "GILBY!"
Legolas allowed his head to loll into Aragorn's neck. He leaned up against the warm body and drowsed as he listened to the two men.
The thin man rode up next to king, and they rode stirrup to stirrup. "My lord."
Aragorn gestured at the limp body in his arms. "What did you do? She should be feasting on my liver at this point."
The councilor leaned forward. "Isn't this what you want? You want her to be loving and obedient. You want her to stay with you."
The king ground his teeth. "Not. Like. This." With a calming breath, he continued. "Never like this. Only if she chooses of her own free will."
"But my lord, consider the alternatives. If we allow her free will, she will leave us forever." Gilby gestured towards the gates ahead. "This way she'll always be happy and she'll always love you."
Shaking his head again, Aragorn sighed. "If you do this again, I will send her away myself. I don't care how you did it, I don't care who you got to do it, but it stops and it stops now. I've sworn to let her go when the time comes, and I will not have you argue with me on this. Now get out of my sight."
Chastised and humiliated, Gilby left the side of his king and rode on. His face was blank, but his eyes were still calculating. He was not a man to give up easily.
Ugh. I hate plot bunnies that don't sleep.
Legolas took the long way back from the stables. A chill breeze played in his hair as he walked in the noontime sun. Autumn was here, the harvest underway. The days were getting shorter and there was often frost on the windows in the dawn of the new day. Soon the skies would turn leaden and gray and the sun would not deign to show her face for days at a time. He was determined to enjoy the sunshine while it lasted.
His steps took him near his gardens. The trees spoke to him, but sluggishly. They were preparing for their long slumber that would take them through the bitter cold of winter and into the burst of renewed life that was spring. He then walked past the small shed that housed Davyn.
Arick stood outside the building, arms crossed and cudgel dangling from one hand. Legolas slowed his pace and looked a question at the large man. The guard simply shrugged and gestured with his head towards the closed door. Someone was with the mage and desired their conversation to be private. That in itself was not uncommon. Legolas often did the same thing when he and Davyn were deep in discussion.
He looked at the closed door with a furrowed brow while he traced with one finger the pattern on the bow he held. Aragorn had gifted the bow to him not long ago. It was beautifully made and adorned with traceries of flowers and leaves, but it was lighter and shorter than his own. The arrows that had been gifted with it fit the bow perfectly and were fletched in black and white. Bracers and a quiver of the finest leather, intricately tooled and painted with the Queen of Gondor's personal arms completed the gift.
Legolas had tried to refuse such a handsome gift but Aragorn had insisted. "Take it. It's the least I can give you, and the only gift I could think of that you would willingly accept", he had said.
And he had been right. Legolas loved the artistry of the gift almost as much as he appreciated the thought that had gone into it. He had told Disa that night that he would use them for now, but put them aside for her to use when he had gone. The girl had curled her lip in disdain, a common look for her, and responded that the day she carried a weapon would be the day the elf would be a proper woman.
Legolas had laughed merrily at the barb. It seemed that they were slowly coming to an understanding. She disliked him for the improper ways he behaved, and he endured her company so that she could stay alive. It was a truce that had the potential to turn into a working relationship.
He forced his thoughts to return to the shed and the closed door in front of him. He had no desire to see Davyn right now, but the curiosity to know who was occupying the mage's shed was almost overwhelming.
He looked again at Arick and then tilted his head towards the closed door. "Who?" The question was quietly voiced, but the guard jumped as if Legolas had shouted the question.
At that moment, the door swung open silently upon its leather hinges, and Gilby emerged from the dark shelter of the shed and blinked in the bright sun. His hand moved to place something in his belt pouch. Arnlaug followed a moment later. The chancellor looked as though he'd bitten into an apple and found half a worm, but before Legolas could ask what vexed him Gilby smiled brightly.
"And here is the brightest gem that shines in Gondor's crown! Good afternoon, dear Legolas. How does this day find you?" The colorless man smirked at the elf's wince.
"Don't call me that, Gilby. You know how I despise that song." Legolas tried to put a jesting note into his voice, but knew that he sounded more annoyed than amused. A vision of Gilby with a black and white fletched arrow protruding from his buttocks filled the elf's eyes and was quickly pushed to the back of his mind before he made the image come to life.
The thin man smiled wider. "I beg your pardon, dear lady. It slipped my mind."
Legolas frowned. It was well known that nothing ever slipped Gilby's mind. The elf cocked his head. "Dear Lady?" He echoed with a dangerous tone, and then shook his head. Some battles were not worth fighting, even when he would have preferred to run into the fray. "What is it that you and Arnlaug have to discuss with Davyn? I thought neither of you had much use for him."
Gilby shrugged, his face going inscrutable. "There are many pies he had his fingers in before he fell from grace. It is up to us to put things back into order and because of that we must still have contact with him. I cannot wait for the day that we are completely free of his shadow." The cold eyes glittered as he looked at the elf and then his voice changed, cheery once again. "The harvest season is almost gone." In a brazen gesture, he patted Legolas' stomach. "Think you that we will soon see the fruit of your womb, Lady?"
Body stiff, Legolas leaned away from the touch as Arnlaug made a noise of disgust and batted the man's hand away. "Leave off your teasing, Gilby."
The chancellor turned tired eyes to Legolas. He noted the flushed cheeks and flashing eyes. "Forgive him, Legolas. He forgets himself in his feeble attempt at humor." He glared at Gilby as he spoke, causing the pale man to break his gaze and look to the ground.
Gilby's voice was subdued. "I apologize, Legolas. I was taken by the high spirits of the day and my tongue ran ahead of my mind. I lost all good sense. Forgive me."
The elf pinned the man with a suspicious look and remained silent. It was also well known that Gilby did not get taken with high spirits or lose good sense. The man did nothing without a well calculated plan. After a moment, Legolas gave a nod acknowledging the apology.
Arnlaug cleared his throat and continued. "I think what my colleague was trying to say was that we hope the child will be here soon. We know that you cannot be very comfortable as you are now."
Legolas nodded slowly, eyes not leaving Gilby. "I understand and thank you for your concern. I have found that my temper has been short and unforgiving these past weeks. I fear that I take offense too easily at times."
Arnlaug smiled, his strong face wreathed in wrinkles. With one hand he easily grasped one of Legolas' smaller hands and wrapped it around his arm. "I understand that it is so with all who are in this condition. I take no insult at your offense." He laughed at his own small joke, his chuckle deep in his chest. He started walking towards the palace, leading the elf slowly as he did.
The tension broken, Legolas laughed as well and allowed the man to lead him. Gilby silently shadowed their steps, almost wraithlike, colorless even in the brightest sunlight.
After a few moments Arnlaug spoke again. "I understand that Synan's caravan has been sighted a few miles from the city. I expect he will be here before nightfall." The man patted the hand on his arm with an indulgent air. "I wager that he has brought more of those honeyed dates that you've taken such a liking to."
Legolas smiled coyly. The ravenous appetite that had been coaxed forward by a concerted effort from Valda and Aragorn had yet to recede. His passion for sweets had become legendary after the last time he'd sent Lanelese down to the kitchens during the small hours for something. anything. sweet. The cook had been roused at an unnatural hour by the clatter of the maid, clad only in her nightshift, searching desperately for anything that would appease the desperate elf. Luckily, the cook was able to produce some honey cakes that had stopped the overwhelming craving temporarily-until the next night. "Perhaps it is better for me if he does not have dates, Arnlaug. Every time that I think my stomach could not grow any bigger, it does."
The man surveyed the elf with a curious eye. Legolas had gained flesh in the past weeks and was no longer painfully thin, but could not be called plump in any sense of the word. If anything, the figure could be called slender except for the large bulge that had expanded across the middle of the small frame. He suspected that the stomach would grow still larger, but did nothing but give a fatherly smile and pat the hand again. "Perhaps you would like to ride down with us to greet Synan when he arrives. I recall he was quite fond of you and would no doubt enjoy seeing you again."
Gilby piped up. "He was most fond of you, Legolas, and my sources say he speaks very highly of you to all he meets." The thin man turned his head to regard the sky as they approached the great hall. "It is a good thing that you are here. Gondor's reputation is increased by your presence." He looked back down and smiled cryptically at the elf, and then turned from the searching look he received in return.
And when they reached the door and parted ways Legolas wrinkled his brow as he realized that they had never answered his question about Davyn.
The two men continued onto an empty hall, and stopped to speak in hushed voices. Arnlaug's fatherly smile had turned back into a grimace. "I like this not, Gilby." Arnlaug shook his head to emphasize just how much he didn't like it. "Have you forgotten how dangerous that damned mage is now that your leg no longer pains you? And you tipped your hand too soon with Legolas. He suspects you of something. I didn't think you to be a fool."
The thin man leaned forward and flicked an imaginary speck of lint from the Chancellor's tunic. "I've forgotten nothing." Gilby looked around the empty stone hall again. Still deserted. "Let us just call it a measure of last resort. Something we had to turn to when all other options were gone. As for Legolas, she can suspect all she wants, but by the time she realizes our plans, it will be too late." He smiled slyly. "It makes the game more interesting when the opponent is suspicious."
"I still don't like it. Gives me a bad taste in my mouth to even consider dealing with that snake again. He almost killed me last time. I suppose that being almost lamed wasn't nearly as traumatic for you as being almost dead was for me." The large man pursed his lips in a grimace. "And I don't like deceiving the little elf. It's not as if he hasn't been through enough already."
Gilby shrugged. "How horrible can it be to be the Queen of one of the most powerful realms in the world? What great hardship will she endure except to lay with her husband, be waited on hand and foot and be mother to kings?" The thin man smiled an icy smile and pulled a small glass vial from his pouch. "Davyn can be very efficient when given the correct materials and motivations. A few drops of this a day in her food and we will have a docile and biddable woman in the place of the one we have now. "
Arnlaug took the vial from Gilby's skeletal hand and held it up the light. The fluid within was clear and colorless. He pulled the stopper and sniffed it suspiciously. Odorless as well. He replaced the cork and handed it back to his counterpart. "And how do you propose to get the elf to take this? Her staff is loyal. I shudder to think that my wife would find out about this plan of yours."
Gilby smiled grimly. "Let me handle that. It's better if you don't know my methods. When your wife interrogates you, you'll be unable to betray me or my agent." He palmed the small bottle and then checked the position of the sun against the wall. "I need to go make arrangements now, in fact." With a half salute, he began to trot down the hall.
Arnlaug looked after the man and then turned the other way. A scowl covered his face and was remarked upon by many who saw and avoided him in the corridors.
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Disa waited in the stillroom, her fingers folding a small piece of parchment first this way, then that. She jumped at the sound of a footfall in the hall outside, and then visibly relaxed when they continued away from her. She looked around the room again, noting that the room was stuffed with herbs and roots.
Swags of freshly harvested herbs hung from the ceiling, set there to dry and keep their potency. High windows allowed light in to illuminate bottles of powders and roots that lined the shelves on each wall, and barrels of different concoctions and infusions that were carefully stacked in the corners. A large worktable sat next to her, the wood surface scrubbed until it was almost white. A large scale and set of measures sat squarely in the middle of the table. The scent of the room was woodsy and green, yet made her nose itch all the same.
Her mother had taught her the art of making basic medicines, as all noble women should know. She might be called upon as Lady of her Manor to soothe a child's fever with willowbark, or to ease an infection with a special poultice of moss, or even to ease a brave warrior's passage from this world with an infusion of poppy and strong spirits. It would be her duty to do so and she would rise to it. She thought to herself that she could heal the entire world with a stillroom like this.
The palms of her hands and fingers were blotchy and blackened. Her constant worrying of the parchment had removed all traces of ink from the vellum and deposited it upon her sweaty fingers. There would be no trace of the message left for any unwelcome eyes.
Footsteps sounded again in the corridor and she raised large eyes to the door and held her breath as it opened deliberately, admitted a shadow into the dim room, and then closed tightly.
Gilby moved into a shaft of sunlight from the high window and looked down at the girl. Her eyes grew wide, and then she looked modestly down at her feet and curtseyed. "My Lord Councilor." She bowed her head.
The man allowed one side of his mouth to twitch in grudging approval. The girl certainly was well behaved; he had to give her that. No matter what else her father had done, he had raised her well. "Greetings, child. I see you received my message."
"Yes, my lord." The eyes did not waver from the floor. The girl radiated proper modesty and respect.
Gilby leaned against the worktable at his side. "I know that you miss your parents, child. I know that you wish to go home."
The small shoulders shook for a moment, as if holding back a sob. "Yes, my lord."
The man continued. "I know that you weep yourself to sleep each night. I know that you look out the windows and wish to see the rolling hills of your home and only see stone walls. I know that you miss your nurse and your sisters." Now the girl looked slowly up to him. Her brown eyes were large and glistened with tears. "Do you want to be queen, Disa?" His question shocked the girl, for she openly stared at him.
"No, my lord." Her eyes met his for a moment, and then she dropped them again, as was proper.
"Good. I don't want you to be queen either. I'm glad we're in agreement."
Disa looked at the man's chest, finding the pattern of woven cloth fascinating. "Are you going to kill me now, my lord?" She raised her eyes again to the pale face in front of her.
Gilby raised an eyebrow. "Why on earth would you think that, child?"
This time she maintained eye contact. "My father raised me to be a proper woman, my lord. He did not raise me to be stupid. I have overheard enough conversations to know that you and many others bear no love for my father. I've also heard enough to know that many would prefer me dead than queen. I would hazard to guess that you would be among them. My father says that you are no more to be trusted than a venomous snake." She paused and then lowered her eyes. "It is my duty as his obedient daughter to believe him in all things, especially that."
A bark of laughter escaped Gilby's lips. "Brilliant. So, you are not as dull as they say. Brilliant ruse, my dear, hiding in plain sight." His was a genuine smile now. "Deadly is the enemy who convinces her foe to underestimate her." He straightened and reached into his belt pouch. "I think we can work together to find a way to get you home to your family, my dear."
The glass bottle made a small clink as he placed it on the worktable. Disa furrowed her brow as she looked at it and then glanced back up to the tall man, eyes narrowed. "What is it, my lord?"
"A few drops a day in her food or drink. Start today."
There was a pause. "I will not poison her."
Gilby grimaced. "It isn't poison. It's simply something to pacify her and keep her here."
Disa stared at the bottle. "Will it harm the child?"
"You ask too many questions." The man ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "No. It won't hurt her. It won't hurt the child. The one who made this knows what will befall him if there is any harm either of them. We simply want her docile and controllable." He looked at the girl again, and she met his eyes boldly. "And once we have her controlled, you will be able to return home to your family. Is that such a bad bargain, Disa?"
Dust motes danced in the shaft of sunlight that shone down upon them. It seemed to Gilby that the square of light that the shaft left on the worktable inched slowly forward while the girl considered his statement. He turned away to examine a shelf and the jars upon it. A slight scrape, and the squeak of the door opening was heard, and he turned to find himself alone in the room and the glass bottle gone.
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The tea was hot and sweet, just the way he liked it. The taste of honey overwhelmed all the other flavors and almost made his teeth hurt. That was a good thing, Legolas decided. The need for sweetness was a hunger that was easily filled, unlike his craving of the other day for nutbread and spiced butter. He was quite sure that Cook would be tearing her hair out in frustration soon enough. He could barely keep up with what his body spontaneously demanded, much less predict it.
He sipped his tea and watched as Disa cleaned took away the teapot and cleaned up after herself. ::The girl makes good tea. I'll give her that. It almost makes it worth all the arguments.:: Legolas leaned back in the chair and then continued to Valda. "Your husband told me that Synan and his first caravan have been spotted. I want to ride down to greet him when they get here."
Valda nodded. "Perhaps he'll have some of those exotic fabrics that he was wearing last time he was here." The Countess paused in thought. "And maybe some of those dates you've become so fond of."
Laughter bubbled from between his lips. "Yes. And perhaps some dates." He smiled at her confusion. "Your husband said the same thing earlier today." He sobered again. "I encountered him in the gardens at Davyn's shack along with Gilby."
The Countess cocked her head. "Really? I wonder why?." Her face said that she could give a few guesses why, and none of them were pleasant to conceive.
"I don't know. I asked them and they managed to change the subject so well I didn't even notice they failed to answer me before they left." He sipped his tea again. "I think they're up to something. Or at least Gilby. Valar help us all."
"Gilby is man who puts the welfare of the kingdom as his only concern." The words seemed to be dragged out of her mouth, they came so slowly. "He sometimes forgets the cost of what he does on a personal level." She looked as though she wanted to say more, but then shook her head. "I will talk to Arnlaug tonight and see what mischief they've started."
The elf nodded and then leaned forward to place his now empty mug on the table as Valda swept from the room. Pleasant warmth filled his limbs and his attention was drawn to the leaping flames in the fireplace.
It was in this state that Disa found him much later. The blue eyes were unfocused, as if in elven sleep. "Are you awake?" Her whisper was barely audible, but Legolas turned slowly at the sound of her voice and nodded distantly. Guilt filled her mouth with a bitter taste that she swallowed quickly down. "It's time to get dressed. You wanted to ride down to see the caravan."
Legolas nodded again in slow motion and allowed Disa to help him from the chair and to the mirror to dress. Ill fitting tunic and leggings were stripped from his unresisting body and a cream colored gown was pulled over his head and laced up the back. During this process the woman in the mirror caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes as he watched her. She was trying to tell him something. Her eyes kept straying to the table. Her hand would slowly rise and point to the mug on the table. He swallowed with difficulty. It was hard to think. hard to put two thoughts together. The feel of a brush in his hair distracted him even more. His eyes drifted again to the empty mug. There was something there that bothered him.
Disa came to stand to one side of him and gently touched Legolas' stomach. Her voice was barely audible but Legolas heard her clearly. "You will be happy here."
He blinked in confusion. Surely he wasn't happy. He remembered very clearly that he wasn't happy. Or did he? He looked again in the mirror, at the image of the woman there who kept trying to tell him something so very important. He turned his eyes again to Disa. "I will be happy here?"
The girl blinked in surprise. "Yes. You will be happy here."
He returned his gaze to the mirror. The woman there seemed to have a life of her own, silently screaming, silently telling him something of great importance that he could not hear. His attention was drawn from her when Disa spoke again.
"You will love your husband, and he will love you, and you will be happy here." The words had a sing song cadence and were almost hypnotic.
Legolas blinked. The woman in the mirror screamed at him again, tears running down her face. Her words bounced off her side of the glass to fall down around her feet in her reversed world. There was something there. Some thing so wrong with what the girl said, but he was unable to think of what it was.
With a tug on his arm Disa drew him away from the mirror. He kept his eyes on the woman there as she threw her body forward and beat her small fists on the glass. And then Legolas was around the door and unable to see her anymore.
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The air was chill when they stepped outside and for a moment it helped Legolas gain his thoughts. He paused on the steps and looked for Arod in the confusing mass of horses and men that were milling around impatiently. Gilby materialized next to his arm, grasped it gently and then led him through the courtyard to where Aragorn waited on his stallion.
Legolas pulled back for a moment and looked about him in confusion. "Arod?" He could not see or hear his beloved horse.
The councilor tightened his grip and steered Legolas forward. "Not today. Today you ride with the king."
His confusion was increased when the man turned him and lifted him up like a doll onto the back of the tall horse. Aragorn was equally surprised when he had to grab the elf around the waist and steady him in front of the saddle. His touch was unasked for, but Legolas did not protest.
Legolas automatically tried to swing his leg over the neck of the horse to have a proper seat, but was stopped when Gilby grabbed his leg and held it still. "Not today. Today you ride like a modest woman." The man drew the skirts down to hide pale legs and ankles and then smiled up at the king as Aragorn helped steady the elf into a more comfortable position. Aragorn looked down at his councilor and frowned. Something was wrong. Legolas would never allow himself to be treated this way by anyone, much less Gilby.
The procession left the courtyard and Legolas allowed himself to lean back into the man behind him. A festival atmosphere filled the air, in between the harvest and the arrival of the caravan, but Legolas was lost in his thoughts. :: This is wrong. This should not be. But why is this wrong?::
The arms around his waist held him safe and steady in an otherwise unfamiliar riding posture, but there was something wrong with that as well. He furrowed his brow and tried to collect his thoughts. If only he'd been able to hear the woman in the mirror when she had warned him.
He finally turned his head to look into the face above him, tilting his head to do so. Grey eyes bore deeply into his own and words sang in his mind again. ::You will love your husband and he will love you, and you will be happy here.:: :::NO. NO. NO. This is not right. I do not want this.:: The grey eyes narrowed and then a pair of lips fell to his neck to nuzzle tenderly there. A moan escaped his lips and his eyes lidded. A hand freed itself from his waist and worked its way almost onto the juncture of his thighs, and he arched his back into the man behind him. Inside his mind he could faintly hear the woman in the mirror screaming, but she was far away and faint, her words indiscernible.
The man behind him stiffened and bellowed his voice deep and rough with anger. "GILBY!"
Legolas allowed his head to loll into Aragorn's neck. He leaned up against the warm body and drowsed as he listened to the two men.
The thin man rode up next to king, and they rode stirrup to stirrup. "My lord."
Aragorn gestured at the limp body in his arms. "What did you do? She should be feasting on my liver at this point."
The councilor leaned forward. "Isn't this what you want? You want her to be loving and obedient. You want her to stay with you."
The king ground his teeth. "Not. Like. This." With a calming breath, he continued. "Never like this. Only if she chooses of her own free will."
"But my lord, consider the alternatives. If we allow her free will, she will leave us forever." Gilby gestured towards the gates ahead. "This way she'll always be happy and she'll always love you."
Shaking his head again, Aragorn sighed. "If you do this again, I will send her away myself. I don't care how you did it, I don't care who you got to do it, but it stops and it stops now. I've sworn to let her go when the time comes, and I will not have you argue with me on this. Now get out of my sight."
Chastised and humiliated, Gilby left the side of his king and rode on. His face was blank, but his eyes were still calculating. He was not a man to give up easily.