Legolas was very aware, of course, that the eyes of all the soldiers were on him once Faramir had led Tauriel and him to said place of discovery. Which was he was glad that he didn't have to pretend a lot today. The shock would have been too big to do so anyway. For a moment, it tried to paralyze every movement before he knelt down next to the almost black-colored spring, at a loss for words.
"What does this mean?" Tauriel found her voice again before he did. The elves had spent month after month, removing the poison from the war from the Ithilien's waters. It was absolutely nonsensical that there should be another place now, showing the worst symptoms of this kind that Legolas and she had ever seen.
"I was hoping, you could tell us." Faramir didn't leave Legolas out of his sight. "Heat is still tormenting the land. The fountains of Minas Tirith and Emyn Arnen are as good as dried up. As early as tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, our water would have come from the river branch supplied by this spring. There aren't many people who know that – and who would have a reason to wish harm on the King and me."
"Glove and water bag." Ignoring the badly disguised reproach, for now, Legolas reached out his hand to the Steward until one of the soldiers handed him the requested items.
"Do you protect yourself when you poison our Lord's water with this dirt, too?" one of the men shouted. "Or is getting your hands dirty beneath the Elves?"
"If you'd spared me the dramatic revelation and told me immediately what this is about, we could have brought appropriate tools ourselves." With a little grimace, Legolas filled the water bag with the unpleasantly smelling water, sealed it securely, and fastened it to his belt.
"That said: Unlike you, we've been dealing with this dirt ever since we live here. While it might originate from the ruins of Mordor, the wargs carried it here again and again. You would be drinking Ithilien's Venom every day if we hadn't taken care of it. If anyone wants to know what that would feel like, please reach in there. I hope none of you has even a scratch on your arm. The infections caused by this sludge can last for weeks. It's particularly painful in the eyes – though I'm doubting, that would make much of a difference right now, given how blind a few people of the Steward apparently are already."
"You …" The same man stepped forward, his hands turned to fists.
Faramir stopped him by grabbing his arm though he was grating his teeth himself.
"I want to avoid even more problems between us, Your Highness. You've indeed done this country too much of a service in the war and afterward for that. But especially because there is no one who knows this poison better than your people ... Seeing as the wargs here have all been wiped out, as you told me, it would indeed be blind to not realize that only the elves can be involved in such a deed here, so far from Mordor. If you do no longer care for this country, maybe this is not the right place for you anymore. I don't know if what happened to this river branch was done on purpose or a fatal mistake, but you know very well that the King and I have relied on your people when it came to taking care of Ithilien's waters."
"Exactly. Which is why I need time." Legolas ignored Tauriel's offended gasp and hurried back to Arod, his shoulders tense, but for now, no one tried to stop him.
"I need to find out immediately who of my people made such a crucial error and why. And how we can stop this new catastrophe. For the moment, we will prepare bags with an antidote for both your palace and the capital and bring it to you, just in case it doesn't rain before we can clean this mess here up."
"Not so fast. Look at me when I'm talking to you." Even a lot of goodwill didn't help to ignore how much the Steward had really changed. Legolas had last seen such temperamental impatience in Faramir's brother, shortly before Boromir's tragic demise.
After what Tauriel had just told Legolas about Faramir – far too late, as he would have to make her understand in a calm moment – Legolas' reaction to so much unfriendliness was no longer wrath but compassion. While he didn't have a lot of love for this man, it was the peace in the land of his people having been massively endangered for months. Which was why he would not rush anything now, not start a conflict even deeper than it was already prevailing. He needed an excuse to retire, to find out what in the world was really going on here.
So he forced himself to take a quick look back over his shoulder. Fortunately looking into fogged eyes made it easy, not saying the whole truth. "I need to be quick. Trust me, Steward."
"Someone who swore in public to act against the King?" For the first time, Faramir let it show how much Legolas' speech after the murder of his friends back then had frightened him as well, and how much composure it cost him to suffer the elves in his area anyway.
"That's exactly what I mean when I say that words often lose their meaning in Emyn Arnen, depending on who is passing them on." Legolas steered Arod next to Faramir to be able to look him fully in the eye.
"I have never said a single word about raising my weapon against His Majesty. It might no longer mean anything to Men, but the bonds created between the members of the Fellowship in the war have never lost their strength for me. I led my people here, and I plan to give them a safe future. I will therefore destroy anyone who threatens their lives, but I will also not hesitate to weed out saboteurs to my cause, even if they should be part of my own folk. Whoever it is in my woods who is no longer loyal to Ithilien, it's my job to find out."
"Legolas, with all due respect." Tauriel was no longer willing to accept these accusations against the elves. Her hands were clenched so firmly around the belt of her dress as she was about to get her dagger out from under it. "How can you say that about our own …?"
"That will be all." Having to talk like that to a close friend of all people was hurting Legolas himself the most.
But he couldn't expect a she-elf who had been avoiding going to battle for decades, to already have recalled every muddled detail of planning and tactics again. It was understandable that she was being upset, and her temper was something he couldn't rid her of anyway.
In some regard, Tauriel was so completely different from his wife, which was probably the very reason he had never felt attracted to her, no matter how many people in their former military circles had used to claim the opposite. And that was something that hurt especially badly on lonely nights when he realized how much he was missing Tarisilya.
Tarisilya had made her choice though; she didn't want to see him right now, she didn't even have time to write. He had to live with that. This whole thing wouldn't take long anymore, that at least was a comfort.
At least Tauriel now followed him unquestioningly while the White Company was still discussing wildly.
Faramir seemed to be willing to give him time, so they could ride back undisturbed.
Well, as undisturbed as you could when a certain she-elf with a very loud voice wanted to vent her frustration. As soon as they were out of earshot, Tauriel stopped abruptly and put her hands on her hips. "How could you do that, Legolas? You should have told them what's wrong with the Steward! You deceived them deliberately and damaged our people's honor! If the soldiers talk to others about their suspicions against us …"
"They won't. They have far too little proof for that. Besides, one rumor in Emyn Arnen about us more or less doesn't make a difference at this point." Legolas tiredly wiped his eyes. The too-close touch of the water had brought back the pain that weighed down on him ever since the meeting with that warg back then.
Soldiers of Gondor of all people coming up with the insane idea that elves – people who didn't care for anything as much as for the world and its beauty –, would damage the ground with this stuff even just out of neglect, that easily showed the huge kind of problems the Secondborn were having right now, especially regarding foresight.
"So what was that you said about that wine?"
"It's hard to tell. The mug that this soldier brought us back then is already carrying many traces of the last few months, and I didn't have time to examine it immediately. You can hardly tell by the smell alone or by mixing it with other substances, what might have been in there originally. That's also why I didn't say anything immediately. I hoped I could find out more first. The only thing I know right now is that something was wrong with it. Don't you get it?"
Upset, Tauriel reached out and grabbed Legolas' shoulder. "He's sick! Haven't you seen him? His white skin, his reddened eyes … Something's affecting him, and I'm not talking about the people at his court who make him believe things that could come right from a Stewardaides flyer. You have to warn him!"
"And startle the Stewardaides so that they can flee at once and continue somewhere else? So that they can attack our water next?" Legolas angrily tore the water bag from his belt and held it out to Tauriel. "This stuff wasn't carried here in an eagle's stomach! This, we can deal with at least because by now, we know how we can neutralize this dirt. But given that these bastards don't even shy away from poisoning the man they worship so much, next time, we can be quite sure they'll pour something into our rivers that we are not ready for. These people have methods at their disposal that Secondborn should never have access to! I don't know how they're doing that, but right now, they have all advantages on their side."
"So? What do you plan?" Tauriel backed away voluntarily; the smell of that water was just unbearable.
Her expression revealed that she had a pretty good idea already and that she wouldn't like his answer. In a few months, you might easily relearn how to defend yourself against moderately trained men and collect information in a place that an elf with her child could enter inconspicuously the easiest; but Tauriel had lost a warrior's will to self-sacrifice when she had turned her back on Eryn Lasgalen.
And that was something Legolas had no way of giving back to her. He couldn't free her from her fear for her husband either. It was Camhanar's decision, and he had already confirmed his loyalty to Legolas more than once.
"As soon as the spring is clean, we go to Emyn Arnen. If we suspect right, the Stewardaides will be waiting there for us." His jaw ground hard when he got Arod going again. The time of idleness was finally over. "This time, we'll be prepared."
"We need to leave." Since Tarisilya had refused to talk to him all morning, Celeborn gave up at some point. He had come here again solely to explain to her in person why he had to ride to North Ithilien with his people, now that contrary to his hope, nothing had changed in Eryn Lasgalen. If she didn't even want to listen, he couldn't help her.
"Do what you think is the right thing." For the first time, she reacted to his presence at least for a moment before rolling to the side, with her hand pressed to her belly where recently, it had been all the time and stared into emptiness.
It reminded Celeborn of the war, of the time after Tarisilya's father had departed for the west and his daughter had only left her bed for brief rides with her beloved mare. This time, she had at least not stopped eating; she was fortunately too worried for her child for that. But if she completely cut contact with the world outside once more, that wouldn't be good for the baby either.
"I will do everything I can to protect the Prince. Do you really think I want to solve this crisis by violence?"
"What I think never mattered to anyone, did it?" The answer was the flat expression of an opinion that a few words wouldn't be able to change. "My father and my brother never cared about it in the past, my father-in-law couldn't care about it any less, and my husband cares the least. I'm just supposed to function, just like every she-elf dedicating herself to healing. We're dammed to stand still. We're supposed to keep the family together, that's what they always tried to make me believe. But they don't even give us a chance to do that."
"No one can say, you didn't try everything. Now it's my turn." Celeborn reached out a hand for the trembling shape under the thin cover hesitatingly but quickly drew it back. He wasn't made for this kind of conversation. If things in here wouldn't change soon, Galadriel would have to come here in person after all if she wanted to protect her charge from even more suffering.
His job was a different one.
No one can say, you didn't try everything.
We will have this bed that we will wake up in together. On the most beautiful talan, you've ever lived on, on the oldest, biggest tree of our new home, wherever that might be.
You always said that is your strength.
Maybe that's what you need to finally unchain your heart.
Promise me you'll take care of yourself; that we'll do it all right this time.
A touch against her belly tore Tarisilya away from her mournful memories. Conuiril caressed her with her whole small, white body and meowed askingly.
But in her head, it was suddenly not Conuiril that she was seeing, sitting next to her, wondering why her owner didn't pay attention to her at all. It was a cat just as white, in a terrible dream that a young she-elf had once had in Imladris a few centuries ago. Stupid images of a terrible tale, of oversized spiders that were eating elves alive … But the guilt that she had felt back then, had been real. Back then, she had gone astray for many long months. Not that it had meant anything. What was it that had happened anyway? A few hopes of an eccentric librarian who had seen her as nothing but a toy had been disappointed; and after that, she had never doubted her feelings ever again.
Later. But not that summer.
She had felt alone and looked for a replacement immediately. Legolas had never doubted his love for her even once, and she? For a ridiculous crush, she had put another elf in a hole so deep, had pushed him in a direction so wrong, that this elf was now endangering countless beings, just to prove something to someone. Tarisilya needed to stop lying to herself. She had hurt Erestor, and she had hurt Legolas, too. She hadn't even really apologized to him for never telling him about the whole thing.
And then she was surprised about no longer being able to get close enough to her husband, to lead him away from the abyss he'd stumbled along ever since the war? To make him forget all he had had to suffer, not least by Men, unfortunately, to give his soul any anchor other than anger? She had known how bad his condition had been, especially since Rohan, and yet she had given up, hiding behind the fact that Legolas had withdrawn from her after this thing with Erestor had come to light instead of trying to approach him. Who in the world was she to think herself infallible and put all the blame for the current misery on Legolas?
Suddenly the lethargy melted away from her so quickly that she sat up with a jerk. She hadn't even really noticed her visitor earlier, had given him dull answers that her depressive thoughts had whispered to her; but now she realized, shivering, what was about to happen here while she was feeling sorry for herself. She had left Legolas alone too often; she would never be that blind again.
No one can say, you didn't try everything.
"Not everything yet," she growled at Conuiril who eyed her in confusion, probably wondering if the she-elf who was always taking care of her so well, had lost her mind at last.
Especially because Tarisilya shed her clothes in a flash and got something very different from the cabinet. The emerald green dress was a gift given to her by the Lord upon her arrival when both of them had still been hoping that they would have a reasonable conversation with the King soon. Tarisilya should look proper for her father-in-law, Celeborn had told her with a wink, and yet also be a little protected on a possible trip to the border area, to get to the neighboring kingdom, with golden metal encasing her shoulders and her midsection, similar to what warriors were usually wearing.
"Princess, what are you doing?" One of the workers spotted Tarisilya just in time when she stormed to the paddock to fetch Tercelborne. His tone revealed what he thought about a healer elf wearing any kind of armor. "Lord Glorfindel said you should stay here!"
"Here. In these woods. Which are big." Lacking the patience to let someone help her get up on her horse, Tarisilya mounted the tall grey stallion that had been loyally accompanying her for so long now, from the ground. Some things, you never unlearned.
"You can't go out there!", the Galadhel shouted in protest. "The woods haven't been fully cleaned yet after the war! There could be spiders out there, wild animals, wargs, untamable beasts …"
"I sure hope so. One of them, I need to find" she answered dryly. "So if you don't want to disappoint Lord Glorfindel, you should rather come with me."
She steered Tercelborne past the elf and spurred him to a fast trot. She needed to get out of this place right now that had once more put her in danger to petrify, the way it had happened to her again and again since she'd been born.
The armor had some pleasant side effect that Tarisilya was already noticing on the first few feet down the broad wooden path north. She was attracting attention. Maybe the attention of some men who were making sure between East Lórien and Eryn Lasgalen that the respective rulers weren't at each other's throats at every look over the garden fence. Or the attention of spies on both sides, who spotted her shape during one of their routine patrols.
Either way, it didn't take long before she wasn't alone anymore. And it wasn't her pursuers approaching her at a quick speed. The elvish workers, she could hear somewhere behind her, as their horses had no chance to keep up with Tercelborne's speed and stamina. This conversation would hopefully already be over before the group would join them.
It was indeed Thranduil who personally rode to meet her, with a face like a hurricane over Mordor. She couldn't tell if he was possibly more being bothered by her disturbing his daily routine or that he had indeed had to get on another horse for her. But somehow, it was a relief, seeing him show any kind of real emotion for a change, even if it was anger.
When the stallion came to a stop, he was coming so close to Tercelborne that the horses almost collapsed. "How am I supposed to take care of you like this, Ilya? You've definitely been pregnant for too long. You can no longer think clearly." He tried his best to hide it, but something had changed since their last meeting. It cost Thranduil almost physical effort to radiate the ignorance that made it so difficult to look him in the eye.
It was probably not really fair, using that weakness, but who in her life had ever been considerate of her? "That's a comfortable excuse, isn't it? Did you tell your wife the same back then? Or was it only her death that made you this way? I didn't expect having to beg you first when I come to see you. I've been giving all the love that my heart is capable of to your son for a thousand years. And I'm being punished for it again and again, as if I was doing something wrong, even now. I can't do this anymore!"
Tarisilya hadn't meant to cry, not in front of this elf who grimaced at every emotional outburst as if tears were his personal enemies, but her nerves weren't the best. The short, hard ride had weakened her body and her mind; it was only the energy of her anger that kept her upright.
"What are you even talking about? I welcomed you kindly into my family, in spite of your ancestry." Still with the same arduous composure, Thranduil dismounted and took a few steps away from her. With his hands crossed behind his back, he was obviously trying to express serenity; instead, he made her sense just more how hard it was for him, not telling her completely different words.
"Are you trying to make me regret this decision? Legolas never lacked for anything, and now I'm having the same watchful eye on you. Is this how you show your gratitude?"
"Nonsense! The only ones who took care of me in the last few weeks were simple workers and an elvish Lord who would really have had better things to do. You did everything to avoid even looking at me. Well, no more."
When Thranduil's agitated pacing next had him pass her by closely, Tarisilya grabbed his arm. She would not let this mask of rejection scare her off any longer. Using only one hand, it took her longer to yank the strong buckles open but finally, the armor dropped to the ground. The tight-fitted dress beneath revealed the small hint of a belly that she'd been so proud of the whole time. The thing she feared for so unbelievably much.
"No!" She pulled Thranduil back to her because he wanted to turn away immediately. "I want you to look at me and say it to my face how little you care! I'm alive, I'm standing here right in front of you, and I am not alone! What was that for you, saving the Princess in distress? Did you just want to have some fun? And what would your people have said if your daughter-in-law had perished in your lands of all places, am I right? Not even for a second did you consider the kind of fear someone really has to bear when they're in danger of losing their child. Are you really such a stranger to that feeling? You haven't asked me about the baby even once. And not about your son either. Your family is just a decoration to you, isn't it? Doesn't matter if it's about Legolas or that pretty Lórien elf by his side who improved your reputation with the other elves because she helps you show how generous and ready to reconcile you are."
When there was finally an answer after a few long seconds, it wasn't the one she had expected. "It scares me that you are so very similar to my wife when she was young, Ilya. Elves of that age just can't understand yet how much whole millennia of time can change a soul. Only Secondborn who don't know any other level to communicate have to use many words. In families like mine that has seen far too many moons, wars and deaths, we don't need that many. My son knows that he can count on me, without me having to control him all the time. Try to accept that some things are just the way they are. Go back now. I told you, I'm looking out for you. I can't do that out here."
Visible relief helped Thranduil relax his posture a little when the Galadhrim approached. He quickly tore away from Tarisilya's grasp.
"The way you're looking out for your son when he needs you most?" Tarisilya asked, her voice trembling.
She had thought to know Legolas. Only now she realized, after all this time, how big the part of his soul really was that he'd hidden from her so far. There were so many things left unspoken in this relationship between his father and him, and apparently, the two of them seriously thought that to be completely normal. It was useless, trying to teach either of these stubborn beings anything. It didn't matter if she was being in Minas Tirith, at Cair Andros or here: She couldn't change anything about the course of things.
All these warnings, from Aragorn, from Arwen, Celeborn … She should have listened to them, should never have left Legolas alone. Maybe for him, it would have made a difference, seeing something from his child for the first time. Instead, if anything might go wrong again, they would not even be able to be together this time. Whom should she go see this time if her carelessness would be punished again? Maybe this King of ice and stone who had already not had any thought to spare about their tragedy back then?
"Like you've been looking out for us when we lost our first baby?"
Actually, she had thought to have enough distance to this thing by now. That the love for this new life in her body was strong enough to overcome the emptiness of loss. But with the last syllables on her lips, her legs gave in; she fell against a tree trunk with a sob.
Promise me you'll take care of yourself; that we'll do it all right this time.
How? How was she supposed to do that? No matter what she tried to do, every step brought her closer to the next catastrophe. Maybe she should tell the Galadhrim to take her to Lindon straight away, without stopping anywhere. At least there would be two elves in the west who would actually be interested for another life growing inside her.
When a hand was unexpectedly put on her shoulder, she thought it to be one of the workers and shook it off tiredly. She didn't want to be touched right now.
But the hand didn't give in, it touched her forehead next, and this was a kind of touch she knew. She had felt it when Thranduil had saved her from the Dunlendings hunting her. It mattered not. She didn't even want to hear it, how he would keep on trying to explain himself.
"Would you …" Only Thranduil's hoarse whisper, a sound she had never heard from him before, had her raise her head again and look into a face that had lost all color. "Would you please repeat that?"
"What …?" Even as she started to ask, she remembered it herself what the last thing was, she had thrown in his face. Suddenly, nausea choked her as well, when she understood why Thranduil looked as if she'd just introduced herself to him as Galadriel's biological daughter. "You didn't know that, ada?"
"Your Majesty? Is everything alright?" The Galadhrim approached them hesitatingly, uncertain what to think about the strange scene. You didn't see the King of Eryn Lasgalen so upset every day.
"Get out of here!" As if trying to make up for how quietly Thranduil had sounded a second ago, his voice now cracked. He would have toppled over if he hadn't braced himself against the same broad trunk that Tarisilya used.
Only when the elves had retreated, shaking their heads, he could stop the trembling in his body at least enough to be able to grab Tarisilya's chin. It was the twilight, of course, but she could have sworn, his eyes had brightened a shade, as if a fog would suddenly have dissolved in them that had clouded his sight through whole Ages. "When?"
There was so much anger in this one hissed syllable, that she tried to pull away even though it wasn't aimed at her. Far too much indefinite hate hardened his features for that as if he was already pondering how many people had to be brought to justice for this.
"On our way back to Gondor, after the wedding." The shock about what was suddenly happening to this elf who Tarisilya had thought completely incapable of empathy just a few minutes ago, was bigger than the old grief. All these months since the miscarriage, she had directed her dull anger on her father-in-law, entirely at the wrong person. So her husband had not even deemed this unimportant little incident worthy of at least a message home. Just one more thing that the two of them would have to talk about very long and extensively – once Legolas would finally be ready to listen again.
Once Gondor wasn't about to drown in new hate between the folks anymore, too. Thranduil was certainly right about one thing: If there was something incredibly unimportant right now, it was the past.
"It's over." She stepped aside while he was still trying to process this news and took a deep breath, wiping her cheeks in agitation. "But while we are talking, my husband might already have perished of his uncontrolled hate in Ithilien, so you'll have to excuse me. I have to help him."
"You're not going anywhere, Ilya, except back to your talan. Take your squirrels and your cat and lock all doors and windows from the inside." Thranduil finally found back his voice and his ability to move. Tarisilya almost found it soothing that he was already able to give orders again.
"Where are these incapable workers when you need them? Galadhrim! Take the Princess back."
Thranduil pushed Tarisilya insistently towards her horse. "I do not want to hear any report about you leaving the settlement again even once when I get back."
"You mean …?" Tarisilya tried in vain to fight him off, to ask what that was now supposed to mean. Unfortunately, her father-in-law was significantly stronger than her. The moment when she had not even dared to have any hope anymore, the tables were suddenly turning, so quickly that she understood only belatedly. "You'll ride to him?"
"Are you insane? No way."
As if he had all the time in the world, Thranduil waited until Tarisilya sat on her horse, before he finally released her from her tormenting uncertainty. "What do you think these ships in the harbor of Lórien are for? Now go."
With an embarrassed hum, more reluctantly than pleased, he endured the hug that Tarisilya just couldn't stop herself from giving him. "Do you want me to tell him anything?"
"He's not listening to me right now anyway," she answered with a sad smile. "No … Although – actually, yes." Her expression grew dark. "Ask him why he's not answering my letters."
She only understood why her father-in-law just rolled his eyes at her and rode off the other direction when one of the Galadhrim noticed her very confused face and had mercy on her.
"Given the current situation in Ithilien, did it really never occur to you that carrier pigeons can be shot from the sky before they reach their destination?"
This time, it was Tarisilya, trembling in shock when she suddenly realized how great a danger Legolas was really in.