Caffeine

Chapter Summary

In this chapter, both Legolas and Thranduil don't wear night shirts, Tauriel has a nightmare, and there is an interrogation!

Chapter Notes

Mostly a short filler chapter. I don't think there are any new elvish words in this one. If there are, please let me know in the comments! And, yes, the first part is totally mental eye candy. Just sayin...

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Chapter Six: Caffeine

Thranduil was caught in the mists of dreams. He knew it but he could do nothing for it save follow the dream to its conclusion. The halls of his palace were darker and wider than in reality, distorted in his mind's eye. He was following something, a dark shadow creature that laughed at him as he tried to hunt it in his own walls.

The shadow would seem to be before him only for the elvenking to get close enough to touch it and it would suddenly be behind him. Shadows shrank and grew in the halls of his dreams, nearly touching him. They weren't after him, not precisely. They were after something else.

The halls turned from those of his palace into the palace of his own childhood. The smell of blood and burnt flesh filled his nostrils. This was not a dream, not wholly, but a mix of dream and memory. He had survived the kinslaying at Doriath. Of course, he had only been an elfling when it occurred but, in the dream, he was as if himself now. He could hear the voices of the Noldor kinslayers beyond a pair of chamber doors.

Pressing them open in his dream, he beheld the three of the kinslayers dead on the floor; a dragon towered over them. The dragon did not belong to this memory but to another, and of a different age. It was the dragon that gave him his scars that lined the side of his face and breast.

As the dragon fire of his dream began, Thranduil woke up in a cold sweat. His hair was unruly from tossing and turning in his sleep. His injuries from that day visible before he could refocus enough to keep up the glamor that hid them. Cursing, he blamed the events of the past two months for drudging up old memories and pushing them on to new worries. He still wasn't sure if they had caught all involved in the conspiracy against the descendants of the kinslayers and against the crown.

Realizing he had a choice of sleeping or dwelling on memories Thranduil would much rather keep safely locked away, he chose sleep. Or, rather, he may have chosen sleep but sleep would not come. For the moment he laid back down upon his bed, a scream sounded that sent a cold shiver up his spine. It did not matter how many years it had been since he had heard that sort of sound before, he knew it all too well.

His parental instinct kicked in even as his mind was nearly to the point of sleep. Legolas, he thought at first until his mind caught up with the waking world. He shot out of bed and grasped at his robe while he fumbled for his slippers. Wearing little more than an open robe and his long winter sleep trousers, the elvenking realized it was Tauriel who cried and not his son. He strode through the few doors and chambers between them and entered the chambers where the little survivor was kept.

Legolas beat his father to the nursery – not having bothered with a robe or slippers. Yawning, he greeted his father as the prince held the blubbering elfling against his bare chest, "Go back to sleep, Ada. I have her."

Thranduil gruffed at that, managing to pull the robe on properly though he left it unbelted. "Sleep seems a mute point now," he informed his son while walking closer. The gwinig was not full on screaming but her tears were not stopping. Legolas held her against him while she cried into his shoulder. Neither ellyn had gotten much sleep the night before and it looks like this night would be much of the same. Thranduil, for a brief moment, felt bad for any that would dare cross him in the morning hours; he could already feel a foul mood coming on. For now, it would stay. He would not dare let it surface with his son and the elfling about.

Standing behind his son now, he could see the teary eyed gwinig's face. Legolas paced back and forth, gently patting the tiny creature on her back. It made Thranduil remember of other things from earlier in the day. "Galion mentioned he has narrowed the search for a maid to Tauriel," the elvenking supplied. The gwinig was hiccupping and crying still against his son's bare shoulder.

"Oh?" Legolas tried to say. It came out as a yawn.

"He also looked in Lady Siladhiel's suggestion," Thranduil continued, fighting a yawn himself. Legolas turned to look at his father, ignoring the blubbering noises from the gwinig on his shoulder. The elvenking was leaning against the nursey wall – his robed arms crossed over his bare chest. "Galion believes he can send out letters of inquiry later today to some of the closer human settlements," Thranduil smiled slightly at his son.

"You will allow a mortal to stay here?" Legolas questioned. Mortals came through the halls as emissaries or tradesman, never to stay longer than a fortnight. A wetnurse – as Legolas learned from some of the healers- would need to stay for far longer than that. At least a few months if not a year or two.

Thranduil laughed. This caught the elfling's attention and she stopped crying for a moment. "You think I wish for the gwinig to even have the possibility of ill health?" the elvenking teased his son. He knew that was not what Legolas had meant.

Legolas furrowed his brow; he was too sleepy to catch all the underplay and only focused on the task at hand. It took him longer than it should to rephrase his original question. "The aphadon woman will need apartments close by for Tauriel, ada," he began. "And for at least a year," Legolas spoke matter of factly as he took a step towards his father, switching the gwinig from his shoulder to cradling her in his arms. "You would do this?" the prince inquired.

Thranduil shrugged but otherwise did not move from his position. A smile playing on his face as he beheld the slowly quieting elfling in his son's hold. "A year, or two. What is that to us? If it will help Tauriel to grow and be nourished when she cannot yet sit at table, then I will allow it," the elvenking informed his own elfling with a hint of mirth in his voice.

Looking back up at his son, Thranduil continued, "You may wish to give her her bottle or allow me to do so." Legolas looked momentarily confused before looking down at the sleepy infant in his arms who was making a sucking motion with her mouth and eyeing the too high up prince's breast. Sighing, Legolas rearranged the gwinig, much to his father's continued mirth, and went to get the bottle before realizing that he would have to call down to the kitchens to get the warmed milk.

The prince said nothing as his father seemed to find a bit too much joy in Legolas' sleep deprived brain and handed the slightly weepy still gwinig to the elvenking. With Tauriel safely in his father's arms, Legolas made his way to the front of his apartments where an internal guard or two should be to order warmed milk for the elfling and a cup of concentrated tea for himself.

Thranduil set aside his morning meetings for the day and took over the interrogation of the prisoners from Legolas. He had found his son asleep in a chair in Tauriel's room. The chair was taken from the prince's bedroom and half dragged in if the slightly askew rugs indicated anything. Thranduil shook his head and threw a blanket over his grown elfling. The elvenking didn't bother to wake the prince – the elder remembered too many nights two eons ago where he had been much the same as his son, with his son.

The gwinig, at least, was in her cradle that Galion had found – curled up tightly. When Thranduil left the apartments, Tauriel was still asleep. The little one, who had been under the sun for only a few weeks, already had enough to fuel the nightmares of many a grown elf. That she had multiple last night was only surprising in that she hadn't had them since Legolas found her. The elvenking knew there would be more to come.

With a stoneware goblet of tea this time, Thranduil made his way down to the dungeons. He was to meet with Lady Colleth regarding at least two of the seven known from Beinion's inner circle. Soon to be former Lord Iorthon and Lord Dolgaeron were both of the Agricultural ministry It made sense, of course, Beinion had been the minister and most likely would first only bring in those he trusted the most in other matters. The traitor and kinslayer twisted and corrupted the loyalty of those under him to make it seem they were on a noble quest. How noble is it to kill those that held no part in the events of ages ago? That had not even been born?

Once near the cell that held Lord Iorthon – and had for near three weeks-, Thranduil paused. There were two guards and Vain Glossien rather than Lady Colleth. Vain Glossien bowed slightly to her king before awaiting for him to enter to conduct the interrogation.

"I believed Lady Colleth would be present today, Vain Glossien," the elvenking stated. The hidden question was why Glossien was present and Colleth was not. He sipped his goblet of tea that was growing cold.

"And I believed that Prince Legolas was to attend, your majesty," the head of investigations replied with a similar inherent question.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed at the elleth, but she did not squirm. No, she was too much Lord Alagos' daughter. Slowly, she bowed her head to accede to her king. "Lady Colleth has a minor family emergency today, my lord. She sent me in her place," Glossien informed him.

Not quite to a full grumpy mood – something he'd rather unleash on the prisoner at any rate- he turned and walked the rest of the way to the cell door, speaking, "Legolas was up with the survivor last night." It was as much of an explanation as he would give.

Walking into the cell, Thranduil noticed currently Lord Iorthon sitting in a chair, glaring at both himself and Vain Glossien. Rounding the cell slowly, the elvenking took another sip of his tea before standing slightly behind Iorthon and to the right. Vain Glossien brushed a bit of dust off a chair to take her own seat. With a look exchanged between himself and the head of investigations, the elleth began her interrogation.

"Explain again, if you would, precisely how you came to join in the traitor Beinion's company?" Vain Glossien inquired, her blank book and a bit of graphite in hand.

"Lord Beinion is not a traitor!" Iorthon screeched. "He died defending us from the true traitors to our people!"

The head of investigations only raised an eyebrow at that comment, her hands neatly folded on her lap. Iorthon stood and turned to the elvenking, glaring directly into his eyes before pointing rudely to Thranduil and turning back to Vain Glossien. "This is the traitor. He is the one that kept kinslayers in these woods and allowed his son's kin to join with them! He is a disgrace to us and should be the one you interrogate! Not the one you serve," the lord ranted.

Thranduil smirked. Iorthon whipped his head around to again glare at the elvenking, meeting his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, Thranduil sipped his tea from his stoneware goblet before responding to the accusations against him. "Name one in the village of Solchbar that was a kinslayer," the elvenking challenged before taking another sip of his tea.

Iorthon stood there and continued to glare while Glossien wrote in her book of notes. "I'm waiting," Thranduil insisted as he slowly began to pace the small cell.

"Sarmo," Iorthon supplied. Spinning on his heel, the elvenking came face to face with Iorthon, leaving little in the way of space between them.

"He never even killed a rabbit! Neither Sarmo nor his father nor his father's father dared to hurt a fellow child of Ilúvatar with or without cause!" Thranduil roared. His lack of sleep made his mood far less than pleasant. It was nice to have a worthy outlet for his general crankiness.

Stepping back from the slightly shocked ellon, the elvenking drank the last of his tea. "It was Beinion who was a kinslayer. He murdered a noble elleth and organized the murder of nearly four hundred fellow elves. What is he but a traitor to the people?" Thranduil inquired.

"Lord Beinion did what he needed to do to help us ensure the past could never happen again; that the Noldor of Fëanor's house could not take up their Oath and destroy us!" Iorthon bellowed.

"None of whom he killed had taken the Oath," Thranduil sneered at Iorthon, turned back towards him. "Do you believe that murdering an entire village and a noble elleth is not a kinslaying? Did Beinion not create in himself exactly what he thought to destroy?" the elvenking thundered.

Ignoring the battle of wills between the two ellyn, Vain Glossien spoke up, "Who is this us you believe would be destroyed? The Silmarilli are lost to all of Arda."

Thranduil furrowed his brow at that but kept a level glare at Iorthon. The lord ignored the elvenking and turned his glare on the elleth instead. "Do you not think that the descendants of the House of Fëanor would search for the lost silmarils and kill any who even looked to that treasure? Do you not know your history books?" the lord sneered; stepping closer to where Vain Glossien sat. When Iorthon raised his hand as if to grab at the elleth, that did it for Thranduil.

The elvenking pulled Narlugil from its sheath and held the sharpened side to Iorthon's hand. The very soon to be former lord stopped from reaching towards Glossien and did not move another muscle. Without tearing his eyes from the lord, Thranduil spoke, "Vain Glossien? Would you be so kind as to tell Lady Colleth that I have passed judgement on Iorthon? I hereby strip him of any titles or lands, giving those instead to our one survivor of Solchbar in recompense. I also order that Iorthon is not to leave this cell for light of day or night until he fades or I see it fit to let him sail."

The head of investigations quickly wrote down the order. "Yes, my lord. I will inform the lady," Glossien affirmed.

As both Vain Glossien and Thranduil left, Iorthon bored holes in the back of the elvenking's head. The former lord knew he would have to bide his time and wait but he would get out. He would get out and finished what Beinion started. They would be rid of the kinslayers and those that harbored them.

Arriving back at the royal apartments at mid-day, Thranduil did not find his son nor the gwinig. He also did not find Galion. After inquiring from one of the internal guards, he found Galion was finishing interviews for Tauriel's maid and Legolas had taken the tiny elleth down to the Maite company's rooms.

There, in the guard's part of the halls is where the elvenking found his son and ward. The guard were playing with the elfling and passing her between them as if she were a rather curious toy. After dealing with the prisoners this morn – for he had interrogated Lord Dolgaeron as well – it did him well to see such frivolity. As usual, it was too quickly terminated when one of the guards caught the elvenking watching them. The guards immediately came to attention and bowed to Thranduil; or tried to as one elleth held the gwinig and found it difficult to negotiate bowing or holding the elfling.

"At ease," the elvenking commanded. The guards stood back up but continued to be mostly silently. He could feel their eyes on him as he strode in towards his still tired looking son. It had been a century or more since Thranduil had entered this particular chamber.

"I take it you received my message?" he asked his son.

"Yes, adar," Legolas responded with a small smile. The prince awoke in the chair, confused. He didn't recall falling asleep there nor did he recall getting a blanket. Galion – who had collected Tauriel much to the prince's amusement- informed him that his father had taken on the interrogations that morning and that the prince was to rest.

The guards, noticing the royals talking, slowly began to mumble and speak amongst themselves. It wasn't the frivolity of a few moments ago but it was almost a normal drone that echoed through this part of the halls. Only Corporal Nanessa, who had Tauriel in her arms, did not return to the normal talk and cleaning of gear. She stood off to the side, gently chattering to the babe. It had been a few days since either elleth had seen the other.

"I expect you to attend the interviews this afternoon," Thranduil informed his son. They were to select a maid to help with Tauriel. Although Galion had sent out word for a mannish nurse, the elvenmaid would be more of a rudimentary teacher for their language and customs to the elfling. Neither royal could keep up with caring for her constantly while also running the kingdom.

"Of course, adar," the prince responded. "I will bring Tauriel."

The king nodded to that before taking his leave. He wouldn't mind a quick nap himself before going to the interviews. The caffeinated tea had only helped so much to keep the elvenking going. Before leaving the guards, Thranduil inclined his head slightly towards the Corporal who held the gwinig, causing the poor elleth to flush. The corner of the elvenking's mouth tilted upwards before he returned to his chambers.

Chapter End Notes

So...yeah. Tauriel will have a title and lands. Just remember, Romeo also had a title and lands when he was banished from Verona. Which is a lovely city and has a great colosseum that is still in use. There is a great little gelato place near Juliet's house...

The next chapter should have the human maid and Thranduil publicly declaring Tauriel his ward.