Court

Chapter Summary

In this chapter, we meet the nurses, Tauriel is introduced to the court, and Thranduil lies through his teeth.

Chapter Notes

I absolutely love the comments and kudos! Please, keep them up! They make my day!

Bad elvish up front!

Éothéod - "horse lands" or what the people of what will be Rohan are called at this point. This is still a bit before Rohan or Dale become things. Rohan has about 100 years and Dale won't be a thing for another 150~200 ish.

...Probably should mention that Erebor is a thing but it's mostly been left to rot at this point. Thror won't come down from the Grey Mountains (dragon problems) for a couple hundred years yet. Third age history before the Hobbit and LOTR is wild.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Chapter Seven: Court

Life was hard. Living was harder. Rohesia learned and relearned this lesson every day. Her husband had passed in a logging accident two autumns back. He had been the one to bring in the coin. It hasn't been much but it allowed them to live with full bellies, a roof over their heads, and a bit besides. That bit she kept in an old honey jar was long since used up. Though, she still counted herself lucky.

The summer before the accident had been a bumper crop of berries and fruits. Rohesia preserved them and had jams and jellies galore. They still had jams and jellies but that wasn't enough to live off of. The bit of flour she had in an old sack was getting thin. Really, so was she. She doubted her husband – bless him- would recognize her now.

As long as she still produced milk for the babe, she was fine. Although, he'd be getting off the breast soon. She was worried about how to supplement his meals in addition to her eldest and her own. There wasn't much work she could do with the small bit of land she had. If they had another good season this summer, maybe she could sell off some of the extra jams, maybe. Still, it wouldn't be enough to fix what needed fixing around the house as well keep them warm.

Living near the edge of the elvenking's woods was not an easy life. Once, this little house so far from town and from others seemed like a dream. Now, it seemed like a trap. It was only Rohesia and her two sons – neither of whom were yet of age.

It would be a good five years yet to even start Saba in an apprenticeship. He was only a few years older than the babe, Eudes. Rohesia watched both her children from a half done with chair in the middle of her cabin. She was mending a few items with the last bit of thread they had. Maybe if she pulled a few threads from her nightclothes, they might be able to make do for a while yet without another expense.

She shook that thought from her head the moment it entered. The grown woman realized how ridiculous she was being. There was a job she could take. She had been in the village square just the other morn with her two boys. One of the wood-elves came by, posting a flyer for work for any who were capable. According to the elf, they needed a woman who was still nursing to help with an elvenbabe. The poor elf-man seemed genuinely shocked when he heard that hardly any in the village could read the signs he was posting. Learning letters was not a priority among the Northmen.

It was a job; one she could do. That is if that really was all the job was. The elves were strange folk and who knew if they said one thing and yet, meant another? Why would they need a woman to nurse an elvenbabe? What had happened to the child's mother? Looking to her youngest, Rohesia wondered – had the elvenchild's mother died much the same as her own childrens' father? Certainly, even elves can have accidents.

"Ma, I'm hungry," Saba informed her, biting his bottom lip. The poor child knew that they were struggling. Seeing her child look to the cabinets where what was left of the jams and jellies were with covetous eyes broke something in her. She was keeping her children in this barely livable home for what? Her husband couldn't come back from the dead. She had no ties here – her family was scattered as were many of the Northmen. The only things she had of value were her two children.

Slowly, she stood; a decision made. "It's alright, Saba. Want the raspberry jam on some twice baked bread?" she asked as she made her way to the kitchen. Yes, she would go to the elvenking's halls and inquire about the job. It is not as if she could not return to her house in a week's time if the posting proved false. It would be an adventure for her sons and herself. Hopefully, it would be an adventure they would long remember.

She took in a breath and blinked. Rohesia had never seen anything such as the entrance to the elvenking's halls. The bridge alone was wide enough for horses to ride side by side and led to the elaborately decorated columns and several tall gates built into the hillside.

The elves themselves – far taller than her – had stopped her on the road to the palace. They were dressed in a variety of greens and browns with quivers and swords about them. Rohesia was nervous at first but the elves were all quite kind and had played with her sons as they escorted her to the halls.

She had not with her but a wooden crate of clothing for herself, another for her boys, the slightly better than a wheelbarrow cart, and the old ox to pull the cart. What little food they still had, she also brought.

Steeling herself with the babe on her hip and her eldest's hand in hers, she followed the escort to the entrance of the elvenking's halls. She only prayed to whomever was listening that it was the right decision.

Thranduil was in the midst of writing down all the provisions that he wanted for Tauriel. Later this afternoon, he would make the official announcement of taking on the survivor of the orc attack at Solchbar as his ward. The traitors had all been dosed with waters from the enchanted stream last night. None had told him, Legolas, Lady Colleth, Vain Glossien, or Lord Alagos anything new in the past three days. Now, anything they might have known would also be lost.

It was unfortunately, but necessary. For them, the story would be that each of the traitors backed Beinion in his attempt at a coup. It wasn't far from the truth and their minds would make up how they came to be part of the coup. The part about kinslayers of the first age is what Thranduil had erased.

Suddenly, Galion came running in. Pausing in his writing, Thranduil raised his brow at his butler and the very hasty bow he gave the elvenking. "My lord, my apologies. It is your advert for the aphadon woman," he stammered.

"Yes?" Thranduil led his butler.

A gleam in his eye and a twitch of a smile, Galion stood straight before his king. "One has arrived," he stated.

Thranduil drew up at that and walked around his desk. "Where is she? Have you spoken with her?" he questioned. Both the elvenking and Legolas were worried – it had been well past a fortnight since the gwinig had her mother's milk. Lady Silhadiel informed them that she was healthy overall but small. Without both her mother and father to raise her, to encourage her to grow with their own fëa, she would already have some issues. Thranduil would eliminate any possibility of anything else affecting the survivor poorly, if he could.

"Yes, my lord. She has two references from the ephedyn village not far from the lake. Cuinor of the Maite Company mentioned he met the woman a few days ago in the village. She appeared to be of a good reputation but, like many of the ephedyn, cannot read," Galion informed the elvenking as they walked.

"Cannot read?" Thranduil questioned before heading out of the royal apartments.

Noticing the elvenking's furrowed brow, Galion continued, leading them towards a small sitting area typically reserved for tradesmen to discuss trades between the Greenwood and their settlement. "A common problem, my lord. I have taken the liberty to assess her in other ways. She is intelligent but has not been formally taught," the butler informed him.

Upon reaching the door, Galion paused before opening it for Thranduil. A brow raised in question upon the elvenking's face, the butler hesitantly added, "There is something else I should mention, my lord."

Thranduil waited. "Her name is Rohesia and she has brought her two sons; Saberct and Eudes," Galion began. Noticing the easing on the elvenking's face, the butler continued, "They are seven and two winters old."

Wanting to laugh at his butler's hesitancy for bringing up that it would not just be one mortal but three, Thranduil's lip quirked before entering into the tradesmen's sitting area. "I would not expect her to be able to nurse Tauriel unless she had recently had a child of her own," he informed Galion. Turning to his butler, after briefly seeing the back of the woman's head, he did ask one further question in Sindarin. "Of her husband?"

"Passed, my lord. Two autumns back," Galion informed him.

Thranduil's face became somber but he said nothing more. Rather, he strolled around the rather plain but sturdy furniture to see two children quietly sitting on a braided rug, playing with wooden horses. The younger of the two was more teething on the horse than he was playing with it. Perhaps a bit of carved willow bark might help the youngster until all his teeth cut through.

He glanced over at the woman. She was petite, even by the standards of the ephadyn, but pleasant enough in appearance for a Northmen woman. Her long dark hair was already doted with gray that Thranduil could see as she bowed. The dress she wore had seen better days.

"My king? May I introduce Rohesia of the Éothéod. She has come to inquire about the care and feeding of the Lady Tauriel," Galion declared in Westron for the sake of the aphadon woman.

The woman stayed bowed but gestured for her eldest, at least, to stand and bow as well before the great elvenking. Her youngest simply looked up at him…and up still more for Thranduil towered over the small human toddler.

Thranduil took a seat – he would need to speak with Lord Rhîwon's assistant about getting slightly better furnishings for this area as well as this chamber came under both the Worker's Council and the ministry of the Emissaries. Of course, asking Lord Rhîwon himself was out of the question. The poor ellon was still beside himself with the death of his son.

Having to drug the lord as well had not been an easy task. Thranduil almost wanted to craft the story Lord Rhîwon wished for – that his son had fought as a protector and died valiantly. However, that would not work with the memories the lord had and the elvenking couldn't change every memory to fit the wished-for narrative. Instead, Aravar died now when ensuring the orcs did their job and killed all in a village as part of the coup. Get public opinion low enough against the elvenking and it's easy to take the throne from him. Destroying a village destroys the public's trust.

The aphadon woman looked up towards the king. He waved his hand to give her leave to sit, but she quickly averted her eyes and continue to bow slightly, saying nothing. Really, Rohesia was unsure of what to do or say. She had never been before royalty of any sort before and had rarely been in the presence of elves. Even the room they let her and her children wait in was nicer than anything her eyes had beheld before.

"You may sit," the elvenking informed her as Galion went to ensure refreshments were being brought in.

Quickly and slightly clumsily, Rohesia obeyed. She sat on the edge of her seat, her hands folded neatly in her lap, eyes cast downward. She may not be sure of what to do, but she knew you did not ever look royalty in the eye!

"You have been told of the position?" Thranduil asked as he half watched the woman, half watched her children on the floor. The eldest had clothing that appeared to have been for someone else and then made to fit. The youngest was only recently breached, by the looks of him. It is too bad the ephadyn grow and age so quickly; the elvenking would have liked for Tauriel to have a playmate about the same age as herself.

"Yes, your majesty," Rohesia murmured. She dared not look up for what she had seen of the tall elvenking, he was far too handsome to look at. She felt as if an orc amongst such beauty as the elves. At least she had been given a room with a bath to clean up in before meeting the king, even if she had felt silly about learning how to get water into the tub. Plumbing was a magical wonder to her.

"The elfling who may be your charge," Thranduil began, though, they had only received few inquiries from the ephadyn settlements. This aphadon woman was the first to even arrive and it had been a few days. Tauriel needed a wetnurse if she was to grow as the elvenking hoped.

"Is of importance to myself and my kingdom. We have managed to feed her with a mix of goat's milk and softened bread crumbs but my healers do not believe it to be enough. If you take the position as her wetnurse, you will be asked to undergo a physical examination by the healers."

Rohesia nodded. The butler had mentioned something of the healers in this elven kingdom as well. They wanted to make sure that her milk was not spoilt or otherwise lacking, the aphadon woman was sure. Wet nurses weren't common in the village but she had heard of such in the cities where the noble women would have their children to suckle on another breast rather than possibly deform their own. She had thought such ridiculous fancy but also had heard of cases where the mother perished in childbirth. Was that the case with this elvenchild?

"If I may, your majesty," Rohesia began nervously.

"You may," Thranduil voiced aloud for the poor aphandon woman dared not look up at him for any non verbal clues.

"How come this child is in need a wet nurse?" she tried to ask as politely as possible. Perhaps it was not that the mother had perished. Rohesia knew the ways of the elves were different but, amongst her own kind, it isn't as if there weren't noblemen who had illegitimate children that they cared for in their own homes along with their legitimate ones. Was it, as with her own noblemen, that the elvenking found himself in a situation where he could not formally recognize the mother but the child was his own? She couldn't imagine that an elvenmaid was much different than her own people in that one of the lower classes might throw themselves at the king given half the chance. He was stunning to behold.

Thranduil was quiet for a moment before he answered, "Both her parents were killed in an orc attack." It was the official story and both Tauriel's father and mother were killed in an attack, it was simply there weren't any orc.

"I am sorry, your majesty. Were they kin of yours?" Rohesia couldn't help but ask.

Yes. "No," the elvenking carefully answered. Distantly related as far as elves were concerned but not of any immediate lines.

"She was the only survivor of the attack," he added a bit more quietly as way of explanation as to why a king would take in such a child. It was something he would have to repeat over and over to both himself and others. No matter how much he wished to acknowledge Tauriel as an elfling of both his ancestral line and as kin to his son, he would never be able to. The kinslaying showed him that. While he was sure there were more who were part of the plot, no more had become apparent. The cover-up was now near complete and the gwinig's identity would be forever concealed; not just in the kingdom, but also to those outside of it. The brother of his father's father and his wife can never know.

"She has no da or ma?" Saberct – Rohesia's eldest- asked incredulously while playing with his brother and a couple of wooden toys.

"Saba!" Rohesia hissed. She had told her child to be quiet and mind his brother while she spoke with the elves.

Thranduil held up a hand to Rohesia to quiet her protests at her son. "She does not," the elvenking answered the aphadon child honestly.

The young boy bit his lip – a habit learned from his mother no doubt- and looked up to the elvenking. "I don't have a da either but I do have my ma," Saba informed the elvenking.

"Saba, I told you," Rohesia began, exasperated by her son's behavior. Thranduil waved away her concerns. The elvenking did not expect a child of any race or people to understand protocols of court. The young one was hardly being rude at any rate.

"You do, indeed," the elvenking mused.

"And the baby? She needs a ma to make sure she doesn't go hungry too?" Saberct questioned the elvenking with the curiosity in his voice that only a child can hold.

Doing his best to not chuckle at the child, he nodded and kept his face neutral as possible. It was a way of looking at the situation, he supposed, from a child's point of view. It was something the elvenking would have to get used to again as Tauriel would grow and ask questions of her own.

"She does," Thranduil informed the child.

The young boy sat back down and bit his lip again before taking one of the wooden horses to play with. "Alright, but you should know not to let my ma make pickled fish. It's disgusting," the boy stated seriously although his nose scrunched up at the very memory.

"Saba!" Rohesia warned him again.

A small smile played at the elvenking's face. Perhaps, having mortals in his halls would prove quite interesting and distract both him and his son from the recent plots. Having more children in the halls, even if they were not elflings, would be a blessing in itself.

Legolas wore his silver silk court attire cut more in the Silvan manner than the Sindar or Noldor. He had complained of the length before in the longer robes and how he had no wish to learn how to both wear such garb and fight in it. Thranduil, rather than force the issue or point out that he'd probably never have to fight during court, let his son wear a shorter tunic in the richer materials. It ended up going well with the public who already saw the prince as the more approachable of the two royals. Thranduil was seen more as a just and wise ruler, but untouchable or ill tempered to the less charitable.

Tauriel's maid, a Silva elf named Angreneth, was an older elleth who remembered so far back as the coming of Thranduil and his father, Oropher, to the Great Greenwood. Then, the Silvan did not count time as they do now and she wasn't sure how many seasons or solar years she had seen before that. Her skin was nearly as dark as her hair, indicating her Avari blood. She was a pleasing darkened bronze with only slightly darker hair. Her hair was clearly Silvan in nature.

Today, Angreneth presented Tauriel in a dress the color of a robin's egg, embroidered in the richest of coppers that nearly matched her hair. Based on how her eyes were starting to darken as well as the slight change in her hair, the copper just might be what color her hair ended up. That worried Thranduil. Of Fëanor's twins, was it not Amrod's hair who turned a darker red? Would this not be yet another clue later in the gwinig's life of her own paternity? Thank the Valar for her large ears that marked her Silvan!

"Your majesty, your highness," Angreneth greeted them softly while holding out the tiny – and rather fussy- elfling. Tauriel was alright around this new elleth but she clearly was not thrilled with her either. The gwinig would raise her arms – and sometimes her feet still- with coos and laughter if she even heard the royals now. For her nursemaid, well, Thranduil hoped with the tiny elleth it was just a matter of getting used to yet another new elf. He wondered how the gwinig would be around the aphandon woman as well.

After the interview, the elvenking instructed Galion to have Lady Siladhiel herself look the woman over and ensure that neither the hopefully nursemaid nor her children had any signs of illness. Thranduil was particular concerned with the younger child as that is the one she still been suckling – if he was of ill health, could that mean such may be passed to Tauriel as well through the milk?

Legolas reached for Tauriel, who made a series of happy noises to see the prince. It had been agreed that Legolas, Captain Feren, and Corporal Nanessa would present the gwinig as the survivor of the massacre since they were all present at the flet garden. Only Legolas' memory was not tampered with when it came to the reason of the massacre. Thranduil promised himself never to change his son's memory ever again after the incident at Gundabad. He could not do that again.

Watching his son with his ward, Thranduil only turned away to speak with Angreneth. "I have hired an aphadon woman to help with Tauriel's feeding and care," he informed her. The older elleth looked displeased by this but said nothing. Legolas, now gently tossing the gwinig in the air, smiled. "Truly, ada?"

Thranduil nodded once. "The woman's name is Rohesia and she has two little ones of her own though the youngest is just now coming of an age where he no longer needs his mother's breast," the elvenking informed his son. Turning back to Angreneth, he straightened his sleeves. "Do make her feel welcomed to these halls as she will not only serve the Lady Tauriel but will be here to help you as well," he informed her.

Angreneth's face relaxed a bit as she realized the royals were not replacing her. Stories already circulated that it was due to the gwinig's cry that the tûr of the decorators, Lainodron, had his great falling out with the royals. She doubted that to be true, particularly after being amongst the royals themselves and even speaking briefly with Mallowen who now was designing the rooms for the elfling and the elfling's maids. Considering the amount of times the gwinig did whimper upon seeing her new maid, Angreneth was more inclined to believe that Lainodron had hurt or insulted the child.

Even for a Silva, the ears were particularly large. The hair, the one curl that Angreneth had managed to tame now sticking back up due to the prince's attentions, didn't help the poor elfling. Still, the babe would grow into her ears and elfling's hair could be tamed; her face was fair and she had all the signs to be quite lovely once she grew up.

Thranduil moved towards the entrance to the royal apartments, Legolas following and half tossing the gwinig to her delight. Stopping only for a moment, the elvenking did not even turn to speak to his son. "Legolas? Do not toss Tauriel. It will wrinkle her rather lovely dress," he pointed out before pushing open the doors.

Chuckling, the prince tucked the babe into his arms. "Yes, ada."

They arrived at the throne room a few minutes later. It was already packed with many of the populace wanting to see this survivor that only rumor so far had told of. The royals, the gwinig, and her maid all stayed slightly hidden in one of the many back entrances to the throne itself.

At the front of the throne stood the inner palace guards and, just beyond, some of the nobles. Mostly, it was the ministers and important department heads that were to the front of the audience. The inner palace guards were supplemented today by the territorial guards, such as the Maite and Doron companies. It was all voluntary but many jumped at the chance to see the survivor formally recognized. It was better to be assured of a spot in the throne room while guarding than it was to take your chance on getting in while in your civilian garments.

Legolas smiled when he saw Captain Feren and Corporal Nanessa waiting for them to arrive in the hidden little chamber beyond the throne. Both the captain and the corporal bowed to the royals. "Your majesty, your highness," the captain greeted them.

Thranduil nodded and gave them their leave to stand. While he spoke with his herald and Galion, Legolas moved Tauriel to a position so she could see both Nanessa and Feren. Tauriel, after the incident with the decorator, no longer squeaked her annoyance of the captain but clearly did not trust him either. Instead, her tiny fists clung to the prince's collar as she questioningly babbled to Nanessa.

"Greetings to you as well, gwinig," the corporal smiled. The tiny creature reached for the elleth but, for once, the prince didn't hand her over. Instead, he adjusted her against his side, still half cradling the elfling with his right arm.

"When the ceremony is complete, either I or my father will hand her back to you. Angreneth, her maid, should be at the back of the hall if you wish to surrender her," Legolas teased slightly. Nanessa was one of the very few Tauriel seemed to like completely. He doubted the corporal felt any differently to the gwinig and would easily hold her the rest of court.

"It will be an honor, my lord," the corporal stated truthfully. That she was even allowed to be part of the court proceedings today in anyway was an honor to her.

Turning to address the captain, Legolas teased, "I would hand her to you but we do not need to have her voice being raised during court." The corner of Feren's mouth turned down in a vexed manner. He wasn't sure of the survivor any more than she was of him. Really, the captain just didn't know what to make of a creature that could not communicate it's wants or needs beyond emotional reactions. Maybe in a century or two, he would be more comfortable around the strange thing.

Nanessa giggled only to suck in her lips to prevent further embarrassment – or insubordination based on the look the captain gave her. Though, she knew, she wasn't in any real trouble. The captain did not seem to mind being the subject of many a joke lately.

"Ready?" Thranduil called attention to his son.

Legolas nodded and moved to cradle the gwinig in his arms again. "Yes, adar."

The sounds of the horns made Tauriel jump and start to cry. She soon had multiple individuals trying their hardest to prevent a sob while the prince quietly barked orders to not sound the horns again during this session of court. The populace and guards parted so the elvenking could make his way to his throne; his herald calling everyone to attention and explaining that they would all greet the survivor soon. Stepping on to the platform, Thranduil sat elegantly on his thrown, his blue velvet robes for the day swirling around him.

"As you may all have heard, there was a horrendous attack to the south in a village known as Solchbar," the elvenking began. He kept his tone even though he still broiled on the inside. Not only did he despair at the kinslaying that took place, he hated lying about it. However, he had to protect the survivor. He had to protect her.

"The attack was perpetuated by orcs on the words of traitors to us all. Beinion and his coup have failed in their mission to turn the kingdom into chaos and to eliminate all from Solchbar and beyond," he continued. The story itself was turning the elvenking's stomach into knots though he looked serene. The lies burnt nearly as bad as dragon fire against his conscious.

"Bring in the survivor!" Thranduil commanded. Seeing the elfling would calm him. It would help to remind himself of what all this was for.

Legolas entered, Captain Feren and Corporal Nanessa flanking him behind. Those closest to the small procession going up to the throne murmured as the prince passed with the tiny survivor safe in his arms. While some had seen her in passing and nearly all had heard of her, there was something different about watching the prince deliver her as the survivor of the massacre at Solchbar to his father.

Both the captain and corporal stood and knelt before the throne as Legolas continued his way up with Tauriel in his arms. The gwinig was looking at the prince with a great deal of confusion. She had no idea what was going on but she knew the prince, and was quite pleased when she saw the elvenking as well. "Here she is, adar," Legolas told his father, more for the benefit of the court, before handing Tauriel to Thranduil.

The elvenking felt his emotions calm. He smiled down to the small creature now safely tucked in his arms. "Do not fear, little one," Thranduil told her before standing and holding the gwinig out for all to see.

"Behold, the survivor of Solchbar. A symbol that evil may never triumph over us," he broadcasted out to the court. When the cheer went up, Tauriel hiccupped and began to cry, startled from the sudden noise. Thranduil quickly tucked her back into his arms with Legolas making sure he was also in the gwinig's vision. Seeing both, she quickly calmed, feeling safe in the elvenking's arms. Seeing the royals fawn over the tiny creature and the survivor suddenly calmed earned a few murmurs and chuckles from the crowd.

"As she has lost all due to the actions of the traitors, I decree she is to be given the lands forfeited by their actions and named a Lady of the court," Thranduil continued. "As we know not who her parents may have been, I have given her a new name. She will be a daughter of the forest, the Lady Tauriel. I name her my ward."

This time, as the cheer went up, the elvenking carefully covered her "leaf" ears and held her tightly against his chest. Rather than hand her back to Legolas – who was supposed to hand her to Nanessa- Thranduil kept her with him for the rest of court. Tauriel- now officially a Lady- was quite content to fall asleep in his arms halfway through all the procedures.

What few saw was one of the noble's fists tightening. The white knuckles clenching and unclenching the fabric of their court garb. The ridiculous peacock of a decorator was right; red hair and bat ears. To those unacquainted with any other than the Silvan and Sindar, the survivor passed as Silvan. To those that knew of the Noldor and, in particular, that proletarian farrier who took a Sinda lady to his bed, it was obvious what this creature the king doted on was; a daughter born to the house of Fëanor.

There was nothing the noble could do now. There were too many eyes and too much suspicion already. The noble would need to play this out for years, even centuries. Creating a rift between the survivor and the king would take work already but it was possible. It was possible to destroy any alliance with a few careful words. When the daughter of the woods was old enough to question what house she belonged to, it would be easy to create tension and exploit it. Get the king to dote on her and throw her away; just as he has done with others before her. Just as he did with this noble.

Chapter End Notes

Ack! Who is this noble and how are they slipping past Thranduil? Is it someone he already trusts or is it someone new? Something rotten in the woods of Greenwood!

If I forgot to translate something beyond gwinig and elleth/ellon, please let me know. I think I use those two so much that you've probably figured those out by now. :-)