Clues

Chapter Summary

The maid finds her position too easy for now, Thranduil is missing, and Legolas gets to play!

Chapter Notes

So...this started out with me really wanting some fluff and well, it turned into anything but. Maybe next chapter?

Really Bad Elvish:

The elves count the seasons differently then men. For them, there are six seasons. This will come into play this chapter so here they are.
ethuil - spring
laer - summer
iavas - autumn
firith - fading
rhîw - winter
echuir - stirring

Éothéod - "horse land" or what the people of Rohan were before Rohan
sanwe-latya - "Thought opening" or telepathy; while the elves can do this, the hröa affects it's use
Semini îr o orqu - Have sexual desire of/for an orc - lit. I leave it to you to figure out what that really means. ;-)

Yeah umm...I had fun trying to figure out Sindarin curse words for this chapter. Tell me what you think of this uh...particular use of Sindarin?

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Chapter 8: Clues

Angreneth found her job to be more dependent on the demands of the elvenking and prince than it was the constant demands of the gwinig that Galion sold her. She could go a day or even two with hardly needing to take care of the needs of the Lady Tauriel. If the elvenking or his son did not have her, then it was only due to the aphadon woman suckling the gwinig.

To some, this may have been a frustration, an impediment to what she believed her function to be. For an ancient elleth such as Angreneth, she found it freeing. She had small apartments next to the Lady Tauriel's and could come and go with relative freedom. Yes, she needed to be located at a moments notice should King Thranduil or Prince Legolas decide to not take the Lady Tauriel with them but that was so rare.

The apartments were furnished with her things that she had moved in from her small telian near the riverside. The decorator Mallowen promised to better design her chambers as well as that of the aphadon woman and her two children once the Lady Tauriel's were complete. The elvenking and his son gave up a few chambers of their own to make room for the survivor and her nursemaids. The second most formal sitting area of the king's apartments was now the aphadon woman's apartment. Angreneth had what was the prince's dining area.

It was still a bit surreal with the mirrors that decorated the walls. Mallowen had been kind enough to drape fabric over the ones in sleeping area. This, at least, allowed Angreneth to see what colors she actually liked in her room.

Each of the former royal chambers were divided up further with bits of screen, each elaborately painted. The Silvan elleth was impressed. The poor aphadon woman, Rohesia, was overwhelmed by the extravagance. She confessed to the elleth two days ago that she was terrified to leave the apartments out of fear of never finding her way back through the maze. The Éothéod woman had never been in anything larger than the village hall – which was scarcely more than a large room with a fireplace. Finding her way through the royal apartments and through the halls themselves bewildered the mortal.

Both being new to the halls and having a common job, the two females were bonding. Angreneth was nervous about befriending a mortal. Mortals die. That is the gift they are given – to leave this world for something else Ilúvatar prepared for them. Their entire life lasted only as long as it took an elfling to reach their majority. By the time the Lady Tauriel reached even puberty, Rohesia would have passed Mandos' halls and gone on to the fate of men.

Still, it was impossible to not notice the woman and her two children. Angreneth couldn't ignore them – they were to work together until the Lady Tauriel could eat soft foods on her own. King Thranduil, in his wisdom, brought Rohesia to make sure the survivor of the massacre at Solchbar thrived. And thrive, the elfling did. Though it had been a few days, the elfling already showed more energy and appeared to be growing a bit more.

Thinking on the elfling, Angreneth got up to check that she was still not needed. For now, the babe slept in her cradle, oblivious to any that may intrude upon her nap. Making sure the gwinig was comfortable, the ancient elleth crept back out of the room to her apartment. Perhaps a book and a cup of tea would be in order for the afternoon. She doubted she would be needed much today either as the Silva elleth saw the elvenking himself stride into the chambers she had just left.

Gwanweth was a liability. Nenneth was as well but it was Gwanweth that has been the head of the chambermaids. Chambermaids talk. They love to gossip. It was why Gwanweth had been placed in that position. She would hear before anyone else if the elvenking grew suspicious. Rather, that's what Beinion believed. Look what happened to that son of an orc.

He's left others to clean up his mess. Of course. He tried to fall on the elvenking's sword to make that traitor look like a kinslayer. That didn't work so while Beinion recovered in the healing halls, another plan formed. It's not hard to forge signatures if you have a few centuries of practice. It's even less difficult if you have some artistic ability. The note Beinion is said to have left wasn't by his hand. Another crafted that. He had become too much of a liability – just as Gwanweth was now.

Oh, yes, Thranduil did his little magic trick. He always did have a knack for taking something inherently bad and wielding it into something good. However, forgetting about the kinslayers was one thing. Getting nearly three dozen elves to keep to the same story in their heads was another. One of them would crack sooner or later. It appeared the first would be Gwanweth.

Dealing with Gwanweth was always interesting. The head of the chambermaid's position opened only because the previous head had been told to go visit relatives in Arda or she'd be sent forcefully to visit relatives in the halls of Mandos. Her choice. She chose Arda.

Nenneth's former lady's maid took up the position as a way to gather information. They needed a network of spies, particularly on the elvenking and the prince. Chambermaids were perfect for that. They had access to every room in the halls for cleaning. If anyone could observe the royals closely and yet have a completely credible explanation for being in a certain place and a certain time, it was a chambermaid.

Oh, there was the butler as well, Galion. The old venerable ellon actually liked Thranduil and Legolas. He was good for a bit of gossip over the latest wine, but most of his gossip was nothing that would betray the confidence of the royals. It had been all amusing stories and little in the way of substance. Lainodron's patron passed off Galion centuries ago.

Gwanweth also tried to gauge the butler in a few subtle ways. She had never gotten far. It didn't help that Galion was already married. It might have been interesting to see what would happen if Gwanweth seduced the much older ellon to a marriage bed.

But no, Gwanweth, didn't take any to the marriage bed. And now? Now her nightmares are filled with kinslayers and red hair. How long would it be until the former chambermaid's rantings included another name? One that had yet to be caught?

It was an interesting reaction. The enchanted stream should have worked perfectly on her – the noble knew that Thranduil did everything right- but it wasn't. Had she snuck some food that morning? Take a nap after being dosed? The second was more likely as there wasn't much entertainment in the dungeons.

Going past the guards was easy enough. Finding Gwanweth's cell wasn't hard either – particularly when you have access to the papers that list who is where. The problem was getting into the cell, alone, with Gwanweth without the elvenking knowing about it. There were charms, yes, that could be used on the guards but those may also weaken the elf preforming the charms. One can't be weak when about to send another to the Halls of Mandos.

What would Mandos say? Oh, yes, it was wrong. It was all wrong. It had been wrong for a very, very long time. This? All this plot to find a way to unite various elves of Greenwood against Thranduil and utterly humiliate and destroy him? Well, the elvenking had figured that out at least. It was never about the kinslayers – not for everyone involved, at least. It was all about exposing the arrogant scoundrel and humiliating him.

He really did have a way to take something bad and make it into something good. The kinslaying was inherently bad and yet, the public opinion of the elvenking had never been higher. Of course he took the little spawn of Fëanor's house to raise as his ward. That was just good public relations. It also served to protect the weakling for now. Guarded by the royal family? It was easier to break into Gwanweth's cell than it was to get into the royal apartments uninvited.

Approaching the cell, the noble saw one of the guards was Revion. That might make this easier. His hands still were raw from grabbing his own sword when Beinion ripped it from him. This could be exploited. "Revion, I am pleased to see you working once more," the noble smiled.

The guard blushed slightly but mumbled a thank your while giving his deference to noble. "Lady Siladhiel gave my release authorization a few days ago," the guard mumbled. The noble barely kept a grimace off their features. Of course that warg's whelp of a healer would have personally looked into it. She was another that do anything that Thranduil asked. Oh well, there goes that idea.

"It makes me glad to know that such an extraordinary healer is so kind as to look into your needs," the noble began. Both guards had their eyes on the noble but were overall relaxed. Pulling out a random scroll from their pocket, the noble held it up as plan b. "The signature Gwanweth gave on her confession is illegible. The archivists are complaining. I need be only a moment to get her admission to the treacherous plot against our king," the noble lied elegantly. Lying was second nature any more. It had been since the War of the Last Alliance.

Revion looked to the other guard before looking back at the noble, nervous and unsure. "I apologize, my…" the guard began. The noble cut him off.

"I must go to the king, I suppose. I do hate disturbing him. His ill temper is legendary in its own, is it not?"

It was the other guard, not Revion, that caved first. "It is just a signature?" the guard clarified. The noble smiled and nodded.

"I won't ask a single question. In fact, please leave the door cracked, if you allow. I would much prefer to go in and leave as quickly as possible," the noble stated.

Revion sighed under the pressure from both his fellow guard and the noble. "Please, only the signature," he said as he fumbled with the keys to allow the noble in. The patron of Lainodon smiled, clutching the document rolled up in their hands.

When the cell door opened, the noble kept up their smile and entered the tiny chamber. Gwanweth awoke quickly and her eyes went wide upon seeing who entered. She quickly looked beyond the noble, to see if there was anyone else entering. When anyone had come to question her, it had always been in twos.

The noble held up a finger, covering their lips, silencing Gwanweth from saying a single word. She nodded and watched with wide eyes. "I just need your signature. The one on your confession is illegible," the noble supplied. Taking it as a cue, Gwanweth walked over to the small desk where the noble unrolled a document. Her eyes colored in confusion as she was the document for what it was for – nothing more than a list of the court cases for the day. When she raised her head to voice her protest, a sharpened quill came flying into the side of her neck. Gwanweth tried to fight but quickly lost all energy as her blood flowed out. Her fëa was leaving her hröa. The entire scuffle lasted less a minute.

Rather than scream for help, the noble knew they needed to make the guards forget who had even been in here. Of course, it was ridiculous to think that they hadn't heard the scuffle. Revion and the other internal palace guard came in, looked at the noble and the former head of the chambermaids in shock. As if an actor on one of those stage plays, the noble looked terrified.

"I…I don't know what happened! She took the quill and stabbed…" the noble began as they backed away from the dead body. When both were kneeling over Gwanweth's hröa, the noble near drowned them with waters from the enchanted stream. It was a good idea to always keep a couple of vials on you. You'd never know when the elvenking would want one.

Straightening and grimacing at the work, the noble looked down to the blood on their garb. That would be an issue and the primary one for now. The guards should have had enough of the enchanted water to forget the past few months. It wasn't something the noble would worry about for now. Too bad Thranduil remembered the memory spells and the noble didn't. Damned, arrogant sod.

However, someone finding the guards like this would alert others that there was still a threat to the throne amongst them. It would be heavy work, but it was the only way to rectify the situation. Dragging one guard and then the other back to their posts was back breaking in itself. The noble made a sweep around the cell, carefully positioning Gwanweth so it looked like she stabbed herself with the quill. They were exceptionally careful to not step in the blood.

Backing out of the cell with care, the noble took the keys from Revion and locked the door before placing them back. It was then they noticed the blood on Revion's hands. Grimacing more, the noble found a refreshment station and carefully washed the blood off both guards as well as the noble themselves. It smelled of lemon and mint this time. Was that Galion? It sounds like something he might do or suggest.

Speaking of Galion, maybe it was time to get an empty wine bottle or two and put that near the guards. Make it look like they were drinking on the job. That should cover up this mess well. Content with this plan, the noble went towards the wine cellar to see if there were any empty bottles. If not, they'd happily empty a few just to spite Thranduil. He did so hate it when his favorite vintages were low.

Revion awoke in front of a cell door. That was rather odd. The last he recalled, it was the harvest festival and he was hoping to sneak a kiss from Cadwariel. Also, why did his hands hurt as if he had a paper cut that someone dumped lemons on to? Looking at his hands, he saw the pinking skin and he could smell…lemons? That did explain part of the issue but only brought forth a thousand more questions in his mind.

Turning to see if anyone else was around, he saw Cuinor nearly wrapped around a wine bottle and fast asleep. With that, even more questions came forth, unanswered. Why was a member of the border guard helping to guard a cell door? Who was in the cell? Why did they both fall asleep? The hair on both their heads looked as if it were still drying. Did they drink that much wine that he cannot recall upturning the refreshment table and dumping it on their heads? Considering he couldn't recall how he got here, Revion was a bit beyond confused.

He stood and looked into cell through a small window. His eyes near fell out of his head. On the floor, laid an elleth, drenched in blood. There was no glow to her, her fëa long since departed. "Semini îr o orqu!" he mouthed before running to get help.

Galion wished he was interrupting the little scene before him with happy news. Legolas, having no qualms about how he should appear based upon his station, was sitting crosslegged on the floor. Next to him were two ephadyn children, one of whom was helping to make a rather impressive wooden block castle wall. The other was trying to bite the blocks. In a chair nearby, the aphadon woman sat, biting her lip, as she suckled the Lady Tauriel.

"Galion," the woman said, bowing her head. With that, Legolas looked up. The moment the prince saw the look on the butler's face, he stood in a rapid motion, accidentally startling the youngest aphadon child.

"What is it?" the prince commanded.

"I cannot find your father," he said in westron before switching to Sindarin. He knew the ephadyn didn't understand it. "There has been an incident in the dungeons," the butler continued.

Legolas looked to the gwinig who was still suckling at Rohesia's breast and then to the woman herself. "When she is done, please find Angreneth should you need her," the prince told her before quickly following Galion out of the room.

His brow furrowed, Legolas grabbed his own sword hilt before leaving the apartments. "What has occurred?" the prince inquired as he placed his sword on his hip.

"Gwanweth is dead," Galion supplied quickly but there was a hesitation to his voice.

"How?" the prince asked incredulously as he started to walk again out of the royal apartments and towards the direction of the dungeons.

"It appears she stabbed herself in the neck with a sharpened quill," Galion began. "A swan's feather quill."

Legolas mentally questioned that. Swan's feathers were reserved for the nobility. His father gave them out as gifts. While it is possible that someone gave theirs to Gwanweth – Nenneth perhaps- or that Gwanweth stole it off an interrogator, it seemed unlikely somehow. All interrogations consisted of two interrogators. To see if Nenneth gave hers to Gwanweth would be easy enough.

"I want a search of Nenneth's former rooms," the prince began. Galion stopped him.

"Vain Glossien already ordered it. They found Nenneth's quill right where she said it was," he supplied.

Continuing to walk and mull this information over, Legolas knew of only one other thing that would need to be done. "I believe my father is going over the confessions with Lady Colleth, Lord Alagos, and Lord Hallon. They should be either in Lord Hallon's residence or in the archives themselves," the prince supplied. Galion took it as a cue.

"I will bring him immediately, my lord," the butler bowed before running towards the archives. It was closer and there were probably a lot more than just those four going over the confessions.

At the entrance to the dungeons, Legolas paused. There was already a great deal of activity. He looked for familiar faces first and saw Cuinor being checked out one of the healers. Revion was near him, speaking to an investigator.

"I do not know what happened. We did not partake of the wine!" Revion shouted at the investigator.

Trained to be calm, the investigator looked right back at the internal palace guard, "Then why were you asleep? Why were their bottles found at your feet?"

Revion was about to answer when he saw the prince. "Your highness!" the guard exclaimed, bowing to the prince. The others gathered around did the same, all turning to him except for the healer.

Legolas, going to the healer's side but staying out of the way, asked, "How is he?"

"He is an idiot but he will be well," the healer answered plainly. Cuinor grimaced. "Truthfully, sister…"

The healer glared at her brother. "I'm not the one who stumbled over an empty wine bottle and sliced up his leg," she informed both the prince and her brother.

Legolas gave a hint of a smile. So this was Cuinor's big sister, Gellandis. He had heard Cuinor speak of her before.

"Your highness?" the investigator asked. Turning back to see both this ellon and Revion, the prince only gave a questioning glance. He looked too much like his father when he did that.

The investigator straightened and spoke, "So far, it appears these two are derelict in duty."

Stopping the investigator, the prince began his own questions. "How long since the hröa of the elleth was found?"

The investigator blinked. Revion answered. "Roughly half the hour has passed, your highness. I awoke and I have been told it is echuir; is that correct?"

"It is nearly ethuil!" the prince supplied.

"I can only recall the harvest festival, my lord," Revion responded. This intrigued the prince. First the swan feather quill and now the possibility of waters from the enchanted stream? For only a bath in its waters could make you forget the seasons.

Turning back to the investigator, the prince inquired. "How do you believe them to be derelict?"

"They admitted to sleeping on the job and…" the investigator began.

Angrily now, Legolas spoke, "Did you not hear? Revion has forgotten of what season it is. That is not from sleep less it be from the waters of the enchanted stream."

"If anyone got close enough to…" the investigator tried only to be cut off again. Cuinor whispered something to his sister that Legolas nor Revion could pick up. However, the internal guard saw the healer nod to her brother in awe.

"Do you not see that their hair is recently dried? Do you not smell the lemons and mint? There are a number of ways a traitor may get close to the guards to dose them with the waters without any failing on their part," Legolas retorted with a hint of venom in his voice. He was one of the individuals that oversaw the internal guards and he will not have one of his own falsely accused.

"…Lemons and mint?" the investigator asked hesitantly.

"Vain Glossien's idea. She likes the infused waters for refreshment," Gellandis provided.

The investigator closed his eyes. Yes, putting enough in the water meant for both the guards and the prisoners would cause sleep. It wouldn't be a dereliction. "My apologies, your highness, Revion, and Cuinor," the ellon bowed low, his hand covering his heart.

Legolas accepted it and turned back to Cuinor. "Do you too believe it to be firith still?"

Cuinor shook his head but did not look up at his prince. His sister answered for him. "The idiot believes it is laer. He woke up asking me for strawberry pie." Cuinor scowled but said nothing. He didn't dare – his sister could and would make Mordor look as if a holiday spot; she was the most terrifying creature in Arda as far as he was concerned. Of course, she had been there for him when their mother sailed after an orc attack took their father.

A bit later, Legolas made his way down to the site of the investigation only to witness his father already there and speaking with Vain Glossien. Thranduil came as quickly as he could with the other council members hurrying in his wake. Leaning against the wall near both the elvenking and Vain Glossien was Lord Alagos. Lady Colleth was slightly behind and up the hall from Thranduil. Even Lord Hallon came, though he was ordering a scribe to take down notes on all things said and seen, as well as get copies of the investigation reports. Lord Hallon demanded everything to be copied and copied again. It was one of the reasons his department commanded the most amount of space in the halls.

"And the guards?" Thranduil asked. He had already learned that it was impossible to tell if Gwanweth stabbed herself or if she was killed by another from Vain Glossien.

"I have spoken with them, adar," Legolas interjected.

Turning his head to acknowledge his son, "Legolas."

"It appears they had the waters of the enchanted stream poured over their heads and possibly put into the refreshments," he informed his father.

Thranduil quirked a brow but said nothing on the matter. Galion had told him when seeing the bottles of wine that one was the last of that particular vintage, opened three days ago. Whoever conducted this assassination of the former chambermaid was desperate and sloppy. It was someone the guards trusted – that Thranduil trusted- and was most likely one of the nobility. That did not help to pin point the individual for there were still hundreds of nobles of both Sindar and Silvan heritage. Trust is an odd thing; exploiting it can be easy if you knew enough about the individual or the work they did. Scowling, the elvenking turned so that his back was fully to Lord Alagos. "Out!" he thundered. "I will have Vain Glossien as the investigator and Lord Alagos present!"

As many of the various individuals attempted to gather their things and leave, the prince only sent a questioning look to his father. Thranduil dared to answer back using sanwe-latya towards his son. He didn't bother, usually, as it would drain him a bit given how damaged his hröa was from the dragon fire. "Not you, Lessig," he spoke in his son's mind, carrying his love for his beloved son, the worries of what was going on, and the frustrations of a traitor still in their midst. Legolas nodded once, sending back on his own feelings of love for his father and a willingness to help in anyway he can.

Once most everyone left, including Lady Colleth who tried to argue as the head of Justice, she should also be present, Legolas stepped forward to his father. "Revion and Cuinor were not derelict, adar. It had to be someone they knew."

"I know," Thranduil spoke softly to his son.

Sighing, Vain Glossien tried to find any way to discover the criminal. "If Lord Hallon can provide a list, I may be able to discover who should have a swan's quill," she tried.

Thranduil shook his head slightly. "The traitor could have acquired it from any of the empty rooms or, as Gwanweth was the head of the chambermaids, it could easily be said she pilfered in prior to her imprisonment."

Vain Glossien's face fell a bit but she knew the elvenking was correct. She could not take that having or not having a quill as a sign of guilt.

Thranduil entered the cell, knowing far too many have already been in and possibly destroyed the tracks. Still, there may be a clue here that has been overlooked.

Legolas followed with Vain Glossien staying just inside the cell door. Her father, Lord Alagos, guarded the outside. The body of the elleth had been taken out by the healers to prepare for burial or prier. She would not be buried within the kingdom but may just outside their realm. Thranduil would give any family she had a place to morn.

Gwanweth's blood still drenched the area where a small table lay smashed to the ground. Had there been a struggle? Did the guards hear? The elvenking saw his son following the lines as well – someone dragged the bodies of the guards out. Dragged, not carried. Someone weaker? Someone smaller? Or was this an attempt to frame another individual?

"Adar?" Legolas questioned. Thranduil shook his head; he was unsure as well.

"My lords?" Vain Glossien spoke to gain their attention. She had picked something off the stone floor and held it between her fingers. Both the elvenking and the prince moved closer to her. In her fingers was nothing more than a torn corner from a parchment with only a letter and a half on it's face. It could be a clue or it could have been one of the many archivists in a rush to leave. Or, even, the kinslayer could be an archivist. Was not Telerynon part of this conspiracy and not once hold a high position as an archivist under Lord Hallon? There were too many questions and not enough answers.

"Keep hold of it as it may yet prove insightful," Legolas told Glossien. She nodded and placed it into a handkerchief she kept in her pocket.

With one more sweep, Thranduil stormed out. There was still a traitor at large and one that now had killed off a fellow conspirator. Yet, there was no way to track this individual with certainty. Just as Thranduil moved past Lord Alagos, he heard Legolas call out again. "Adar!"

As the elvenking turned back, Legolas came out in a hurry, holding a single metal bauble. Attached to it were bits of sky blue silk thread. None of the individuals Thranduil had seen today had such upon their garment but he felt he had seen such a bauble recently. Turning to Vain Glossien again, Thranduil spoke, "Get one of the archivists to draw this bauble. I want copies of the picture for the guards to take and to inquire if anyone has seen such an item either at a merchants or upon a person."

Vain Glossien took the bauble from Legolas carefully and bowed. "Immediately, your majesty."

Lord Alagos came to walk besides his daughter. "You are not going to the archives without me," he commanded. Vain Glossien lost all her professional mask and near rolled her eyes at her father.

"Adar, truly?" she bemoaned.

"I will not have you visiting that Linron fellow not matter the cause," he flustered.

Vain Glossien put on her prettiest smiles and looked her father straight in the eye. "Try and stop me then," she dared before heading straight to the archives.

Once they were gone, Legolas turned to his father. "So it was the archivist?" he inquired.

Thranduil's mouth twitched. "Indeed. Lord Alagos is taking it well, given his personality. I doubt he'd let one of the maia themselves court his daughter," he teased.

Legolas smirked before heading back towards where he left Revion and Cuiron. "Do you wish to join me father? Perhaps the guards will remember more in time?"

Slowly, Thranduil moved to join his son. He wondered what he would do if Legolas ever showed a serious interest in anyone. He hoped he would be better than Lord Alagos – though, as he was learning, it was different with daughters. Now that he had a tiny elleth ward of his own, he wondered what he will do if she ever shows an interest in anyone. Tauriel will hopefully grow to have good judgement and, thankfully, she is only a gwinig for now. He had centuries to worry about that yet.

Chapter End Notes

And now, the noble has screwed up - or have they? Who will get the blame for this particular kinslaying?

I'll try to get the fluff in the next chapter. Since elflings can fully speak by the time they are one human year/two elvish years old, I want Tauriel to say her first word soon!