She could barely register the words, fearing that it was somehow a jest, a cruel joke and that if she would get her hops up, she would be most brutally let down when reality crashed in. But Lossenel reacted, jumping to her feet in a move so fast that sent a bunch of papers and mock flower arrangements flying from the table and scattering over the marble floor. Her sister was letting out an incomprehensible cry, her hand rushing to grasp the fabric of her dress by her chest, the widest of smiles growing on her lips.

"Is it true? Are they certain? Will he recover entirely then?" Lossenel was grilling Tadion, nearly running in his direction, the later not even having a chance to properly step into the room, the door still half open behind his back.

"Yes, they are certain." Tadion confirmed, his smile matching Lossenel's, his eyes growing wide and tripping on his feet as the Princess suddenly slammed against him, crushing him in a hug so tight that nearly sent Tadion falling backwards.

"There is still no telling whether he will recover entirely, or if some of the wounds will prove troublesome for a long time still or leave any sort of permanent damage given their nature. But Melnor announced his life was out of danger. He will get better." Tadion kept talking, his clear blue eyes shining so brightly that it was hard to look away, finding hers as he spoke.

And only then did she dare smile, suddenly unable to contain it any longer, letting out a short laugh of pure relief that made her feel as though the air was breathable again after long weeks of being choked. The Crown Prince would live. That was all she cared about, all she could think of, the thought dancing over and over inside her mind. Her eldest brother would get better.

"Can we see him now?" She found herself asking, her voice betraying her eagerness, rising to her feet and rounding the table in order to reach her siblings side.

"No yet." Tadion shook his head, but did not seem in the slightest bothered by his answer, as though he could wait as long as the healers demanded them before being allowed to see his eldest brother. And she found that she shared the feeling, the only that mattered was that Ar was out of immediate danger, the rest could wait. "He is still unconscious. The healers estimate that it will be a couple of days still until he is strong enough to wake. They are keeping constant watch until then, to make sure nothing catches by surprise. They intend to keep Lady Indilene holding onto him until he wakes, just out of precaution."

"That is wise." Lossenel nodded her head, her sister too seeming unbothered by the extended wait, her delicate pale hands brushing over the skirts of her dark blue dress, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles.

"Nonetheless, you two should get changed." Tadion's voiced danced across the room as he threw them a pointed look, his face becoming serious once more.

"What for?" She asked, her eyes travelling to down to look at her dress, trying to recall if there was some sort of event she was meant to attend that day, and only laughing as the thought crossed her head. She attended no events. The last one she had been to had been the Winters Solstice.

"The trial." Tadion announced with a dry tone, already turning around to head out of the room, in some kind of rush. "It is about to be resumed. We should be there."

The trial. She felt as though a heavy weight had suddenly settled on her stomach. She had forgotten about that entirely, did not even know there was a date set for when it was to be resumed, and suddenly all she could see was the crazed look on the red-haired elf's eyes, the manic expression on his face.

"Today? It was not set for today…." Lossenel trail of thought seemed to be following hers, for her sister's platinum head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed questioningly in Tadion's direction. "Why the rush? Why not wait?"

"There has been a long enough wait already." Tadion answered simply, his voice oddly calm his stance suddenly taller, a Prince in his own right. "Ada wants the matter to be dealt with soon and suiftly."

"You mean, Ada wants it resolved before Ar wakes." Lossenel called out in a low voice. It was not a question. It was a statement. And for a second the words hung lightly in the air Tadion's clear blue eyes fixed on his older sister, as though he had known she would say just that.

"Yes." Tadion finally nodded, his eyes momentarily cast down towards the floor. "He wants the traitor gone, either dead or banished, by the time Ar regains consciousness."

The way he said it puzzled her, not understanding what one thing had to do with the other, or why he suddenly looked somber, his smile no longer in place.

"Does it matter?" She furrowed her brow, searching from Lossenel's to Tadion's face, trying to understand whatever it was they most certainly did. "Does it matter whether the trial takes place before or after?"

"Yes, it does." Tadion nodded his head, his face grim, golden hair trailing over his shoulders, and for the first time she noticed that it had already been properly braided. "The timing of it makes a lot of difference. If Arahaelon is in any state to speak by the time of the trial, he then has to testify against the traitor. Whether it be publicly in the trial itself, or privately only to the Council, he needs to make a statement of the traitor….crimes….so that the sentence can be properly decided. And then, there is the possibility that he might want to attend to the trial himself, in which he gets a say on the sentence that is given, he can agree to it or disagree and bend the Council's hand to reconsider."

"How could Ar possibly be able to attend any trial at the moment?" She could not stop her question, the notion of it seeming ridiculous to her. He would be able to leave his bed until the Valar knew when! It seemed absurd. Nobody would drag him down to the throne room in his condition either!

"That does not matter." Tadion answered quickly, waving a hand gracefully in the air. "If Ar states he wishes to see the trial, then it is set. The trial is then postponed until Ar is fit to attend. It does not matter whether that be days or years."

"So what Ada intends is to prevent Ar form having to make a statement, from having to testify or attend the trial at all." She concluded, and based on the grim look that crossed Tadion's face.

"Yes." Her brother nodded, one of his hands ghosting by the doorknob, not yet turning it. "If Ar is still unconscious then the trial continues as it is, and the sentence can be placed based the healer's reports on Ar's injuries and whatever the elf confesses to."

"That is the best option." Lossenel added coldly, her face suddenly hard, as though only the mention of the traitor in question was sending her into rage. "Leave Ar in peace. He does not need anyone pressing him for a statement or to even talk about what happened. He does not need to be reminded of anything. I think Ada is doing what is best, let the matter die before Ar has to take any part in it. Do you really thing Ar will want to talk about it?!"

No. She had not doubt that Arahaelon would not talk about it. She could follow her sister's reasoning, had no doubt that it was the same reasoning her own father was following. To protect Arahaelon, from sparing him to having to deal with any of the things that related to his capture, preventing from having to describe what was done to him, from having to see that elf again. And yet her eyes looked straight into Tadion's, finding her own thoughts reflected in those clear blue eyes.

"I think it is unfair." She found herself saying, watching as Tadion's eyes drifted towards the floor for a second before returning to hers. He agreed. She could read it on his face. And suddenly she felt anger coursing through her veins. "I think Ar should be able to decide whether he wants to take a part in it or not. Whether or not he wants to talk."

"The Council is perfectly capable of reaching a verdict without a testimony. And in this case the healer's reports are extensive enough that there is no doubt the elf in question is guilty. He has no chance of being declared innocent, Rëa. There is no need for Arahaelon to be put through more stress by forcing him to relieve such events!" Lossenel defended fiercely, and even then it did not manage to convince her, her anger only rising.

"Would he be obligated to testify?" She was surprised at how calm her voice sounded, her eyes fixing on Tadion's.

"No." Tadion shook his head slowly, on based on the surrendered manner with which he handled the entire case, she suddenly had the feeling that he had already made his argument and lost. Tadion was not so passive, not while he thought he could still get results. "He can decline and not say anything. But if he does that then he is in a way absolving the traitor, lessening the sentence. The healer's reports lose some of their strengths if Ar does not defend them."

"Then it should be his choice." She stated, even though she knew there was no point to her arguing, it would not change a thing. And still she could not keep quiet.

"What he needs is to be left in peace." Lossenel hissed. "He does not need to be reminded of any of it. Have you already forgotten how he refused sleep because of the nightmares that kept haunting him?! He should be allowed to forget that anything ever happened."

"But it did happen!" She lost her composure, her voice rising slightly, ire coursing through her body like venom. "It did happen! Why is it nobody ever wants to admit things, talk about them?! Why is it always a game of pretending?!

"ENOUGH!" Tadion's voice drowned all sound, forcing the words to suddenly die upon her mouth, facing instead her brother whose face was suddenly stern and commanding, suddenly looking powerful, tall. "I agree with Almarëa, but whatever our thoughts are, it is of no consequence. The decision is the King's, and it is final, and Ada has declared the trial to continue today. So I advise you to get changed and head to the throne room or you will be late."

He did not wait for an answer, throwing them a look that suddenly made her feel small and childish, looking at the moment so much like the King that the resemblance was hard to miss. And then he stepped out of the room, leaving them to themselves without a second glance, the echo of his commanding voice still bouncing off the walls.

She vaguely remembered leaving Lossenel's bedchamber, or walking to her own to get into a slightly more elaborate dress. She was not even aware of walking downstairs through the long corridors of the Palace, or of Lossenel walking silently beside her, not talking to her. What she did remember was reaching the grand throne room, and noticing how full it was. It seemed that every noble lord or lady who had not attended the previous part of the trail had suddenly decided to come to this one, to see the judging being passed and the sentence declared.

They were so many. How did they even reside at the Palace at all? There did not seem possible for there to be enough room for all of them. And somehow there was. And once again they were all dressed as though fit to attend a feast, with embroidered with gems and dresses of the most expensive silks and velvets and satins. A low murmur roamed the large hall, like the rumble of faint thunder, eyes turning in her direction, muttering quietly left and right.

She ignored them all, the fire in her veins still strong enough to fuel her motions, not caring about the glances that followed her as she made her way through the center aisle, just as she had done last time. Tadion was already there, taking the seat directly to the right of the throne, which was still empty. Her brother too had changed, wearing splendid robes of a pale blue that made the color of his eyes jump into view. Legolas was there as well, just beside Tadion, wearing a set of olive green robes that she found particularly suited him.

More than half of the Council was there again, she watched as she took the same seat she had the last time, the farthest to the left: the last daughter. Contrary to the rest of the lords and ladies, the Council members were silent, their eyes and faces fixed in blank looks as they faced the front, as if not allowed to share any thoughts among themselves before the trial officially started. She recognized a few of them, although not by name, but had seen their faces, remembered them from the first half of the trial.

They did not have to wait long, and sooner than she had anticipated, all the twelve chairs set just below the steps to the throne were occupied by their respective lords. A cutting silence settled through hall only minutes after, her father stepping through the doors. No, not her father: The King. He looked tall and imposing, a figure that was not be crossed, dressed in all the splendor that his position demanded him, with the crown of silver leaves resting regally over his head, silvery hair falling in a dazzling waterfall down his back. There was not a moment of doubt on his step as he crossed the length of the hall, every move so graceful, his sole presence commanding power and authority. The lords and ladies all respectfully bowed as he passed them, the Council members all rising to their feet. She followed in a rush, just as she noticed Tadion, Legolas, and Lossenel doing the same.

The Elvenking took his place on the throne, the blood red mantle he carried draping over it stunningly, the rings on his fingers glittering under the candlelight. And then the doors were closed. The sound scratched the walls and hit the stones, just as the heavy wood was sealed shut by the guards flanking it. So the Queen was not coming.

"Bring him in." The King's commanded, his voice calm and yet carried such command that even a deaf man would follow it.

Four guards entered the throne room then, the doors barred behind them to prevent anyone from exiting. There was a sickening clinking of chains, a figure partially dragged forward by the four guards in question. The elf looked worse than he had before. He did not appear to have been starved or deprived of food or water, but his appearance was disheveled, his hair a mess and his face dirty. And his eyes, those eyes that had already been mad and wild looked properly insane. He seemed like an animal, more than a rational being, standing like a pig for slaughtering as the guards deposited him right in front of the Council, by the steps of the throne, in the middle of the room for all to see. There was more metallic noise as the guards secured the chains tied to the elf's hands into some hooks at the nearby columns, before swiftly stepping away, to prevent the elf from attempting anything dangerous or deciding to run.

"There will not be a trial today." The King's voiced echoed through the room, making heads turn left and right in confusion, a soft murmur going around the hall before quieting abruptly as the King raised a commanding hand. "Enough evidence of Arvellon's crimes has been gathered by the healers, and their reports are extensive. Whether he acted by his own hand or stayed complicit to whoever was acting, the crime is considered the same. The Council has already read and analyzed such reports and have reached a decision. I will now allow the Council to announce their veredict. Lord Halcanar, you may proceed."

The King motioned with an elegant sway of the hand, his eyes burning with seething rage as he looked down at the shaking and maddened elf. She had never seen her father so angry, it was as though he was fighting to stay in control of himself and not jump down from his throne and tearing the elf's throat open with his own hands. In the middle of the room the accused elf looked suddenly terrified, his wild eyes growing as large as orbs. So as mad as he was, we was not yet so insane as to not recognize the anger in his King's eyes.

The Lord with the dark hair and brown eyes that had preceded the first part of the trial rose to his feet, his robes a dark burgundy and flowed down his figure like wine. His face was perfectly blank, unfolding a scroll he had been holding in his hand, his voice suddenly carrying over the hall, deep and steady.

"After careful deliberation of the evidence presented and confessions gathered on the previous trial held, the Council of the Greenwood declares Arvellon Taerberion guilty and responsible, by first hand or aid given, of the crimes against His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Arahaelon Thranduilion, including participating in his capture, imprisonment and injuries which undoubtedly indicate torture."

The dark haired lord paused to take a breath, every eye and ear focused on his figure. The elf accused was completely still, his eyes wide, face ashen.

"For such crimes," Lord Halcanar continued, "and pending the final decision, to be announced by His Majesty, the King, the Council has decided on punishment by death."

There was a sudden wrack through the hall, muttering exploding suddenly left and right, as the dark haired lord unrolled the long and held it up as if to show evidence of his words to all the eyes in the room. She could not read it, even though her eyes could perfectly see every single letter written on the parchment, but she did identify what was unmistakably twelve signatures at the bottom of the scroll, belonging to each council member.

She felt rooted to her chair, her knuckles holding onto the golden armrests so tightly that they must have turned white, but she did not look down to confirm it. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see her siblings, all his faces so perfectly composed that it was impossible to decipher their thoughts. Down, by the steps of the throne the maddened elf had suddenly turned deathly white, shaking on the spot, all attention turning to the King.

So the Council had decided. Death. And it was only up to her father to pass or not the sentence. It was his decision now, accept it or reject it. She could taste ash inside her mouth, suddenly dry. She could hardly believe what she had heard, what had just been said.

"Have you anything to add in defense?" The King's voice cut through the muttering, bringing the throne room to instant silence once more, his icy blue eyes, colder than the harshest of winters, fixed on the sentenced elf.

And then another sound coursed the room, so chilling that it made her skin crawl and her eyes see ghost. At the steps of the throne, the maddened elf let out a laugh, a cold, low, and wild laugh so manic that it would impossible to erase it from her mind. The elf's wild eyes were looking at the King, suddenly resigned looking like someone who had finally lost his mind.

"Kill me, then." He spoke, the voice as chilling as the laughter, sending shivers down her spine. "You, oh mighty King, and your precious little Council. You have no idea. Fools all out you."

The elf laughed again, his head lolling back on his neck until she though it would break from it.

"I would rather you kill me now, than having to face what will come for you. For all you." The elf's tone became dangerous suddenly, his eyes suddenly burning, hisses escaping his mouth. "You see, I would take death any day over the fate that awaits you all. And it is all BECAUSE OF HIM!"

The elf's cry tore through the room, his voice breaking from the strain, spit falling from his mouth. A few of the bystanders jumped back in surprise, and fear, the elf's hand suddenly pointing towards the King, shaking finger extending in the air. His wild eyes danced across the room, looking at all of those present, one by one. And the silence was crushing.

"He who dons a crown and calls himself King!" The elf spat, eyes looking through the room, his finger still pointed menacingly in her father's direction. "You stand here, all of you, judging me, when it is another who should be receiving a sentence!"

The guards at the edge of the hall shifted, hands falling on pommels of swords, ready to be pulled out if needed. She could feel the change in the atmosphere, the air suddenly tense. And still the King seemed unfazed, his face so perfectly calm, staring at the finger raised in his direction with the serenity one stares at a landscape.

The elf might as well have sentence himself. There not a stupidest thing to do than to claim judgement on the King, accusing him of anything. And yet here the elf stood, desperate enough to resort to that. And it was not death eh feared, it was not his sentence which he wanted to escape. In fact, he wanted it.

"He is no King." The elf spat again, shaking his head, addressing the room as though desperate for all those present to listen to him. "He does not care for any of you! For the realm! HE HAS BROUGHT DEATH UPON US, AND RUIN THROUGH HIS DISGRACEFUL ACTS! AND HE SITS HER HERE! GIVES HER TITLES, CALLS HER HIS DAUGHTER!"

"YOU HAD NO RIGTH!" The elf turned his face back to look at her father, his head turning so quickly on his neck that she feared it would snap. "SHE SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN BORN! SHE IS UNNATURAL! SHOULD NOT EVEN BE CALLED AN ELF! YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO CREATE SUCH A THING! TO BRING DEATH UPON OUR REALM! TO TURN THE EYE OUR WAY!"

"The Eye will not turn on the Greenwood, while it is looking for something far more precious!" Lord Halcanar silenced the elf, his voice loud and steady, commanding, and she could see in the Lord's brown eyes a fierce glare that seemed intent on defending his King, if not entirely honestly at least true enough to make a public display out of it.

She could not move, was not even sure she could breathe. The elf let out another fit of low daunting laughter, his eyes looking dangerous and vicious as he glanced at the dark haired Lord.

"Oh, but you are mistaken. The Eye is already here." And his pale shaking finger rose in the air one more, pointing directly at her.

Hello everyone! Here I leave the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it! And sorry for the cliffhanger! I will try to make the next update quick!

Thanks so much for your lovely comments to: gossiphurl, princes of lorien, Silver Grace, dreamgoneby, SiofraMarina, hannahjg, Luna, auris-ausralis, HelloDenmark and Tintcalad.

I would still love to hear more thoughts on this for all of you who would like to humor me! But I will share with you the most common answers received at the moment. I will later let you know what House I imagine them in. Let the sorting begin, the most common answers are: Ar: Ravenclaw; Lossie: Slytherin; Tadion: Gryffindor: Legolas: Hufflepuff; Almarëa: Hufflepuff.

Stay safe everyone!

Love,

Elena