Chapter Twenty-One

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SUMMARY: After a couple more interviews, Iola is finally brought before the King of Dale for interrogation, where he and Thranduil learn more disturbing details of life with their monstrous father, Ioan.

Bard passes sentence, and tragedy ensues. When will it all end?

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**TRIGGER WARNING** Mentions of physical, emotional abuse, rape and incest.

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The Woodland Realm; 19th of February, 2942, T.A.

The day began as most others have, since Thranduil became a father to three new children, and he loved it. Despite Tilda's illness, and all the worry, he wouldn't trade a minute of it.

This morning, he was helping her with her morning exercises.

"Just think, Tithen pen: you are doing so well, that in four days, we can dispense with the gowns, and you can come out and join us! What do you think of that?"

"I like it. When is the Elf coming?"

"Which one, hênig?" Thranduil asked her. "Daeron, or Meriel?"

"Meriel. She's nice."

"We like her, too. She is going to be here with you, during the day, to help you get stronger, and help you get caught up with your schoolwork."

Tilda looked puzzled. "But I can't hold a… "

"Pen? Pencil?"

"Pencil."

"Do not worry about that. You held your spoon better last night, did you not? The exercises you do with your blue ball, and wiggling your fingers are helping. Did you not notice, this morning, when you took five whole bites of porridge by yourself? Da did not need to help you."

The little girl smiled. "Uh-huh."

"Yes, you did. We talked about working hard, but only getting better bit by bit, do you remember?"

She nodded. "Little bits."

Thranduil kissed her forehead. "I am proud of you. You are a brave little warrior."

Tilda's face turned sour. "No fights."

"There are many kinds of warriors, Tilda. You fought your illness bravely, and now, you are fighting with its aftereffects. I think you are every bit as brave as the soldiers who protect us."

"They have swords."

"One does not need to have weapons, or wear armor, to be a warrior, Tithen Pen. There are many kinds of battles that need to be fought. You are working hard to fight yours."

Tilda considered this carefully. Thranduil's heart jumped, because this was a look on her face he had not seen since she had been ill. These small mannerisms, pieces of the Tilda they all knew and loved, were coming back…

"I don't want a sword."

"I will not get you one, then." He smiled as they finished up, and Thranduil handed Charlotte to her, before he began to massage her legs and arms.

Just as he finished, Meriel came in. "Greetings, Lord Thranduil, Lady Tilda."

"Meriel!" Tilda smiled.

"I am glad to see you, too. I see your Ada has done your morning exercises, so I was thinking perhaps we can draw on your slate for a while? Then, we could rearrange the pictures from your friends hanging on the wall. Did you have a good breakfast?"

"Aye. I held the spoon."

That is wonderful news, Tilda! We will be sure to mark your progress on our chart, so everyone can see. Would you like that?"

Tilda smiled and nodded. "Can we read?"

"Of course." Meriel turned to Thranduil and asked, "Has Lady Tilda done her hand exercises?"

"Not as yet, however she did fifteen in each hand last evening. Another sign of progress for the chart. That was a good idea, was it not?"

"I like it." Tilda beamed.

"I do, as well, Tithen Pen. We all do." He put his arm around her. "It is good to see your progress. I think it helps on the difficult days."

"Uh huh." She snuggled into him.

Thranduil kissed his daughter, then got up to leave. Your Da and I will see you at lunch. Be good, and have fun."

"Ada?"

Thranduil turned, and smiled. "Yes?"

"I love you."

The Elvenking's heart squeezed. "You are my joy, Tithen Pen."

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Thranduil dispensed with his gown, and went out to find Bard, who was waiting with Rhys. Sigrid and Bain were already off to school, but the boy was asked to stay behind for a short meeting.

"Good morning, Rhys." Thranduil smiled at him. "Did you eat a good breakfast?"

"Aye."

"I hope you forgive Lord Bard and myself for delaying you, but there is something important we need to speak with you about." He swept his arm wide in the direction of the door. "Shall we?"

He and Bard let the boy across the hall into his study.

"Have you ever been in my office, Rhys?"

"No, My Lord. It's bigger than I thought it would be." The boy took in the sight of all the bookshelves, the big desk, the couch and chairs by the fireplace, and the conference table, which was only slightly smaller than his dining table.

"Did you paint this?" Rhys pointed to the picture of hanging on the wall behind Thranduil's desk. "He's King…Oroph…"

"Oropher, yes." Thranduil smiled. "I see you've been learning a bit of Elven history. King Oropher was my father, and he established the Woodland Realm, when he came from Doriath with my mother. Galion was also born there."

You look like him; especially the eyebrows, but his hair is like Prince Legolas. I saw him a few times when we came to Dale. He and Tauriel helped us a lot at the Lake."

"I am glad to hear it."

"Your Da looks like he was a good King, too."

"Thank you, Rhys. He was a great leader of our people. I like having a reminder of all he taught me"

Bard led Rhys over to the couch. "Thanks for agreeing to talk with us, and, again, I want to make sure you understand that you're in no trouble. Thranduil tells me you've behaved beautifully since you've been with us, and I've not seen anything to argue with that."

Rhys still looked unsure. "Are you going to move me?"

Thranduil was quick to respond. "No, Rhys. You are my ward, and I enjoy having you with me. Lord Bard simply needs your help."

Rhys looked confused. "My help?"

"Yes. Lord Bard needs to ask you some questions about your grandmother and your aunt. He would not do this, unless it was absolutely necessary. I want you to understand that am here for you, Rhys, and if I see you become distressed, I will stop the meeting. If you become upset, you must tell me, will you do this?"

The boy's eyes widened with alarm. "I don't want to cause trouble."

Thranduil put his hand on the boy's arm. "None of what happened is your fault, Rhys. And no one will inflict harm on the ladies. We have merely discovered a few things that we need to understand better. The things you tell us, might actually help them."

Rhys looked down at his lap for a moment, then collected himself. "Well, I don't like thinking about it, but if you need me to help, I will."

Bard smiled. "You're courageous, like your Da. I can see why he's so proud of you." Then he continued. "We've spoken to your grandmother, and aunt, and I get the impression that one of them was much worse than the other, is that right?"

"Aye. Aunt Iola was much worse!" Rhys nodded his head. "She was mad, all the time, and she was always yelling. She even woke me up in the night, sometimes, saying I was bad."

"She did?"

"Aye. Then she would…"

Thranduil intervened. "You do not have to speak of that, Ion. There are other things we need to know."

Rhys sighed. "Good."

Bard remained calm and loose with the boy. "What about your grandmother? She did her share of screaming and yelling, too, didn't she?"

"Not really. She wasn't like Aunt Iola. She hit me a couple of times, but that was when Iola would make her. She said if Gran didn't do it, she would, and it would be worse."

The Bowman smiled at Rhys. "You're doing well. I've just got one more question, if you think you could answer it."

Rhys considered it, and Thranduil asked, "Are you all right? Is this too much?"

The boy said, "I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye. I want to help you."

"That's great, Rhys." Bard smiled. "Can you tell me if your Aunt Iola was ever afraid of your Gran?"

"It was the other way around. I think Gran was afraid of my aunt. That's why she did everything Iola said."

The two Kings looked at each other, before Bard said, "You've been a huge help. I appreciate it."

"Is that all?" the boy asked.

"That's all for me." Bard said. "You've told me everything I need to know."

Thranduil studied the boy, "You are well, Ion?"

"Aye. I'm good. What will happen to them?"

Bard shook his head. "I can't tell you that, son. Just let us take it from here, and remember that we're here to keep everyone safe, and that includes them. Your job is to work on your schooling. However, Lord Thranduil has something he needs to speak with you about, if that's all right."

"My Lord?"

Thranduil nodded apologetically. "I need to apologize to you, Rhys. The day I took you to the Healing Hall to be examined, I know I promised no one would know what the results were, but I must tell you that Lord Bard, as your King, has a copy of the report, and your father was also given a copy, because he is your parent. I hope you are not upset about that."

Rhys became slightly alarmed. "Why do you have to have it? I don't understand."

"At the time, Rhys, I was concerned about you. You were clearly in a lot of pain, and it was imperative that you see the Healer. You were afraid and felt ashamed, and I knew that you needed to have your injuries taken care of."

Rhys looked at them. "Did you tell everybody what was on the paper?"

"No, Rhys." Bard said. "It was only for our records, and they are confidential."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that the paper is locked away, and only a few people will ever have access to it. It will not be left sitting around for anyone to see. Does that make you feel better?"

Rhys nodded. "Was Da upset when he saw it? I didn't want to upset him."

Bard gave him a reassuring smile. "Son, he is a parent, and he loves you. He's going to be upset if you fall and sprain your ankle. So, yes, he was upset and angry, but not at you. You know that, right?"

"I just don't want him to worry."

"Tell me, when he saw you during his visit, did he act upset with you?"

"Well, he was upset because Lord Thranduil wouldn't let him see Gran and Aunt Iola."

"That's true, but when he came back to Dale, he told me he thought about it, and King Thranduil made the right decision. Rhys, I know you don't understand all this yet, but someday, when you marry and have children, I promise, you will."

"And you said Da saw the paper?"

"Your Da has a copy of it, yes. He's your parent and it's his legal right. But, you should know your Da put it away, and doesn't talk about it."

"So, no one read it out loud when you all had meetings?"

"I promise you, no one did." Thranduil told him. "Not here, and not in Dale, because you are entitled to privacy and respect."

The boy wasn't happy, but he seemed to understand. "I don't want all the other kids to know, and to say anything. I especially didn't want Sigrid or Bain to know, because they would just feel sorry for me, and that's worse. I just want to forget about it."

"They've never seen it, Rhys, and to their credit, and neither one has asked me what we saw in that room. Even if they did, I would refuse to tell them. Does that make you feel better, Rhys?" Thranduil asked him.

The boy nodded. "No one's said anything, so I guess I can see why you had to do it."

"I am grateful for your understanding. I take promises seriously, as I am sure you do, too."

"How do you feel?" Bard asked him.

"I'm good. I mean, I don't like talking about it, but if I can help you, I want to."

"Would you like a few moments, or would you rather go right to class?" The Elvenking asked.

The boy's smile was rueful. "I'd love to wait; there's a big history test, but if I put it off, I'd just have to take it later."

Thranduil chuckled, and went to his desk and wrote a note. After handing it to Rhys, he sent for a guard to take the boy to his class. "Give that to Mistress Bronwyn, to excuse your absence."

"See you at lunchtime!" the boy waved at them and was off.

"That went well." Bard said. "Now we need to speak with Lynne and Mona. They'll probably say the same thing, but I need their testimony."

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Within a few moments, the two women were sitting on the couch, facing the Kings.

"We want to thank you again, My Lord, for helping me and Mona out." Lynne smiled at her companion. Then she said, "Is it all right to ask how your young one is? We were so worried!"

"Thank you, ladies. She's improving a little every day, and we're hopeful."

Mona said, "We've enjoyed seeing Lord Thranduil with your children. I'm sure everyone tells you he takes good care of them, but we've seen it, too. He looks after all of us."

Thranduil graciously accepted their compliment. "I am happy to hear such kind words, and I thank you."

"How do you like weaving?" The King of Dale asked.

"Oh, it's really interesting work! There's so much you can do, and make and these Elves are real nice to show us different ways things can be done. Right now, we're learning to dye silk. Me and Lynne want to have our own business someday, in the Market."

"That sounds wonderful, ladies." Bard smiled at them. "Would you like some tea?"

"Oh, no thank you, beggin' your pardon." Lynne said, then looked at Mona, "You want some, love?"

"I'm good." The girl said, with a smile.

Bard crossed his legs, and became a bit more serious. "I'm glad to see you do so well, but I'm afraid there's another matter I have to discuss with you."

Thranduil sat back and observed his husband ask the women the same questions he had of Rhys, and framed them in the same way, to make absolutely sure of the answers. Of course, Lynne and Mona had much stronger feelings about the women, and didn't mind elaborating.

Their story also confirmed what they already heard: Iola was the main abuser, and although Ina was an unfriendly and demanding employer, she was not a necessarily a danger to them.

"Tell me, was Mistress Ina openly hostile? You said she wasn't easy to work for."

"No; she wasn't. She was miserable, and didn't seem to care about anything, any more. Mistress Ina never really yelled at us, she just wanted everything done for her; like she didn't know anything about making a bed, or mending clothes, or cook, or even how to shop. No matter what we said, or did to bring some cheer into that house, she'd just look at us, and walk away, all snooty-like. I don't think I've ever seen her smile."

Mona grimaced. "It was Miss Iola who as nasty as they came. I swear, if Lynne and me had anywhere else to go, we'd have left, but she threatened us. She kept saying she'd tell the Master and we'd never work in Laketown again."

"You're both very young. How long were you in their employ?"

"I started the day I turned seventeen, which was four years ago. Mona, here, came a year later, although she's two years older than me."

Bard nodded his head, and smiled, as they all stood. "Thank you. You've been helpful. Please don't worry about those two, they are no longer yours or anyone's concern. We both wish you luck with your training, and someday, King Thranduil and I plan to buy some of your fabric."

Both women curtsied and were escorted out by the guards

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Thranduil sat with Bard for several minutes in silence, then he asked. "Do you have any idea what you're going to say to that woman?"

His husband sighed. "The only think I can think of, is to confront her with the facts. I don't know what else to do."

"I agree. It is difficult to reason with someone who does not know reason." Thranduil frowned at Bard. "Do you recall your encounter with Thorin?"

"Aye. That was a waste of time, wasn't it?"

"It was not a waste, Bard. Thorin was given the chance for a peaceful resolution, and, more important, your people saw that you tried to avoid a war. You proved to your concern for them, and thus earned their loyalty."

Bard leaned over and kissed him. "You always know just what to say."

"I say it, because it is true." He smiled at his Bowman.

Bard got up and stretched. "How long do we have until lunch?"

"We have over two hours yet. There is plenty of time to get this meeting over with and avoid her running into the children."

"Are you sure?" Bard looked worried.

"Meleth nîn, if you plan to hold out for a productive exchange with this woman, there will never be enough time."

"Aye. You're right. I'm dreading this, but we can't put it off."

"I understand. I will send for her, and we will get it over with."

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In a few minutes Bard and Thranduil were sitting at the desk, same as yesterday, facing an unkempt, defiant Iola. Thranduil, now aware of the complexities of her life, was no longer angry, just sad that a life can be wasted so, and for the innocent lives that suffered from this madness.

Bard considered her in silence for a several moments, then spoke: "King Thranduil and I had a interesting conversation with your sister, Iola."

"Where is she? Where is my sister?"

"Your sister is safe, and she is well cared for."

Through gritted teeth, the woman spat, "She is NOT safe! She is never safe, unless she's with me! I protect her! Where have you taken her? What have you done with her?"

"What do you protect her from, exactly?"

"None of your business!"

Thranduil leaned forward. "You will NOT speak to your King this way! You will acknowledge his authority and respect his position, is that clear?"

Dior was positioned behind her, along with another guard, and he pulled her shoulders back, so that she was sitting up straight. "You will answer King Bard's questions."

Iola looked up at him in surprise. "You speak Westron?" she sneered, as she struggled under his grip. "Elven filth!"

Bard was on his feet in an instant, pounding the desk in fury. "ENOUGH!" He said in a tone Thranduil had never heard from him before.

Iola could not disguise her fear and shock, but all too quickly, it turned to rage, again. "Where is my sister? You've taken her away from me, and I demand to know why!

"You, are guilty of beating your great-nephew to a pulp. You have beaten your former servants, Lynne and Mona, and with my own eyes, I've sat here and watched you assault your sister. Do you have anything to say for yourself about such acts?"

She sat and stared at him, and, to Bard's credit, he met her gaze with a strong governance and determination. The contest went on for many minutes, but at last, Iola relented, and looked down.

Bard spoke again. "I am told your father was also a violent man. Is this true?"

"He did what he had to do." She said. When Dior shook her shoulder, she added, "My Lord."

"Why do you say this? No one 'has' to beat a child. The idea that one must 'beat the evil' out of the young, is a lie, Iola."

"My father did not lie!" She was defiant, again, but there was a hollow tone to your words. "He was a great man!"

"Do you say this because you think it is true? Or do you know, deep down how wrong he was, and are afraid to face it?"

The woman's face paled for a moment or two. Then, as if some sort of lever was pulled in her, and the denial returned. She was, again, angry and defiant. "I see what you're doing. You're trying to trick me, and I won't have it! My father was a good man! The Lord of Laketown respected him, which is more than I can say for your family!" she sneered. "Papa was everything to us."

"I know he beat you and your sister since you were small," Bard sighed. "I am sorry for your pain."

"You know nothing of my pain! If you did, you would give my sister back to me!"

"Ina is not a possession for you to own! She is a person in her own right, and should have the freedom to do and go where she pleases. You have no right to dominate her, or anyone else in that way."

"She is nothing without me. She needs me! She can't do anything without me!"

"Really?" Bard raised his eyebrow. "From what I see, you're the one who needs her, and you can't stand the idea of not having complete control. Isn't that true?"

She said nothing, but still stared daggers at Bard.

"You're so afraid to be alone, you've been lying to your sister, to convince her she's not capable of anything!"

"That's not true! She can't do anything. She needs me!"

"She does not need you! She doesn't need anyone who beats her spirit down to nothing, like you have! That is not love, Iola. If you truly cared about your sister, you'd never do that."

"You know nothing! I protected her! I looked after her when Papa –"

"When your Papa did what? Iola, beat the both of you for no reason? Nothing justifies what that man did to either one of you, and nothing justifies what you and that bastard did to Alun, and" Bard voice rose again, "Nothing justifies the marks and bruises that were found all over Rhys! NOTHING!"

Iola shook with fury. "That's not true! You're trying to trick me into thinking terrible things about Papa, and I won't –"

Bard banged his fists in fury. "Your father forced himself on both you and your sister, did he not? Does that feel like something necessary, or even natural? Is incest something that your Papa 'had' to do to you? He raped the both of you! Why can't you see that?"

Thranduil was shocked at the bluntness, but perhaps it was necessary to make this woman grasp reality.

Bard sat back and regarded the woman with slightly narrowed eyes, before he went on. "Iola, there was nothing, and I mean nothing, that justifies the abuse you and your sister suffered at the hands of your father. Your father did not want to beat the 'evil' out of you. It was his own evil, and he threw around the name of the Valar to justify his own sick impulses. He was the evil one, and he took it out on you."

Iola's face turned grey and she froze. She no longer looked at Bard; she looked through him. There was no sign of anguish in her face, but there wouldn't be, would it? She had been hiding her true self so deeply, Thranduil doubted she even knew who she was, anymore.

But Bard went on. "Your father, Ioan of Laketown, was a sick, twisted monster, and because of that, he severely abused you, and your sister. He brought agony and pain to Alun, to Rhys, and to Lynne and Mona. It all stops, here and now, do you understand? NO MORE!"

There was dead silence. Then Iola's response came in a form of a limp, defeated sigh. The expression on her face never changed, but the fight had left her.

Thranduil wasn't entirely convinced, though. This seemed just a little too easy…

"I have more questions, and you will answer them, is that clear?"

She managed to nod her head. "Yes, My Lord."

"What happened to your sister's husband?"

"He drowned."

"You know that's not true, don't you? Everyone in Laketown could swim before we could even walk. There was something else."

She nodded. "She wanted to leave me."

"Did your father know she and Alwyn planned to take the baby away?"

"No. I heard Ina and her husband whisper about it."

"You couldn't let her go, could you? If she did, you'd be left alone with your father, and things would be worse. Am I right?"

Iola looked down at her lap and swallowed. "She was going to leave me, and I couldn't let that happen. I needed to make sure she stayed with me, always."

"She owed you, for all those years, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did! Papa was wrong to bring that… man into our home…"

"But while Alwyn was there, your Papa didn't hurt anyone. Why is that a bad thing?"

"Because she was no longer mine! He came, and they had that… screaming brat, and he wanted to take her from me! I had to stop him!"

Bard tilted his head and asked softly, "What did you do, Iola?"

"I put belladonna in his drink. Then I told him I had a surprise made for Ina for her birthday, and asked him to pick it up for me. He didn't want to go, because it was dark, but her birthday was the next day and it was a secret, so he agreed to go."

"How did you get him in the water?"

"I knew the drug in the tea would take effect soon, so I followed him, and when he passed out, I pushed him off the walkway."

"You killed him."

"No. I had to make sure Ina stayed with me, because she's mine. That's a different thing."

"Iola, what about your father, how did he die?"

"I did it to make up for killing Alwyn." She said, in a flat tone. "I had to stop him, but I knew it made Ina sad. I wanted her to feel better." She looked at the Kings. "I'm the one who takes care of her!"

"What do you mean?"

"Alun was getting older, and I saw that Papa had begun to look at him the same way he looked at Ina, when she was young. I killed him for Ina. Papa stood outside of Alun's room one night, but he saw me, so he jumped away."

"What did you do, then?"

"I prepared Papa's drink that night, like I usually do. He liked his wine before bedtime. I put all the belladonna I had into his glass, and he never woke up. I loved Papa, but I had to do it, so I could keep Ina."

"Why do you say that?"

"If Papa had a special relationship with Alun, Ina might have left, and I will never let that happen." She looked at Bard with hard, angry eyes. "Where is she? You have to give her back to me!"

Bard paid no attention to her last request, stood up, and stated, with all authority: "Iola of Dale, you have just confessed to not only the physical assault upon your sister, your servants and your great-nephew, but to the premeditated murders of your brother-in-law and your father. I, Bard, son of Brand, heir of Girion, King of Dale, do hereby remand you into custody, where you will remain until the spring. You will then be brought before me in the court of Dale, to face me and all our people, whereby I, and a group of your peers will decide your ultimate fate."

Thranduil looked at Bard, and saw the sadness in his eyes. Any hope of a simple and quiet solution to this was gone. No one was going to Bree. Ina was in no condition to do anything of the sort, and Iola was a multiple murderer.

He rose to stand beside his husband, as Bard nodded to the guards, to bind her hands. Iola seemed docile, which continued to make Thranduil a little suspicious. Perhaps this behavior was genuine, but he had a sense it wasn't. But she had two of his best Elven guards with her; there was nothing more he could do.

"Take her away, Dior." Bard commanded. "Do not return her to her quarters. Take her to the dungeons, and lock her up. She can do no more harm, there."

"As you wish, My Lord."

The two Kings stood in silence until the prisoner left, and closed the door behind them.

"Bard?" Thranduil put his hand on his Bowman's back.

His husband just kept looking at the door. "I knew what she did. I knew it, but to hear it out of her mouth…"

"I know, Meleth nîn."

"She was so… calm about it. You were afraid I couldn't reason with her, but… she found cold-blooded murder perfectly reasonable and logical. I don't think I've ever seen anything so frightening in all my life, Thranduil."

"Sit down, Bard. I'm going to pour you a drink."

"I need one."

They sat together on the couch for a long while, in silence. Bard didn't lean on him, or even touch him. He just stared straight ahead and grasped his drink so hard his knuckles went white.

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Iola made sure to act as meek and mild as she possibly could, when the Guard called Dior bound her hands again. That filthy, Elven bastard! He knew all along what she and Ina had been saying, but what would one expect from and Elf? The whole lot of them were liars and cheats, and they were beneath her notice. And Bard, who pretended to be their King, was married to one of those disgusting vile beings!

No one was going to force her to accept such a thing, but she needed to play their game. They took her Ina away, and she was going find her, even if she had to kill every single Elf in this forsaken place! Ina was hers, and no one was going to get in her way!

Dungeons? Hah! She wasn't about to let herself be locked up.

Iola smiled her herself. They have no idea, do they? But they will soon enough; just find the right moment…

As they continued to escort her through the Palace, she made a big show of grasping her stomach and chest and saying how she didn't feel well… She even gasped a few times, and pretended to cry and be meek and mild…

Stupid Elves. They patted her down for concealed weapons, but they hadn't thought to look at the secret pocket in front of her corset, did they? It was sewn right next to the boning, so they couldn't feel it. They think they're so clever, don't they, but she was no fool, and they were about to see just how smart she was!

For weeks now, she'd been painstakingly working her mother-of-pearl handled nail file (It was her Mama's) against the stone walls in her bedrooms. She'd wake up in the night, and scrape, scrape, scrape it in the dark, until each metal edge was sharp enough to cut paper, and the tip could puncture even the coarsest of clothing.

Iola wanted to laugh out loud at her cleverness, but she knew she had to keep up the act. They didn't know, and she'd never tell them, would she? She was the only one who wouldn't hesitate to protect what was hers, and Ina was hers. She always was, and no one else would have her.

No one.

Not even Mama wasn't allowed to take Ina away. How many times did she try to explain it to her? But Mama would only laugh, and pat her cheek.

"You're such a good girl, to love your little sister so much."

"I love her, because she's mine!"

Iola didn't feel all that bad, when Mama died. It had to be done, didn't it? Papa had done all he could to remove the evil from her mother, but it was still there. She could see it, when Mama laughed at her. She had to pretend to be nice, so Mama would drink the special, sweet tea she'd made.

"I thought this might make you happy, Mama. Do you like it?"

"Oh, of course I do, my lovely girl," Mama had said. "See? I'm drinking it all up."

And she had enjoyed the sweetness of the special berries Iola put in it. Soon, Mama fell to the floor, dead, and Iola knew she'd saved her once and for all, from the evil. Papa would be grateful; it saved him a lot of work. It must be tiring to follow the Valar's will, and to stamp out the badness in all of them. No one could understand that; but Iola did.

She was Papa's "special girl…"

She knew Papa had special powers and even though it was hard, she let Papa do what was necessary. But sometimes, he got out of hand with her little sister. It wasn't his fault; he was just so strong. She knew that, until Ina was older, she'd have to protect her from him. Papa was a good man, who was only doing what he was supposed to! The Valar's ways are never to be questioned! He always said how the Valar would come to him in dreams and tell him of things that had to be done. Sometimes he had a hard time controlling the power he'd been blessed with, so it was Iola's job to keep him from getting out of hand.

Because she was Papa's "special girl…"

Of course, when Papa brought Alwyn home to marry her Ina, she was angry, but Papa said it was the Valar's will. He was right, as always. With Alwyn in the house, the evil must have left; Papa didn't need to work so hard to keep them pure. Then Ina gave birth to that… child.

Iola knew the time would come to look after the child, just as Papa had done with them.

Because, she was Papa's "special girl…"

But one night, she was coming back from the privy closet and heard them whispering. Alwyn wanted to take her Ina away! Thief! A thief and a liar! When she poisoned him, and threw him in the water, she felt such a relief, and knew the Valar would approve.

She had to protect her Ina.

Then, when Alun was about eight years old, she knew she was no longer her Papa's special girl. She saw him watch the little boy, when he was trying to read, and how he put his hands Alun's shoulders and gripped them a little too tight. Papa's smile was a little too eager.

So, it was time for Papa to be dealt with, so she could take his place. Ina didn't want to be like that with Papa, and it would make her sad, if he wanted to be special with Alun, so she took care of it.

When she and Ina stood over Papa's grave, she silently prayed to Ulmo and all the rest of the Valar for their help, as she carried on with the special mission of purity. She would make sure that her Ina and that…child, were cured, whatever it took.

Then they finally got their hands on Rhys, here in the Woodland Realm, her mission began with fervor. Papa was with the Valar now, and they sent him to tell her just what they had found in the boy's soul, and charge her with removing it. He told her how many lashes would take it out, so he could be good, again.

"You're my special girl, and I am trusting you with this," Papa told her in her dreams. "Iola, you have to save that boy."

They were in the middle of the long, high walkway, when she knew it was time.

"Aaah!" Iola pretended to grab her stomach, pulled her own legs out from under herself and fell to her knees, pretending to double over with pain, breaking the soldier's grip on her arm. "It hurts! I'm going to be sick! Please! Help me! I'm going to be sick!

The one called Dior and his helper quickly brought her back up and helped her to the railing. Stupid Elves. Didn't they see her take her small dagger out of her corset? No. Of course, they didn't; she was doubled over! And they also were too busy paying attention to her retching noises to even bother looking at her hands, where her little knife had cut through the ropes.

She whipped around and plunged it into Dior's chest. When the other guard grabbed her, it was easy enough to bite his hand and make him scream long enough to release his grip, so she could go looking for her sister. She stabbed the guard in the upper arm and broke free.

Then she heard it.

"Iola! Help me! Save me!" It was her Ina's voice calling to her, but she couldn't see her.

"Ina! Where are you? I'm coming!"

Her head whipped around, to hear where the voice was coming from. Across the deep cavern, she could hear the voice again. They must be keeping her Ina prisoner in an invisible room over there. Suddenly she saw it, and also saw the secret bridge, that Papa revealed to her.

"There she is," Papa said. "Go to her! Only you can see the it, my special girl, it's our secret. Hurry!"

She crawled over the railing and using all her strength, she jumped to her sister's rescue. As she fell to the depths below, her hand was still reaching out, screaming her Ina's name.

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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:

hênig – my child

Ion – son

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NOTES:

"Learned Helplessness" is a very real phenomenon that happens to victims of domestic violence: wiki/Learned_helplessness

If you are a victim of domestic violence, or know someone who is, please seek professional help. For those in the US, If you are in immediate danger, call 9-1-1. For anonymous, confidential help, 24/7, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) ...

If you have been a victim of sexual assault there is a completely confidential hotline, where you can receive support. Call 800. (4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.

For more information about this service, please check out the RAINN website: about-national-sexual-assault-telephone-hotline