Disclaimer: Not one Elf.

Author's Note: I've got the chapter splits sorted out and it looks like this is going to run to six chapters. There may also be one more very short coda-ish story, to wrap up some of the loose ends in this, before I get to the final part of the arc, which will be set after Practise to Deceive.

In the meantime, enjoy this!

Part III

27 September, Evening

"My King?" Saeldur asked as he followed Thranduil down the corridor.

"I think, if there is an answer, Legolas has it," Thranduil said by way of explanation. "Perhaps he does not even realize it himself, but he knows. Who else could know? Legolas knows who has seen him, who has handed him his draughts, who has spoken to him… He knows more than he told us earlier."

"Then it was poison."

"It was poison." Thranduil kept his voice low. "Feredir and Barancrist both confirmed it independently."

"Elbereth Gilthoniel. I had my suspicions… But I hoped I was mistaken. I did not want to believe that the healers could conspire to…" He trailed off.

"We do not know if they were involved at all. We only know that there was poison in the cup. Anybody might have done it." Thranduil sighed. "If Legolas had proof that someone tried to kill him, he would not have kept quiet about it."

"What do you intend to do, my King?"

Thranduil and Saeldur entered the passage leading to the royal quarters.

"Legolas will have an idea, even if he has no proof," Thranduil repeated. "His instincts are sound. I was hoping you might be able to help me persuade him to tell us what he suspects." At the door to Legolas' sitting room, he paused and turned to Saeldur. "You saved my son's life. I have not had the opportunity to thank you, but I hope you know how grateful I am."

"You owe me no gratitude, my King. Whatever I did to help Legolas, I did for his sake, not yours. Legolas is my friend and my brother in arms. There are no debts between us."

24 September, Night

Rochendilwen was glad to dismiss the archers at the end of training. It had been one of the most dismal performances she had ever seen. She did not want to be too hard on them – she understood that they were anxious about Legolas' delayed recovery.

All the same…

She made her way home, wanting to wash up before she went to see how Legolas was.

Her aunt was still awake, pacing through the sitting room as she only did when she was too disturbed to sleep. Rochendilwen suppressed a sigh. Lady Mídhaer was not the only one who had been unable to rest for the past few days. She, at least, was spared from the fear that kept Rochendilwen and her friends from a moment's peace.

A glance at her aunt's face, though, made Rochendilwen wonder if she really was spared from that fear.

"Legolas seemed tired in War Council today," Mídhaer said, her tone carefully casual.

"He is tired." Rochendilwen hoped to avoid a discussion that would ultimately help nobody. "He is trying to do too much."

"I daresay he is, but it seemed like more than that."

"As to that, I could not say."

"Rochendilwen." The edge to her aunt's tone made Rochendilwen stop and face her. "I am not a fool. Legolas is so exhausted I am frankly surprised that he manages to sit through the sessions without collapsing. Nobody sees him outside the council chamber. Celebwen is furious with everyone and Thorontur refuses to acknowledge that Legolas is unwell. Would you care to explain?"

Rochendilwen bit her lip. She trusted her aunt, she did. Lady Mídhaer was loyal to the Elven-king and fond of Legolas. But Saeldur was right. Nobody was above suspicion. She could not take the risk.

"You know Legolas, my lady. He will not listen to the healers."

"I know that Legolas is not as foolish as that statement would make it seem. He might chafe at restrictions, but he would not risk his healing because he was bored of being confined to his room." She sighed. "I understand, Rochendilwen, and I am not asking you to betray your commanding officer. But this cannot continue." She paused. "I hope Thranduil and Arbellason return soon."

"The King would hardly stay away at a time like this."

"The King has stayed away for days while Legolas, it seems, is having a belated reaction to an injury. I hope you and your friends have realized, Rochendilwen, that that indicates a high degree of competence in whoever is doing this. That Legolas did not tell Thranduil he was unwell is not surprising. I gather that Thorontur was willing to accede to his wishes. But a large amount of correspondence goes to the King's party every three or four days. I find it very difficult to believe that not one Elf has mentioned the fact that the stronghold is full of rumours that the Prince of Eryn Galen is dying."

"Legolas is not dying," Rochendilwen said fiercely. "But you are right, of course. I thought… to be honest, we all thought everyone believed it was Orc poison or a delayed reaction to his wound."

"Most people do think that, but Thranduil does not appoint fools to his council. To tell you the truth, Ellaurë did write to him when, after a couple of days when we thought he might be recovering, Legolas suddenly began to grow worse. She had her suspicions then."

"What did the King say?"

"Nothing," said her aunt grimly.

"I am frightened," Rochendilwen confessed. "It feels as though nothing we do is going to be enough. Whether we give the healers access to Legolas, or deny it… Elbereth. He needs more skill than we have, but… We are fumbling in the dark. We cannot lose Legolas." She looked at her aunt pleadingly. "Have you any idea who might do this?"

Mídhaer gave a short, bitter laugh. "I would stake a great deal that Míron is involved, but he is far too careful to be caught – and, in any case, he has not been near Legolas or any food, drink or medicine intended for Legolas. He has help."

27 September, Evening

Thranduil found Aeroniel and Rochendilwen engaged in what he hoped was a friendly re-enactment of some ages-old battle as Legolas looked on in amusement. They scrambled to stand at his entry, hastily smoothing down tunics and straightening braids. Aeroniel kept Legolas sitting with a hand to his shoulder.

Legolas was pale, but he looked far stronger than he had when Thranduil had seen him last. He was still smiling.

"As much as I hate to disturb what looks like an exciting contest," Thranduil said with genuine regret, "I must speak to you, Legolas. You may stay," he added to Aeroniel and Rochendilwen.

He sat, indicating with a gesture that Aeroniel and Rochendilwen should resume their seats. Saeldur pulled another chair up to the table.

"There was poison in the cup." It was best to be direct. He waited a moment. When nobody looked surprised, he went on, "Legolas, who did it?"

"My king, I would never… never dream of accusing anybody… without proof."

Legolas' voice was steadier as well. Thranduil took a moment to enjoy that before he pressed the point.

"Thorontur and Celebwen seem to think Calathiel did it. They tried to conceal it, but Thorontur forgets how long I have known him. What Calathiel thinks I do not know. I find it very difficult to believe she would poison anyone, you least of all. But I was not here. You were." He leaned forward. "I know you have no proof, Legolas. And I know you know who it was."

"Tell us and we can find proof one way or another," Saeldur urged.

"If I am… wrong…"

"Trust us." Saeldur reached out to squeeze Legolas' shoulder. "Do you think we are going to force you to live with the guilt of having had an innocent Elf condemned for treason? We will handle it, Legolas."

Legolas sighed. "Not Calathiel.

"No," agreed Thranduil. "She has faults, but the tendency to murder is not one of them." Even as he spoke, he felt his heart sink. "Celebwen?"

Legolas shook his head. "Never."

"Lady Celebwen would never hurt him," Aeroniel murmured. "She has always been fond of Legolas. It cannot be a charade."

"Trying… trying to protect… her daughter."

"Her daughter." Thranduil let out a breath. "Not Calathiel… Melda?"

Legolas met his eyes, half acknowledgement and half regret.

"I never imagined – I never for a moment supposed – she has always been the least… the least noticeable of Thorontur's children. I would never have thought she would involve herself in high treason. Elbereth Gilthoniel." A sudden suspicion assailed him. "Legolas, tell me you did not know she was poisoning you and let her keep doing it because you did not want to make accusations."

"Adar, no… I never… never suspected… anybody was trying… to hurt me… until…"

Legolas paused, struggling for breath. Saeldur took up the thread.

"Until I pointed it out to you," he murmured. "I suppose then you knew it had to be Melda. But she was going nowhere – Eredhion and Voronwë made certain of that. And you had no proof."

"We still have no proof," said Aeroniel. "I do not doubt you, Legolas, but how are we to prove that Melda is guilty?"

"Tax her with it." Rochendilwen's eyes were so dark Thranduil felt a moment's fear that she would hunt Melda down and kill her before justice could run its course. "She is a traitor. There is no need to be subtle. Direct confrontation is the best option."

"As little as I would like to advocate caution," Thranduil said, "Legolas is right. We must have proof."

"The… honey," Legolas said, his eyes widening in sudden realization.

"Of course," Saeldur breathed. "Melda always sweetened the draughts. She went out of her way to persuade Lady Celebwen to let her do it. The honey pot is the only thing I have seen nobody else touch."

12 September, Afternoon

Saeldur waited until everyone but Lord Thorontur and Lady Celephindeth had left before he went, uninvited and without knocking, into the council chamber.

Legolas' eyes brightened as they met his. It did little to hide the pallor of his face.

"You have returned! Did you have a peaceful ride?"

"We killed some Spiders along the way," Saeldur said dismissively. "Nothing out of the ordinary. As to peace, having to hunt down some vermin did not affect mine nearly as terribly as the letter from Aeroniel informing me that my prince was attempting to kill himself by failing to rest when necessary."

A flush rose in Legolas' face.

Saeldur glanced at his mother and Lord Thorontur.

"My lady, my lord – if you will excuse us."

Lady Celephindeth rose and left, patting Saeldur on the arm on the way out. Lord Thorontur took longer about it, but eventually he departed as well, and Saeldur was free to speak his mind.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded. "You are in no fit state to attend Council. Or supervise archery practice, or hear petitions, or do any of the other things everybody tells me you have been doing when you should be resting!"

"I am perfectly capable of attending Council. I can as well sit here as in my room."

"Tell me that when you do not look like you are dying. You look far worse than you did when I sent you home with Rochendilwen."

"Would you have me abandon my duties to the realm?"

"The realm needs you alive and healthy. No great harm will be done if petitions are not heard for a few days. And you know any of us would gladly take on your duties on the archery fields."

"I cannot ask more of my captains."

"No, you cannot ask more of your captains." Saeldur crossed his arms and glared at Legolas. "I thought we were your friends as well."

"Saeldur."

"Legolas, please. Please be sensible. You can attend Council if you feel you must, but stay off the archery field and cancel petitions – just for today. Come with me, get some rest, and you will feel far better tomorrow, I promise you."

27 September, Evening

"Here it is."

Saeldur held up the little green pot from which Melda had been tipping honey into Legolas' draughts. For a moment, Legolas was astonished she had not kept it on her person. Then he realized that she must have hoped to arouse less suspicion by leaving it with the other containers.

Saeldur sniffed it, shrugged, and covered the pot with a scrap of cloth.

"There is certainly something other than honey in it." He wrapped a length of string around the rim to secure it. "One of the healers will have to identify it."

"That will not be difficult." Thranduil took the pot. "I think you are in good hands for the moment, Legolas. I will speak to Feredir and Barancrist and see if I can sort this out."

"If I may, my king," Saeldur said, "I will stay with Legolas."

Thranduil nodded. "Of course."

After the king had gone, Aeroniel nudged Rochendilwen. "I think we should say something to the archers. They have been very worried about Legolas. We can at least reassure them that he is alive and we are nearing an end to this."

Rochendilwen took the hint; they hurried off.

Saeldur sank to his knees by Legolas' chair.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "You cannot possibly tell me you think this is your fault."

"Whom else am I to blame? You did not want to return to the stronghold at all. I all but forced you to come back, to this, to Melda's treachery."

"You acted for the best," Legolas pointed out. "You were right. I did need a healer, and I would not have lasted long without one. If you had not forced me to return, I might not be alive now."

"I am sworn to defend you."

"None of us is equipped to deal with treachery."

"Do not dare die, Legolas. I will never forgive you." Saeldur dropped his head. "I will never forgive myself."

25 September, Morning

Legolas watched the Elves file out of the council chamber, responding with the calmest smile he could manage to all the anxious glances that were cast in his direction. As he had expected – and feared – Lord Thorontur stayed behind when the others had left.

"May I have a word, my prince?"

"Of course, my lord," responded Legolas, determined not to react to the stiffness in the Archery Master's tone. "If I may be of service in any way…"

"Why do you not trust Celebwen?"

It appeared Thorontur had no intention of mincing words. That was just as well. Legolas was too tired for a long conversation.

"My lord, I trust Lady Celebwen completely."

Thorontur scoffed. "She is grieved to be barred from your room." The chamber door opened to admit Eredhion and Voronwë, but neither Legolas nor Thorontur paid them any heed. "And if her only grief were the insult to her and to the loyalty she has always shown your father – the loyalty I have always shown your father, and the love I bear for you – I would say nothing about it. It is not for me to question my prince's decisions. But you are harming yourself."

Legolas sensed movement from Eredhion and Voronwë and knew that either or both of them would willingly intervene and use the prerogative of the Royal Guard to take the burden of a response off his shoulders. But he owed Thorontur more than that. He owed his father and the realm more than that; he was not regent in the King's absence in order to thrust difficult decisions on his friends.

"My lord," he said firmly, "I am sorry. As much as I respect you, and Lady Celebwen, I have no choice."

Thorontur's grey eyes surveyed him with an emotion Legolas could not name.

"I hope you know what you are doing, Legolas," he said. "Because if you do not, you will destroy everything your father has fought to preserve."

27 September, Night

A glance at the note was enough confirmation for Thranduil.

"Eredhion," he said, without looking up from it, "please go to Lord Barancrist and send him to tend to Legolas. Go with him, so that Saeldur knows I have given my leave. Voronwë, please bring Feredir here at once."

He turned to hand the letters to Arbellason. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the expression on Thorontur's face. He could not quite read it – shock, perhaps, or fear.

Arbellason took only a moment to read both letters. His fingers tightened on them convulsively, knuckles going white. He started to speak, but Thranduil said tersely, "Not now." He kept his gaze on the sheaf of letters on his desk. He could not look directly at Thorontur or Celebwen; if he did he would not be responsible for his own actions.

When Feredir came, his eyes widened at the crowd in the room, but he said nothing. He bowed his head politely to the king and stood in silence.

It was several minutes before Thranduil could bring himself to break it.

"Feredir," he said wearily, "please repeat what you just said in your note."

"The sample of honey you sent me was poisoned, my king," Feredir said. "My king, what –"

Thranduil held up a hand to stop him. With his other, he pulled the little pot of honey from his robe and held it up.

"Melda." His voice was as even as he could keep it. "Do you recognize this?"

She knew that she had been found out, and, to her credit, she made no attempt to stave off the inevitable. Melda was Thorontur's daughter, after all; she had never lacked courage.

"I am not sorry," was all she said.

Thorontur and Celebwen turned to stare at her. From the shock on their faces, Thranduil dared hope they had, at least, not been directly involved in her actions. For what they had done he did not know if he could ever forgive either of them, but he was grateful Legolas would not have to bear the burden of knowing one of the Elves he trusted most had tried to kill him.

"Melda?" Celebwen whispered. "I cannot… tell me it is not true. Please. Tell me it is not true."

"Would you have me lie to you, Naneth?"

"But why?" Thorontur asked. "Why would you do this thing?"

"I did what I had to do in the interests of the realm." Melda faced Thranduil directly. "I know your judgement will be severe, my king. I expect no less. It was a risk I took – and a price I pay gladly. I would have been happier to have been given a few days more, a few days to ensure that not even Lord Barancrist's best efforts would save Legolas. But even now I have hope of that."

Thranduil took a deep breath, and then another. He could not be fair now, could not even think of justice, and he did not want to do anything that would lower him in Legolas' eyes.

"Voronwë."

"My king?"

"Please escort Lady Melda to one of the cellars and lock her in it. Keep the keys with you. Then go to Legolas. Arbellason, stay here. Everybody else is dismissed."

"Thranduil," Thorontur began.

"Dismissed," Thranduil repeated.

14 September, Afternoon

"The rosters for next week –"

"Enough," Aeroniel said firmly. "No more talking, Legolas. You will never heal if you do not let yourself rest."

"But –"

"Legolas." Saeldur took the sheets from his hands. "Is this your way of punishing me for leaving you to handle the rosters last month? Because, if so, an order would have sufficed. There was no need to put yourself through this."

Legolas shook his head. Before he could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

"That will be one of the healers," said Aeroniel, going to open it.

It was, in fact, two of the healers. Calathiel hovered behind Melda as she unwound the bandages to see how the wound was healing.

"You look better," Melda murmured. Saeldur opened his mouth to protest – Legolas looked worse than he had the previous night, if anything – and then closed it again. Melda was a healer. She could judge Legolas' state of health without Saeldur's assistance. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Legolas' voice was tight with exhaustion and pain. Saeldur met Aeroniel's eyes over his head. She looked as disbelieving as he felt.

"Good. That is good." Melda got to her feet and went to the table. "Take a draught now. It will let you sleep easily. In the morning, we will see about letting you attend council."

Legolas nodded acquiescence.

Saeldur felt a twinge of unease. Melda and Lady Celebwen both said Legolas was recovering. But Saeldur had seen Legolas recovering from injuries before, and this was not what it looked like. He might not disregard the healers' advice as much as their teasing suggested, but he was never this quiet and pliant either. It was as though the fire of his spirit had been quenched. It frightened Saeldur more than he could put into words.

Melda finished mixing the draught, handed the cup to Legolas, and left. Calathiel did not go with her.

"Drink it and try to sleep, Legolas," Calathiel said after a moment's silence. "We will let you rest."

A jerk of her head had Aeroniel and Saeldur following her out of the room.

"Something is wrong," Calathiel said as soon as the door was shut. "I do not know what. It is impossible that my mother made a mistake with the antidote. She knows more about poisons and their cures than any Elf in the realm. But Legolas is not healing."

Aeroniel let out a breath. "I thought that was my imagination. I hoped it was my imagination."

"Melda says a slow recovery is not uncommon," Saeldur pointed out, though he knew he was only voicing a desperate hope. "Perhaps he must get worse before he gets better."

"With all my heart I hope so. But I fear the poison has gone too deep."

"Too deep?" Saeldur asked, his stomach dropping. "What do you mean? What must we do?"

"I think…" Calathiel's eyes were too bright. "I think there is nothing we can do, other than make him comfortable."

Saeldur heard Aeroniel gasp and wrapped an arm around her shoulders even as he felt his own eyes stinging.

"Legolas will not die." He had no idea whom he was trying to deceive. "He will recover. He will never let us forget it if we doubt that. Legolas cannot die."

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