Disclaimer: Not one Elf.

Author's Note: So this is a longer chapter than usual… And it finally has some explanations. ;-)

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I hope you enjoy this!

Part IV

27 September, Night

Thranduil listened to Barancrist's instructions, promised Saeldur he would send for him at once if there was any change in Legolas' condition, and then, finally, they left. Arbellason stayed, no doubt as anxious as Thranduil was himself – even more, if anything, since he had not seen Legolas at all that day.

"You look tired… Adar…" Legolas murmured, making Thranduil laugh.

He took the chair in front of Legolas' and reached for his hand. His son's fingers were clammy, but they responded to Thranduil's squeeze with an answering pressure that gave him hope.

"Melda did not try to deny anything," Thranduil said.

"I would never have expected her to," commented Arbellason. "She would not try to delay the inevitable."

Legolas shook his head. "I do not… understand… why."

"Do not let it trouble you." Thranduil glanced down at Legolas' fingers resting in his. "Let us only be thankful we found out in time to stop her, and trust in Barancrist's skill. That you may yet be spared to me is the only mercy I can see in all of this."

"What did… Lord Thorontur… say?"

"Nothing." Arbellason pulled up a chair beside Thranduil's and took Legolas' other hand. "We have not spoken to him… yet. I very much fear, Legolas, that we will have to prepare to hear the worst – oh, I am not saying he would intend you any harm. He cares for you too much. He could never feign that if it were not real. But I suspect – indeed I am quite certain – that he knew, or had his suspicions, and did nothing."

Legolas nodded. He had guessed as much, Thranduil knew. What Thranduil did not know was how he could be so calm about it. He himself felt as though his head would burst if he dwelt too long on everything that happened.

"We will think about it in the morning," he said. "We will think about everything in the morning, including Melda. I have had her put in one of the cellars for the night."

Legolas looked at him apprehensively. "What do you…?"

"What do I mean to do to her?" Thranduil asked, to spare his son from having to force out the question. "You know the sentence for high treason, Legolas."

"Adar, no."

"She tried to kill you."

"Killing her… will not help. Adar… I know… you are angry… with her…"

"Angry with her?" Thranduil asked, not knowing whether to smile or curse. "Legolas, I am far past angry. What Melda has done… She has threatened that which above all things in Arda I treasure. She will know how I feel about it before I have finished with her."

"Please… show her… mercy." Legolas' fingers twitched in Thranduil's. "Please."

"Why would you even ask that?" Arbellason

"I do not want… more… Elven blood… spilt on my… account." Legolas heaved a laboured breath. "There has been… enough."

Thranduil let out another unwilling laugh, leaning forward to kiss Legolas' forehead.

"You are truly your mother's son, Legolas." He met his son's eyes. "I will not do anything that would make you ashamed of me."

Legolas smiled. "Never… never be… ashamed of you."

25 September, Morning

"Perhaps…" Thorontur hesitated. "Perhaps it would be best to tell Legolas what we suspect."

Celebwen stared at him. "You cannot mean that! Give him time, Thorontur. He might be upset just now, because he is tired and fevered and in pain. We both know Legolas is incapable of being angry with you for very long."

"I do not think Legolas is angry at all. But his friends do not trust either of us at the moment – and they are right not to trust us. If we tell the truth they might at least suffer you to treat him."

"And what of Calathiel?"

"We do not know that she has done anything wrong. It is only a suspicion. And even if she is guilty, Legolas is soft-hearted. We can coax forgiveness from him, and then he will persuade Thranduil to show her mercy."

"Do you truly think anyone could persuade Thranduil to show mercy to someone who tried to kill his son?" Thorontur hesitated. Celebwen pressed her advantage. "Why go as far as that? What would you do if someone other than one of your own children poisoned Legolas?"

"Legolas is weakening, Celebwen. I can see it."

Celebwen's eyes softened. "I know he is. I have noticed it as well, and you are mistaken if you think that does not wrench at my heart. But Thranduil will be here in two days, three at most."

"He will. Then the truth will come out, because Eredhion and Voronwë will tell him everything, and he will have answers one way or another. What do we gain by concealing anything now?"

"I do not know. Time! At least, thanks to his friends' intervention, we know nobody is poisoning Legolas now! Maybe his body will purge the poison on its own. If that happens there will only be suspicions, and Thranduil may not care enough to act on them."

"There is scant hope of that. You know Thranduil." There was an edge of bitterness in Thorontur's voice as he added, "We are to sacrifice Legolas to gain time."

"No." Celebwen laid a hand on his arm. "We will not sacrifice Legolas. He will not die in two days. You must trust me, meleth. I know this. I would not say it if I were not completely certain. Legolas is strong, and he is as stubborn as his father. He will not die so easily. When Thranduil comes –"

"What will change when Thranduil comes?" Thorontur demanded.

Celebwen shook her head. "What would you have me tell you? I know you love Legolas. So do I. But I do not want to see my daughter executed for treason. Perhaps nothing will change when Thranduil comes, but that is all we have – that is our only hope of saving them both. Would you give it up?" She took his hands. "Two days. That is all. Two days. Legolas will not die in two days. I promise you that. If, in two days, Thranduil has not come… We will do whatever we must."

28 September, Morning

Thranduil looked around the council chamber. Arbellason sat at his right hand. For once, Thorontur was not at his left. Ellaurë sat there instead, looking as grim as Thranduil had ever seen her. Legolas, of course, was not present; Saeldur had reluctantly taken his place. Thorontur and Celebwen waited at the back with Melda.

It was time.

"Melda," said Arbellason, "step forward."

Melda came. She stood straight and tall, radiating defiance. Thranduil studied her, feeling a pang of something between pity and sorrow. She was a fine young elleth. What could possibly have twisted her mind enough to make her contemplate such a terrible crime?

"My king," Melda said, before Thranduil could start speaking, "there is no need to waste everybody's time. What I have done I will admit. I poisoned Legolas. The poison was, as you guessed, in the honey I mixed in his draughts. It was a slow poison and it would have been an unpleasant way to die. I take it that my brother and Lord Barancrist between them are preparing an antidote. They may succeed, in which case Legolas will recover. If they fail, it would be kinder to kill him quickly than let him linger in his pain. I am sorry for what I had to do. I bear Legolas no ill will; I have always been fond of him. But I do not regret my choice, and I would do it again. Have you anything else of which to accuse me?"

Thranduil took a long, deep breath. "You speak boldly for one who is confessing to high treason."

"We must all make difficult decisions. I am willing to stand by mine."

"Tell me why you did this."

"Danger is upon us. I have seen it. We have all seen it! The Shadow grows in Dol Guldur. The nights lengthen in the forest. The Enemy is gaining strength. Which of us does not know this?"

"All this is true," Arbellason said quietly. "But if you have seen this, why would you want to deprive the realm of one of her finest warriors?"

"Legolas might be a competent archer, but he is weak. His heart is too soft. Your archers need a stronger commander, my king."

Thranduil saw Saeldur open his mouth angrily, and gestured to him to be silent.

"Melda," said Ellaurë. "You are not yourself a warrior. You have never seen Legolas' actions on the battlefield. Therefore I can only assume that someone else has encouraged you to believe this. Tell us who has whispered these lies, and you may find greater mercy from us than you deserve."

"I ask for no mercy, my lady. My actions were my own."

"You lie."

Melda simply compressed her lips. Thranduil exchanged a glance with Arbellason. He knew that expression; he had seen it often on Thorontur's face. Whoever Melda's co-conspirators were – and Thranduil was willing to stake a great deal that Míron was one of them – she intended to protect them with her silence, no matter what the cost.

"Very well," said Thranduil. "Since you have confessed to high treason, and have nothing to say in your defence, I think we can proceed."

Celebwen stepped forward. "My king, may I speak?"

Thranduil could not answer for his actions if she began pleading on Melda's behalf, so he shook his head curtly. "You may not, Lady Celebwen. Melda… you should be very grateful indeed for Legolas' soft heart, because it is that which saves you now. Legolas begged me last night to spare your life, and since I am unwilling to add to the distress your actions have already caused him, I am going to let you live."

Melda's eyes flashed. "If that is your only reason, I do not want your mercy, my king. I do not want my life as a gift from Legolas."

"Melda!" Thorontur hissed. "Be silent."

Thranduil only shrugged. "In truth, Melda, I do not care at all what you want. Your lack of repentance makes it clear that you will only attempt Legolas' life again if given the opportunity. You are therefore exiled from the realm of Eryn Galen. I would advise you not to attempt to linger here; the archers Legolas commands are loyal to him. I do not know if even a direct order from me will keep you safe from them once they know the extent of what you have done."

"Legolas should be commanding no archers." There was something in Melda's voice that made Thranduil pay attention. "I have learnt truths of which you are yet ignorant, my king, and one of those truths is this: if we are to have victory over the Enemy, a victory that lasts longer than a handful of years, if he is to be driven into the outer darkness where his master now dwells, then the archers must ride against Dol Guldur without Legolas. He must not command them. He must not be among them."

"You know nothing," snapped Saeldur. "I can assure you, Melda, the archers will have no commander other than Legolas. If we do not ride with Legolas, we do not ride."

Melda's eyes turned on him.

"You will see, when the time comes, that I am right. And I will tell you something else, Saeldur. Your beloved commander's tendency to show too much kindness to the undeserving may yet bring about the doom of Middle-earth."

"Saeldur," Thranduil said, "silence. Melda, you have two days to say your farewells and gather any possessions you wish to take with you. You will be escorted to the borders of the realm. You may go to Imladris or Lothlórien if you wish, but, given that Legolas has friends in the household of Lord Elrond, you may not be welcomed. I advise you to travel to Mithlond and leave Middle-earth on the next ship that will take you. You do not yet have Elven blood on your hands. The choice is yours."

17 September, Morning

"Mídhaer!"

Mídhaer stopped and turned at the sound of Ellaurë's voice. The sight of the other elleth made her start; Ellaurë's normally tidy golden hair was escaping the confines of its braids. She looked as though she had run across the stronghold.

"What is it?"

"I was looking for you on the practice fields. Inside." Ellaurë caught Mídhaer's arm. "We will be alone in my study."

Mídhaer found her alarm increasing. The commander of the Home Guard was one of the most unflappable Elves she knew; to see Ellaurë look as though she feared something terrible and nameless made Mídhaer's stomach twist.

"What is it?" Mídhaer asked again when they were in Ellaurë's study. "What has happened?"

"Have you noticed how Legolas has looked since he returned from the south?"

"He is certainly not healing as quickly as he ought. That has worried me as well. I spoke to Celebwen of it. She seems to think there is no cause for concern."

Ellaurë shrugged. "Celebwen might be mistaken. I spoke to her as well; I thought she seemed evasive. In any case, I wrote to Thranduil. Legolas has had far too many duties in his absence and no time to rest. That cannot be helping his healing. I thought hastening Thranduil's return might do some good."

"Thranduil's presence will probably do Legolas more good than any amount of Celebwen's medicines. That was a wise thought."

"Something is wrong, though." Ellaurë looked around, as though expecting an eavesdropper even in her study. "I sent the letter a few days ago. I have just had Thranduil's reply."

"What does he say?"

"Nothing." Ellaurë snatched a paper off the desk and handed it to Mídhaer. "Read it for yourself. He speaks of his talks with the men, troop movements, something about Dwarves in Arnor and something else about the peredhel – but not a word about Legolas, not even to ask how he is."

"That is not like Thranduil." Mídhaer looked over the letter quickly. Legolas' name was not mentioned even once, and it was undoubtedly in the King's hand. "Do you think your letter was prevented from reaching him?"

"No; he responds to other questions I asked him." Ellaurë paused. "But it is possible that the pages about Legolas were lost or damaged if the courier was careless."

"Now that you mention it," Mídhaer said slowly, "Thranduil has not asked about Legolas' condition once in his letters to me. How likely is that?"

"You do not think… Does Thranduil know Legolas was injured? Legolas asked Thorontur to say nothing of it. He did not want Thranduil distracted." Ellaurë rolled her eyes. "I do see his point, of course. Thranduil has trouble concentrating when Legolas is injured even when he is here in the stronghold. Away among the Men…"

"Somebody must have told him, Legolas' wishes notwithstanding." Mídhaer bit her lip. "The Council would do as he asked, but with so many Elves in the stronghold it is inconceivable that nobody has said anything… I do not like this, Ellaurë."

"Nor do I. Do you think we should try to tell him again?"

"Send him another letter, by all means, but do not be surprised if, by an odd coincidence, those very pages are lost or torn again… I think I will speak to Celebwen in greater detail."

"You do not think…"

"That there is something unnatural about this?" Mídhaer said gravely. "I do not see how that can be so. Celebwen assured me she or one of her daughters personally vets every single thing Legolas eats or drinks, and Eredhion and Voronwë have been standing over him like watchdogs. Perhaps it is no more than too much exertion."

"I hope you are right."

28 September, Morning

"Thranduil – I do not have the words to thank you –"

"I would not have you thank me," Thranduil told Celebwen coolly. "I did it for Legolas' sake."

"And perhaps," Arbellason growled, glare taking in both Celebwen and Thorontur, "the two of you should have considered that before deciding to sit back and allow Legolas to die."

"Arbellason –"

"You know Legolas! You know he is easily moved to pity – that was your daughter's chief objection to him, after all. Why in all of Arda did you not simply tell Legolas everything and ask him to intercede with Thranduil? What he did last night he could have done with equal effectiveness even if he had not been inches from death."

Thorontur flinched. "How is he?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Have you no duties to attend to?"

"None that could distract me from the fear of knowing Legolas is in danger. I can live with your anger, Thranduil. I deserve it. But you know I love Legolas – I could not love him more if he were my own son. If I could spare him his present pain at the cost of my life I would do it."

"This is hardly the time for your protestations."

"Thranduil, please. How is Legolas?"

Thranduil steeled himself to meet Thorontur's gaze without emotion. "I believe you, but I do not think I can discuss this with you. Not yet."

"May I see him?"

About to refuse, Thranduil hesitated. "That is not my decision to make. I will ask him, but I will not force him to see you if he does not want to."

Thorontur sighed. "Legolas will forgive me. I know him well enough to know that. Will you?"

"I believe you," Thranduil repeated.

"That is not the same thing. I know I betrayed your trust. I do not blame you for being angry. But my only crime was a surfeit of confidence in my own cleverness. I never intended that harm should come to Legolas – I never for a moment imagined that it would. I thought Celebwen's watchfulness, and mine, would keep him safe."

Arbellason responded before Thranduil could.

"Legolas nearly died," he growled, "because you knew somebody was trying to harm him and you decided to watch and do nothing to prevent it! He might still die. You want forgiveness? You should be grateful you have not been exiled alongside your treacherous daughter!"

"Perhaps I should, but that could not be a worse punishment than knowing I have… I cannot expect you to understand."

"Why? Because I have no children whose malice I must defend at the cost of one I claim to hold as dear as any child of my blood?"

"Arbellason," Thranduil said quietly, "this is not helping."

Arbellason nodded, jaw set. "You are right. This is not helping. Thorontur, I cannot believe you would… Thranduil worried, do you know that? Away in the mannish lands, when we had no tidings of Legolas for days, he worried. But I told him you were there and you would look to Legolas' wellbeing as carefully as he would himself."

"About that…" Thorontur paused. "There is one more thing I must confess."

"What?" Arbellason demanded. "That you poured the poison in Legolas' cup yourself?"

Thorontur ignored him and addressed Thranduil. "Ellaurë tried to persuade Legolas to write to you, to tell you of his injury and ask for your return. He said he did not want to worry you of course, but he might have done it all the same… I…"

"You dismissed Ellaurë's concerns and told Legolas there was no need to bother me."

"I did not have to go as far as that. Legolas was – tired, ill, everything – and he gave the matter no more than a passing thought. He was far too tired to write to you. But that is not all. You know I have been gathering all the correspondence in my study for the courier to collect. More than once I had the distinct impression that it had been tampered with."

"You mean somebody removed any mention of Legolas or his injury from the letters," Thranduil said flatly.

"And you did nothing about it?" Arbellason sounded incredulous. "Did you not think it was important for us to know? Or… Did you do it yourself, to keep us away?"

"I would do no such thing! Thranduil, please –"

"Do not ask for forgiveness. Legolas may have it for you, but I do not." Thranduil forced himself to stay calm. "I thought our friendship meant more to you than this."

25 September, Morning

"We have a confirmed report." Míron's brows were drawn together as he paced the room. "Thranduil is returning. He will be here the day after tomorrow. Arahael, have you made any progress with Saeldur?"

"He is determined." Arahael's tone was equal parts disappointment and anger. "I should have known he would not have the stomach for this."

"It does not matter. He has made our work a little more difficult, but that will not stop us." He sat down, looking seriously at his wife and son. "We are agreed? We have gone too far along this path to turn back now. There will not be another chance. No matter what anyone does, Legolas must die."

"If his friends will not let anybody near him –"

"That is a minor obstacle, no more. Do you think Saeldur will keep his silence once the deed is done?"

"I do not see how he can do otherwise. If he were going to betray us, he would have spoken by now. Saeldur cannot give us away without giving himself away as well."

"He will never dare to do that," agreed Arahael's mother. "His betrayals are far greater than anything of which we are guilty. We are only concerned Elves acting in the best interests of the realm. Saeldur is one of Legolas' most trusted friends. If anyone hears the slightest whisper of what he has said and done in our company, the vengeance that falls on him will be terrible."

"So be it." Míron picked up a dagger that lay on the table, running his thumb carefully along its edge. "We will be watchful. Remember, we only need one opportunity, but those who guard Legolas must be vigilant every moment. We will have our chance. We must be prepared to seize it."

28 September, Afternoon

"I cannot believe you thought I would poison Legolas!" Calathiel fumed. "What possible motive could I have for doing such a thing?"

"I am sorry," Celebwen said helplessly, wishing they were having this conversation anywhere but in the council chamber, with Elves still milling about hoping to hear news of Legolas. "You seemed so… disappointed… not to be allowed to ride with the archers. And you put it to Legolas that he would not have been so ill if you had been able to help him at once."

"You thought I poisoned Legolas so I would be allowed to ride with the archers."

"Calathiel." Thorontur looked weary. "I am truly sorry. You have not always been… restrained… in how you express yourself when the matter is in question."

"This was all because you doubted me." Calathiel ran her hands through her hair. "You would not be open with Eredhion and Voronwë. You would not send word to the King. Legolas is dying because you thought I was a murderer!" She drew in a shuddering breath. "Because I have not always been restrained."

"Calathiel –"

"Legolas is my friend! After all this time, do you still not understand what that means? Do you still think I lack courage because I have not taken up arms in defence of the realm? You were afraid of what the consequences might be to me. If ever I fall far enough to attempt the life of the prince… I would rather know that you would stop me, no matter what the cost, than that you would let him die to protect a traitor."

"Do you think it was an easy choice?" Thorontur burst out. "I have been tormented by it."

"Calathiel."

Saeldur's quiet voice cut into what Calathiel had been about to say. That was probably for the best, she reflected as she turned to him.

"Saeldur, I am so sorry. Tell Legolas I am… I am deeply ashamed. If I had not been so… so foolish in the past, if I had not given people reason to believe my eagerness might overcome my sense, it might never have come to this."

"You have not always acted wisely," Saeldur acknowledged. "But this is not your doing. Legolas would not want you to blame yourself. I speak on behalf of Aeroniel and Rochendilwen as well when I say we are grateful to you. You were the only healer willing to tell us the truth."

"How is Legolas?"

"He was a little better this morning. Feredir and Barancrist have hope." Saeldur paused. "I expect he will want to speak to you when he is on his feet again."

"Legolas will be well."

"Of course he will." Saeldur smiled for the first time that day. "He knows full well that if he dares to die, I will drag him back from the halls of Mandos so that I can kill him myself."

18 September, Morning

Legolas would have protested that he needed no supervision, but, since Saeldur had had to help him dress, he doubted any argument would get far. All the same, he thought that Saeldur, Rochendilwen and Eredhion hovering outside the door to the council chamber was excessive.

They came in as soon as he dismissed council, not even making a pretence of being polite to the Elves filing out.

"Take this." Eredhion put another of Lady Celebwen's draughts in his hand.

Legolas scowled. The last thing he wanted was to have his senses dulled and his mind numbed. But Eredhion's expression was implacable. He sipped at the draught, hoping he would be able to get away with taking as little as possible.

Eredhion rolled his eyes and glanced at Saeldur and Rochendilwen. "I have to go. Make certain he finishes it."

Legolas would have asked where Eredhion was going, but he could not muster the energy. He watched his friend leave, Aeroniel arriving almost immediately after.

"The sooner you drink it, the sooner it will be done," Rochendilwen said. "Why the sudden objection to the medicine, Legolas? You have been willing enough to take it all this time."

Legolas opened his mouth to respond, thought better of it, and shook his head. There were some things he could not admit, not even to his closest friends – perhaps especially not to his closest friends.

He should have known they would not let him off so lightly.

"Legolas." Saeldur's voice was gentler than usual, as though he was afraid to speak too loudly. "You know you do not have to be strong for us."

Legolas let out a breath. "If these are going to be my last days in Middle-earth," he murmured, "I do not want to spend them… unaware." He half-raised the cup. "I would rather know the world I must leave."

The silence that followed his words was broken by Rochendilwen. "You are not going to die!"

"Not while we are here to prevent it," agreed Aeroniel.

"I do not know how long I can fight it," admitted Legolas. "I am tired."

"You cannot give up. Not now. Not like this." Saeldur's words were spoken in the same low hiss he had used to order the archers to slaughter the Orcs. "Not when we are fighting so hard for your life."

"Saeldur –"

"You cannot lose your courage now!"

He rose abruptly and left the room, leaving Aeroniel and Rochendilwen staring after him in stunned silence.

Legolas sighed. "I will speak to him."

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