AN: We're nearing the end now (as in the next chapter is the last one), which comes as a relief to me because I've never finished a multi chaptered fic before (shocking I know, with my perfectionism). I drew a lot of inspiration from the interrogation scene in the Hobbit movies, so that might be apparent. If it sounds like the plot is being picked apart for flaws during the interrogation, that's because it is a little bit.

Chapter 6

My breath catching in my throat, I tried not to look the King directly in the eye. My pulse was racing, but I somehow managed to keep my breaths under control for the most part. My hands hung limply at my sides, and every so often, I'd tap them against my leg.

The King prowled around me in a circle, obviously in no rush to get started. His hands were clasped behind his back, his pace was steady, and he hadn't directly met my eyes since he started walking. The Prince was a few paces away, standing with his hands folded across his chest. His eyes, which trailed his father, were full of an aloof coldness.

Despite the feeling of the fabric of my dress brushing my skin, I felt bare. Exposed. Their scrutinizing eyes stripped me, then burdened me with their heavy judgments. Trembling slightly, I willed myself to stay strong, but my strength was failing with each of the King's footfalls.

At last, the King's voice echoed around the hall. "I'm assuming you know why you're here?" Licking my lips, I wasn't sure how to respond. Was that supposed to be rhetorical, or was a "Yes, Your Majesty" needed? Stumbling a little over my soft words, I whispered the latter. The King stopped to look at me with his head cocked to the side, then asked, "What was that?"

Clearing my throat, I repeated the phrase a little louder, but not to the point of insubordination. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"So why don't you tell me what's been going on? I've already heard Legolas's account, but I want to hear yours." With a whisper of moving fabric, the King started walking around me in a circle again. He fluidly clasped his hands together once more.

My eyes darted to where Legolas was standing. With a strange jolting of feeling, I was startled to see that he was looking back at me now. Nervousness flared in my chest, and I stuttered, "Uh, it all started a few weeks or months ago when I was delivering the laundry to Maendir's post. I was just coming back from dropping the clothes off when I heard something that didn't sound quite right."

"What was this sound? I can assure you, I haven't heard of any strange noises within my halls." His footsteps were the only thing to fill the silence as I thought about how to respond.

"It wasn't especially loud, but it was loud enough to draw my attention." Wincing slightly, I realized how convoluting that sounded. I joined my hands in front of me and tried to elaborate, "Well, it was a series of ragged breaths, like someone had just been running but that person wasn't athletic."

The King paused, then slowly met my eyes. I couldn't read his expression, but the tension in the air hinted that it was something to be afraid of. "And you thought it was Legolas? He's one of the finest bowman in all of Mirkwood, and you believe that he is unable to run more than a few paces?"

Legolas dipped his head slightly in response to the praise, then stepped forward to add, "Can you name any elves who aren't naturally built for endurance?"

My breath caught in my throat.

"I'm not sure what noise you thought you heard, but I can assure you it wasn't real." Legolas looked to his father for approval, then stepped back after receiving a nod.

King Thranduil turned back to me and gave me a bemused smile. "Surely this can't be the only piece of information in your case."

Shaking my head, I noted the King's expression then hastily responded, "No, Your Majesty."

His smile broadening, he gestured to me. "Continue." Folding his hands behind his back once more, he resumed his pacing. I wasn't sure if those gestures were meant to comfort or unnerve me, but instincts believed that it was the latter.

"One of my companions in the workroom was injured recently because a knife fell out of a pile of clothing." I licked my lips and tried not to meet the King's eyes, which had suddenly fixed themselves upon me with an intensity that he hadn't yet used. I didn't really want to continue, but after shooting a glance at Legolas and seeing his smirking eyes also upon me, I remembered that the King already knew. Taking in a steady breath, I went on, "I hid the knife in the folds of my apron after I cleaned the blood off, then took it to the Prince's quarters that night."

King Thranduil stopped me with a hand. "Why didn't you let your superior take care of it all?"

I wasn't sure how to explain that one in a light that shone on me favorably, so I started slowly, "She went to take my companion to the healers. I just wanted to get the knife out of the workroom so it wouldn't hurt anyone else."

"So why didn't you do something about it right after you cleaned it?" The Prince raised an eyebrow and waited for my response with a slight incline of his head.

My pulse starting to race, it became apparent that I had no good reason why I didn't act promptly. I stuttered over incoherent syllables before muttering, "I don't know why. Perhaps I supposed the time didn't seem right."

The King nodded in a way that felt demeaning but deserved, and briskly asked me another question, "After you finished your little escapade in my son's quarters, why did you proceed to keep bothering him? The knife had been addressed, thanks to you," the emphasis he put on his thanks caused me to flinch, "so why did you keep following after him? Surely you know he has other business to attend to than the meddling of some laundress?"

Before I could help myself, the words shot from my mouth. "I was just being more concerned about your son than you were."

The King's temper flared as he rushed me and grabbed my chin, forcing me to see the sudden anger burning in his eyes. "On what pretenses do you think that I don't care for my heir?" When I didn't answer, he sneered, "Just fiery words from a servant trying to work her way out of the dungeons." Releasing my chin with a flick of his wrist, he turned away from me and started walking out of the hall. Over his shoulder, he waved a hand and called, "Legolas, take her away."

The Prince approached me, and while I backed away from him, I knew that it was futile. He was stronger than me, and the only exit in the room was the one the King was in the way of. Even if I did manage to get out, the entire guard would be after me. I became so lost in my inevitable doom that I stumbled into the pillar I had backed up into. Whipping my head around to look at what was behind me, the Prince grabbed my wrists. "Please, don't struggle. It'll only make it worse for you."

"Your Majesty!" A voice full of panic suddenly filled the hall. Hurried footsteps approached the King. Unfortunately, I couldn't see who it was as the Prince was in my way.

King Thranduil intercepted the elf. "Forgive me, but can this wait until I reach the hall?"

"I'm afraid it can't. It concerns Prince Legolas as well." The reply was hastily delivered, and the Prince turned around to see what was going on.

I thought about wrenching my hands free, but from the look on the messenger's face, I deemed it unwise. What was so horribly wrong?

"It concerns your daughter. She's fading." As soon as the words left his lips, the room was engulfed in silence. I didn't dare move, as the atmosphere was too uncertain to risk anything.

Then everything moved all at once, and my hands were released. Voices shouted, and the Prince raced out of the room. The King and his messenger followed directly after him, and I was left alone, leaning against the pillar, wondering how it had all happened so quickly.