We're nearing the end now guys so thanks for sticking with me. Only a couple of chapters to go after this one I think. (That is if they all behave!)
My thanks go out to all of you still reading and those who have added it to your favourites. *Big hugs* I would especially like to thank Teapot of transformation, penguinfat (love the name btw) and bettsam0731 for reviewing. It really makes my day :)
Chapter 54
The decanter has moved from its place on the cabinet to the centre of the table and is three quarters empty by the time the lieutenant has finished his tale, the king having left his seat to retrieve it himself about halfway through Doronors narration. For what seems like hours the only sound in the room has been that of the warriors voice calmly reciting the account in the manner of one providing a field report on return from patrol. The only movement that of the kings goblet from table to lips, the decanter from table to goblet.
The silence when it comes is almost unexpected and Estel looks around to see if anyone else appears as dazed as he feels. Although he has heard it all before and even been involved in its majority there is a sense of only just becoming aware of the magnitude of the plot and what its consequences could have been if it had been successful. He catches Elladans eyes with his own, feels a comforting wave of loving reassurance wash over him and his lips curl up in gratitude towards his eldest brother.
Thranduil has remained silent throughout the telling, his face an impassive mask. The inner turmoil he feels growing inside hidden by the formidable strength of his will alone. Never once has he allowed his gaze to alight upon his son even though he has scanned the others infrequently, for fear that his icy veneer will crumble exposing his anguished heart for all to see. He leans back in the chair, releasing a little of the tension within him and drains the goblet one more time.
"That is an interesting tale lieutenant." The chief advisor steps forward from beside the kings chair and moves to the front of the desk, his demeanor remaining frosty. "I presume you have proof?"
"This man," Doronor nods towards Flinn who has been silently watching the king and nervously licking his lips with each mouthful of wine he has seen consumed, "is willing to confirm the details my lord."
The advisor turns his contemptuous expression to the man then back to the lieutenant.
"The word of this Adan, does not constitute proof," he sneers "We all know how men love to lie and cheat their way through life when they think it is to their advantage." The twins do not miss the way his eyes dart over to their human brother with this slur.
"Rukhs Mahumbun!"
Estel feels his face flush with anger at the advisors words and if not for Elrohirs sudden expressive intervention would have had the tall elf by the throat. As it is he stares at the youngest twin in disbelief. Did his brother really just call the advisor an orcs dropping?
"How dare you!" The tall elfs face is thunderous as he glares at the younger then turns to the king. "See Arun nin, this is what comes of mixing elves and humans. Disrespect and contempt!"
"Hir nin!"
"My Lord!"
"He insulted our brother!"
Three voices are raised in protest then the world turns to chaos. Brothers and advisors all try to shout the other down, their voices becoming louder and more stringent as each attempts to make their own heard above the others.
Silence!" Thranduil watches the scene unfolding, anxiety building within his chest as he notes that Legolas remains as quiet and still as he has throughout the whole proceedings. As if somehow cut off, apart from the rest of the world.
"SILENCE!" He can take no more and rises to his feet his voice a thunderous roar not to be ignored, "I will not have this," he continues at a lesser volume as silence indeed falls once more and all faces turn to him excepting one.
Remaining on his feet Thranduil brings his most regal countenance to bear and slowly fixes each of the irate figures before him in turn with an icy glare.
"I will have civility in my halls!"
"Diheno nin, your majesty." Five figures speak simultaneously, as the brothers, lieutenant and advisor bow in unison begging forgiveness.
"This plot may yet succeed if we are all to find ourselves at each others throats." Thranduil raises his eyebrows in emphasis then resumes his seat once more, reaching for the decanter to refill his goblet. "Now, Doronor," he looks towards the lieutenant as he takes a sip of wine, "You say this man is prepared to swear to his part in this." The wood elf nods in affirmation. "Good, I will have a scribe speak with him later to take down his confession, " Flinn feels himself tremble as he is fixed once more by the kings steely glare. "He may be taken away to the dungeons until such time as I have decided his fate."
"Of course Arun nin." The lieutenant bows and moves to the door to summon the waiting guards.
"And send to Galion for more wine!" Thranduil regards the almost empty decanter ruefully.
Flinn feels his legs have turned to jelly as he suddenly finds himself caught between two tall elves that come up beside him so silently it is as if they have appeared from thin air. He turns passively as one takes him roughly by the arm. Never a particularly aggressive man his spirit has been completely overwhelmed by all that has happened since the gruesome end of his late companion and he allows himself to be led out of the room without any resistance whatsoever, totally unmindful of what may happen next.
Watching him led away Estel feels a momentary burst of sympathy towards the broken figure but his heart hardens as his eyes move back to take in the motionless figure of his best friend still standing before the desk staring into nothing, eyes blank, face expressionless.
"Well," Thranduil speaks slowly, swirling the last of the wine around in the goblet held lightly between long, elegant fingers. "It would appear I owe you my thanks." His piercing eyes pass from Estell to Elladan to Elrohir. " Nay, The Greenwood owes you its thanks." He pauses and the twins think they see a twinkle deep within the sky blue eyes. "I will not ask how you escaped my dungeons, but it would seem to be a blessing that you did." A half smile plays at the corners of his lips.
"We only did what any would in the circumstances hir nin." Elladan replies formally then smiles conspiratorially, "And we would not wish to divulge our secrets in case the need ever should arise again."
"Hmmm." The kings eyebrows become almost as mobile as those of their father and he is about to speak again when the door opens to admit the same elf as brought the wine previously with two more fine decanters which he proceeds to place on the table before picking up the now empty vessel and removing both it and himself from the room with practiced decorum.
"Now, Orchalon, my friends," Thranduil first regards the chief advisor then the remainder of the rooms occupants as he refills his goblet once more. "There is much we need to discuss," He motions to the remaining goblets on the cabinet beside the desk, "And I think it will go much smoothly if our guests have a drink." His gaze falls upon Doronor, "If you would be so kind , lieutenant?"
"Of course Aran nin," The patrol leader moves to the desk, picks up the full decanter, steps over to the cabinet and begins to pour, filling each of the goblets with the heady wine so beloved by the king.
"You believe in this plot Hir nin?" The advisor makes no effort to hide the scepticism in his voice.
"Indeed I do, Orchalon." The king replies wearily, "I have long felt that something stirs again in that accursed dark fortress and it surprises me not to find I am right. That Valar forsaken spot has been the home to much malignancy in the past so it is only natural that we should find it inhabited once more by some evil." He sighs, closes his eyes and massages his temples with slender fingers. "That such a plot could be conceived is not the issue, no, what must be decided now is what, if anything, we do to discover the instigator and how we ensure it can happen again."
"May I make a suggestion, hir nin?" Doronor pauses in the act of handing a goblet to Elladan. "Allow me to take a patrol to Dol Guldur," he continues without allowing the king to reply. "I know we can flush out whoever it is hiding there. This man who likes to conceal himself in the shadows will be no match for warriors used to fighting the creatures spawned by the dark as long as we and.."
"Ah, Doronor," Thranduil holds up a hand to interrupt the lieutenants eager words. "Would that it were so simple." Another sigh leaves his lips. " Yet, I fear you would be too late." He smiles sadly and fingers his ornate goblet once more.
"Aye, It is probable that the instigator has already fled," Elladan agrees, nodding slowly "But there may be some trace or clue as to his identity left behind."
"Especially if he has gone in haste." His twin breaks in earnestly. "Maybe a couple of us tracking him is stealth would be a better option than a full patrol."
"And what if he is still there?" Doronor retorts, "We know he has used orcs before, what if somehow he has a whole army of them?" he pauses and faces the king "A patrol would be needed then hir nin."
"We are quite capable of holding off a few orcs Doronor." Elrohir states simply.
"You think much of yourself and your brother Elrondion!" Orchoron spits out before the Lieutenant has chance to reply. "You would do well to remember it is Thranduil who rules here not Elrond. The Greenwood realm is quite capable of taking care of itself. "
The twins faces grow black as thunder and for a moment Estel is certain that the advisor will lose his head when Elladans hand flies to his sword but before he can draw the blade his twin reaches over to still the movement and they all freeze as a quiet voice issues out for the first time.
"I will go."
All eyes in the room turn to the speaker who until now has appeared to be unaware of the happenings around him.
"I should go."
The figure once looking so lost and forlorn now stands straight and proud his eyes bright with challenge as he gazes around the room.
"It is because of me the king has been endangered, it is my responsibility to ensure it can not happen again." His voice is strong yet unemotional, his eyes glitter darkly as he looks his father in the eye for the first time since his identity was revealed. "My life is already forfeit, nothing will be lost that is not already owed should I fall whilst defeating your enemy."
"A pretty speech." Orchalons tones sound discordant and sharp after the low melody of the princes words. "Would you hope to regain honour by this so noble sacrifice?" His nose turns up in sneering contempt as he sweeps disdainful eyes up and down the archers form. "Do you not think you have brought shame and sorrow enough to our realm already?" The advisor moves until his face is so close to that of the younger elfs their noses almost touch. "If I had my way you would be dead already. Kinslayer!"
"Orchoron!" In one fluid motion Thranduil is on his feet, eyes flashing with a dangerous gleam, his voice low and dark. "You overstep your mark." Drawing himself up to his full height he glares down at the advisor, his face regal and commanding, he continues peremptorily, "Leave us!"
"But I only.."
"I said leave us!"
"Is that wise Hir nin?" The tall advisor realises his mistake as soon as the words leave his mouth but can not call them back.
"Are you calling me unwise Orchalon ?" Thranduils voice is low, controlled and icily cool.
Estel feels the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. He knows this response is far worse than the loudest shout and almost pities the advisor who has turned so pale as to be almost white.
"Nay sire, I would nev..."
"You forget yourself." Maintaining a calm exterior the king stands looming over the advisor who halts mid sentence, mouth open, quaking as the full force of Thranduils formidable personality bears down upon him. "You and I will speak later advisor. I suggest you leave now or I will be forced to have you removed."
Thranduil turns away in dismissal and the disgraced elf walks across the room in silence, feeling all eyes upon his back.
"And Orchalon. " Thranduil waits until the other is just about to open the door, to turn and deliver the final cutting sentence, "I would have you contemplate your future role here in the time until I send for you."
With one last nod the advisor leaves the room and takes the tension that has built to unnerving proportions with him.
"Does anyone else feel the need to advise me on how best to proceed?" Turning to address the remaining group of wood elves standing in shocked silence behind his chair the king stares in challenge. "No?" with a slight tilt of the head he accepts their shuffling silence. "Good, then we will continue." he seats himself once more, subconsciously reaching out for the goblet for comfort, before setting his gaze back to his son.
It has taken all the inner strength Legolas has inherited from his father not to close his eyes or turn away as the advisors tirade washed over him. His heart had quivered as the wave of disgust and malice almost engulfed him but he had pushed it back, refusing to give it room this time and had managed to stand straight and proud, determined not to allow Orchalon to witness the pain caused by his words deep within.
His heart initially had leapt to hear his fathers wrath brought to bear upon the haughty figure but he had swiped away the bud of hope with the remembrance that it may have been the advisor who had carried out his sentencing but it was his father who had written the decree and here again was proof, if any were needed, that it was Thranduil who ruled, Thranduil who made the decisions and Thranduil alone who gave the orders and expected them to be fulfilled to the letter.
Meeting his fathers eyes again he lets the shutters come down in his heart once more and stands awaiting his fate.
A/N
Rukhs Mahumbun = dwarvish for orcs droppings