Tauriel holds her head high and stares haughtily ahead, giving the impression she is not worried and everything is beneath her. At least, that's what she is trying for. In actuality it's not as impressive when you're being half carried because you can't support yourself, and wearing a man's nightshirt that barely falls halfway to your knees.
She understands why the King allowed her to be taken away, how he can't just ignore his duties. Tauriel knows many already perceive her as a traitor, having abandoned her post just before battle. To allow her to walk without trial after the murder of an elf, right here in the palace, would cause an uproar.
Knowing that does not, however, ease her annoyance.
He could have at least overseen this himself, she thinks, glancing in the direction of the leering Lord Haewon.
Tauriel has not had that much interaction with the councilman, only having mingled in large social gatherings, but she's not fond of the man. There is something about him that puts her teeth on edge.
His son, Arradon, is a member of the guard, though it is clear the boy would rather be doing literally anything else. He's a nice enough man, so different from his father.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he comments as they approach the dungeons.
She doesn't say anything; partly because her throat is still too raw, and partly because the things she wants to say could end up leaving her with additional charges to face.
"It seems you might finally have done something that will lose you the King's favor. I mean, I thought that was a done deal when the Prince ran off because you broke his heart, but no. You prevailed. Soared even, getting invited to private meals with the King. I think that's all over now."
Tauriel glares at him, wondering where he gets his information. She doubts Legolas' reasons for departing are public knowledge.
They reach the dungeons and she's shoved unceremoniously into one, her chest tightening when she realizes it's the same cell Kili was kept in.
The bars slam shut, clanging loudly and causing her to jump despite having known it was coming. She stands in the middle of cell and looks out at the pompous councilman.
"Don't worry," he says, his voice slick as oil, "you won't be here long. I'm sure you'll be found guilty in no time, and then you'll be free of this place. And this earth."
He gives her one more wicked smirk and marches off, the guards trailing him, leaving Tauriel all alone in the gloomy cell.
She slinks over to the corner of the room and sits on the edge of the rough pallet bed.
Staring out the bars and seeing the place where she sat and discussed the wonders of the night sky with Kili, Tauriel thinks it will be too much. After the day she's had, this seems like the final straw. She waits, preparing herself for the jolting grief and tears, but none comes.
Instead she finds herself dry faced, and numb.
Perhaps if I get out of this— when I get I get out of this, I should leave, she muses. Why stay somewhere no one wants me?
Tauriel draws her knees up to her chest and pulls her nightshirt down as far as it will go, trying to shield herself from the dungeon chill. She rests her head on her knees and inhales deeply, an instantly familiar aroma surrounding her.
The scent of wine and spices; sharp yet soothing.
Her shoulders relax and she finds herself taking another calming breath.
He knows I'm innocent, she thinks, picturing the King's worried face. He won't let anything happen to me here.
"Shh, it's alright. You are safe now."
She recalls his voice, comforting her.
"Tauriel, you are safe."
It's with those words she drifts off to sleep, still sitting upright, curled into herself. Her sleep is sound, no weird dreams or nightmares, though she does briefly wake in a haze, swearing she hears a woman shouting, but the sound fades and she slips back under.
X
Thranduil is picking over his breakfast in distaste, having no real appetite, when the door to his dining chamber bursts open loudly.
"I need to speak with you!"
It's Tauriel's maid, Arodeth, looking furious. A sheepish looking young guard is trailing her.
"S-sorry, my King. She's quite fast," the guard apologizes, taking hold of the maid's arm.
Thranduil sighs tiredly and waves his hand.
"Oh, just leave her," he says.
The guard is hesitant, but does as he's told, backing out of the room slowly and closing the door behind him.
Setting his fork down, Thranduil cocks his head to the side and waits.
"Imagine my surprise," Arodeth begins, pacing angrily back and forth, "when I go to deliver breakfast to Tauriel, I discover her room is blocked off. When I inquire as to what is going on, I am then informed that Tauriel has been arrested for murder and is locked away in the dungeons."
He opens his mouth to speak, but she holds up a hand silencing him.
Who does she think she is speaking to?
"So then, I head down to the dungeon to check on her and find out what in the heavens happened, only to have some bumbling buffoon of a guard tell me traitors are not permitted visitors. Despite giving him a piece of my mind, no one will tell me what is going on! I hear there is to be a trial?"
"If you could find the ability to hold your tongue, challenging for you as that may be, I may be able to enlighten you," he tells her.
Arodeth stops pacing and folds her arms in a huff, but doesn't say anything else.
"I don't have all the details yet, but last night Tauriel was attacked in her room. She killed the intruder in self defense, if her injuries are anything to go by, and then showed up at my door drenched in blood." He pauses, swallowing uncomfortably, haunted by the image of her arrival the night before. "The problem is her attacker was a respected member of the guard. It was Langon, one of the men I assigned to watch her room. The council is demanding a trial, and it wasn't something I could deny."
"Well you are king aren't you?"
"The way people have been addressing me lately, I'm really beginning to wonder," he says, giving her a dangerous look.
Looking away, blushing, Arodeth bows her head.
"I'm sorry for the way I burst in here," she apologizes. "I'm very worried for Tauriel. She was just starting to recover, and I worry this will be a setback. Please, will you allow me to see her?"
Thranduil hesitates only a moment before nodding.
"I'll instruct the guards to allow you access. Please check that Maereth has been to see her, there is still some damage to her throat that needs to be tended. Also, you should take her a change of clothes. I'm sure she'd be more comfortable."
"Thank you."
The maid bows slightly and turns to leave.
"Arodeth? Tell her— tell her not to worry. I will handle this."
Arodeth smiles sadly and excuses herself, leaving Thranduil with his troubled thoughts on just how he can help Tauriel.
X
When she wakes Tauriel finds her whole body aching. She winces as she stretches her legs, and tries to assess the damage.
Her head is pounding, throat is tight, and she generally feels as if she's been trampled by a horse.
The cell is damp and cold, and Tauriel wonders how long she's going to be kept down here.
Will they move the trial along quickly, or am I going to be stuck waiting?
"I have permission from the King!"
Tauriel hears a commotion from down the hall. She stands up, joints popping, and crosses to the prison bars, trying to see what is going on.
"That's what I thought, now run along."
"Arodeth?" Tauriel croaks.
The maid comes bustling towards her, with another woman following.
"She should not yet speak," the other woman says.
"Tauriel, this is Maereth, the royal healer," Arodeth introduces, fumbling with the cell key to open the door. "She healed you last night."
Tauriel steps back to allow the women entrance to the cell. She opens her mouth to thank the healer, but the woman silences her.
"Let me try to heal your throat again. There was too much damage to fix it all last night."
Nodding, Tauriel perches on the edge of the bed and the healer joins her. Maereth places cool hands around her neck and Tauriel tries to remain perfectly still.
When the chanting begins, Tauriel slips away. She's no longer in the dark dungeon, but outside in the garden, a gentle breeze playing across her skin.
The vision stops abruptly and she is back in the dank cell, the healer watching her serenely.
"Speak," the woman says.
"Thank you, for your help," Tauriel tries.
The words come out without pain, but her voice still sounds raw and husky.
"Much better," Maereth beams. "I'm afraid that may be the best I can do. The rest will heal with time."
"You're a miracle worker!" Arodeth gushes, patting Maereth's shoulder.
"There are some wounds I have no power over," she says, studying Tauriel. "The real miracle workers are those who can begin to heal wounds long ago hidden."
Tauriel wants to ask what that means, but Maereth stands up abruptly and offers them a small bow.
"If you need anything else, please let me know."
And then she is gone, leaving the maid and the captain alone.
Arodeth practically tackles Tauriel, pulling her into a fierce hug.
"Are you alright?" she begs. "I was so worried! They wouldn't let me come see you, I had to go to the King."
"I thought I heard someone yelling this morning," Tauriel smirks. "I'm okay, well I am now."
She gently massages her throat, again thinking of the healer's cryptic words.
"Did you say you've been to see the King?" Tauriel asks.
"Yes, I had to get in here somehow. No wonder he said to bring you a change of clothes, what are you wearing?"
"Oh, it's King Thranduil's," she says offhand. "Did he say anything else?"
Arodeth's eyes widen but she doesn't say anything, instead passing Tauriel a clean outfit.
"Thank you."
Tauriel pulls off the nightshirt and tosses it on the bed, dressing as quickly as she can to shield herself from the cold air. In her own clothes, dressed head to toe, she feels so much better… stronger.
"He did say something," Arodeth says, "the King. He told me to tell you not to worry. He will handle this."
Surprisingly, almost all of Tauriel's worry does vanish.
"Tauriel, you are safe."
"Can you tell me what happened?" Arodeth asks. "You don't have to, if you don't want to. I understand if you'd rather not discuss it."
"No, no it's fine. I should probably get used to telling my story with the impending trial."
Taking a deep breath, Tauriel begins recounting her evening to Arodeth; beginning from the point they split up at the party. She tells her all about Erwarth and his banishment, and then about being woken up for false summons.
She recounts the attack, her stomach twisting, not out of fear, but out of shame.
Had I been in peak health none of this would be happening. I could have subdued him in no time.
Tauriel vows to herself that when this is all over she is going to throw herself into training and gain back the skills she's let slip.
She ends her story with how gleeful Lord Haewon seemed to be by her detainment.
"I've never liked that man," Arodeth scowls. "He thinks he's royalty, when he's really just a horse's ass."
"How is it you always know what to say to cheer me up?"
"Just a gift, I suppose. Is there anything I can bring you?"
Sighing, Tauriel shakes her head.
"No, I doubt they'd let you smuggle a proper mattress down here," she says, glancing at the forlorn pallet bed.
"Probably not. I can take care of that for you though."
Arodeth is pointing to the King's balled up nightshirt on the bed. Tauriel opens her mouth and closes it, not sure what to say, but not wanting the shirt taken away.
"Oh, just— just leave it. I don't have a pillow."
A loud clanging on the cell bars startles both of them.
"Maid, your time is up," a guard calls.
"You won't be here long, you'll see," Arodeth assures her. "I have to go now, but I'll be back first thing to check on you."
"Thank you."
Tauriel watches her leave, wondering how she could have gotten so lucky with the random assignment of her maid. Before the battle she'd never allowed herself to be given a maid, feeling the overwhelming need to be as self-sufficient as possible. Now she wonders how much she's missed out on had Arodeth always been with her.
The day passes agonizingly slow.
No one else comes to visit her, aside from the guard that delivers her food. Her meals are subpar compared to her usual fare, but Tauriel forces herself to eat it.
Then, despite her aching body, she tries exercising. Push-ups and sit-ups almost bring her to tears, but she pushes herself anyway. When she reaches her limit she settles onto the floor and cools down with some basic stretches.
Despite all this, she still has far too much free time on her hands, and wishes she would have asked Arodeth to bring her a book or something.
Tauriel retreats to the furthest corner of her bed, pressing her back to the wall. She picks up the King's nightshirt and worries the soft material between her fingers.
The dungeon grows darker and she knows it is getting late; the guards are extinguishing most of the torches outside in the hall.
She pulls her knees to her chest once more and bows her head, bringing the borrowed shirt up to her nose to inhale it's comforting scent.
She isn't sure how much time passes before she thinks she hears footsteps outside of her cell.
Popping her head up she sees the outline of someone just beyond her bars.
"Tauriel."
"My King!"
Blushing a bit, she tucks the shirt she'd just been smelling behind her and rushes over to the door.
"I just came to inform you that your trial is being rushed. The council seems rather eager to put this behind them," he says. "It begins tomorrow."
"Oh… so soon?" she questions, biting her lip.
"You have nothing to fear. All the evidence supports that you were attacked."
"And yet I'm down here in the first place. There is something more going on… something feels off."
"You think this is more than an isolated incident?" he asks.
Tauriel leans closer to the gate, wrapping her fingers around the bars.
"I think we can't ignore the possibility. I was attacked twice on the same night, by two different people, and now despite clearly being the victim, the council is after me."
Thranduil glances around him, and moves in so she can hear him.
"Let's just get you through this first, and when you're free we'll work on the rest. Together."
Unable to hold her tongue, Tauriel asks something that has been bothering her.
"Why do you care so much? About what happens to me."
He's quiet for so long she doesn't think he'll answer. She's about to pull away and return to her bed, but his hand reaches out for hers where it rests on the prison bars.
"I've lost too many of my people already, Tauriel. I won't lose another. Especially one I— one I saved so many years ago."
His hand drops and she tries to ignore the sense of loss.
"I feel responsible for you," he finishes.
She doesn't know how to respond, so Tauriel remains silent.
"Here," he says, reaching a hand through the bars. "Take this. It's mine, but I'd feel better if you had it right now."
She takes his offering and holds it up to inspect it. The torchlight from outside the cell reflects off the blade of a small, intricately decorated, dagger. The hilt is black obsidian and there is a sapphire adorning the pommel.
"It's more of a ceremonial tool, but if you are attacked again it should do the job. Just keep it tucked away. They won't search you."
"Thank you," she whispers, still studying the delicate blade.
Thranduil looks both ways down the hall.
"I should go. I slipped down here as the guards were changing shifts. I don't want anyone to see me."
"Probably not a good idea for the King to be seen paying late night visits to traitors," she says, half joking.
"After tomorrow no one will think you a traitor," he insists.
Before she can ask him to elaborate he's gone, and Tauriel is left alone in the darkness, clinging to her borrowed blade.
Author's Note: Conspiracy, traitors, and betrayal, oh my! Please let me know what you think! I'm trying to keep the characters as close to "in character" as possible, though I feel I'm probably straying a bit. Hope it's not too much that it ruins the story for you!
Reviews are always read, and always appreciated! Thank you!