"I want to be Queen."
Thranduil stands perfectly still, not even blinking as he tries to process her words.
"I don't understand," he finally says, her plan still a jumbled knot of frayed string in his mind.
"What is there to understand? It is fairly simple," Neleth says with a shrug. "I want you to complete the bargain our parents struck when we were children."
"Why? You don't… you're not—?"
"In love with you?"
She tosses her head back and laughs, the chiming melodic sound so at odds with her newly revealed personality.
"No, no," she continues still laughing. "Is that a difficult concept for you? It must be. I know how you must be so used to those court slatterns throwing themselves at your feet."
Thranduil doesn't respond, instead just watching her closely as she saunters his way.
"Perhaps I thought myself in love with you once," she sighs, "when I was younger. I mean, no one could deny your appeal; Thranduil, son of Oropher, glorious warrior and future King. Not now, though."
"Then I am afraid I don't know what you want."
"I want to rule."
Neleth stops in front of him, just inches away, and Thranduil has to fight the urge to strike out at her.
"Why would I agree to marry you? To give you power over my kingdom?" he asks, already knowing her answer.
"Because if you don't, Tauriel will die."
X
"You're lying," Tauriel accuses Erwarth, knowing he has no reason to do so at this point.
"I don't care if you believe me, but I'm not lying. Lady Neleth has some truly wonderful plans laid out. She's a visionary," Erwarth tells her, his voice taking on an almost dreamy quality.
Before Tauriel can say another word, Erwarth turns and retreats back to his tent.
"Do you think it's true?" Tauriel asks, turning to look at Grond.
The look he gives her answers his question before he even opens his mouth.
"I think that's much more likely than Lord Haewon being the culprit," he says. "I can understand why you would think it was him, but honestly I don't think the man is smart enough to be the mastermind behind such a conspiracy."
The low level panic that has been in Tauriel's stomach for days flares to life, stronger than ever. All she can suddenly see is Lady Neleth and Thranduil pressed close together over his desk, and talking business over late dinners.
He has no idea how much danger he's in!
I need to get out of here.
"We need to get back," Tauriel whispers, speaking out of the corner of her mouth so no one will pay attention to them.
"To be honest I can't say that has not crossed my mind," Grond says sarcastically.
He shifts, trying to sit up straighter, and grunts in pain.
"How are you feeling?" she asks, worry clouding her features.
"I'll live. Well, probably… but I don't think I'd be mush help in a daring escape."
She snorts.
"Just let me know if you think of one. I'm afraid I'm at a loss."
X
"What makes you think I would hand over half my kingdom for the life of one soldier?" Thranduil asks, voice icy and trying his hardest to stand tall.
"We're not going to play that game now, are we? We both know she is much more than a soldier. Don't bother denying it."
"Even so, that is one life weighed against the lives of thousands."
"It's not as if I plan to go on a murderous rampage as Queen," Neleth scoffs. "I want to help our people! I want to give them back what you stole!"
"What is that?" he asks.
"The light. Your fear drove us into the shadows, and we have been living but half lives for centuries now, cowering like vermin lest we draw the attention of something bigger and more sinister than us."
"I suppose this plan of yours to… return the light… somehow involves an army of Orcs?"
"Yes, but all in good time, my dear. I won't spell everything out for you just yet. Why don't we leave a little mystery for the honeymoon?"
Neleth eyes him shrewdly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Fine. I can wait," she says when he refuses to reply.
"Wait for what?"
She smiles wickedly once more.
"You don't really think you can survive another loss like this, do you? I remember losing Gilrin almost killed you. Your light would have faded had it not been for Legolas. Do you think he'll be able to help you this time? To help bring you back from the pain of losing the woman you pushed him away from?"
She sighs and shrugs.
"He's so very far away from home… who is to say he'll even make it back in time? If he ever makes it back, that is."
Thranduil close the distance between them, his icy eyes raining glacial fury down upon her.
"You dare threaten my son?"
"Of course not, my King," Neleth says sweetly. "In fact perhaps it would be easier dealing with Legolas. He'll be eager to shift away from your policies when he learns of your betrayal. The betrayal to him, and to his mother's memory."
Thranduil says nothing, seething in anger as he watches the woman before him, contemplating tossing her from the nearest window he can find.
She reaches up to place a hand on his cheek, and he tries to hold the bile rising in his throat back.
"So, my King," she coos, "what do you say? Will you trade your hand for Tauriel's life?"
Thranduil's mind races, running through all the options he is left with, and Neleth just shakes her head.
"You cannot out-maneuver me on this," she insists. "I have eyes and ears all over, much closer to you than you would imagine. If I go missing, or am thrown in jail, or if you send out another search party, they will know and the order for her execution will be given. You have only one choice where everyone comes out of this alive."
He knows she must have overlooked something, there has got to be a detail, or scenario she never imagined, but until he sees it, Thranduil must play along.
"Shall we send out save the dates, or do you wish to elope?" he asks dryly, rage and distaste emanating from him in crashing waves.
"No need for either. We'll marry at the next full moon, and tonight," she smirks, "you can ask Lord Elrond to perform the ceremony."
With all that has been happening, Thranduil had forgotten that tonight is the night Lord Elrond will be arriving… and the next full moon is in two days.
"I will not tolerate any trickery. You will not say anything to Lord Elrond about your motivations, and you will not act as if anything is amiss. You are to continue about your business as usual."
Thranduil stares at the woman in front of him and wonders how he could have misread her so thoroughly. He had never paid her much mind beyond the council meetings, and had somehow overlooked her inherent maliciousness.
"Do we have a deal?" she asks.
He knows what Tauriel would say. She would warn him against making a deal with this woman even if it meant sacrificing her life… but he is also fairly certain that were their positions exchanged, and he were the one in danger, Tauriel would do whatever she could to save him; even if he wouldn't want her to.
"I'll be wearing red tonight," he tells her, his tone clipped. "It is customary for betrothed to compliment one another."
"Such a romantic," Neleth mock sighs.
Thranduil gives her one more withering glare before turning on heel and marching out of her chambers.
He is about to storm back to his own rooms and fume when he remembers Arradon is still guarding his father, so he instead heads back to Lord Haewon's chamber.
When he arrives, Haewon is sitting back down at his table, sullenly watching his son, as Arradon leans pompously against the wall by the door, seemingly unfazed by his task.
"Well?" Arradon asks, standing up straight when Thranduil reenters. "What happened?"
"Lord Haewon, I hereby strip you of your role as councilman, for the crimes of slander against myself, and members of my guard. You are confined to castle grounds until further review is made, and your punishment decided," Thranduil says. "There is no need for you to continue guarding him, Arradon. You may return to your music."
Haewon stands up, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping out of water, but his sputtering is unintelligible and Thranduil leaves before he finds his tongue.
It doesn't take long for Arradon to catch up to him.
"Tell me what is happening? Is Lady—?" he tries to ask, but Thranduil cuts him off.
"Not here," he mutters from the corner of his mouth. Then much louder he adds, "Yes, I have time this afternoon. You can bring your sheet music then and show me what you want to discuss about the banquet."
Arradon is quick on the uptake and nods.
"Thank you, my King. I appreciate your time."
He gives Thranduil a small bow and turns to walk in the opposite direction.
X
Throughout the day Tauriel and Grond watch as two more fights break out amongst the Orcs, leading to several more casualties.
One of the fights includes at least four of the creatures tearing into one another at the edge of camp.
Tauriel watches as one Orc rips a dagger from it's shoulder and tosses it behind him, right near the bushes she's been allowed to use to relieve herself.
When she looks over to Grond he's already watching her and she knows he saw it as well. She nods once, and an understanding falls between them.
Tonight.
Trying to pass the time, and keep the nervous energy at bay, the two start talking, swapping stories, in between being told to shut up by their captors.
Grond tells Tauriel about his early days in the guard, and how limited his duties used to be, back when the kingdom was much more shutoff than it is now. How he used to be stuck as a gate guard.
"I can see why they would do that," she shrugs. "I mean… you are pretty intimidating. If an enemy saw you at the gate, they would probably second guess their plan."
Grond just gives her a sarcastic side-eye.
"Alright," Tauriel sighs, "I have to ask. What is with the hair? Don't get me wrong, I like it, and it suits you, I've just never seen an elf wear their hair in a bun before."
"Pretty simple answer," he tells her. "Once, in the middle of a fight, I was focused on the guy in front of me, when the guy behind me grabbed hold of my long braids and yanked me backwards. I was on the ground about to be finished, and would have been, if not for one of our archers taking him out. Since then though, I don't like to leave my hair down. I consider it a tactical advantage."
"Hmm."
Grond opens his mouth to say something else, but gasps, and doubles forward as far as he can.
"Are you okay?" she asks, worried.
"It's… getting… worse again."
"Okay, shhh. No more talking," Tauriel orders. "Try to rest. We'll get you help soon."
X
Within forty minutes, Arradon is being escorted into Thranduil's council chambers, a stack of music in his hand.
"Your Majesty," he begins, "I had a few ideas I wanted to discuss with you. I felt some of the changes I want are perhaps drastic, and want to ensure your approval beforehand. I thought that perhaps if we added another row of musicians to—"
"Yes," Thranduil sighs, "just a moment. Nimmon, could you have some wine sent in? Ask that maid, what's her… Arodeth. Tell her I want the same year she brought me last time."
"Yes, my King," Nimmon bows, showing himself out, and closing the door behind him.
"I don't know whom I can trust," Thranduil tells Arradon, standing up from his desk. "Aside from you, and that meddling maid of Tauriel's."
"Is it true? Lady Neleth is behind Tauriel and her patrol's disappearance? Behind this supposed Orc army?"
"I'm afraid so. She says she has eyes everywhere, and if I don't comply with her demand, or if anything happens to her, her people will ensure Tauriel is executed."
"Do you believe her, that there are really spies all around?" Arradon asks, glancing around the room, paranoid.
"I don't know, but it isn't a bluff I'm willing to call."
"What is it she is demanding?"
"Lady Neleth is demanding that we marry," Thranduil explains, the words leaving a foul taste in his mouth.
"What? But… even if you do marry her, why would she free Tauriel? What's to stop her from continuing to hold her hostage and use her as leverage?"
"Nothing. Which is why you're here. I need your help."
"Of course! What do you need?" Arradon asks, puffing up.
"You were there when Tauriel got the change of orders, do you know where they were heading?"
"Yes! She said they were heading off southeast from where the Enchanted River bends, towards the mountains. Your search parties were in the wrong area. You need to send a patrol out, now."
"I can't," Thranduil explains, "I can't trust them, and I can't trust that word won't get back to Neleth. Which is why I have to go myself."
Arradon is just about to argue, when Arodeth walks in, carrying a platter with wine and goblets, and wearing a sincerely confused expression.
Arradon closes the door behind her quickly.
"I've never brought you wine," she tells him, setting the tray down on his desk. "I assume there is something you wished to share, but wished to keep quiet as well?"
Thranduil quickly catches the maid up, and Arradon blocks the door when she threatens to go beat Neleth over the head with a six-hundred year old bottle of wine.
"I need your help," Thranduil tells her, "both of your help. You are the only ones I trust."
"Why?" Arodeth asks. "Why do you trust us?"
"Because in all my time as King you two, and Tauriel, are the only ones I can ever remember bursting in on me unannounced, and most of the time fuming," he says dryly. "I know you care for her, and therefore I know I can trust you."
"What can we do?"
"Arradon, I need you to get a message to Lord Elrond tonight after dinner… after I announce my betrothal. Just get him to understand I am being blackmailed, and need his assistance. I know I can trust him as well. I need as much time as I can buy to get to Tauriel and her patrol before Neleth knows I'm gone," Thranduil explains. "Tell him I want him to seek Neleth out tomorrow morning, and keep her busy preparing the ceremony for as long as he can."
"And me?" the maid asks.
"I need you to divert anyone away who wishes to see me tomorrow. You are to serve me, and you alone. Tell people I'm sick, tell them I have a case of pre-wedding jitters, just keep everyone out of my bedchambers lest they realize I am gone."
"I'm going with you," Arradon says matter-of-factly.
"I'm going on my own."
"There are three reasons that is not happening. One, I may not be a guard member any more, but I still cannot let my King go into danger without assistance. Two, you don't know what shape they are going to be in, and may need help getting them back. Three, you are not the only one who cares, and King or not, shy of driving your blade into my heart you will not stop me from finding them."
Arradon stares Thranduil down defiantly, refusing to back down, until finally Thranduil curses under his breath.
"Fine," he says. "We leave tonight, as soon as you speak to Lord Elrond."
Author's Note: A little shorter than the last chapter, but I thought this a good place to stop... just before everything hits the fan! Can't wait to hear your thoughts! As always, thank you for the wonderful reviews! 3