THE FORGOTTEN
Iaur Hîr Thîr Paeb
Former Lord Sour Face
Author's note: The chapter in which – Lothril refuses to take orders and Thranduil launches an investigation. …For those of you playing along with the entire Forgotten Tales of Arda series, this is the third (at the moment) and last segment of stories that involve Acharon. Previous stories/chapters involving this character include: A Walk In The Rain, and Forgotten Tales of Thranduil: Thranduil Verses the Nosy Nobles. Oh, and I really wanted to call this chapter "Inspector Thranduil" but I couldn't find a word for inspector, detector, or investigator so I went with Former Lord Sour Face.
Lothril had only been back in the Woodland Realm a week and was still getting her bearings when she decided one morning she wanted to try venturing to the bakery by herself. Estelneth had the morning off to attend her granddaughter's five hundredth birthday but insisted on being allowed to return later in the day to make sure she was being attended to properly. In any event, this was her morning off and after a breakfast of bacon and eggs with Thranduil and Legolas, she wanted a cup of tea and something sweet. She supposed a cup of tea from the kitchen and whatever little goodies the baker had going should be easy enough to procure herself, and she was in want of walk. Legolas was set to go see Filegon for a fitting for the betrothal announcement then he had plans to work in his garden after and she had been extended an invitation to join him; which she was planning on doing after a walk, tea, and something sweet.
She was musing over what she thought the dinner party introducing her to the court was going to be like as she walked, and being still largely unfamiliar with the huge place, she left the stairs a floor too early and was halfway down the hall before she realized her mistake. She realized she was actually near the throne room and had half a mind to pop in and say hello to Thranduil who had said at breakfast he was going to be there for a few hours. As Lothril understood it, part of the gob of paperwork he had to catch up on could only be made official if read and signed in front of the official clerk of the court and a certain number of witnesses and it was just easier and faster to do it in the throne room. She decided against going in however as she figured he would much rather just get it done and over with and so turned around. She had only gone a few paces when she heard someone behind her say something.
"You there, fetch me the book of charters from the library and bring it to me in the council chambers," came what was undoubtedly one of the rudest sounding voices she had heard from an elf.
It surprised her so much that she turned around and stared at the speaker wide eyed. He was a tall, skinny thing with light brown hair and hazel eyes that beheld her disapprovingly. "I am sorry sir, but I cannot I-"
"Are you running an errand for the king?" he asked sharply and like someone who already knew the answer.
"No, but I-"
"Then fetch me the book of charters," he snapped.
She didn't know this elf from the man in the moon, but she already knew she did not care for him. Even as a human she had never gone to much effort to conceal her dislike for someone, and she was certainly not about to start pretending she liked someone she didn't now. "I cannot because-" she was attempting to tell him who she was, but he wouldn't let her. Instead he cut her off as he rapidly closed in on her.
"I will not tolerate insolence!" he said as he got within arm's reach and raised his hand and brought it swinging down to strike her. She grabbed his arm mid-swing and stopped it dead. "How dare you!" he cried and brought up his other arm and before he could bring it swinging down in a move that looked closer to dancing than fighting, she whipped him around so his back was to her and dislocated his shoulder and broke his forearm in one swift and graceful movement.
"Gu- oh, there you are!" she said as out of seemingly nowhere a pair of guards appeared before her and saluted her. "Take him to the king, and mind his left side – I dislocated his shoulder and broke his arm."
"We shall take him to the king, Lady Lothril," the guard said, "But you could by rights send him immediately to the dungeons if you so wished. We saw his abominable treatment of you and it would be well within your power."
"Nay, I would not be so presumptuous. I wish the king to be made aware of his conduct immediately and then unless the king says otherwise, have him taken to the healer before he is locked away," she replied.
The elf looked at her wide eyed and muttered, "Who-who are you?"
"That is a question you ought to have let me answer in the first place," she replied.
The elf, who was already looking pale from shock lost what precious little color was left in his face as the guards pulled him along behind her to the throne room. The doors opened for them and they were announced. Thranduil watched with more than a little curiosity as they approached. This was certainly not a scene he expected. As she drew near she reached out to his mind and quickly asked what she was supposed to do as she approached. His face betrayed absolutely nothing but she swore she felt a little amusement as he replied, "When you reach the bottom step, bow and remember to address me as 'your majesty' or King Thranduil." She thanked him and bowed and he said aloud, "Lady Lothril, what business has brought you here?"
"Your majesty, I have been forced to defend myself against this person. I was taking a walk through the hallway and this elf emerged from presumably another room, and called to me to fetch him a book of charters from the library. I told him I could not and tried to explain to him that I am not a servant and am the Prince's betrothed, but he would hear nothing past my decline. He asked if I was on an errand for you, and before I could explain myself he demanded I do his bidding. I refused and tried to explain a third time, but he went from rude to angry and yelled that he would not tolerate insolence and sought to strike me and so I caught his hand. Enraged, he sought to strike me with his other hand and so I spun him around and dislocated his shoulder and broke his arm where I held it and called for the guards."
Thranduil's face remained placid, but his eyes burned. "Were there any witnesses to this encounter?" he asked.
One of the guards stepped forward and bowed and said, "We witnessed the scene your majesty. He flew upon her so quickly that we feared we could not reach them in time and by the time we did milady had dispatched him."
"Is this true?" Thranduil asked Lothril.
"I did not notice them at first, but they did appear before I could call for them," she answered.
He nodded and beheld the miserable looking noble who was clearly in pain and trying to ignore it. "Acharon, are you in the habit of speaking rudely to my servants and striking them if they reply to you?"
"N-no, your majesty," he stammered.
"Are you then in the habit of abusing strangers? Or perhaps you bear a grudge against members of Elrond's family?"
"El-El-Elrond?" he asked, blanching further.
"She is his adopted daughter and he counts her as his own, and his sons count her as a sister as does his daughter, which also makes her not only a friend but also a sister by marriage of King Elessar of Gondor. They are the least of your worries however because she is Prince Legolas' betrothed and I have extended to her the rights and privileges of the royal family which means the penalty for striking her would be the same as if you struck me," Thranduil said, his displeasure creeping into his expression and voice.
"Your majesty," Lothril said quietly, "What is the penalty for striking a member of the royal family?"
"Death," Thranduil answered succinctly.
She nodded. She had figured as much. "King Thranduil, I petition you to grant him some mercy as he did not know who I am. At least, so far as penalties for striking a member of the royal family is concerned," she said, trying to make sure she was being clear without sounding like she was telling the king what to do or something.
"Did you hear that, Acharon? The elleth you would have struck is pleading for your mercy. She is kinder than I, for I was fully prepared to summon the executioner, but I shall consider her petition as she is the wronged party. You are however immediately and permanently stripped of your title, position, and good standing. You are immediately stripped of your lodging in my halls and I shall grant your wife twelve weeks to make other arrangements and lodge any complaints against you and your treatment of her. In the meantime, you shall reside in the dungeons. When I have weighed the matter, I shall summon you again and let you know how long you shall be living there and my final decision in regards to you striking Lady Lothril. Guards, take him away."
As soon as they were gone Thranduil came down from his throne and asked Lothril, "Are you truly well? Did he manage to hurt you?"
"I am quite fine. Dealing with him was easy. It is clear to me though he has a violent temper. I would be curious to know how many others he's struck who could not dodge him so easily. He had no hesitation or fear in his eyes as he spoke to me or raised his hand," she answered.
"As would I. I do not tolerate my servants being abused," he said. "Now, what brought you down here this morning before you were so ill-treated?"
"I was actually heading towards the bakery. I fancied something sweet, a cup of tea, and a walk so I decided to be efficient and do all three at once. As I am still getting my bearings, I left the stairs too soon and was preoccupied with my own thoughts and didn't realize my error until I was part way down the hall which is when I ran into Sir Sour Face," she answered.
Thranduil laughed at her nick-name for him. "I see you share my sense of humor. He has been a thorn in our sides since his father retired and began keeping cattle. I have never understood how his son is so opposite of him. I am sure learning his twit of a son tried to strike you will grieve him deeply, but his son has been grieving him for centuries I think. For as ill tempered, ambitious, and apparently abusive as Acharon is, his father is even tempered, content, and kind." He shook his head. "I hope he has not been hitting his wife. She seems so sweet and gentle. If I find he has though, I may well let Mandos judge him. But that is something we shall learn in time. In the meantime, I am deeply horrified at what has happened and I apologize that you were unable to walk in my halls alone without being attacked. Please forgive us. That was inexcusable."
"You are quite forgiven, but it was not your doing," she said.
"No, but this is my kingdom and my palace and if my son's betrothed cannot walk past my throne room without being attacked then there is a serious problem," he replied.
"I think there is a serious problem with him mostly. He was the singularly rudest elf, nay, rudest person I have met yet in Middle-earth bar Saruman and his lackey Grima Wormtongue. I know little of politics here, but I do know I only hold that Acharon fellow responsible for his own actions. You are his king, but he is a full grown ellon with free will. He knows what he does and he chose to behave deplorably."
"You think that, yet you would grant him mercy?" Thranduil asked with a raised brow.
"Only so far as penalties against the royal family are concerned. I have no idea what the laws are, but I fully expect him to bear the full weight of his crimes of striking another unprovoked. Whatever that charge is and whatever the penalty, he knew what that was when he struck me, regardless of who or what he thought I was. I have not been introduced to court though, and I have changed much in looks since I left, so I cannot find it in my heart to condemn him to death for striking me as a member of the royal family because he did not know that I was. It is that mercy that I extend him for though he is guilty of striking a royal member, he did not know it. I know full well that actions have consequences seen and unforeseen, but I have been shown great mercy and forgiveness in my life and so I would pass it on to others. I believe there are occasions where justice must bear down in full upon a guilty party, and times where it can and should be mixed with mercy. I was not harmed, he was, and so I am willing to temper justice with mercy in this case. Of course, I am no judge or master of the law and this matter is yours so I will bow to whatever your decision may be."
He stared at her a moment, his face betraying nothing of his thoughts and at length he said, "Legolas has chosen his wife well. You will be a good leader to our people in Ithilien."
She blushed. "I certainly hope so. I know nothing of being a princess."
"Perhaps not, but you are clearly an elleth of principles and did not let yourself become blinded by his actions against you. You considered it from all sides and made an appeal to fairness, justice, and mercy in equal balance. I was not exaggerating when I said I was ready to summon the executioner, but you have tempered my wrath with consideration and I shall give the matter more thought before I pronounce my final judgement," he said. "In the meantime, should you like an escort down to the bakery?"
"Only if you are already heading that way; otherwise I am not fearful to continue on alone," she replied.
"I needed a break anyway and I think a cup of tea and a walk will help me clear my head," he responded.
She smiled and once again they headed down towards the lower level. They were just about to the stairs when she asked, "I know this is hardly my fanciest dress, but do I look like a servant in this?"
"Not at all," he answered, "generally speaking they do not wear such large sleeves as they get in the way, nor do they wear anything with a train or so long as it is likely to get caught on the stairs. Surely you have noticed what Estelneth wears."
"Yes, and she always looks very nice and quite practical, though I would not be surprised to learn that is how she dresses on her days off," Lothril replied.
Thranduil smiled, "It is hard to say. Giving her time off is nearly impossible."
"I noticed," Lothril replied.
"Why do you ask if you look like a servant?"
"I am trying to figure out why he was so convinced that I should go fetch that book of charters for him. If I looked like a servant, I would understand, but if I do not then I can only conclude he thinks too much of himself and I suddenly feel less bad about dislocating his shoulder and breaking his arm."
"You feel badly about that?"
"Mostly the arm. The shoulder can be popped back in place easily. The arm though, I think I snapped through both bones in the forearm and that hurts a great deal and shall take a long while to heal. To say nothing of the terrific bruise I left. However, if he thought he was going to boss around some random person that was not a servant, I do not feel bad at all."
"You needn't feel bad about any of it. Think no more of the matter nor of him. Even if I decide to spare his life, I shall make sure he stays in the dungeons until you and Legolas have moved to Ithilien. If I remember rightly, the penalty for mistreating the servants is a twenty to forty years in prison or fifty years working as a servant, unlawfully striking a servant is fifty to seventy-five years and attacking another unprovoked is up to one hundred and twenty-five years. I shall be punishing him on at least these three charges and I can decide whether or not I wish to have the sentences served simultaneously or consecutively, so he could easily spend two hundred and forty years down there and another ten as a servant, but I shall make up my mind later."
Before lunch Thranduil summoned Legolas to his study.
"Have you spoken with Lothril today?" Thranduil asked.
"Not since breakfast. She was supposed to join me in my garden but then she never showed," Legolas answered.
"Ah, then let me congratulate you on your choice in a wife! If you were not planning on moving to Ithilien, I should consider abdicating so Lothril could be queen," Thranduil said as he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of tea.
"Oh? What did she do?"
"Dislocated Acharon's shoulder and broke his arm in what Raithon described as the most elegant dispatching of an opponent he has ever seen," Thranduil replied.
Legolas stared at his father wide eyed. "Why did she dislocate Acharon's shoulder? Not that I haven't wished to, but she could not have known him more than a few hours."
"By the story told to me, she knew him but a few seconds," Thranduil said and then proceeded to relay the entire story to Legolas, including their conversation afterwards.
Legolas looked equal parts outraged, impressed, and proud. What other elleth would handle herself so elegantly and wisely while dealing with such a despicable person? "What shall you do about Acharon?"
Thranduil frowned, "I am not sure. Tomorrow I am interviewing the servants that have attended them and see what they have to say about him and his wife. I will have his wife brought to me this afternoon and explain to her most of what happened and tell her she has twelve weeks to clear out their things and that if she has any charges to bring against him, before she leaves is the time to do so. If she does, I shall certainly grant her full protection. Depending on the nature of any charges she brings, she may not have to worry about him again. If she says he has been cruel to her and beat her, I shall have him executed for striking a royal family member. If she has no claim and counts him as a good husband to her, then I shall temper his punishment accordingly. I shall also tell her that if she has no other choice or desires it, I shall give her employment here. As long as the servants do not say she has been cruel to them also, I shall do what I can to make her comfortable."
Legolas nodded. "I think that is fair, and I think Lothril would approve."
"I think so too. She willingly deferred to whatever my judgement will be, but as she as the wronged party has extended mercy to him, I think I need to temper my judgement as well. If she is politically ambitious, she has made an excellent opening move for gaining the love and trust of the people," Thranduil said.
"Political ambition is, I think, the furthest thing from her mind," Legolas commented. "I dare say she even gave no thought to how our subjects would view her actions. For better or worse, she does not care about such things and acts on principle."
"I think you are right, especially after she explained her reasoning to me."
Legolas suddenly smiled. "I think I am going to go see about some flowers for Lothril."
"Get them from my garden. My lothil is all but flooding my flower beds and my mums are looking glorious. All my autumn blooms are doing very well this year," Thranduil said.
The next morning Thranduil began having the servants that attended Acharon summoned to him. Each one had the same story – Acharon was a demanding and rude elf, but not physically abusive. However he did seem to be prone to insulting servants whenever he was in a foul mood, which seemed to be about half the time. Accounts of his wife Helethien suggested she was nice enough but so quiet and withdrawn at times it was hard to get a read on her, and she was about as disinterested in her husband as a hervess (wife) could be, and the general opinion seemed to be that she would have moved in with one of her children (who had all vacated his large apartments in the palace for much humbler dwellings in the forest the moment they all came of age) but he told her she couldn't for appearances sake. Or so the servant gossip went.
Acharon's assertion of course was absurd because many a married elven couple lived apart at times and sometimes for years and no one thought anything of it. However, Acharon always seemed to have some sort of image he was trying (and failing) to project, so this actually made a good deal of sense to Thranduil's mind. He dismissed the last servant and as soon as they were gone, one of his servants entered and informed him Helethien wished to speak with him. He hadn't expected that…
"Send her in," Thranduil said.
Helethien entered, bowed, Thranduil bid her approach and offered her a seat which she took.
"What do you wish to speak with me about, Helethien?" Thranduil asked, face and voice very neutral. Hers not so much. She looked nearly cheery and was wearing a very bright and flattering outfit which contrasted greatly with the decidedly more subdued in color dress she had been wearing yesterday when he summoned her. She wasn't smiling, or at least was trying not to, but her cheeks bore a rosy glow he realized he hadn't seen in many long years and her eyes looked brighter than they had yesterday.
"My king, I simply wish to tell you I thank you kindly for your offer of charity, but I have no need of it. I sent word to my children yesterday of the situation and all of them offered to let me come live with them," she stated.
Thranduil allowed a polite smile on his face and said, "I am glad to hear that your family is so willing to take you in. Have you any charges to bring against your husband at this time, or would you still like to take a few weeks to make up your mind?"
At the mention of Acharon her face soured a little and she gave a very small sigh and said, "No, your majesty. I have no charges to bring, nor will I take a few weeks more to make up my mind, your majesty."
"Are you sure? I know I do not see you often, but it seems to me the difference in your countenance from yesterday to today is as drastic as night is from day. I cannot help but think it is because Acharon is locked away in my dungeon."
"To be perfectly honest – it is. He has been more like a task master than a husband for many long years and constantly demanding perfection of me whilst neglecting me as his wife and forever making excuses as to why he must work late constantly and why he cannot take time off to go see our children and why he can never help me. I am sick of it! He has never struck me, but he has certainly yelled at me, belittled me, and ignored me. And he has gotten so proud! He was always proud, but never how he is now. Now he is arrogant beyond words while simultaneously ever trying to prove he is as powerful and important as he pretends to be. If I may be perfectly candid, your majesty, I have been wanting to go stay with my children for three hundred years and he wouldn't let me, and if you left him locked up for three hundred years, I wouldn't be upset at all!" she vented.
"Helethien, I did not mention this yesterday as I wished to gain more knowledge of the situation before I began considering the penalties. What I did not disclose to you yesterday was that he attempted to strike Lady Lothril, the betrothed of Prince Legolas, and I have already extended to her the privileges of being a member of the royal family. Though she has not been introduced to the court as yet, the court was made aware of this prior to my return a week ago, which means your husband's life could legally be forfeit as he has struck a member of the royal family."
Helethien paled significantly at that proclamation and she said, "I-I understand, but King Thranduil, I cry you mercy. He is a pompous, arrogant, overbearing fool but he is still my husband."
"He is, and as his wife I ask for your opinion on why you think he would try to strike another elf, especially one that was clearly not a servant and unknown to him?" Thranduil asked.
"In truth, your highness, I have been asking myself that since you told me. He has always had a little bit of a temper, but he has never, to my knowledge, struck one of the servants or our children. He has certainly never struck me, but… I suppose in a way it was inevitable with his temper. He has been so greatly stressed what with all the extra projects he has been undertaking-"
"Extra projects?" Thranduil repeated. "I am on the counsel with all the lords and I am aware of all the projects and special committees we have at the moment and he is not involved in any of it."
Helethien looked dreadfully confused suddenly. "I suppose I could be mistaken, but no, he truly did tell me just three weeks ago he was very busy with a handful of special projects and research. I was fuming mad because it was an excuse to not visit our children for enderi (middle days/mid-year) or any autumn feasts again and one I could not argue against."
"I do not doubt you, Helethien," Thranduil said, his face still neutral but his mind turning over what she said. "I will make my decision about your husband's fate soon. In the meantime, do you know where your husband kept his paperwork and notes on his projects?"
"In his study," Helethien answered. "Or so I assume, your majesty. I know I have never seen papers lying about and he always spends a prodigious amount of time in there when he is home."
Thranduil nodded. "I see. Do you have any pressing business this afternoon?"
"I do not, my king."
"Then I shall send you back with a few of my servants to gather up his books and papers so we may review them. If we come across anything personal, we shall return it to you as soon as we may. How long do you think it shall be until you move in with your children?" Thranduil asked.
"It shall likely take me a few weeks to pack, your majesty," she answered.
"Very well. I intend to go through his papers immediately, so if we collect anything personal we will hopefully return it to you before you leave. If we do not finish going through his things before then, we will ask you to leave a forwarding address so we may send anything we may come across along," Thranduil said. "Is there anything else you wish to say while you are here?"
"Only that I hope my husband is not as big of a fool as I am starting to think he might be," Helethien said.
Thranduil sent six servants home with Helethien with instructions to gather everything and anything that was in Acharon's study along with anything that looked like a ledger, notebook, and so forth. He did tell them to exercise some discretion and if something was obviously a cookbook or a book of poetry or a book about birds or something to leave it there, but flip through it anyway to make sure something wasn't tucked in a page.
Judging by the way Helethien looked by the time she left, she was starting to wonder what on earth her husband was into, and Thranduil was starting to wonder if it was treason. Judging by her parting comment, she was possibly wondering the same. Acharon had always been a weaseling, power hungry, controlling, manipulative pain in his side… but looking to flex power in the counsel and looking to commit treason were two different things. Was he trying to get himself executed? Striking a royal family member and committing treason was a great way to get himself killed… slowly.
By late that evening, Thranduil had all of Acharon's books, ledgers, and notebooks stacked all over his antechamber. The large table was covered, the chairs were covered, and there was a neat stack by one edge of the edge of the table. Thranduil entered the antechamber, took one look at the books and summoned Galion and told him to call the lords and tell them to come to that room. Roughly thirty minutes later, eleven lords were gathered in various states of formal dress as it was clear some of them had been working and some had been home relaxing. Thranduil really didn't care though, contrary to popular opinion, and so said, "My lords, thank you for coming at such short notice. Yesterday you all were apprised of the situation regarding Acharon. After some investigation, I have reason to believe Acharon may have had designs and plans contrary to the will of the counsel and the crown. If one of you knows anything of his designs and wishes to speak now and save us all what I am certain will be hours of tedious reading, speak now. If any of you are complicit in his designs, I strongly encourage you to speak now, for if you do not, you will surely be found out in these books and I will show no mercy."
"Your majesty," said Lord Gwilithon, "since your departure for Lothlórien for the Prince's betrothal, Acharon has been carrying on about some sort of research project."
"Did he happen to mention anything about charters?" Thranduil asked.
"Not specifically, your majesty, but he has been spending prodigious amounts of time in the library and hall of records," Gwilithon answered.
"Does anyone know anything else that may be pertinent?" Thranduil asked as he looked around and then stared at his frequent co-conspirator Gadron.
Gadron, who took the hint and implication of Thranduil's stare, said, "No, your majesty. He only mentioned to me that it was very important and would give him the leverage he needed."
"Needed for what?" Thranduil asked with a gaze that threatened to bore a hole into Gadron.
"He did not say, your majesty. I simply assumed he meant leverage in counsel meetings, which was his usual goal, but that is purely my assumption," Gadron answered.
Gadron may have been a co-conspirator, but it had been clear to Thranduil for a very long time, Gadron wasn't nearly as ambitious as Acharon and was only in on the schemes that could possibly profit him if they succeeded, but he could bow out easily and lose little if they failed. So, at least for the moment, Thranduil believed him.
"Well then, everyone pick a stack of books and begin searching. I shall not keep you all here all night, but if we can get a quick survey of what is here and what may be relevant or irrelevant to our search that would be helpful as we go through things. Obviously if this is treason, this council shall have to review all of this anyway, and as we are all here, this will save us all a step," Thranduil said, himself taking a stack off of a chair, setting it down beside the chair, and then picking up the top book and began thumbing through it.
Apparently Acharon or Helethien had a taste for fiction and poetry, as there was a quickly growing stack of books being formed for the servants to return to Helethien. Absolutely no one thought they were Acharon's, which meant either his servants had gotten over zealous or else Acharon wanted his library to look more padded out so allowed his wife to keep her books in there. With the way they were tucked in between historical accounts, copies of law books, and various and sundry books that would be practical for a lord and someone who keeps track of trades and exchanges, Thranduil suspected they were padding. By the end of an hour, there was very nearly a whole bookshelf's worth of fiction and poetry stacked up for the servants to return, which left roughly two bookshelves worth of books for Acharon. So far, amongst the decidedly Acharon collection, there were ledgers upon ledgers of records that pertained to his office, which was expected, and ones that reflected household expenses, which seemed to be written out largely in his wife's hand. There were also copies of law books, which was to be expected, copies of charters, also somewhat expected, and copies of various things like the most recent census. Then there were the notebooks. Gwilithon seemed to be working through a very interesting stack of notebooks and he called over the king to show him a few things.
"Why on earth was he copying down all these ancient charters and agreements from when my father was king?" Thranduil asked.
"That was what I wondered three notebooks ago. Now I think I have an idea," Gwilithon said. He pulled out the first notebook and opened it to a random page and said, "If you skim through this, you will see copies of current agreements between tribes. If you skim through this book," Gwilithon said, pulling out the second, "you will see copies of ancient agreements between tribes from before King Oropher came. And if you look through this one, you will see what is essentially the history of how your father united the tribes through copies of treaties and agreements."
Thranduil nodded. This was starting to make sense. "Good work, Gwilithon." He stood and said, "Thank you everyone for your efforts, I believe I have found the thread I am looking for. It is late, so I will let you all return home. In the coming days I may enlist your help again if I deem it necessary, but it will be more at your leisure. You are all dismissed."
Gwilithon stood to leave but then paused and asked, "King Thranduil, will you be returning early from your sabbatical to apprise us of things or shall we be waiting until your scheduled return?"
"I will not be returning early, but I may call a special counsel meeting if I think the situation warrants it," Thranduil answered.
"Are you still suspecting treason?" Gwilithon asked pointedly.
"I am not sure if I am thinking treason or secession. I will keep you informed," Thranduil answered. "But would not a tribe's secession be dependent on the will of the tribe, not just the lord?"
"I believe it varies tribe to tribe," Gwilithon replied. "Most of our tribes seem to have relatively similar structure and bylaws, but there are variations and some significant ones. In the meantime though, his tribe is currently without a lord and a new one shall need to be appointed and soon."
"As the appointing of new lords has never been in the king's purview, I am happy to let you all proceed without me," Thranduil replied.
"That is just it though – all three of his children have turned down the position," Gwilithon said.
"Oh?" Thranduil asked with a raised brow.
"The eldest son said he has no interest in politics. The second son said he is busy helping his grandfather run his dairy farm, and his daughter is expecting her second child this summer," Gwilithon answered.
"Ah, I see. Remind me, what is the protocol then if something like this occurs?" Thranduil asked.
"Ah, here is one of the areas where there is a little tribe to tribe, but given all three of his children declined immediately, I have spent the day reviewing their tribe's laws and traditions. It can go to his wife if his heirs refuse."
"You may ask her, but I think it very likely she will decline," Thranduil interjected.
"Then it goes to the nearest relative," Gwilithon said.
"Do you happen to know who that may be?" Thranduil asked.
"Brenion."
"Brenion?!" Thranduil repeated, as shocked as he had been in a very long time.
Gwilithon nodded. "I had the same reaction, but we checked the family tree records. He is, in fact, Acharon's cousin."
"I had no idea," Thranduil said.
"Neither did we. It seems when he married, he realized the minute his uncle retired Acharon would take over so he essentially defected to his wife's tribe."
"Smart move."
"Indeed. What do you suppose the odds are he will want to leave your stables?" Gwilithon asked wryly.
"Next to none. The only way we will ever get him to leave those stables for the council is if we take every last horse out of them and bring them to the council chamber," Thranduil said dryly.
"Well then, unless one of Brenion's children wishes to take over, then the tribe will have to elect a new leader," Gwilithon said.
"When do you suppose that happened last?" Thranduil asked idly.
"According to records, sometime during the very end of the First Age," Gwilithon answered.
"You have certainly done your research," Thranduil commented.
"Well, your majesty, I certainly had not meant to, but in trying to learn if he had any brothers or sisters I stumbled onto the rest."
"I thought he did have a brother and a sister," Thranduil said.
"He does not have a sister, only a sister by marriage. His brother was killed in a hunting accident a week after you left when the queen was attacked on the road to Lothlórien. Legolas attended the funeral and did a masterful job handling everything, by the way."
"Why was I not told?"
"I believe it was made mention of upon your return, but there was so much that happened during that time, that I am sure it simply slipped your mind. As it was, Legolas wrote a beautiful letter of condolence on your behalf and everyone seemed very touched at the gesture. And of course everyone knew why you were gone and so understood," Gwilithon replied.
Thranduil nodded. "Well, you have certainly answered my questions and been very helpful. Give my apologies to your wife for keeping you so long."
"Actually, I must thank you. She made steamed fish and boiled cabbage and I despise both," Gwilithon said. "I love her cooking, except steamed fish and boiled cabbage. I think she is mad at me for forgetting our anniversary."
"When was it?"
"Yesterday."
"Oooh," Thranduil said with a wince. "I feel a bit responsible, though I think we can all safely blame Acharon. Regardless though, as your king I will help you make amends. Go out to my garden and cut a bouquet for her and I will have the kitchens send up dessert."
"Thank you, my king," Gwilithon said with a grateful bow.
"You are welcome, now go! Your wife awaits!"
With that Gwilithon left and Thranduil immediately rang for a servant and quickly wrote out a note that read, "Dear Calenthel, Please forgive me for keeping your good husband Gwilithon from you on your anniversary and this evening. By means of apology, I send you these treats and am excusing Gwilithon from regular council meetings for the next three days. –King Thranduil" The servant appeared, Thranduil handed him the note and said, "Rush down to the bakery and see that they send up desserts for Lord Gwilithon and Lady Calenthel right away. Also send up a bottle of wine that pairs well with the dessert. If you have any doubts, ask Galion to choose it and send it all up together, and quickly as possible."
"It shall be done, your majesty," the servant said with a quick bow and hurried off.
Thranduil smiled then his attention was drawn back to the huge stack of books, grabbed the three Gwilithon had pointed out to him and put them in his study before heading to his bedroom. He was about to get ready for bed and do some light reading with a glass of wine when he changed his mind and headed down to dungeon. He had one of the guards tell him which cell Acharon was in and asked if Acharon had been talking at all.
"Mostly it has been him berating himself for losing his temper," the guard replied.
The guard led him to the cell and before anyone else could say anything Thranduil said, "I have found your notebooks, Acharon. Would you care to confess what you were plotting now or shall I continue on with my suspicions of treason and bring charges accordingly?"
Acharon sighed and slumped against the cell wall and said, "Might as well. I am dead anyway. It was not treason. Some while ago I stumbled upon the ancient agreements between the tribes and King Oropher by accident and saw a clause that would allow for a tribe to remove themselves from the kingdom and resume an independent status. I started digging into the laws to see if I could feasibly use a threat of withdrawal of my tribe as leverage in council meetings to get my way with restructuring territories after the war."
"Restructuring territories? Acharon, you know full well we barely pay any mind to territorial lines between the tribes. There has been so much intermarriage that the tribes barely exist as they once did," Thranduil said.
"I wanted a greater jurisdiction as judge."
"I see." Could he get anymore petty? "So were you drunk on the potential of hearing more cases about property lines and who gets to keep the foal when the stud jumps the fence or were you upset to learn it was not as likely to go as you hoped when you encountered Lady Lothril and decided to strike her for being insolent?"
It was fairly dark down there, but even in the dark and Acharon being half buried in shadow, Thranduil could feel the frustrated anger rolling off him and could see it in his posture before he composed himself and said, "I was behind on my regular duties and trying to quickly catch up on some research before today's council meeting."
"I see. So you being so busy researching how to leverage your tribe into a larger jurisdiction and more power for yourself, you neglected your actual duties and in a panic to look prepared, you tried to cram days worth of work into hours and upon encountering something that would be tantamount to a vague inconvenience under normal conditions, you lost your temper, attempted to strike a passing elleth, and received a dislocated shoulder and broken arm for your pains," Thranduil said.
Acharon sighed and hung his head. "That is about the size of it, your majesty."
"Have the healers been down to see you?" Thranduil asked.
"No," Acharon answered, sounding utterly ashamed. "They did not have the chance. I was not down here an hour when Lady Lothril appeared and argued her way in past the guards to see me, demanded to be permitted into my cell and healed me herself."
"She did?" Thranduil asked, trying not to sound half as shocked as he was at the revelation. "What did she say to you?"
"Very little. She came down, healed me, asked me how everything felt then told me she hoped one day I turn into a decent sort of person that people like to be around instead of make miserable, and that she is petitioning for me to not be executed, and if I am that she will push for it to be swift and painless and left."
Thranduil didn't even know how to react to that. She hadn't said it, but it was clear she had forgiven him. She was showing him love, mercy, and compassion while still allowing for justice and mercy within that justice. "Take heart Acharon. This may prove to be one of the best things that happened to you, if it does not kill you. If it does though, it will be painless."
"Your majesty, may I ask you a question?" Acharon asked, sounding very nearly humble for the first time since Thranduil had met him.
"You may."
"How did my wife take the news of my imprisonment?"
"I did not tell her that you may be executed at first, and so when she came to see me this morning, she looked very nearly glad and relieved to be given a break from you and allowed to go see her children. When I told her you may be executed, she promptly asked me to spare your life if I could. Over all, Acharon, I think the only person in the entire kingdom that does not despise you to some degree is Lady Lothril. Whatever I do decide to do with you in the end, I will spare you long enough to contemplate your deeds that have driven your sweet, devoted wife to be glad to have a reprieve of you, children who cannot be bothered to carry on your legacy in court, left you with no friends, and the only person besides your wife who cares to see you not executed is the elleth you tried to assault. Think it all over Acharon. Carefully," Thranduil said and without another word turned and left Acharon alone with his thoughts.
As Thranduil headed back upstairs he thought over what Lothril had done. The very idiot that assaulted her she immediately began advocating for, healed, and if Acharon's account was to be believed, she would continue advocating for him. If Legolas wasn't planning on removing himself to Ithilien, he'd be half tempted to tell Acharon's tribe to consider her for their new lord. She would certainly be an improvement… she could not possibly be worse!
He reached the hallway the royal bedrooms were on and detoured to Lothril's room. A servant answered and immediately bowed and Thranduil said, "I wish to speak with Lady Lothril."
The servant quickly ducked into the bedroom and a moment later Lothril appeared in the antechamber to find Thranduil sitting in an armchair.
"Good evening, Thranduil. What brings you here so late?" Lothril asked, coming over and assuming the other chair.
"I had a most fascinating conversation just now," Thranduil said.
"Oh?"
"Acharon said you received a visit from you yesterday after I left your company and told you to think no more of him," Thranduil said, his face completely neutral.
"I did not think of him. I went to see him, decided to try my hand at healing a dislocated shoulder and a broken arm as I haven't had the chance to actually practice on an actually dislocated shoulder or broken arm before, and left," she replied. "And I honestly have not thought of him since."
"You left out a part."
"What part?"
"The part where you told him you are advocating he live, and if I decide to execute him, that it is swift and painless," Thranduil said.
"Oh, well he honestly seems like a weasel, but he looked so utterly despairing and miserable that I felt sorry for him and decided to say something," Lothril said.
"He is a weasel, and with your kindness and words you have thrown into his face everything he is not. In all of this, you and his wife are the only two people who seem to care if he lives or dies. His servants are glad to be rid of him, his children have had nothing to do with him since they have come of age, and his wife is even glad to be given a reprieve from his constant company," Thranduil said. "And you, single handedly, are making my decision difficult."
Lothril got a funny look on her face and replied, "Well, I am sorry for that."
"What would you do if things were switched between you and I?" Thranduil asked.
"Well," Lothril started and then paused as she thought it through. "I suppose it comes down to what is my final objective? Justice or rehabilitation? If it is justice, and you have asked his life be spared for the reasons I have given, then I would probably give him the maximum sentence for each offense, barring execution of course, and have him serve each sentence consecutively. If I was trying to rehabilitate him though… I suppose I would have to know him better before I would know what to do with him. For instance, if he is some spoiled little lordling who has never had to work a day in his life and all this comes from having the world handed to him, then I would probably make him apprentice at a hard job where he would actually have to work to earn his keep and apply himself. If he is some sort that thinks the world is out to get him, then I might put him in a position where he is unknown and has no reputation so he might learn that no, the world is not out to get him, rather he brings the trouble on his own head. See what I mean?"
"I do," Thranduil said thoughtfully. He stood and headed to the door and said, "Well, it is late and I shall leave you now. Tell Legolas I said goodnight."
"He is not here," Lothril said. "We parted company after supper."
"He is not? Tsk! Tsk! He is neglecting you. I will go have a word with that ellon. Goodnight," Thranduil said, and breezed out of the room before Lothril could utter a word of protest.
Thranduil went directly to Legolas' room, let himself into the antechamber and knocked loudly on his bedchamber door.
"Legolas! I want a word with you!" he called through the door using his authoritative commanding king voice but grinning. As soon as the door opened though he immediately put on his signature disappointed ada face complete with small disapproving frown.
"That is a look I have not seen in an age," Legolas said flatly upon seeing his father's face.
"That is because you have not so disappointed me in an age," Thranduil answered as he swept over towards the couch and sat down. "Sit."
Legolas did what he was told and began to seriously wonder what exactly his father would be disappointed about either seriously or in jest, and for as much as he was initially certain he was joking, he was starting to doubt…
"I have just been to see your betrothed and she informed me you both parted company after supper. Is there any particular reason for you abandoning her so early?" Thranduil asked with a raised brow.
"I left to see to renovations," Legolas answered.
"Legolas, you know I usually laud your dedication to projects and your willingness to work alongside others, but in this instance – leave it to the workers. Your drawings are specific and clear, you have told me you already put in your order for new linens and curtains and rugs – there is no reason for you to be here right now. Go be with your beloved," Thranduil said kindly and letting his face warm into a smile.
Legolas laughed and said, "Very well, Ada. I will do as you say. By the by, the weavers sent word to me that my new linens will take at least a week longer than they originally said. They will still be plenty early, but I am left wondering why. You would not happen to have a hand in that, would you?" Legolas raised a brow and shot his father a rather accusatory look.
"Me? Whatever gave you that idea?" Thranduil returned, looking perfectly innocent.
"The words, 'we have to repair the large loom' gave me that idea," Legolas replied.
"I knew I should have told them it was a surprise. Ah well, since you've guessed it, part of your wedding gift will be a new bed. You are welcome," Thranduil said with a smile that bordered on a smirk.
"Please tell me it is not going to be the size of yours," Legolas said with a wince.
"It is not. The footboard is shorter for one thing to allow more heat to reach you from the fireplace and it is not as tall as you are a little shorter than me," Thranduil answered casually.
That last part caught Legolas off guard and he nearly stared at his father. Well, he certainly couldn't accuse his father of not being thorough and detailed. "Ada, I thank you, but I do wish you had asked me first," Legolas said, managing to sound composed. "I am not sure Lothril is necessarily going to want something as ostentatious as your bed. She is considerably more modest in her tastes."
Thranduil gave a conceding nod but said, "I know my relationship with her only spans laer and iavas but in this I beg your indulgence and that you trust my judgement and for two reasons – first, I have been married for roughly six thousand years and making love for all but the last five hundred of them. Our bed was just as much your mother's design and idea as it was mine. Second, I know and readily acknowledge that you know Lothril far better than I do, but I think she is the sort that will stay well within whatever confines she is given. The more room you give her to play, the more she will surprise you to no end. That and I am making it myself and since you are leaving in only five years to move to Ithilien, I have decided to forgo the gold leaf because it scratches so easily, so it shall, in fact, not be as ostentatious as mine."
"I agree she is the sort that will stay well within bounds, but I do not see how her inclination to not rebel and a bed the size of a small pond relate," Legolas replied.
Thranduil gave a small shake to his head and said, "Legolas, do you remember when we moved north the first time and you were still young and you finally began to get a feel for the size of this forest and how overwhelmingly huge it felt to you?"
"I do remember that. It seemed like it went on forever," he answered, smiling a little at the memory.
"And do you remember the first time we left the wood and saw the River Running and you looked out across the water and the open plain and realized that Greenwood was but a part of the much wider world?" Thranduil asked.
Legolas nodded. "I will never forget Ada-da pulling out that map and showing me where we were and where we had been and where Naneth was from. For the first time I began to appreciate the scale of the world."
"Consider this me handing you both a map. Not that you cannot get creative outside of it, but it is a starting point with boundaries defined enough to not leave her floundering, but big enough to give you an idea of just how big the world can be," Thranduil replied.
"And how big is the world?"
"How long are the lives of the Eldar?" Thranduil stood up and kissed his still seated son on the top of his head and added, "Now go be with your betrothed and do a little preliminary exploration."
The next three days Thranduil spent his time pouring over Acharon's notebooks, consulting the laws relevant to his case, and thinking about what on earth he was going to do. This all would have been a lot easier if Lothril had just let him execute Acharon. Eventually though, it dawned on him he would be perfectly within the law to both punish Acharon for trying to strike Lothril and exact a bit of revenge on behalf of everyone he had been driving mad for the last nine hundred years.
At breakfast just over a week after the incident, Thranduil looked at Lothril and said, "I shall be sentencing Acharon today. As his would be victim, you have a right to be present and make a statement if you so choose. Of course, if you wish to stay away you are free to do so as well."
"When are you sentencing him?" Lothril asked.
"Immediately after breakfast. If you do wish to appear though, I will delay going down to the throne room until you have a chance to dress for court," Thranduil replied.
"I want to be there, and I'm done, so I will go change," Lothril said.
"I will have Legolas escort you down," Thranduil said, glancing at his son.
Lothril took a last sip of tea then scurried out of Thranduil's chambers and back to her room where Estelneth was awaiting her.
"Estelneth, I am going to be going to the throne room for Acharon's sentencing and-"
"I believe this would be suitable," Estelneth said, holding up one of the dresses Filegon had insisted on altering. It was a green and silver dress he turned from a bell sleeved dress into a dress with long draping sleeves and the neckline raised an inch.
"Then let's do that."
Quickly Lothril was dressed and then bedecked with her jewelry from Elrond indicating her house and position, and then one of the jewels for her hair that Legolas had given her in Minas Tirith. Adorned and braided like a right and proper elvish lady, she left her rooms and was escorted down to the throne room by Legolas who was looking every inch like an austere prince of the Woodland Realm. He was wearing a circlet and rings and his robes were particularly impressive and reminded Lothril of those old paintings of monarchs at their coronation where they are decked out in capes and furs and jewels and holding all sorts of symbolic objects. All he was missing was that weird ball with a cross on it and a scepter. What was that ball called again? Oh, it didn't matter. His robe was rich green threaded with gold and silver that glittered amazingly in the light and his tunic beneath it bright silver and the belt he wore was silver and gold studded with gems.
"My word, I think I am under dressed," Lothril said when she saw him.
"No, you are very suitably dressed," Legolas assured. "Estelneth did a very good job with you, especially for us not having a chance to make you a proper court outfit. But you do look every inch an elven lady."
"That's good, because I certainly don't feel like one," she replied.
Legolas abruptly stopped her and looked her straight in the eyes. "Híril Lothril Elrondiel Hîr od Imladris, you are an elven lady of renown who has earned the respect of kings and great lords of both elves and men by your words and deeds. You are twelve times the elf Acharon ever was and you have earned the right to be called a lady, a warrior, and my betrothed. The title is yours through your adar Elrond and if you had not already been bestowed it by him, you would have earned it and been given it. Heed the words of one born a prince – you are more deserving of your title than many who have been born to one. Now, Híril Lotrhil, hold your head high and bow to none but the king and take your rightful place beside me."
"Figuratively or literally at your side?" she asked.
"Both," he answered. "Simply keep your arm in mine and follow me."
She nodded, trying to will herself to feel like nobility and feeling more and more like a plain gal from Michigan who had no business anywhere near a crown. She had never felt so out of her depth in her life, but she held her head high anyway.
In a thing that was new, as they left the hallway where their rooms were, they were joined by two guards. Legolas seemed to expect it though and so Lothril didn't so much as blink either. They went directly to the throne room and were given a double door entrance. Lothril had been in there once before, obviously, but everything had been so overwhelming that she hadn't really paid attention to what the room look liked. However, this go round she was less overwhelmed and more observant. She still couldn't believe sometimes the utterly calming effect he could have on her. As they entered, he brought his other hand up and gave a quick reassuring to her hand on his arm.
She looked around. The throne room was huge and it seemed pretty clear to her that this must have been a large natural cavern before they started any excavating or carving of the hill; especially as it seemed that this room had doors on the ground level placed at uneven intervals and somewhat peculiar places, some needing a couple steps up or down to reach them. There were also open spaces higher up where she could see elves walking or standing as they went along and some of the open spaces gave the impression of being more like windows. The throne itself was elevated of course, and now that she was getting a half decent look at it as they approached at basically a wedding march pace, she wagered once upon a time the throne was on a hill or rise and he simply carved out the stairs. There were three shallow stairs that led up to the throne, each one divided from the other by a wide carved dais. At the top was a narrower one on which sat his carved throne, central and highest, and beside it two more carved chairs, less ostentatious, but still very impressive, one taller than the other.
Legolas led her straight up to the top where he stopped a step from the top and bowed slightly to the king and Lothril bowed also before the king returned a nod and Legolas led her to the furthest chair and he the one beside his father. Reflexively she put her arms on the arm rests and Legolas immediately reached over and took her hand firmly in his and she was extremely grateful because not in her wildest dreams did she think she would EVER sit up there, and of course, that's where all the attention was. Now that she was at the top, she could see the room was dotted in guards and that there were a variety of elves, all well dressed and looking very serious and grim and she was certain there were more elves now than when they started going up the stairs.
"Do I need to do anything?" Lothril asked with ósanwe.
"Nothing besides look serious, which you do," Legolas replied. "As the victim, you are allowed to make a statement if you so choose, but you may decline also."
Her only response was to squeeze his head back.
They could not have been sitting more than a few seconds when one of the doors opened and in strode an elf that Lothril was fairly certain was the one she had talked into letting her visit Acharon. Except instead of the very utilitarian outfit she had seen him in last time, he was wearing what looked like the dress version but was still carrying a sword, knives, what was decidedly old school handcuffs, a set of keys, and some sort of insignia. As soon as he appeared, another well dressed elf appeared holding a scroll and ascended to the second dais and stood before the bottom step, bowed low and then addressed the king saying, "King Thranduil, the elf Acharon, former lord stripped of title and standing has arrived at your request and awaits your judgement."
"Bring him in," Thranduil said, his voice completely neutral to the point of being nearly unsettling.
The guards at the door opened them and in was led Acharon between two guards with hands bound, wearing a very plain tunic and trousers and his hair brushed and clean looking and pulled back at the nape of the neck, but otherwise looking none the worse for being in a dungeon for the better part of a week. His head was hung low and Lothril wondered if it was out of shame or if this was like a protocol thing. He reached the bottom of the first stair and the guards halted and he immediately fell to his knees.
Thranduil all but glared down at Acharon and said in a commanding voice, "Acharon, disgraced son of former Lord Belchannar, disgraced former lord of the council of lords of the Woodland Realm and former head of the Duinhrim clan, come forward and receive your judgement."
With that he stood and the guards took him to the center of the first dais.
"The court has heard the circumstances which have led to your disgrace and it is now a matter of record. We have reviewed your conduct and the circumstances surrounding it. We have spoken to your wife, your servants, your secretary and those who have worked under you and taken all things into account. We have already submitted the results of our review into the record and to the council of lords, but we shall review it now for the court," Thranduil said, sounding absolutely cold. "All accounts were the same. You have a long and shameful history of treating your servants, staff, and worst of all, your wife poorly, but with no history of physical violence. By testimony of Lady Lothril, daughter of Elrond and betrothed of Prince Legolas, as well as testimony of two palace guards you attempted to strike Lady Lothril who is considered a member of the royal house and therefore by rights your life is forfeit. However, Lady Lothril has interceded on your behalf and requested your life be spared. We have considered this request and now we lay this judgement upon you. For the attempted assault of a member of the royal family you are hereby permanently barred from holding any office or position of consequence within the kingdom forever. You are permanently stripped of your title and all rights and privileges that are attached to it. In accordance with our laws and customs you are hereby sentenced to one hundred and twenty years in the dungeons where you shall not only reside but also sentenced to cleaning them. For your mistreatment of your servants you are sentenced to fifty years of unpaid servitude in the kingdom with necessities being provided as part of your prison sentence and your servitude eligible to begin after serving seventy-five years of your one hundred and twenty year sentence, pending your good behavior. Is there anything you wish to say before you begin your punishment? And the condemned may address the crown or the court."
Acharon raised his head slightly as he said, "I thank the crown for sparing my life and especially Lady Lothril for interceding on my behalf. My life was rightly forfeit and I readily acknowledge the great mercy I have been shown. May I make an inquiry to the crown about my sentence?"
"You may," King Thranduil replied.
"Shall I be allowed to have my family visit me?"
"If they wish to, they may under the established rules for prisoners which the Captain of the Prison will readily review with you upon request," Thranduil answered.
"Thank you, your majesty," he replied, dropping his head again and sounding almost lifeless. Somehow, Lothril doubted he would be having visitors any time soon.
"Lady Lothril," Thranduil said, turning his head slightly to address her, "Is there anything you would like to say to your attacker?"
She thought a moment before answering, "I have nothing more to say to him, your highness."
Acharon actually looked up a little at that reflexively, but then back down again.
With that came a series of pronouncements, one by what was the chief record keeper or scribe of the court confirming everything was done by the rules and recorded, then one by another lord saying that the council of lords acknowledges the removal of Acharon and that his clan is currently in the process of replacing him. Then King Thranduil dismissed the miserable Acharon and he was led out of the throne room.
As soon as he was gone, Thranduil tapped his carved staff on the stone and declared court dismissed for the day and thus stood and headed down the stairs followed immediately by Legolas and Lothril. They were the first to leave the throne room and Lothril certainly felt several sets of eyes following her as she descended. As they passed the elves who had stood and watched the proceedings, they all bowed as the king passed and held it until she had which she found… as long as she kept reminding herself they were bowing to Legolas and not her, it kept the feeling of being weirded out at bay. The moment they were out of the throne room, a pair of guards immediately fell in behind them, effectively blocking them off from the stream of elves coming out of the throne room and going various directions. Lothril was grateful. She couldn't imagine what she'd say if someone decided to come up and start talking to her or asking questions. She desperately wanted a few minutes to be alone and let her brain sort through the whole experience.
"Come up and join me," Thranduil said over his shoulder as he slowed down a little. Legolas and Lothril hurried up a few steps until Lothril was beside him and Legolas on the other side of her. "I am thinking of having tea in the game room and perhaps a game of pool. Would either of you care to join me?"
Legolas glanced at Lothril. "I think I shall," he said.
"I want to stop by my room first and change. I will join you though in a little bit," she replied.
"Take as long as you like," Thranduil said casually.
Legolas left her at her room's door and Lothril went inside to find the housekeeping staff abruptly stop and bow until she told them to not mind her presence. Estelneth was initially in the closet hanging up the latest batch of "fixed" dresses sent back from Filegon, but as soon as she heard Lothril, she came out to see what her mistress needed.
Lothril was about to say nothing, but changed her mind and asked her to find something more comfortable and suitable for a game of pool. Estelneth immediately pulled out a new dress from Filegon that was green and had narrow sleeves and split beneath the bust to reveal a beautiful silver layer underneath and gave the overall impression she was a star framed by green leaves. Well, she had been wondering how Filegon would incorporate both him and her in a dress… seemed a bit on the nose, but simultaneously she couldn't deny – she loved it. Estelneth helped her out of one dress and into the other and after Lothril divested herself of her star ring and necklace, but left the circlet in place because removing it would necessitate redoing her hair. Once ready she dismissed Estelneth from her oversized closet and told her she wanted to look through her dresses, which she did, but she figured that at least sounded more reasonable than, 'hey, mind leaving so I can sit alone in a closet?' She knew technically she could just tell her to leave and give no reason, but she was still of the opinion that just sounded rude. And she liked and trusted Estelneth a bit, but not enough to want to reveal her eccentricities to her just yet.
Regardless, being the excellent servant she was, Estelneth promptly left her lady alone to look over her dresses, closing the door behind her.
Lothril sunk down into the vanity chair and just stared blankly at the well laid out table before her. Somewhere in her head all the crazy swirl of thoughts from her first foray into court life flickered dimly past her consciousness. The intruding thought that came to the fore though as she stared at the vanity was that Estelneth had laid out the table. Estelneth had put everything in the drawers, arranged everything (very sensibly) in her closet, and that for all intents in purposes, her closet with her clothes in it belonged more to Estelneth than her. That bothered her a little. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized how much of her life the last week and a few days was rapidly being shaped by everybody else but her and that this wasn't horribly different in a lot of ways, from her life back in Michigan. Back there though, life was dictated by school, church, and family obligations, but at least she had been able to arrange her own stuff. She reckoned she could here too if she insisted on it, but it seemed pointless as Estelneth was usually there to dress her, and even if she wasn't, the closet was laid out so logically and neatly she wouldn't have a problem finding what she needed anyway. So why fix what isn't broken?
She slumped her head down onto her arms and stared vacantly at the woodgrain two inches in front of her nose. Why was she having such a hard time readjusting? Was she supposed to have a hard time readjusting? Maybe this was normal when somebody moved… to a completely different world… and started trying to figure out what everyday life was supposed to look like… as an elf… and a lady… and a princess… two out of three things she had absolutely no idea about. Meanwhile, somewhere on the floor above her was a king and a prince who were looking to have tea and play pool with her; one of them going out of his way to be nice to her and make her feel welcome and the other madly in love with her and burying her in compliments and kisses and reassuring her she was doing just fine. She didn't feel fine. She felt foreign and lost and –
"Milady, Prince Legolas is awaiting you in the antechamber."
She quickly got up and cut through her bedroom into the antechamber where Legolas was waiting for her in the same outfit as earlier but without the elaborate robe.
"I thought perhaps you would like an escort up to the game room as you have not been there but twice," Legolas said.
"Oh, yes. Thank you," she answered, sounding a little distracted.
He stared at her a moment. "You do not have to join us, you know," he said.
"I know, I want to. I need the distraction," she replied.
"Distraction? From what, meleth nin?" he asked as he gently led her over to the couch to sit next to him.
She frowned and gave an exasperated sigh as she leaned her head over onto his shoulder. "Oh, my own head. I think I am overthinking everything again."
"And what is the everything you are overthinking?" he asked as she slid an arm around her.
She heaved a sigh. "Oh, I have no idea what I'm doing here, melethron. Coming back here hasn't felt as uncomfortable as going back to Michigan did, but it feels far more foreign. Please understand, I'm not trying to insult anyone here, but I feel so lost. I have no idea what to do or what is going on and everything in my room is lovely and Estelneth is doing a great job, but none of it is mine. I didn't pick anything in it, nor arrange anything. I have nothing here and nothing feels homey. At least Rivendell was a house which helped with feeling homey right away, but – but –"
"This is not home yet," Legolas finished for her. "I understand, pen ro-mell nin (my dearest one). Tomorrow let us see about making your room yours and after we get that settled, we will start acquainting you with the workings of the kingdom. If you are going to live here, you need to understand it and if you are going to be comfortable here, you must have things how you like them."
"How did I end up with the most perfect dîr (male, any speaking race) ever?" Lothril asked with a little smile as she looked up at him.
"By being the most enchanting and captivating elleth I have met in my five thousand years," he answered before placing a kiss on her lips.
"And what if you meet a more enchanting and captivating elleth?" she teased.
"Impossible. Utterly impossible," he replied before giving her another kiss.
She could feel the depth of his sincerity and conviction. There was no doubt in his entire person – she was the most enchanting and captivating thing in the world to him, and he was utterly hers.
"Shall we go join your adar?" she asked, a smile lingering on her face.
"We shall," he smiled in return.
Author's note: So, I tried looking up how throne rooms would be set up in years of yore – would the queen be next to the king? Would the prince be there? I know at different times and places a prince could be found on a raised dais on a throne, but I don't know if that's in a separate throne room, a different castle, or what. No idea. And instead of driving myself crazy trying to figure it out, I decided the heck with it, Tolkien didn't go into great details about the Woodland Realm at all, so I'm going to do whatever I please! Then I tried figuring out if I thought in a courtroom situation like this whether the king would arrive first or last. In an American court room, the judge arrives last. However, if my discussions of people of various ethnicities and cultures has taught me anything, it's that what one culture considers respectful and honorable, the next one considers disrespectful and horrendous. Case and point – who gets served/eats first at dinner? If you ask women of Eastern European descent, they will tell you the wife serves the husband dinner then the children, then herself. If you survey a bunch of Americans, you'll likely hear you serve the children first. So I decided, as I haven't seen evidence one way or the other (though, if it exists, I'd love to know!) I could make the rules of etiquette be whatever the heck I wanted! There's going to be a lot of that with this part of the story.