THE FORGOTTEN

Ind Said

Private Thoughts

Author's note: The chapter in which – Legolas asks his dad a few personal questions and reads a diary. …So, I intentionally used some phrasing in this chapter that decidedly has different connotations in this modern world than it does here. I could have picked different phrasing, but I decided to indulge in my sense of humor and just run with it. Also, full confession – This was not quite the chapter I meant to or even wanted to write. However, this was the chapter I had time and mental space to write. And a HUGE MONSTROUS shout out to Quiero Escribir who collaborated with me hard core on this Thuringwen saga and actually wrote the journal entries. I've only edited them ever so slightly to make sure they fit in my head cannon a little better, but it's 99% Q.E. and I could NOT be more grateful!

It was about a week after Turuhalmë and one of the increasingly rare nights where Legolas was actually in his own bed. Well, increasingly rare until the last week. Now that Thuringwen was safely in the dungeon, he supposed he really ought to return to his own bedroom at least half the time, but then more often than not he had found himself asleep beside her and selfishly enjoying her warmth and her company in his sleep. That is, until the last week or so when she had asked to be alone at night and nearly every night. The night was well on when Legolas awoke feeling cold and lonesome and irritated at himself that he did. He was how old now and could not manage a night alone in his own bed in his own bedroom? There was nothing wrong with him preferring the company of Lothril, but really – over five thousand years of habit evaporated in a matter of weeks! How weak willed was he?

He got up and put on a warm robe then stoked up his fire a little before sinking down onto the couch in front of it. A dozen or so thoughts about a dozen or so things flitted through his mind as he watched the fire gently burn before him, but pervasive and growingly insistent amongst them was the nagging idea that perhaps he and Lothril were moving too quickly. Custom and tradition had no protocol about a betrothed couple sharing a bed and presumably because it simply did not happen. Or at least not enough to warrant a general opinion on the matter. And for whatever it was worth, they were in most other ways still roughly within the parameters of what was traditionally considered acceptable and expected behavior of betrothed couples given how long they had been betrothed. Perhaps slightly ahead, but that really did not matter. Even so, he was finding her growing confidence arousing and her subtle eagerness hard to resist. Who was he kidding – he found her hard to resist in general. Somehow she had managed to entrance and keep him without even trying, and now that she was exploring her own emotional and sexual wants and needs, it was making it exceedingly difficult to keep himself from doing the same. He knew in many ways she needed to because of her past and she needed to become comfortable with it lest their wedding night be a thing of fear and sorrow instead of joy and happiness. He did not. He was already quite comfortable with himself and he readily understood his wants and needs. The only thing that was troubling him was what was increasingly feeling like waning discipline and will power and a growing fear that if he lost either one, he would inadvertently push her to do more than she was ready for.

Maybe he should slow things down a little…

He got up and slid on a pair of slippers before heading out of his room. He needed to clear his head. He headed up to the drawing room and drew back the curtains to reveal a clear winter night. The stars were shining brilliantly and the moon was nowhere to be seen, but still he could see for miles across the frosty starlit forest and river. Without thinking, he began to sing quietly to himself and let himself get lost in the song until he gradually realized there was another voice quietly singing along with his.

"Ada," he said as he turned around to face his father who was standing but a few feet behind him. "I did not notice you were here."

"So I guessed," Thranduil replied, joining his son at the window. "It is a beautiful night."

Legolas nodded. "It is indeed."

"I have noticed you have not been up and about at this hour much as of late," he commented casually. "What brings you out tonight?"

"My room grew chill and I awoke and stirred up the fire, but then my thoughts turned to different things and I decided I wished to clear my head and so came up here," Legolas answered.

"Ah, then I take it you were alone in your bed," Thranduil said with the barest hint of a tease. When his son's face turned back towards the window and was expressionless he knew he had hit a nerve. "I see. Come, let us start a fire and sit down and talk."

"Ada-"

"Ion nin, you are clearly still troubled and when you are so troubled you never settle things until you have talked to someone. I am someone and I am here. Go fetch us something to drink from the cabinet while I start the fire and we will sit and talk."

Legolas raised a brow at his father but knew arguments to the contrary would be pointless…and that he was right… so he went over to the cabinet and did as he was told. A few minutes later a cheery little fire was springing to life and Thranduil had pulled the armchairs over so they were more central to the fireplace and angled them so they could talk easily while still getting the full heat from the flames.

"Ada, why did you and Nane decide to wait five years before you wed?" Legolas asked.

Thranduil stared into the fire for a moment before he answered, "It was more for practical considerations than anything else. For the certainty in our hearts we could have wed by Midsummer after we met and been very happy, but I knew before we even reached Lórien that your adar-adar had no intention of staying there long and I desired to bring a wife into a home, not a tent. We tarried there longer than we had originally planned, and largely on account of me, but your adar-adar and Gladhrion and one or two others went on to southern Greenwood to scout out things and establish relations there while I and the others lingered behind. When it became plain to the Silvan elves that Oropher could be the one to unite them and lead them, it became settled we would all move there and he was made their king and he returned to us as such. Imagine my shock at learning I was a prince."

Thranduil gave a chuckle, well remembering the wide eyed, open mouthed shock that made his father laugh and say, 'do not get too excited, son. We are not walking into a kingdom like Gondolin or Menegroth, and this shall do nothing to upset your plans with Lauríel, save maybe you shall wish to establish a house for yourself first now that we know where we shall be dwelling.'

"Anyway, that all happened within a few months of our betrothal and the rest of the time was spent with me building our house and aiding my adar in establishing a kingdom. As soon as the house was finished though, we wed," Thranduil added. "Why do you ask?"

"I was simply curious," Legolas said casually.

Thranduil gave him a very doubtful look. "Legolas, I have known you since the moment I helped conceive you. You have never asked a question like that without some reason driving it," Thranduil replied. "Now out with it and let me give you counsel in this matter."

Legolas sighed a little and shifted in his seat before taking a sip and then answering, "I worry at times I am moving things too fast with Lothril. She is still young and has been through many changes in a very short amount of time. Though I have sought to give her time to grow and adjust and make up her own mind, it seems like every time I turn I am saying and doing things sooner than I meant to and I fear I am rushing her. I had intended to wait until our quest was over to tell her my feelings, but then I thought she died and when she returned to me I spoke to her of them almost immediately. I had intended to delay our betrothal until after she returned, assuming she would be gone for more than a blink from here, and thus give her time to adjust better to our way of life and give her time to know herself better, but then everything worked out how it did and I took it as a sign that was how it should be, but still doubt lingers in my mind that perhaps I should have waited and perhaps she would have been better off in Rivendell right now. And things between us… I certainly had no intentions of moving as swiftly as we have, but when she made her desires known to me I could not resist."

Thranduil gave an understanding nod and said, "Your intentions have been noble, considerate, and circumspect, and your actions have been also. I do not think you have rushed anything and I sincerely doubt she feels that you have. You must remember she was human not two years ago. If there is anything I have learned about mortals, it is that they tend to be more swift and decisive when making these decisions than we are, on average. Just because most of the elves you know courted decades before becoming betrothed means nothing. Your mother and I did not court decades, we courted weeks before deciding to betroth. That our betrothal was five years was purely circumstantial. And besides, outside of you choosing to tell her your feelings in Lothlórien, the hurriedness of everything else could be laid at the feet of others, myself included. You said yourself she was the one who made her desires known to you, not the other way round. It would have been nearly cruel of you to deny her what she dearly wants and needs just for the sake of moving more slowly, and especially if you had any intention of giving yourself in whatever manner to her before your wedding feast anyway." He eyed his son and saw the slight frown on his lips. "Unless you have some other reason to be hesitant, I think you are worrying for naught. Is there another reason for you to be hesitant?"

Half a dozen thoughts flickered through his mind, most of them revolving around her past and the conversations they had had about it. He knew and believed her when she said he could not hurt her accidentally, but he could rush her and the thought of pressuring her into something she wasn't ready for scared him almost as much as the thought he might accidentally hurt her had. Still… she was the one who had proposed they move forward somewhat dramatically with their physical relationship, not him. He took a deep breath and asked, "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Ask it."

"How quickly were you and Nane serious physically?"

Thranduil took a drink while he thought back through his memories. "It has been a long time, but as I recall, it was after our betrothal and nearly immediately as we knew we would be parted for a while as I followed my father into Greenwood and built a house. She visited, of course, and towards the end her family came and moved near us, but we were fairly intimate and swiftly. Why do you think I told you what I did while we were in Lothlórien?"

"I supposed it was because you thought we were not affectionate enough or at all," Legolas answered candidly.

"Well, that was certainly part of it," Thranduil said with a smirk. "However part of it was me knowing you and having a strong suspicion about her, which has since been proven, and my way of letting you know as your father and king what I consider acceptable."

Legolas looked thoughtful but said nothing.

"Has she said or done anything to make you think you are moving too swiftly?" Thranduil asked.

"No, but that is just it – I am concerned that she might not and it seems every day my will for keeping things where they are now is waning," Legolas confessed.

Thranduil's brows knit together as he looked at his son. "I must say Legolas, you are confusing tonight. Why would she not say or do something? Also you are saying that your will to keep your relationship stagnant is waning as if that is a bad thing. Is there something more at play here? Why would keeping your relationship stagnant be desirable? And since when are you so riddled with self-doubt?"

Was there more at play here? Oh yes… much more… That he could not mention without betraying her trust that he held as sacred…

He took a drink and answered, "I am desirous to let her set the pace for our physical relationship and I do not want to push her to move faster than she wills. My fear though is that my desires will get ahead of hers and I will push her faster accordingly."

"I think you are in little danger of that and are perhaps being too noble for your own good," Thranduil replied. "Your desires are important also. If you are that concerned though, go speak with her in the morning and ask her if she feels that you are pushing her and trust her to tell you the truth. She is reserved, but I think if you ask her plainly she will answer you in kind. I certainly do not think she would lie to you if you ask directly even if she might hold her tongue otherwise."

"You are probably right. I will speak with her," Legolas said.

"Good. Now, what is the cause of my self-assured and confident son to suddenly doubt himself so?" Thranduil asked.

Legolas sighed. "To be perfectly honest, after these weeks of spending each night in the same bed as her, I awoke feeling cold and lonely and then upset with myself for feeling so after so short a time with her when I am five thousand years old. Should I not be able to handle a few nights by myself without feeling like a needy young elfling without her?"

"I was not young when I met your mother. The days, weeks, and months away from her while we were betrothed were the longest in my life until she sailed. These last five hundred years have felt longer than all my years combined. I am the last elf who is going to tell you that you are foolish, weak, or wrong for waking in the middle of the night feeling cold and lonely without your beloved beside you. When I used to wake at this hour, your naneth would often wake too and we would spend these hours together. Ever since she sailed I cannot stand to spend them in my bed without her."

"But you are married and have been for a very long time now," Legolas countered.

"And? You have found the one you love and wish to bind yourself to for all time. It is only natural you should want to be with her," his father answered.

"It is natural enough to wish to be with her, but even you must admit our sleeping together before we are wed is unusual," Legolas argued.

Thranduil smirked and took a drink. "But is it truly?"

Legolas' eyes snapped wide. "You are saying it is not?"

"I am saying I would not worry about it," he replied.

Legolas fell into thoughtful silence, drained his cup, and said, "I am tired, I shall go back to sleep now. Goodnight Ada, and thank you." He stood up and gave his father a kiss on his forehead and then headed back down to his room. He had half a mind to see if Lothril was awake and speak with her, but she did not always wake in the middle of the night and decided he would speak with her first thing in the morning.

He awoke early as usual and dressed in some haste and headed to her room and knocked on her bedchamber door.

"Come in, Legolas!" she called.

He entered to find her still in her pajamas and looking like she just crawled out of bed with slightly disheveled hair and her blankets folded back. She was so adorable first thing in the morning.

"Good morning, meleth nin," he greeted.

"Good morning, melethel! Now close your eyes and hold out your hands," she said.

He raised a brow, but stopped half way through the room, closed his eyes and held out his hands. A moment later he felt something placed in his hands that felt rather like a book.

"Okay, open them!" she said with a big grin.

He opened his eyes and saw the big smile on her face and then looked down at the book in his hands. There was nothing written on the cover. "A book."

She grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the couch in front of the fireplace. "Yes, but open it up and read it!" she said impatiently as she pushed him down.

He chuckled quietly and opened the book to the first page and read the inscription.

To my beloved Legolas Mellothon with all my love.

He turned the page and saw the first attempt at verse she had ever made for him.

"This is a collection of verses I have written for you," she blurted out, clearly too excited to wait for him to draw the conclusion himself. "I have included ones we have already shared in the first part, but the rest is more or less my half of the songs you have been writing for me. I thought about doing them to music, but for all my years of piano lessons, I am not much of a composer. However, I am not a half bad poet, even if I do say so myself."

"You are a very good poet," Legolas said, before leaning in and giving her a kiss. "And I am very excited to read your verses to me."

She beamed. "Well I shall happily leave you to read it while I go get dressed."

"And so I shall," Legolas said.

She threw her arms around him and gave him a hug and then a kiss and then scurried off into her closet to dress for the day.

He gingerly leafed through the pages until he found a verse that was not familiar to him.

Dance again with me beneath the autumn fire

Let us feel again the song's enchanting spell

Let us lose ourselves again in the desire

To move, to be, as one afire.

Hold me close again within your loving arms

And let me whisper the words we know so well

That we were made to know each other's charms

And move and be as one afire.

As he read the song it was obvious there was more to this than just a wish to repeat their dance at enderi. Indeed, the next song chronicled how she felt as they had danced together. The phrase, "moving me with your gentlest touch / a touch I have come to desire" leapt out at him. The first half might have been about dancing, the second half most certainly was not. At least not exclusively. He skipped around and read another two or three poems before Lothril emerged dressed for the day with her hair down and held back on the sides by a pair of jewels that looked like frosted snowflakes as they sometimes look on glass.

"So, what do you think? I was hoping to have this ready by Turuhalmë but then you started sleeping in my room and I could not work on it before bed and at night without you noticing. That is why I have been saying I wanted to sleep alone the last week or so. I wanted to finish this up and give it to you. And I do apologize if you have felt a little neglected. I did notice you looking like a sad puppy the last couple nights when I said I wished to be alone," she said all in a rush as she came and sat down beside him.

"Sad puppy? I did not look like a sad puppy!"

"You must certainly did and I felt awful. But what do you think? Was it worth it?" she pressed.

He gave a quiet chuckle and said, "It was quite worth it, but now each time you bid me sleep in my own bed, I shall be suspicious you are working on something for me."

"Fair enough," she replied with a grin. "And I am very glad you like it!"

"I must say, your timing of this gift was fortuitous. You have inadvertently answered a question I was going to pose to you this morning," he said.

"Oh? And what was your question?" she asked.

"It does not matter for you truly have answered it," he answered.

She gave him a look. "You know it is going to drive me crazy not knowing now that you have brought it up."

He nodded. "I do… so I shall tell you. I was going to ask if perhaps you thought I was pushing things too quickly between us. But between your explanation of why you have wanted to sleep alone lately and what little I have managed to read, I can see now my fears were unjustified."

"Quite. To be perfectly honest, I have been thinking you have felt a little hesitant," she replied.

"And to be perfectly honest in reply, I have been," he said quietly.

"Well don't be. If I really don't like something or am not ready, I will say something," she said.

"Will you? You do not make your opinions much known to me with these things," he retorted.

She shrugged and gave a small half frown. "I have let it be known if I did not feel ready for something or did not like something, but I will try to do better in telling you what I like or do not. I am still exploring all this a bit though, so I am not always confident if I actually like or dislike something or if it is just new and different. If you want though, I will try to voice even my indecision more."

"I would appreciate it," he replied.

She nodded. "Very well. And now that I have got this book finished, I will try to resume telling you how I feel about you too. I realize I have been quiet for a while, but I was writing and I did not want to spoil the surprise at all."

He grinned. "I can appreciate that, but I am also greatly looking forward to hearing you voice your feelings again."

"I would start now, but I think we are about to be late for breakfast," Lothril said.

"And so we are! I shall leave this here and fetch it after breakfast… or perhaps you will read some of it to me?"

"Gladly," she answered with a smile.

As they entered the royal breakfast nook Thranduil looked up from his tea and saw the grin on Legolas' face that had certainly been absent last night.

Clearly his son had gotten a favorable answer to his concerns.

After the customary round of good mornings, Thranduil said, "Good news! The diary of Thuringwen was recovered last night as she finally gave up its hiding place. I have not had a chance to look over it much, but I did find the last few entries and if the previous ones are anything like her last ones, I well imagine the trial will be very short."

"That damning?" Lothril asked.

"The last one was just shy of a full confession of her future plans. The ones leading up to it were borderline tirades about you being cunning and clever and how she needed to hone her skills as a soldier and strategist," Thranduil answered.

"Ha! If I was so cunning and clever, I would have avoided her traps altogether. As it was, the blows were only lessened because everyone around me is competent and vigilant," Lothril commented.

"May I read it before copies are made?" Legolas asked.

Thranduil shook his head. "I am afraid not. Galion brought it me this morning first thing and after I read the last entry I told him to rush it to the scribes for copies to be made. However, as they are only copying pertinent entries, I imagine it shall be returned to me in less than three days."

Legolas nodded. "Very well."

Three days later, Thranduil handed Legolas the diary of Thuringwen after lunch.

"Oooh! Shall we find a quiet corner to go read it?" Lothril asked enthusiastically.

Legolas stared at her a moment before saying, "You sound far too excited about reading the writings of your would be assassin."

"Aren't you curious what the crazy woman was thinking?" Lothril replied.

"Of course, but you sound nearly giddy."

"It is like I am in my own detective show and we have reached the big reveal about who did it and why!"

Legolas shook his head. "I ought to have known. Well, as this is a key piece of evidence for the trial, let us go to your library and read it there so we run no risk of losing it."

"Yes, lets! The rug I ordered for the library after enderi finally arrived this morning after breakfast with a mountain of apologies from the weaver who said she had orders for six rugs of all different sizes in front of mine and that she still had some more to do from the same customer after but she felt bad and did not want to make me wait even longer. I told her it was fine. Someone must be redoing their whole house though if they had six rugs before mine and several more after. Either way, I want you to see it and tell me what you think!" Lothril said.

Legolas got a funny look on his face, but she did not seem to notice. It just so happened someone was redoing what was essentially their whole house and that not a week ago he received the first lot of six rugs and that he was expecting another six. And he was a bit eager to see how her rug turned out and how it compared to what he had ordered prior so he could perhaps either cancel or modify his orders before the weaver got started on the second half on his order.

They went into her library and he almost sighed with relief but caught himself. He did smile though. "It is a very handsome rug and it looks very well in here. I do love what you have done with your rooms. They look much fairer now and are very reflective of you."

She bowed slightly with a grin. "Why thank you, Prince Legolas. You flatter me!"

"You are quite welcome, and I shall ever sing your praises."

"Now, shall we delve into the strange mind of Thuringwen?" Lothril asked as she hastily made her way over to the arm chairs and pulled them close together in front of the small little grate where she promptly threw in a couple logs and started a fire.

Legolas shook his head slightly but could not help but be amused at her. He sat down and so did she and leaned over the arm of her chair so she could see the diary as he rested it between his leg and the arm of the chair.

The entries of note had been bookmarked by the scribes it seemed, so that is where they started reading first.

- November 5th -

Her.

Everything was going fine, until she showed up. I mean, certainly, things could have been improved upon, but we were working on that, I was working on that, but then she –

Supposedly, she is related to Lord Elrond (Elrond! Of all people to have a "mystery" daughter! Well, it is positively scandalous and I still certainly do not believe it.). They bear no resemblance to one another, and I speak to their manner. The Lord of Imladris is noble, brave, dignified, and selfless - all things his "daughter" is not. She has wreaked havoc on the fine nobles of our own kingdom, falsely framing the actions and intentions my dear friend and kin Gormes in such ways that even her own husband and daughter have turned against her! But I tell you this in confidence as that fact is generally not yet known. The loathsome elleth has won herself admirers and fair-weathers in hordes. She has conned even the King into approving of her. Everything she wants, she gets. Everything she desires falls into place for her.

Worst of all, she has inexplicably ensorcelled our Prince: he has betrothed himself to her. That model of decorum, of dignity, of worth and leadership, has fallen under her spell. How he cannot see the poor fit of this match is beyond me. How does he not see her awkwardness, her ineptitude, her startling ability to make each and every situation about herself?

She is loathsome. She irritates me endlessly, so tonight, I finally did something about it.

Obviously, nobody else knows. I cannot allow anyone else to find out, of course, for even my ultimately harmless little needling of her would curry disfavor among her blind supporters.

And it truly was harmless, diary. I did nothing but accept the gift nature offered to me, and it will absolutely not cause her any (lasting) physical harm.

You see, I was at the feast. The one after this year's hunt. She was imbibing more, losing more control than is proper for the next Princess of - I cannot even finish writing that, it pains me so to think of it. Right from the start, her followers made it all about her. A well-deserved toast was made to the King, and to the Prince, who bravely fought his way back from Mandos' door. But then she was included in the toast, her healing abilities lauded beyond reasonable measure.

I will admit, she has a healing gift. That does not, however, make her one of the Valar.

The feast proceeds, and, despite its beginning, it was actually quite merry. Until she, as she always does, took things too far.

And nobody minded. To wit, most people cheered, for lack of any other response to her ludicrous actions that would not set the attitude of the King against them.

She kissed Legolas. In public. Now, I have nothing against public displays of affection, and, were it me in her place (a thought that you, diary, know I have indulged in often enough!), I, too, would not have been able to resist staking my claim in front of all. But the way she did it… well, it bordered on lewd. It was entirely inappropriate for someone of her station, which, again, is entirely granted to her only because she is betrothed to the Prince! Amidst the cheering, she was goaded into doing it once more, and I am certain that Legolas only submitted to her tactless affections to avoid embarrassing her in public, as she had done to him. He is an ellon of class and distinction.

I was so disheartened, so irritated, so dismayed at the state of things, that I quietly left the feast and wandered just into the surrounding forest. I found a place to sit, alone with my thoughts, and cast my gaze to the stars above, seeking comfort. As I sat, bereft and lost, I felt a tug on my skirts.

Looking down, I found a small squirrel tugging at the material of my skirt, which was fluttering temptingly in the night breeze. I shook my foot at it gently, telling it how I had nothing to give it, and resumed my stargazing. Within a moment or two, however, I felt the rustling of my skirts again. That same squirrel had returned and was now seeking some nutty treat under the hem of my feast dress. I shooed it off once more, a little less gently this time, and watched it scurry away.

I then cast my eyes heavenward and prayed. I prayed for a solution, I prayed for some way to express my true thoughts and feelings without recrimination for not being part of the crowd, I prayed for some way to open our Prince's eyes to her selfishness and falseness.

When my prayers were interrupted by a now-familiar tugging on my skirts, I must admit, I pursed my lips in irritation and went to remove the irritant. And that, diary, is when it struck me.

Remove the irritant.

Could I perhaps use one irritant to remove another? Could it be that this innocent forest rodent might be an answer to prayer? Could it be that a simple irritant, a mere squirrel, might reveal her true colors to our gallant Legolas?

I knew I had to try.

The details of the capture of the squirrel and the process of planting him in her chimney are… undignified and resulted in far more dirt and soot on my clothing than I had anticipated, so I shall spare both you and myself that exercise. I will only tell you that I was successful in my endeavor, and nobody saw me.

Now, I must only wait to hear the tales of her screeching, her unhinged behavior, and her (dare I hope, diary?) broken betrothal.

-⸙-

Legolas shifted uncomfortably as he read this. "I sincerely hope she did not mean she has often indulged in the thought of kissing me in public."

"Oh she has definitely indulged in the thought of kissing you in public," Lothril replied. "Trust me."

"I may need to bathe after reading this."

"I wish I could tell you it helps," Lothril replied.

They kept reading.

- November 13th -

Nothing.

I heard absolutely nothing for all my effort in catching and planting a random forest creature in her chimney. None of the servants reported any shrieks, screams, anger, or even any remnants of a mess! And she continued to keep company with the Prince, to live in the Royal House, to bewitch Legolas ever further into his misguided infatuation.

My efforts were in vain.

After giving it great thought, I realized that the failure lay not in the effort, but in the execution, you see, diary. A squirrel, which knew neither of us and had no interest whatsoever in participating in either of our plans for it was simply too broad, too general, too… difficult to aim. No, success shall follow more focused effort, much as a randomly released arrow makes far less of an impact than a skillfully aimed one.

My skill in this area is… well, hitherto untested. I will develop it, though, as quickly as needed, to accomplish my ends. I must open his eyes!

Thalachanar has worked in the Royal kitchens since before the palace was built; he has quite a solid reputation and knows the Royal Family's tastes intimately. He is also kind, and dedicated to the good of our King and his son. I considered taking Thalachanar into my confidence but decided against it. Should this, my second attempt, succeed or fail, either way, it is better than my dear brother knows nothing.

The operations of the Royal Kitchens are impressive and, when necessary, run with military precision. Precision to that degree will not be required again until the next feast, but the running of the kitchen is hardly lackadaisical in the slowest, most informal of times. Great planning and tremendous organization are put into not only the food preparation, but the menu selection, the timing of the courses, and, most importantly for me, the presentation. Each member of the Royal Household has a distinctive location whereupon the plates for each course sit. In the event that a dish must be prepared ahead of time and served cold, the portions, or the dinnerware, depending, is clearly identified as to who the ultimate recipient shall be. This allows for, among other things, the attentive tailoring of each meal.

Tonight, hers will contain undercooked kidney beans. They cannot do any lasting harm, of course. Only enough to make her uncomfortable.

It was truly a simple matter. Everyone in the kitchens knows Thalachanar, and a quick visit from his sister, who was (as happens with not-quite regularity but not-quite rarity, either) dutifully delivering a late-afternoon basket of herbs from our mother's own garden, was unremarkable.

Never let it be said, diary, that I sabotaged my own brother. He can honestly claim he never left her food alone with anyone else for even a moment.

I didn't need him to. All I needed him to do was positively identify which place was hers and then turn his back for long enough for me to add the undercooked beans to the right dish. The deed was done before one could count to three, and Thalachanar had his back turned for a count of five and one-half.

Now, how shall she behave when the kitchens have been so careless as to have given her – and only her – food poisoning? Surely that will provoke anger, blame, and accusations toward a host of servants who have faithfully served both King Thranduil and Prince Legolas far longer than she has even known either of them! She will be outraged, offended, insulted. She will demand recompense, act above her station, and then…

Then he will see her for the spoiled, rotten, useless, selfish thing she is.

-⸙-

"HA! Add it to the list, sister. Pizza with mushrooms, no-bake cookies, undercooked kidney beans… If I had spent my life getting bent out of shape every time I got sick after eating something, I would have been in a rage most of my life!" Lothril said with a laugh.

"How many times have you been sick like that in your life?" Legolas asked.

"Oh goodness, I hardly kept track," she answered dismissively. "But let's keep reading! This is fascinating!"

-November 23rd-

The only explanation I can posit is that she is a far craftier opponent than I expected, and I believed I had given her credit for her cunning, with the way she has ensnared our Prince's affection. I was, again, mistaken. I hear there was nothing but concern, nothing but care, nothing but doting upon her during the course of her infirmity.

At least my brother remained correctly blameless.

I do not relish the idea of increasing the focus, the intensity, of my efforts. But diary, I do not know what else I can do! I am most reluctant to stray far from the behavior, the standard propriety, typically embraced and embodied by a lady, but someone must stand up! I feel as though I may be the last truly aware elleth in the kingdom.

Everyone else has fallen under her spell. I must fight harder.

I must fight yet more directly.

She must be stopped.

Not long ago, I watched as she sparred our great King Thranduil. I observed, as she fought strangely well (is nothing about her normal?!), that she favored a specific style of sword. Now, as it happens, when the fighting grows intense, once in a while, the wooden swords used in sparring may break. A great blow is parried, and the force of the contact can break either or both of the weapons.

Either or both of the strong, well-fashioned weapons.

Should an already weakened sword be used, it would, possibly, shatter at an unexpected point in the conflict, a point where the party wielding it might be wounded. Not severely, perhaps.

Or perhaps severely. I must do what needs to be done to save our kingdom.

To save our Prince.

I have watched the sparring sessions for the past few days. During a training battle today between Ellon 1 and Ellon 2, Ell on 2 struck at Ellon 1 with such force that Ellon 2's sword broke. It was an uneven break, splintering at the joint where the blade meets the hilt, in a jagged, upward sloping pattern.

Diary, Ellon 2 uses the same style of sword as she does. It is a sign from the Valar.

When the fighting was over for the morning, I made sure to walk by the waste bin on my way out. A smooth, confident, small movement and Ellon 2's sword was in my basket (along with a variety of sticks and foliage I was collecting to craft a garden decoration, or so I told Raedadis when she asked; I must now remember to craft a garden decoration).

I have spent the evening carefully piecing together the pieces of Ellon 2's sword. Now to return it to the weapons' store just before her next session.

She should be careful. Sparring can be dangerous.

If I'm lucky.

-⸙-

Lothril asked for , the diary from Legolas and quickly perused the entries between the bookmarked entries. "Look at this," Lothril said to Legolas, tilting the diary back towards him. "Between the marked entries she does not say anything directly, but hardly an entry goes by where she doesn't hint to her 'mission'."

"What do you make of it?" Legolas asked.

"Well," Lothril said slowly, "when I mentioned things only vaguely in my own journals I usually did so out of fear someone else might read it and I did not want to let on exactly how I felt or what was going on. But then, you saw I also blacked out a lot of things too if I thought they got to close to anything I did not want known. I would write them down to get them out, so to speak, but then cover them up again. If I had to take a guess, this was consuming her, but as much as she was not worried about her parents reading her diary, she also did not want anything too detailed written out… and I am guessing for this very reason."

"Do you suppose she would have surrendered herself if she was successful?" Legolas asked.

Lothril shook her head. "I do not know if she would have surrendered herself, but if that first entry is any indication, she wanted to make a play for your heart, and if she got it, she might have half confessed or at least pointed out how relieved she was and how bad an idea I was. And clearly she thinks her cause was just, so if she did show it to you, she would have expected your approval, I think. But of course this is speculation."

"Ugh! This whole business is appalling and borderline sickening," Legolas said.

"Kinda makes me want to slap her into next week. I mean, yes, she tried to basically maim and kill me, but at the same time, she's deluded enough to think this is some sort of Valar ordained mission. Clearly she is not thinking straight," Lothril said.

"Not at all," Legolas agreed. "But either way, I think her execution is almost a certainty."

Lothril nodded. She still wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of someone being executed for trying to kill someone (and failing), but at the same time, she almost killed the prince of the realm twice and as a life sentence for an elf seemed… impractical, to say the least, and that this was a monarchy…

They kept reading and the entries grew slightly more direct and definitely more frustrated in tone as she kept saying things like, "I must hone my skills", "I must learn to think like a soldier", and other such things that indicated she was decidedly trying to become more deadly. Then they came to the last entry.

- December 10th -

I have heard nothing and her riding lesson was day before yesterday and the weather was fine. If she were injured as she ought to have been, the news should be everywhere so I can only assume she dodged the blow, though I am sure I do not know how. I plan on visiting Rhovaneth and Raedadis today as the roads are cleared enough now for our sledge, so perhaps I shall hear some news there.

Regardless, I am tired of her dodging my attacks. She. Needs. To. Go. I have tried to get her to reveal herself, I have tried to scare her off, I tried to be subtle, I have tried to be forcible. Now I will be direct. Thankfully, our kingdom being where it is and how it is, it is not unusual for even the most proper of our ladies to be handy with a bow. I had not touched mine in a few centuries, but the last two weeks I have taken it up again and been practicing. I am not as good an archer as our fair prince, but I believe I am good enough for the task at hand. It shall be tricky getting into position without being seen now that there is snow upon the ground, but perhaps I shall be fortunate and a storm come up while I am near the palace that will hide my footprints. Regardless, I shall bring my bow and quiver and see about getting in some practice at the palace archery range. I shall convince my friends to come with me and practice so it does not seem so suspicious.

-⸙-

"Why she did not just plead guilty out of hand is beyond me," Legolas said angrily, closing the diary.

"No idea, but I imagine there is some sort of angle she thinks she can play to maybe get off or at least get a lighter sentence. But she has to know that Acharon was almost killed just for trying to strike me in the heat of the moment. This is all clearly as pre-meditated as it gets!" Lothril answered.

Legolas shook his head. "She will find no mercy from the crown, I can tell you that. Her only hope lies with the court and the lords and somehow, I doubt there is much there for her."