Chapter 6: What you were forced to do

Legolas and Thranduil sat in front of the cottage where Maethorness had housed the king and his party while they stopped in her village. They were watching the sun rise. Whenever he and Thranduil hunted together, Legolas always joined in his father's morning ritual, viewing the sunrise filtered through green leaves. Here, on the forest border, Legolas saw, for the first time, Arien climbing over the very edge of Arda.

"It has been a very long time since I have seen the sunrise in that way," Thranduil said, echoing Legolas's thoughts.

"How long?" Legolas could not resist asking.

Thranduil paused, thinking. Then he frowned. "Since we returned from the war in Mordor, I suppose."

Legolas stifled a sigh. His father's mood had been very black during the entire journey home and throughout their conversation this morning. As they watched the sunrise, Thranduil had questioned Legolas on all that happened while he was in Fuilin's company. Legolas was relieved that his father had avoided the topic of the man's company, and he was surprised that he did not ask for more details about their capture, but it suited Legolas perfectly well that he did not, because there were aspects of that part of this incident that he wanted to discuss with Tulus before being interrogated by the king.

The reason for Thranduil's interest in Fuilin, specifically, became obvious when Celonhael emerged from the cottage. At his appearance, Thranduil stood. Conuion also arose from where he was leaning against a tree. "Ready?" Thranduil asked Celonhael.

Celonhael nodded and together they stepped off the cottage's small porch and onto the grass. Conuion followed them without a word, but at a much closer distance than he normally did. Legolas watched them, unable to imagine what business his father might have this early in the morning in Maethorness's village. His confusion cleared when they turned towards the village's root cellar, where Lanthir stood, guarding Fuilin and Mauril's makeshift prison.

"Are you going to speak to Fuilin?" Legolas called, finally standing himself.

"Yes," Thranduil replied without turning or even slowing his pace.

Legolas jogged after them. "I want to hear this," he said, drawing up next to his father.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and adopted his 'No' expression, preparing to speak.

Legolas forestalled him. "I have the right to know who he is, why he did this and anything else you hope to find out. I am clearly now a target in whatever revenge Manadhien intends to extract from you," he argued.

"Very well," Thranduil conceded as they approached Lanthir. The guard reached for the keys to the cellar door that Maethorness had entrusted to him. "Feel free to leave if this...conversation grows too difficult, but if you stay, remain silent."

Legolas's eyebrows rose and he looked from his father to his uncle. Celonhael was uncharacteristically grim as Lanthir pulled open the door.

The root cellar was large. And dark. It was completely unlit, save by the sunlight that entered through the open door, and much of that was blocked as they walked, single file, Conuion first, down a dozen earthen stairs into a small room. Four locked doors lined its walls, two on the back wall and one on each side. Fuilin and Mauril leaned against one of the doors on the back wall. They were squinting and trying to push themselves up to stand. Hands bound behind them, it was a challenging task and one that was destined to fail. Fuilin was just managing to rise from his knees when Conuion shoved him back down roughly. Thranduil stood over him.

"Have they been given anything to eat?" Thranduil asked, directing himself to Lanthir, who stood, sword drawn, at the top of the stairs.

"Last night, but not yet this morning, my lord," he answered.

"Tell whoever brings them breakfast to come back later. I do not want this conversation disturbed. And either leave the door open or send for someone to bring a lamp."

Yes, my lord," Lanthir responded. He did not move. He remained in the open doorway of the cellar, facing the prisoners and the king.

Thranduil did not seem to notice. He was entirely focused on Fuilin.

Fuilin returned his gaze with an unconcerned, almost dismissive, one of his own. "If you think to cow me with a night of darkness, you are a fool," he said. "I have suffered the depths of Angband. Your little cellar impresses me not at all."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "You are confusing your own motivations with mine, Fuilin. I had no intention of harming you when I imprisoned you here. I merely wanted to ensure that you cannot escape." He paused to draw Fuilin's attention. When he continued, his voice was dangerously low. "I want some answers from you before I send you to Mandos to answer for your crimes."

Legolas had to stop himself from openly reacting to his father's last statement. He simply turned to him as one might look at any person who is speaking, but silently he searched his father's expression for some indication of how serious he was. Surely he did not intend to execute Fuilin. It was one thing to react violently when provoked. It was an entirely different thing to give thought to such an act and then carry it out.

Fuilin smiled at him. "How may I help you, lord?" he asked with exaggerated politeness.

Legolas snorted quietly. Perhaps Thranduil expected to be provoked to violence during this interview and that is why he seemed so certain that Fuilin would soon be judged by Namo. Legolas did not doubt that if he addressed his father in such a smug manner, it might elicit the sort of response that Thranduil did not normally employ.

"You can start by telling me who else was involved in this latest attempt against my family," Thranduil replied, ignoring Fuilin's attitude.

"As always, I act upon the orders of my mistress." Fuilin answered.

"We will discuss Manadhien at length in a moment. Who else aided you? How did you learn about the drill Legolas and Anastor were participating in? Who were the elves that were with Demil when he captured Legolas and Anastor and with you when you sold them to men?"

Those elves were the topic that had concerned Thranduil the most during their morning conversation. The idea that Manadhien had more servants, besides Fuilin and his brothers -- servants that were willing to kill! That was alarming news. Legolas could provide little information about them, besides a basic description and the one name he had heard Demil use.

Fuilin said nothing in response to those questions.

Thranduil's hands balled into fists and he took a step closer to Fuilin, standing directly over him. He lifted a foot and planted it on Fuilin's chest, pinning him down and back against the door behind him. Then he leaned over, shifting his weight to that foot and speaking into Fuilin's face. "I will not play with you, Fuilin. I am finishing this. Now. I want to know who aided you. I know one of them is named Lagril. What is the other elf's name? How long have they served Manadhien? And where can I find them?"

"Pelin is the other name," Fuilin said. "He and Lagril began their service to our lady before my brothers and I began ours. And where they are now, I do not know." By the time he finished speaking, his voice broke as he ran out of air.

Thranduil did not release him. Instead, he studied him with obvious skepticism.

"Either you want answers or you do not," Fuilin choked out, looking irritated. "But if I give them and you do not believe them, what is the point of this?"

"How long have you served Manadhien?" Thranduil asked, still not moving.

"Since her lord father and I escaped from Angband together," he answered, reduced to whispering.

"What was her father's name?"

"Ulcamarto," Fuilin managed.

Thranduil lifted his foot from Fuilin's chest and watched him as he took a quiet, but deep breath.

Fuilin turned to Legolas. "And all I did was allow Demil to slap you and Anastor a few times. At least I did not try to crush the breath from you."

Legolas only realized how large his eyes had become when he narrowed them to glare at Fuilin. "Of course there was that small matter of you selling us to a man," Legolas answered back, disregarding Thranduil's order to remain silent. "Which you obviously had no right to do. The king, on the other hand, has every right to question prisoners who commit crimes in his realm."

Thranduil glanced at Legolas and then turned to Celonhael. "Marto, I know. What does 'ulca' mean?"

Celonhael shook his head. "I do not know, my lord. I had no interest in that language."

"It means evil," Legolas said, still glaring at Fuilin.

Thranduil spun around to look at him. "How would you know that?" he asked with obvious shock.

"I can read Quenya," Legolas answered, tearing his gaze from Fuilin to meet his father's scowl.

"Rodonon and I will be having a conversation when we return to the stronghold," Thranduil muttered. Then he turned back to Fuilin. "I am supposed to believe that a father named his son Ulcamarto? Even the Noldor are not that cruel."

Fuilin shrugged. "It is the name my lord gave me when we met in Angband and the name I addressed him by until his death."

"And what were your lord's grievances against me?" Thranduil asked. "What would drive his daughter to wish to kill every member of my household?"

Fuilin shook his head, affecting an aggrieved expression. "Do you not see that the offenses you have committed are all the worse because you cannot even remember them? All the more hurtful because what you did so lightly was so devastating to another?" He asked that question with all apparent sincerity.

"What I see," Thranduil answered, voice taut with anger, "is that you, your brothers and your mistress have been driven insane by whatever perceived offenses that I--or my adar, or both of us--committed. Or, more likely, if you truly were held in Angband, perhaps that experience drove you insane. But only insanity can explain your actions against me. You have abducted my wife and my son. You killed my wife's parents. No sane elf could conceive of such deeds, much less act upon them. Who else, besides this Lagril and Pelin aided you? I assume Dannenion did not, given that you sought to injure him, along with me. Did Dolwon aid you? Glilavan? Tulus?"

Legolas drew a sharp breath when his father named Tulus.

"Yes," Fuilin replied, easily. "All of them but Glilavan, at any rate. He is not involved unless he is helping his adar in someway that Tulus has not mentioned to us."

"You are lying," Legolas interrupted him. He stepped forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with Thranduil, leaning over Fuilin.

Thranduil made a slashing gesture with his hand, demanding silence. He remained focused on Fuilin.

Fuilin continued without pause. "Dannenion had been helping us right along, up until Demil was exiled. Then the fool broke with us and forced us to show him the error of his ways."

"How?" Thranduil pressed. "How have Dannenion, Dolwon, and Tulus been aiding you?"

"By sending us information on troop deployments, Legolas's travels, Lindomiel's travels. Anything we ask for, really. Between Dannenion, Dolwon and Tulus, they have access to nearly every part of the stronghold and all the information we could want."

"Tulus does, at any rate," Thranduil said under his breath, but standing over Fuilin, there was no possibility he would go unheard.

Fuilin nodded. "True enough. Since you exiled Demil, you also did a fair job of securing information. It has been much more difficult for us to obtain what we needed. Especially since Dannenion stopped cooperating. But we managed, as you can see. We can thank Tulus for that."

"You are lying," Legolas repeated. "Tulus would not betray me. If he intended to, why would he fight Lagril and Pelin? Why would he come after me?"

"Why would he be alive if he was not one of our allies? We killed the Sixth Years. Why not kill Tulus if he was not useful to us?"

"If he is useful to you, why betray him now?" Legolas countered.

"I am not going to my death alone," Fuilin answered. "If I die because Tulus made a mistake and failed to retrieve you from Balchthor, I will not be the only one to pay for his failure."

"You sent Demil to ensure that Dannenion did not retrieve us," Legolas said.

"And to ensure that Tulus did," Fuilin concluded.

Legolas drew a breath to respond, but remained silent when Thranduil grasped his forearm tightly, pulling him back a step.

"Why would you want Tulus to take Legolas back from the men?" Thranduil asked.

"There are many groups of men to get a sack of gold from," Fuilin answered. "Why not get one from as many as I can until they catch on?"

Thranduil remained silent, considering Fuilin.

"My lord, these are lies," Legolas whispered. "I would stake my life on it."

"You already have," Thranduil answered without looking at him. "Prove it," he said to Fuilin. "Show me evidence that Tulus gave you reports on Legolas's movements. Or tell me where I can find evidence."

"Gladly," Fuilin agreed quickly. "There is a strongbox, made of metal, in the hearth of the main building in the mannish ruins. You will find a stone loose in the hearth and the box hidden behind it. Inside that box are letters that Tulus, Dannenion and Dolwon sent us. I will take you to find them."

"And luring us back to those ruins could not possibly be a trap planned in advance in case you were captured," Celonhael said softly.

"A trap there is no possibility I will fall into," Thranduil replied. "One more question Fuilin: where is your mistress?"

Fuilin drew himself up and his mocking expression evaporated, replaced by one of cold determination. "That is something that you will never learn from me. Or my brother. Even if you cut us apart piece by piece."

Thranduil looked down upon him for a long moment, resting his right hand on the handle of the knife at his waist. "Tempting," he finally said softly. "But that is the one statement that you have made that I believe to be a wholly honest one." He turned and strode back up the stairs without another word.

Fuilin's laughter echoed in the root cellar.

Legolas remained standing over him, now sorely tempted to silence Fuilin himself with a solid smack.

"My lord?" Conuion said softly.

Legolas forced himself to turn away and follow his father and uncle, taking the stairs by twos to catch up to them.

*~*~*

Thranduil walked straight from the root cellar to the cottage and opened its door forcefully enough to make it rebound against the wall.

"Where is Dannenion?" he asked as soon as he scanned the room and saw only his own guards. The cot Dannenion had slept in was empty.

"With the healer, my lord," Heledir answered cautiously. "She said she intended to close his injuries this morning. Tulus persuaded Anastor to go with his father, and went himself, under the pretense of having the healer evaluate their wounds as well."

"Clear this room," Thranduil ordered. "Conuion, you may stay. Legolas, you may also, if you can manage to control yourself this time." He stalked over to the small dining table in the cottage and sat in one of its chairs as the guards hurried through the open door.

"My lord, Fuilin is lying," Legolas said, sitting next to his father without hesitation and ignoring his admonition.

"His version of the events obviously does not make sense," Celonhael agreed, seating himself on Thranduil's opposite side.

"I would also be very surprised if Tulus had betrayed Legolas," Conuion added. "Though Fuilin seemed very convinced that we would find proof in those ruins."

Celonhael shook his head. "That is a trap. Again, one so obvious that no one would fall into it."

"Which makes one wonder if it is a trap," Thranduil interjected. "Their plans are normally fairly sophisticated. Luring us into an obvious trap does not fit their typical schemes. I think we might find something in those ruins. How reliable it might be can only be judged after seeing it."

"I will send two guards to search for this box," Conuion said. "I will warn them, unnecessarily, to be cautious. We will see if they find anything."

"They will find nothing to incriminate Tulus," Legolas said. "Glilavan, on the other hand..." he left that statement hanging.

Thranduil sighed and finally looked at him. "Legolas, you are determined to defend Tulus and that is clouding your perception of what we heard. It is perfectly obvious that Fuilin excluded Glilavan from his accusations because he is the one member of their conspiracy that Fuilin hopes to be able to salvage. And I doubt that we will find a single person in this forest that has ever heard the names Lagril or Pelin--or, if we do, the people with those names will not have the same faces you remember seeing with Demil. Fuilin is as loyal to his mistress's plots as you are to your guard. He would not betray anyone that is still useful to her. He gave up Tulus, Dannenion and Dolwon, so clearly they no longer are associated with her. But the question remains, for how long have they refused to serve her? I can easily believe that Dannenion and Dolwon sent her the information Fuilin named until they learned she murdered your grandparents. When that happened, Dannenion's attitude towards me changed noticably. But Tulus? Well, I will withhold my judgment of him until I see the contents of this box, if it exists...."

"If it does, and if something incriminating Tulus is found in it, there has to be another explanation for how it got there," Legolas said.

"Then Tulus can explain it to me and I will listen to him," Thranduil replied. "But you will learn to control yourself. I am not discussing Tulus, Dannenion or Dolwon at this moment. Do not interrupt the conversation that I intend to have another time or I will ask you to leave. Understood?"

Legolas looked down, biting his lip. "Yes, my lord," he replied promptly.

"One more warning before we move on: you will not breath a word of Fuilin's accusations to Tulus before I have a chance to speak to him. Is that also clear?"

"Yes, my lord," Legolas replied, equally promptly, though with more regret.

Thranduil nodded.

"What about guarding Legolas in the meantime, my lord?" Conuion asked.

"Assign Belloth to Legolas and tell Tulus the change is due to the fact that his injuries prevent him from adequately fulfilling his duty," Thranduil answered, silencing Legolas's protests with a glare. "But before you speak to Belloth, and the guards that you will send after that box, I would value your opinion on the topic I want to discuss. So please stay a moment longer."

"As you wish, my lord," Conuion responded, eyebrows rising slightly.

Thranduil leaned against the back of his chair. "We will set Dannenion, Dolwon, Tulus and Glilavan aside for the moment," he began quietly. "But there is no doubt that Fuilin is guilty of abducting Legolas and Anastor, of causing them bodily harm and of selling them to men, something that could only be expected to result in their eventual deaths. And, since this is not the first time Fuilin tried something like this, it is clear that he and Mauril, who Dannenion, Dolwon and Tulus all confirm participated in the plot against the queen, are a persistent threat to this realm and to our family. I judge them guilty of treason and when we return to the stronghold, I will announce that in a public trial. The question is: what will I do with them?"

Celonhael dropped his gaze to his lap in response to that question.

"You implied to Fuilin that it is a foregone conclusion that you will execute them," Legolas said, his throat constricting around the words.

Thranduil nodded. "I confess that is an option that I am considering," he whispered.

Legolas released a relieved breath to learn that his father had not already made that choice. And that he appeared so very uncomfortable considering it. Killing Fuilin was not a decision he felt he could support, now more than ever, since he had a much clearer understanding of such an act.

"My lord, it is unthinkable," Celonhael said firmly, still looking down. "There has to be another way to deal with them."

"I tried exiling Demil. I had him escorted past the edges of the Wilds. We see what that accomplished," Thranduil replied.

Legolas reluctantly nodded. "Fuilin said they spent years looking for him. Demil said they chose to give Anastor and I to men rather than to kill us outright in the interest exacting a revenge similar to the crime committed against them, as they see your decision."

Thranduil snorted. "They are utterly twisted in evil. Irredeemable."

"Imprison them, my lord," Celonhael suggested. "Lock them in a storeroom in the stronghold and leave them there."

"That is also a possibility that I am considering," Thranduil answered.

Celonhael leaned towards him. "Far better to hold them in a cell than to have their blood on your hands, my lord."

"Is it, Celonhael? If being held in Angband is what twisted their hearts so, would repeating such cruelty be better than death? Personally, I think I would prefer a quick death to a lingering one, waiting to fade while locked away from the sun and the free air."

"What they have done is an offense against the laws of the Eldar and the Valar. Killing them yourself would be the same offense," Celonhael said. "And you know better. Your own kin were slain. Before your eyes."

"Do you think that I do not remember that, uncle?" Thranduil snapped at him. "Now it is my duty to ensure that these elves, who have apparently slain my kin before, have no further opportunity to do so again."

"May I speak, my lord," Conuion asked. He had moved to the very edge of his chair as Celonhael and Thranduil argued.

"That is why I invited you to stay," Thranduil replied.

"Imprisoning them will be more difficult than it seems," Conuion said. "Someone will have to bring them their food and their bath. Someone will have to launder and repair their clothes and shoes. Someone will have to remove their waste. They will have to be exercised, unless you intend to kill them slowly. Every time we open their cell doors to accommodate these tasks, the guard and servant entering their cell will be at risk. Every time we open their cells, we risk the family in the stronghold, should they escape. I am not comfortable in the slightest with the idea of imprisoning them in the stronghold. If we must imprison them, I would prefer a remote location, with a separate set of guards dedicated to that duty."  

Thranduil nodded. "I have though about those issues. Another question, if I choose to imprison them, is: for how long will I imprison them? A yen? Two? Ten? Until they fade? Until my entire family and I leave these shores? I have no intention of ever doing that. So, shall I imprison them forever? Even Morgoth had the hope of suing for pardon when he was imprisoned by the Valar. Shall I give Fuilin and Mauril the same hope and pray for a better outcome than the Valar received from Morgoth? I do not see how I can imprison them. It seems an impossible endeavor to hold an elf captive forever."

"Would it be more possible for you plunge your sword into their hearts or use it to remove their heads?" Celonhael asked. Thranduil said nothing, so he pressed the point. "Can you stand in the Great Hall, order them brought to you, bound, and execute them as your people and your family--your sons and wife--look on? I pray that you are not capable of such a deed. And if you are, I will forbid my son from watching it."

Thranduil closed his eyes. "I may have to be capable of it, whether I like it or not, if you--or someone--cannot give me an alternative. I am this realm's king, Celonhael. I am not exacting revenge for myself. I am administering justice for the protection of the people that I made an oath to serve. Fuilin's mistress is known to have plotted with orcs. She organized them to fight against the citizens of this realm--my family, certainly, but also our guards and warriors. I cannot allow Fuilin and Mauril to continue serving such a mistress--such evil--and endanger the people I am responsible to protect."

Celonhael loosed a long sigh. "I do not believe the people would want to be served in this manner, my lord," he said. "These are woodelves. They did not bear witness, as we did, to the evils in Menegroth and Sirion. They have never seen an elf kill an elf. Ever. Many of them do not even know the stories of such things happening in Beleriand, so they have never heard of an elf killing an elf. Do you want to be the person that introduces this sort of evil to them?"

"But I did not introduce this evil to this forest, Celonhael. Marti did it, when she killed Amglaur and Limmiel. How do you think the citizens of this realm will react when that becomes public knowledge? How do you think they will react upon hearing that Fuilin intended to kill Legolas? Legolas is very well loved amongst the people who know him around the stronghold. I think the people will expect a strong punishment. They are, as you said, woodelves."

"They will expect a strong punishment, I agree. But they have never conceived of death as being a possible sentence. Exile is what they will expect, until you explain why it is not practical. Imprisonment will be their next expectation. Possibly even forcing them to labor. But nothing more than that."

"If I gave Fuilin and Mauril over to labor amongst the elves that cut wood for the stronghold or dig the middens for the capital, for example, do you think they will return from those tasks unscathed? Even if I hold them in a cell in the stronghold, visited only by guards and servants, do you think none of those visitors will take advantage of the opportunity to teach Fuilin and Mauril a bit of a lesson in their own way. Honestly, Celonhael?"

Celonhael frowned. "No, I confess I do not."

"So I must guard Fuilin, who attempted to kill my son, so that he is not harmed himself?" Thranduil shook his head. "Or, I could prevent him from suffering -- by killing him." He laughed bitterly. "This is an impossible decision." He both sounded and looked exhausted, though it was still early morning.

Celonhael looked at him sadly. "When Oropher asked us our opinions of the people's request that he become king, do you remember what my response was?"

Thranduil nodded. "You advised him not to accept that title. You told him that what he had known as member of the High King's court was far different from the responsibilities that the King himself must face. I remember your words very well. I have been taught their value--and true meaning--many times and this is certainly one of them," he said softly. "But there is nothing that I would not give of myself if I was convinced that it would serve or protect the people of this realm," he concluded firmly.

The room was silent for a long moment.

"You surely do not intend to make this decision now?" Celonhael finally asked.

"No. I will at least discuss it with the full council, and undoubtedly give it much more thought after that. Perhaps if I had given more time to considering Demil's fate, we might have avoided this particular incident. But I am faced with this decision, regardless of when I make it, and it is weighing on me. I wanted to hear your opinions now."

"Allow me to take them back to the stronghold, my lord," Celonhael suggested. "It will be a day, at least, before Dannenion is able to travel. With him, you will not be able to travel quickly. If I took a guard, I can have Fuilin and Mauril secured by this time tomorrow. At lease in the stronghold, we know who we can trust and who we cannot, largely speaking. Here, we have no idea who their allies are. And their presence exposes Legolas and Anastor to more danger."

"You want them out of my sight, so I will not be provoked into dealing with them immediately," Thranduil said.

Celonhael only nodded.

"I do not deny that is a good idea. And you are correct that it is far more likely that Manadhien's remaining servants--who unfortunately only Legolas, Anastor and Tulus can identify--will make an attempt to rescue them here rather than from the stronghold. Conuion, decide what guards you can spare to send with him."

"Thank you, my lord," Celonhael responded, standing.

Conuion did as well, nodding his acknowledgment of the king's request.

Thranduil watched them leave and then turned to Legolas, who remained seated at the table.

"Your thoughts?" he asked. "You were uncharacteristically quiet during this discussion."

Legolas shook his head. "It is far from my place to advise you on matters such as this," he said quickly. "I do not have the experience to do so."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "On the contrary, as much as it grieves me -- and it grieves me deeply -- you do have the experience to understand this decision."

Legolas had to make an effort to hold his father's gaze.

"Moreover, you are the injured party, Legolas. You and Anastor. I think I know Anastor's opinion, given his initial response to Fuilin. Though I doubt he has given his words or actions any consideration and he is still a child. He is also a woodelf. So perhaps Celonhael is wrong about how woodelves would react. What are your thoughts?"

"I do not know," he finally said. "I agree with Uncle Celonhael that executing them is unthinkable. It has never been done, save in a Noldorin court. Of course, Fuilin and Mauril are Noldor. And perhaps the reason death has never been considered as a sentence in a Sindarin or Silvan court is because no elf that killed a Sindarin or Silvan elf has ever been brought to justice. Also, I can see how imprisoning them would be difficult, as Conuion said. Dangerous even. But as for Anastor representing woodelves, consider his father and his influence on Anastor's judgments before drawing any conclusions on that subject."

A genuinely amused smile graced Thranduil's face in response to that comment.

Legolas smiled back at him, but shook his head. "I do not know," he repeated. "I agree with you that they are irredeemable, at least outside of Mandos Halls. But if they can be reformed there, I would not want you to be the one to send them there. I am sorry, adar. Sorry that I cannot see a better solution for this and sorry that you are faced with such a terrible decision."

Thranduil nodded and laid a hand on Legolas's shoulder. "Put this out of your mind. It is my burden, not yours. Go find Anastor and make sure that he is...as well as he can be, at any rate. Try to encourage him to spend some time with his father. Or at least keep him company yourself. Spend some time in the forest with him. But do not leave the village. And carry your weapons." He pointed a finger at Legolas. "I know you do not like Belloth, but mind him, just the same."

Legolas laughed at that last order. "I will, adar. Belloth will not hesitate to see to that." He stood and left Thranduil alone to contemplate Fuilin and Mauril's fates.

*~*~*

Thoughts swirled through Legolas's mind as he walked to the center of the village and asked one of the elves there which cottage belonged to the healer. He resolutely ignored Belloth, who followed him, mercifully, at the same distance that he followed the king. That was better than the last time Tulus had been away and Belloth took his place. Then, Belloth stood practically shoulder-to-shoulder with Legolas. Constantly.

Legolas made an effort to dismiss Belloth from his thoughts. He made an equal effort to not think about the decision his father faced. As he approached the healer's cottage, he saw Tulus sitting on its porch. Tulus was what Legolas wanted to think about. His guard stood in response to Legolas's approach and nodded to someone behind him--Belloth, presumably. Tulus would probably not look upon Belloth so amicably if he knew the true reasons he had been relieved of his duty. Legolas sighed. And he was forbidden to tell him. Well, he was not forbidden to discuss other topics with Tulus, and if that inspired his guard to confront this situation sooner rather than later, all the better.

"Tulus," Legolas greeted him, carefully leaving his back to where ever Belloth might be. Then he continued in a very soft voice. "I want to talk with you.  Are there any other guards about, other than Belloth?"

"Not that I am aware of," Tulus responded.

Legolas scanned the surrounding area and his gaze settled on a little garden, with a bench in its center, in the middle of the village square. It was in a sunny clearing, with no trees near it. And if they walked straight towards the bench and sat on it, Belloth would have to come around from behind them to see their faces. He would have to come out of the trees to be close enough to hear them. If he did, Legolas would think of something else. "Come with me," he said, and he headed straight to the garden. Tulus followed. "Sit," Legolas ordered, seating himself.

Tulus sat, his expression now demanding an explanation. He was perfectly capable of understanding why Legolas had chosen this location to talk, especially after asking if anymore of the king's guards were in the area.

Legolas remained silent, waiting to see what Belloth would do. He apparently stayed in the trees. Legolas could not see him. Good, he thought and looked at his guard. "First, I want to tell you this: adar did not ask me anything--yet--about how Anastor and I were captured. About why we were together in the first place to be captured. When he does, I will have to tell him. If he does not ask, when he questions Glilavan about this incident--and there is no possibility that he will fail to do so--I will have to tell him then. When I tell him, adar is going to believe Glilavan made the changes he made to the drill in order to facilitate this attempt on my life. I believe that Glilavan was part of this attempt, Tulus. And Adar is going to be very suspicious of you, as well. He will believe you knew something." Legolas paused to make sure he had Tulus's attention. "I believe that also."

Legolas watched as Tulus stared at him and paled several shades. "My lord, I would never betray you or knowingly allow you to come to harm. You cannot believe that I would."

Legolas shook his head. "Allow it? No, I do not believe that. But you were suspicious of Glilavan's motivations for changing that drill. Too suspicious. You hesitated to allow me to participate in it."

"I was suspicious. And I should have listened to my own instincts. I regret not doing so more than you could possibly understand...."

"I understand fairly thoroughly, Tulus. I imagine you regret not listening to your instincts as much as I regret not listening to you."

Tulus nodded once. "Very likely. But I swear to you, my lord, I had no specific, advance knowledge of this plot. Or any specific idea why Glilavan partnered you and Anastor. Or that Demil was anywhere near you. If I had known any of those things, I would have stopped this, not participated."

"I believe that, Tulus. But I also have believed for a very long time, given how you hover over me when I am alone with Glilavan, that you do not entirely trust him. Am I correct?"

Tulus closed his eyes.

"I know that I am asking you to betray your own son, Tulus. But consider for a moment the fact that he has already betrayed you. He could not have believed that you would let Demil take me without a fight. And he could not have believed a fight would not result in you being at least injured, if not killed. Glilavan has put you in a very bad position, Tulus. Is that not true?"

"I am aware of that, my lord," Tulus whispered. "And it is very likely that the king has not questioned you on this because he already knows of Glilavan's involvement. He knows because I had Glilavan escorted back to the stronghold by the captain of the Path Guard."

Now it was Legolas's turn to gape. "You arrested Glilavan?"

Tulus nodded.

Legolas would have never expected that. What a terrible choice for Tulus to have to make! "Forgive me, Tulus. I underestimated you," he said softly.

"In more ways than you realize," Tulus replied, looking down.

"I apologize, Tulus."

Tulus did not reply and Legolas remained quiet a long moment as he considered if he should say more.

"The king asked me not to discuss this with you," he finally said, very softly. "But I do not think I can obey him."

Tulus did not manage to cover his reaction to that statement. "I have no idea what this is going to be about," he interrupted in a whisper, looking surreptitiously around himself. "And I have no desire to know. But if the king told you not to discuss it, you should not do so..."

Legolas waved him to silence. "All I am going to say is this: it is time for you to be completely honest with the king. Please volunteer to him any information that you have not already shared with him about Glilavan or about your past dealings with Manadhien. Immediately."

Tulus studied Legolas with wide eyes. "How do you believe that I have failed to be honest with the king, my lord?" he finally asked.

Legolas frowned. Tulus was a terrible liar. "I sincerely fear to find out," he said. "But it is clear to me from your reaction just now that you have not been." He leaned closer. "Please tell me, Tulus. Perhaps I can help you. I know that you would not willingly betray me. Or my father. I will help you if I can."  

Tulus held Legolas's gaze for a long moment. Then he looked away. "I will tell you what I had already intended to tell the king once we return to the stronghold. I will tell you because you have the right to hear it from me directly, rather than being shocked by it in court." Tulus clasped his hands together in his lap, twisting his wedding ring as he struggled to find the words, or perhaps the courage, to speak. "I did not suspect that Glilavan was plotting against you, my lord," he finally said. "I knew that he was..."

Legolas loosed a sharp breath, as if Tulus had punched him.

"....I did not know the specifics. I swear that I did not. I did not know when it would happen or how, but I knew he was complicit in Manadhien's schemes."

Legolas stared at Tulus, struck dumb. "You intend to tell my adar that?" was all he managed to say once he found his voice.

"I cannot lie to him or you about it any longer," Tulus responded. "When I learned for certain that Glilavan was involved, after your grandparents were killed, I had hoped to pull him away from Manadhien's influence while, at the same time, keeping you safe. And I feared...I could not...how could I bring my own son to his execution? Only your actions prevented the king from executing Demil, after all. But now that I see how deep Glilavan is in this.... I cannot allow it to continue, no matter the consequences. For either of us."

Legolas swallowed. "How...what did you know, precisely?"

Tulus sighed. "When your grandparents were killed, I confronted Glilavan. I asked him directly if he was involved in Manadhien's schemes. He confessed that he was. That he sent her information regarding troop movements to help her avoid arrest. I reminded him that when you are attacked, I am as well. I hoped that would wake him up. Make him see how dangerous a situation he had enmeshed himself in." Tulus closed his eyes tightly. "Legolas, he told me then that he knew Manadhien had decided to target you next, because you did indeed shoot her...hit her in that battle with your arrow. She did not want you to become any more skilled of a warrior. Glilavan told me that his hopes were that a plan could be made to eliminate you, while not injuring me too badly."

Again, Legolas was struck speechless. "You intend to tell adar that?" he finally repeated.

"I have to. I cannot allow this to continue now that I see that the threat was a serious one," Tulus said.

Legolas snorted and shook his head. "Adar will kill you where you stand," he muttered. That was a statement he had heard others make about his father. Dolgailon and Tulus had said Thranduil would kill Manadhien in the past. And he had scolded or scoffed at them for saying it. But in this instance, he believed his father would do it. He would not be prevented from doing it.

"I know," Tulus replied. "Me before my son, so I do not have to watch that. That is my only wish at this point."

A horrified look claimed Legolas. How could Tulus even say that!

"I am so sorry that I allowed this to happen," Tulus continued, not noticing Legolas's reaction, since his gaze was still fixed on his hands in his lap. "I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I hope that one day you will be able to give it. If for no other reason than holding anger in your heart does not serve you."

Legolas frowned. He was not angry. He was hurt, to be certain, but not angry. He should be. He had the right to be and he knew it. His guard.... His friend, since he was an infant.... Tulus had known for years that Manadhien was plotting against him and he did nothing. Nothing! It was his duty to speak up, both as a member of the Guard and as a friend. But Legolas found those facts did not stir anger in him so much as something else Tulus said stirred pity: he hoped to be executed before his son, so that he would not have to see it! Elbereth! No wonder he could not come forward if that was his best hope!

Legolas reached to grasp Tulus's hands. "I am not angry with you. I hold you blameless in this, or at least largely so. I understand how difficult it would be for you to betray your own son, especially if you expected him to be executed. Glilavan is at fault, apparently. And he repaid your loyalty and love for him very poorly, indeed. If I am angry at anyone, it is him. I will help you try to find a way to present this to the king, if I can."

Tulus stared at Legolas for a long moment, guilt and shame mixed with relief in his features. Then he shook his head. "No, Legolas," he said firmly. "You cannot involve yourself in this in anyway that appears to help me. That would make you complicit in treason. I will not allow it." He slouched, as if this conversation had drained him. Legolas did not doubt that it did. "I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I appreciate it. A great deal."

Legolas's mind raced, now more than ever, but there was one thing he was certain of. "You do not have my forgiveness, Tulus. You have my friendship."

*~*~*

Late that evening, Legolas sat on the bench he had shared earlier with his father to watch the sun rise. Now he stared at Menelvagor, the guardian warrior, peeking through the leaves of the trees surrounding the cottage. He was still deliberating everything that Tulus had told him, inspecting every memory of he and Tulus and Glilavan that he could recall. Thranduil and Conuion sat under a nearby tree, their heads together in a quiet, but obviously intense, conversation. Legolas was glad his father was occupied. He doubted his ability to hide what he was thinking from the king's sharp gaze.

Legolas glanced at Anastor, ambling out of the cottage, and he scooted over on the bench to give him room to sit. He did, plopping down beside Legolas, but leaning over to prop himself up, elbows on his knees, rather than resting back against the outside wall of the cottage. After a moment, Anastor drew his boot knife and began turning it over and over in his hand.

"When Amglaur was killed, there was a battle, right?" Anastor asked without looking at Legolas.

"Yes," Legolas answered, trying to keep his tone even. He did not want to be distracted from his thoughts.

"Did you fight?"

"Yes," Legolas responded.

Anastor looked up at him from his slouched over position and it seemed he was trying to read something in Legolas's face.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Adar tried to send Galithil, nana, daernana and I to safety, but our escape was cut off. We had to fight," he elaborated when Anastor continued to study him.

"Orcs? Only orcs?" Anastor asked.

Legolas loosed a bitter laugh. "Yes, only orcs. Only about seventy of them, is what I heard the warriors reporting to Dolgailon. Adar was almost killed in that battle, Anastor. I was almost killed."

Anastor nodded. "I remember. Thranduil was away from the capital for over a month. Did you kill any of the orcs?"

That question made Legolas draw himself up straighter. "I certainly did. A good number from the trees and even a few on the ground. Most importantly, I killed the one that cut Adar."

Anastor nodded and looked back at his knife, tracing the pattern carved into its hilt with his thumb. "You obviously feel quite good about that," he said quietly.

Now Legolas frowned at Anastor. "And why should I not feel good about it. They are orcs. They are responsible for this," he said, pointing towards the withered trees. "And they were trying to kill me. And my adar and naneth and cousin and grandparents. Why would I not feel good about destroying as many of them as I could?"

"That man would have killed us," Anastor whispered, now clutching the knife. "But I imagine he would not have killed us as fast as we would have wished." He paused and when he continued, Legolas had to strain to hear him. "I know we had to kill him, but ...I just...it is just that...I have never killed anyone before. I mean, I have killed deer and rabbits and quail, obviously. But not...people. When I get a buck, I am proud of that. I cannot say that I am proud of killing the man. In fact, when I think about it..." he looked back at Legolas. "I feel a little sick, to be honest. Did you feel strange about killing the orcs?"

As soon as Anastor mentioned the man, Legolas's irritation melted away. By the time Anastor stopped speaking, Legolas felt inclined to put an arm around him. Except Anastor would never tolerate such a gesture. He shook his head. "I think the difference is that we have been raised to hate orcs and know that they are only capable of destruction, so there is nothing in them that can be redeemed. But men...they are so unpredictable. Most that I have met seem willing to do horrible things, but if you give them a chance to make a better choice, some will and some will not, so you have to take time to judge them. And adar says that even evil ones we should hesitate to kill unless forced to do so, since they are still Iluvatar's children, as we are."

"Would the king have killed that man, Legolas?"

"Yes, I would have," Thranduil answered. Both Legolas and Anastor jumped slightly. "Without hesitation. Any man that buys slaves, elven, dwarven or mannish, is evil. Do not doubt that you did what had to be done. Either you had to kill the man, or you had to die yourselves. You did well, Anastor. You will be a fine warrior."

"Thank you," Anastor replied. Now his voice was rough. "And I know I did what I had to. But I still feel...not guilty, because I know it was justified...but I do not feel completely right about it."  

"How you feel is understandable, Anastor. It is how you know that you are a better person than those men and elves that held you," Thranduil assured him.

"I understand very well how you feel, Anastor," Legolas added softly.

"Demil?" Anastor whispered.

Legolas nodded.

"You also did what has to be done, Legolas. What you were forced to do. Demil gave you no choice," Anastor said firmly.

"It does not make it feel better though, does it?" Legolas asked.

Anastor shook his head and looked out into the forest. "Adar told us--Maidhien and nana and I--that you stopped the king from executing Demil when he had him exiled instead. Adar was truly impressed by you. And by the fact that the king actually spared Demil. But I bet that you regret that now."

Legolas's brows drew together. Did he regret it? "I regret that Demil was able to injure you and Tulus and I," he began, working through his thoughts out loud. "And I deeply regret what happened to your adar. I wish that I had taken one of the opportunities Demil gave me before your adar had to suffer such a fate, but I did not have the courage to do so until I was convinced there was no other option." He paused. "But I do not regret asking the king not to execute Demil. Mithrandir said that the wise are slow to hand out death in judgment and I agree with that. Who knows. Perhaps it was as much adar's mercy as Manadhien's evil deeds that finally persuaded your adar to see the folly of aiding her against the king." He looked at his father. "And we do not know if the converse is true. If fear of such a severe penalty might compel someone who would otherwise be honest to remain silent or seek to manage situations themselves that are beyond their ability to manage. No, there are too many unknown consequences of such a deed, and once done, it is impossible to undo it. I cannot support it. Under any circumstances. I think those are my thoughts on that matter."

Anastor appeared satisfied by that answer. More likely he was bored by it. He rarely paid attention when Legolas or his cousins reasoned through any complex concept. Thranduil, on the other hand, studied Legolas carefully. Legolas held his gaze.