Disclaimer: Tolkien all, sheraiah zip. No profit is being made.

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“It has been five days and still we are no closer to finding out if Lithmor is behind this or if he is working for another. He is being very canny and has managed to lose every person I have had trailing him,” Aragorn ground out in frustration. “Elladan, if you and Elrohir were not so visible at court, I would have you take over the job.”

“While I admit that I would enjoy it, I agree that we are too visible to be effective. Perhaps one of Legolas’ folk?” the elder twin suggested, clearly as frustrated as his brother-in-law.

“Well, none of my people have been successful either,” Faramir stated with a grimace. He still felt partly responsible for Legolas’ abduction and resulting injuries, as well as the attempt on Arwen and Gimli’s wounds even though all of them had assured him that they did not agree.

“Bringing any more of Legolas’ folk in would only serve to raise the serpent’s suspicions, “ Elrohir countered. “We need someone who is already here and is especially skilled at going unnoticed.” Elladan arched a brow at his twin.

“Brother-mine, you sound as if you have that someone in mind.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” the younger of Elrond’s sons replied with a sly grin. “Thranduil’s assistant, Luinloth, would be the perfect choice. One, he is here already. Two, by now the staff and guards are well used to seeing him going about and seeing to Thranduil’s needs. Three, he has performed this function in the past and done it well. And lastly, he has been most careful to foster the impression that he speaks very little Westron.”

“And he is an elf and can move silently, hear far better than any human however skilled, and hide in places that humans would never be able to follow.” Elessar nodded, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “Was the part about pretending not to speak much Westron his idea or Thranduil’s, I wonder?”

“I truly would not put it past either of them,” Elladan said with an amused snort. “Thranduil is the more devious-minded of the two, but Luinloth is at least a millennia older. He was part of Elu Thingol’s household before he came into Oropher’s.” The elder twin grinned at his companions. “He was also Thranduil’s tutor when Thranduil was an elfling.”

“I will need to tell Thranduil and Legolas what we have discussed in any case, so I will suggest using Luinloth’s talents at the same time. Hopefully, Thranduil will agree,” Elessar said, rising from the chair he had been occupying.

“Unless I am very much mistaken, Estel, he will.” Elrohir clapped his brother-in-law on the shoulder affectionately.

“Aye,” Elladan seconded. “It will please him, particularly due to the fact that Luinloth will report to him first.”

“So long as we get the information, I care not which of us hears it first,” the king of Gondor and Arnor stated firmly.

Thranduil nodded to the guards at his son’s door as he passed them, Serai in tow. Once inside, he led her to the open door to the balcony, smiling as he heard his son laughing at the jesting between the hobbits and the dwarf. ‘Good,’ he thought, ‘they are all still here and it should be time for another of their meals. Legolas is not the only one in need of feeding.’

He glanced down at the child on his arm. All elves revered life and they almost universally adored children. Thranduil, for all his brusqueness, was no exception. In his eyes, the girl was little more than an infant, to say nothing of the child she was carrying. He was no healer, but he had sensed the babe, as well as the healed scars Serai bore as soon as the girl had placed her hand on his arm. A brief flash of rage flowed through him at the thought of that sort of harm being inflicted on anyone, but he was careful to control his expression. It would not do to frighten the child and cause further harm. Schooling his expression carefully, he guided her out onto Legolas’ balcony.

“Ion-nin, there is someone here who wishes to make your acquaintance under better circumstances than when you first met,” he called, smiling pleasantly. Legolas’ head turned in their direction and he met his father’s eyes for a moment, subtly letting Thranduil know that he was not fooling his son at least, before turning a dazzling smile on Serai.

“I have wished that as well,” the prince said, holding his hand out to them. “I am glad to have the chance to thank you.” Completely disarmed by Legolas’ charm, Serai moved forward to take his hand without hesitation.

“It’s not necessary,” she replied with a shy smile of her own. “It was no more than anyone would have done.”

“You underestimate yourself and overestimate others, lass,” Gimli rumbled from the other side of the chair Legolas was occupying. “You knew perfectly well that your were in danger and you acted anyway. There are a lot of folks who wouldn’t have.” He graced her with a gentle smile, which Thranduil was amused to note that she returned. Most females seemed to adore Gimli. The Elvenking shook his head silently. Add one more item to the list of female mysteries, he thought. He refused to admit that he was beginning to become a bit fond of the bearded curmudgeon himself.

“Gimli is correct,” Legolas replied. “For once,” he added with a sly grin for the dwarf who scowled at him.

“I am usually correct, you simply lack the wit to realize it,” Gimli returned, scowling despite the fact that the corner of his mouth was twitching with humor.

“Nay, I am not the one so deluded as to believe his own illusions, Master stone-cleaver, else I would have to shorten myself and grow fur upon my face,” the prince returned, struggling to maintain his smug expression. Gimli surrendered the battle with a great shout of laughter.

“I’d pay good gold to see that, princeling. But you’d have to smoke as well and I know you’d never last past the first puff.” He clouted the elf’s shoulder affectionately, careful not to strike too hard. Legolas’ face scrunched adorably in disgust.

“I must concede on that point, friend-Gimli. How you stand the smell of it is beyond my understanding.” He turned back to Serai, who was still giggling at their banter, before Gimli could make use of the opening to launch another volley. “But, we are forgetting our manners. Have you met everyone present?” Serai managed to control her giggles with an effort.

“Mostly, yes.” She flashed her diffident smile at the hobbits, who greeted her warmly.

“Well, as you have heard, this is Gimli, son of Gloin, a dwarf of some renown,” Legolas said with an arch look for Gimli, who snorted in amusement. “Gimli, this is Serai, the brave lady who risked her life for my sake.” At this point Rose Gamgee stepped forward.

“Pay them no mind. They go on like this all the time and not a lick of sense between them,” she said tartly, guiding Serai to one of the other chairs. Thranduil resisted the urge to chuckle at his son‘s expense with some effort as Rose continued uninterrupted. “You’re just in time for tea and a good thing, too. You need feeding almost as much as Legolas does.” The afore mentioned prince had the grace to look shamefaced, but like the others had sense enough not to comment. Gimli merely grinned behind his beard, not a bit fazed. The hobbitess’ gaze shifted to the Elvenking, who arched a brow at her in anticipation. “You too, King Thranduil. From the look of you, you’re one that doesn’t eat when he worries.”

He inclined his head gracefully, unwilling to argue what he knew to be a valid point. From the doorway to the balcony he heard Luinloth’s faint snort and muttered, ‘I have been telling you that for millennia to no effect’ in the Silvan tongue before his assistant and several servants approached bearing covered trays. He nearly sighed with relief to see Legolas eyeing the trays with interest. Rose evidently saw it as well and she smiled at the younger elf.

“Hungry, Legolas dear?” she asked, handing him a napkin and a cup of tea.

“A bit, perhaps,” he replied with a puckish grin, drawing another giggle out of Serai. He sipped the tea and nodded to Rose when he found it sweet enough. She smiled again and proceeded to make certain that everyone had tea and food before taking her own.

Thranduil settled next to his son, pleasantly surprised to see elven treats included among the traditional hobbit fare, although he had found over the last several days that he was fonder of hobbit cuisine than he was of Gondorian. He glanced at Luinloth, who gave him a bland look confirming his suspicions as to where the Gondorian staff had obtained the recipe. He had to admit, upon tasting, that the kitchen staff had done a fairly good job on the one dish included that was traditional to Eryn Lasgalen. The pastry made with nuts and honey still tasted a bit off, likely due to the fact that a different sort of nut had been used in place of the conventional one, but it was not a bad effort. Legolas seemed to agree and Thranduil was heartened to see his son tucking into the food with obvious enjoyment.

Serai seemed to be enjoying both the food and the company, although she declined to try the pastry from Greenwood stating that she was not fond of the type of nut used. The hobbits did likewise, probably to ensure that Legolas ate more. Between them, Rose, Sam, and Merry made certain that her plate stayed full while Gimli and Thranduil did the same for Legolas. Pippin elected to provide the entertainment, in between bites of his repast, and he had them all laughing merrily. It was to this scene that Elessar, the twins, and Faramir entered.

“I would wish to see such a merry scene every day,” Gondor’s king declared with a grin as he crossed the balcony towards the group. Suddenly his expression sharpened as he looked at Legolas, who had gone ashen. “Mellon-nin, are you well?”

“Nay,” the elf replied, raising a shaking hand before his face, “I think perhaps that I am not.” Thranduil reached for him as he doubled over, clasping his arms around his middle. Elessar grasped the prince’s shoulders and gently drew him from his father’s embrace to lay him on the floor. Thranduil stumbled to his feet, a general feeling of malaise suffusing him. He, too, went deathly pale and Luinloth rushed forward to support his weight as he doubled over. Through the pain in his abdomen, he felt himself being placed on the floor next to his son. His hand shot out, trembling violently, to catch Elessar’s sleeve. When the king of Gondor’s startled gaze met his, Thranduil hissed one word through his clenched teeth.

“Poison!”

TBC

A/N: I admit it; I’m an evil, cliffie writing wench!