Fic: Doubt (5/5)
Disclaimer: Not one Elf.
Author's Note: So… This is the end of this story. The follow-up will start soon, though I'll probably post a couple of lighter one-shots before that.
Part V: Answers
Immediately after Council the next morning I am waylaid by Eredhion and Voronwë, who insist that I should speak to Úlloth. Nothing I can say will persuade them that it is unnecessary. They only grow increasingly frustrated and insistent that I should hear what she has to say.
There is nothing for it. I tell them to bring her to my study.
Perhaps I can at least find a way to put an end to this practice of encouraging the maids of chamber to eavesdrop on private conversations and report them to the Royal Guard.
I feel an irrational stab of frustration, and I force it down. In truth, I am angry with Eredhion and Voronwë, with Úlloth, with Saeldur for putting me in this position, and with thrice-damned Arahael and his thrice-damned father for causing all this trouble in the first place. I do not know if I am angrier with Eredhion and Voronwë for spying or because they are forcing me to think about a situation I would much sooner pretend is not real.
I bite my lip. One way or another, this must be dealt with.
Eredhion and Voronwë do not withdraw after they have shown Úlloth into my study. For a moment I consider ordering them out, but then I decide they might as well stay.
"Please, sit, Úlloth," I say, forcing calmness I do not feel into my voice. "Eredhion and Voronwë tell me you have something to say."
"Yes, Prince Legolas," she mumbles, sitting on the very edge of her chair. She blushes and looks away, clearly terrified.
"You may speak freely," I tell her soothingly. "You have nothing to fear."
"I…" She meets my eyes. "I overheard… I was not… Prince Legolas, you must believe… I did not intend to listen."
"I understand. Tell me what you heard."
"I overheard… I heard Lord Saeldur. I know he is your friend and you will not believe me, but I swear it is true! I heard him, I know his voice well enough and he was in his room - I promise you I do not lie."
"You have nothing to fear," I repeat. "Tell me the truth, Úlloth. That is all I ask."
"Yes, Prince Legolas. I… I was working in Lamben's room, it is the one beside Lord Saeldur's. I… I could hear… I could hear Lord Saeldur. He was in his room, and he spoke… Loudly." I refrain from pointing out that however loudly Saeldur spoke, Úlloth could not have heard him unless she had stood in the corridor outside with her ear pressed to the keyhole. "He said - he spoke to someone else in the room, telling him to be quick, because time was short."
Úlloth pales even further. I offer her a cup of wine, which she gratefully accepts, taking several sips of it to fortify herself before she goes on.
"He said… he said you were with his mother, with Lady Celephindeth. And he had… he had told her you felt uncomfortable… in her home. He said she would keep you for some time, but she would grow suspicious if he was away too long, and… And she might ask difficult questions of him."
I draw in a slow breath. There is no way Úlloth could know what Celephindeth told me, unless she truly did overhear -
But… Even if Saeldur did intend to… Surely he would not implicate his mother in high treason?
This is impossible.
"My… my prince?" Úlloth mumbles.
"Go on, Úlloth," I tell her, as gently as I can manage.
"The - the other Elf, I did not recognize his voice - said something about poison. In… In the wine in your sitting-room, he said. I - It would be easy for somebody to poison that wine, Prince Legolas, anybody, because Master Galion leaves the trays ready outside the cellar for the maids to take up when they do the rooms, and everyone knows which is for which room, and - Elbereth have mercy on us, they sit there for an hour, sometimes, before the maids take them. So many of us go up and down, nobody would even know who had poisoned it."
Elbereth.
"Thank you, Úlloth," I say quietly. "You did well to come to me."
"My prince, you will… What will you do?"
"I will tell you," Voronwë says from behind her. "Do you know which of the maids of chamber is responsible for Legolas' room?"
"It is Linthel, my lord. I know her."
"Can she be trusted?"
"She is completely loyal to the King. I will answer for that. And she would never forgive herself if harm came to Prince Legolas through her actions, however unknowingly."
"Good. Tell her, then, that before she takes the tray up to Legolas' room, she is to pour away the wine, wash out the jug thoroughly, and have Galion refill it in front of her. Every time. There is no need to disturb Galion's normal routine. Only tell her to do this. And tell her to come to me, or to Eredhion, if she has any reason to believe anything has been tampered with."
Úlloth nods quickly. "You will be careful?" she implores, turning to me. "Prince Legolas, if something were to happen to you…"
"I will be careful," I assure her. "Thank you, Úlloth."
She bobs a quick curtsey. Eredhion gets to his feet. "I will come with you," he says, "and speak to Galion. To Linthel, as well, if she can be found at this hour."
"Spare me the lecture," I tell Voronwë when they have gone. "I will be careful."
"Promise me you will," Voronwë says, his tone uncharacteristically grave. "It is not only your life at stake, Legolas. You are our prince, and your father's son."
"I will be careful. You have my word."
Voronwë only nods. Before either of us can say more, there is rapid knocking on the door, followed by the entry of one of the guards.
"Prince Legolas, Lady Ellaurë has sent for you. The Grey Wizard is here, approaching the stronghold as we speak."
Mithrandir is smiling when he alights from his horse in the courtyard, dispelling my worries about ill tidings from Imladris.
"Let me look at you," he tells me, taking me by the shoulders. "I have not seen you in so long I was beginning to forget what you looked like. You still look ridiculously like your father."
I cannot help but laugh. "It is true that I have not been able to visit Imladris as often as I once did."
"The nights lengthen in Greenwood, and so do the duties of the young Elf-lords who hold the realm against the Shadow. And your letters grow untidy, or so the sons of Elrond complain to me. Elrohir said deciphering your last note to him took more effort than translating a thousand-page Dwarven history from the original Khuzdul. Even making allowance for Elrohir's capacity for exaggeration, that sounds serious."
"Have you come to lecture me about penmanship?" I tease.
His smile widens. "I was bidden come here at once and ascertain that nothing had happened to you."
"Elrohir said that?" I ask doubtfully.
"Not in the least. Lady Celebrían did. I am very happy that I will, at least, be able to reassure her on that point."
"Indeed, Mithrandir, I am perfectly well."
"Perhaps." Mithrandir taps the ground with his staff, frowning at the dust it sends up. "My lady," he says to Ellaurë, "Your King will not mind if I take a few moments to rest from my journey before I pay him my respects?"
"Not in the least," she says, but her eyes warn me to be wary.
Mithrandir affects not to notice. "Good," he says. "I fancy a stroll. Come with me, Thranduilion. I believe I need a valiant Elven warrior to protect me from the perils in the woods."
I laugh again, which seems to please the Wizard. "I will come, but from which peril do you need my protection?"
"From your father, Thranduilion," Mithrandir says as he walks away in the direction of the gates. "He has still not forgiven me for the… minor incident… with the weaver in Dale. I am not frightened of Orcs or spiders, but it takes more courage than I have to face the wrath of the Elven-king in his own forest."
I have to suppress more laughter as I nod to the gate guards to let us through.
Mithrandir stays silent as we walk through the forest. When we are some distance from the stronghold, he says, "Can anyone hear us?"
"The trees. There are no patrols near enough, if that is what you mean."
"The trees will keep your secrets, I have no doubt." He seats himself on a fallen log. "Dark times are upon us, Legolas. I have… a sense of something amiss. I know your father does not approve of Galadriel, but I wish he could find it in him to work with her." I do not respond to that, and after a moment Mithrandir laughs mirthlessly. "I should know better than to expect you to admit, even to me, that Thranduil is mistaken in any of his actions. I… I do understand, Legolas, why he feels the way he does. All the same… The time may yet come when we must unite once more against our common Enemy."
I glance at him. "You have heard something?"
"Something, and nothing. I walk among races of which the Elven-prince of Eryn Galen has never heard. I hear of drownings and vanishings and disappearances, and most of the time they are of no consequence. Accidents are not uncommon among the mortal races. All the same… Sometimes there is more. I sense something, Legolas. Something dark."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"You think I should be telling your father?" He leans forward, planting his staff in the ground. "I should. And I will. But it was important that you should know, first, from me. Whatever is coming, I believe you have a part to play." He smiles then. "But it is too soon to be concerned about it. All I have is the shadow of a feeling. I could be wrong. And even if I am right, generations of Men will come and go before it is time for us to act."
"I hope you are wrong, Mithrandir."
"For once, Thranduilion, so do I." He glances at me sideways. "Now tell me what troubles you."
"Nothing troubles me," I respond automatically.
Mithrandir scoffs. "Have I not known you since you were a slip of an Elfling just learning to walk? I know when something troubles you, and I know it is more than fretting about what will happen when Thorontur's daughter goes to your father's court."
"You have heard about that?"
"The trees are speaking of nothing but that - well, of that, and of the bowmanship of their favourite Elf. They seem to approve of Lady Calathiel's scheme. I am told you do as well."
"I will follow the will of the King's Council in this. But I do not think it is necessarily a bad idea. What is your view?"
"My view is that I recognize an attempt at a distraction when I see it. Answer my question, Legolas, or I will be forced to tell Elladan and Elrohir that you are disturbed about something and unwilling to speak about it. I daresay they will be here within the year, ready to take you to Imladris by force and keep you there until you admit the truth."
I shake my head. As much as I trust Mithrandir, I will not betray Saeldur to him.
It is the other one, one of the trees says suddenly. The other one troubles him.
I glare at it. Be silent.
And watch as you are killed by traitors and kinslayers who lurk in the shadows? I will name him if you will not.
There are no traitors. There is no need to discuss this further. Be silent!
The tree subsides sulkily, but I know better than to suppose Mithrandir will be as easily silenced.
Sure enough, a moment later, he speaks.
"Traitors and kinslayers," he says, softly. "Those are strong words to be heard beneath the green leaves of Thranduil's realm."
"They are words that need not be repeated," I mutter, glaring at the tree. "To anyone. Ever."
"Nonetheless," Mithrandir says briskly, "they have been spoken. It is useless to pretend otherwise. I will not ask you who, Legolas, because it is clear you will not answer. Let me tell you what I conjecture, and you can tell me if I err."
Not having an option, I nod.
"The trees clearly think somebody is a traitor. Somebody close to you, or they would not be so worried. Somebody you want to believe is above suspicion. But if you truly believed that, you would not be troubled, so something has happened to make you doubt it. Am I wrong?"
"You are not wrong," I acknowledge grudgingly.
"You want to trust this he, whoever he is, but you cannot, and you feel guilty because you cannot." Mithrandir absent-mindedly draws a circle on the ground with his staff. "Because something has happened that suggests his guilt but does not prove it." He marks a sharp slash through the circle. "You could always ask him."
"So I could."
"But if he is innocent, it will wound him immeasurably that you suspected otherwise. And if he is guilty he will claim to be innocent. His words will be the same either way. You will never know if he speaks the truth. It will not help you to confront him. And your very admirable sense of honour will not allow you to involve anybody else if you are uncertain of his guilt."
"Do you have an answer?" I ask dryly.
"An answer? I do not read the minds of Elves, Legolas, or I would offer. I can give you counsel."
"I would be pleased to hear it."
"Then I will say this: be cautious. It is unwise to trust anybody so blindly that you end with a dagger in your back. I do not want to see you killed. I also do not want to see you miserable, which you will be if you trust nobody."
I shake my head. "And so both yes and no."
"And so," Mithrandir says repressively, "I think you have good instincts. The question is not whether the most trusted of your captains will betray you." I start, and he scoffs. "I am not a fool. And anybody might betray you. The true question, my young Elf-prince, is whether you trust yourself, because you believe he is loyal to you and you are afraid you are wrong. It is your own judgement you call into question."
After I have escorted Mithrandir back to the stronghold and handed him into Arbellason's care, I go to the archery fields. I need to think, and the repetitive motion of shooting at targets might help with that.
I have emptied two quivers when I finally decide that Mithrandir was right about one matter, at least. There is no way of seeing into the heart of any Elf - no way that I would ever dream of using - and without that, all I can do is trust my judgement.
And what is my judgement?
I loose an arrow and watch it hit the very centre of the target, right alongside the one that went before.
Anybody might betray me.
I loose another arrow.
Not Saeldur.
Three more arrows follow in quick succession.
Not Saeldur. If I cannot trust Saeldur, I cannot trust a single one of my archers. I do not doubt him. I will not doubt him.
I let out a breath, feeling inexplicably relieved.
I gather the arrows and go. I am just walking off the field when Saeldur hails me from the direction of the courtyard.
"Are you going inside?" he asks. "I will come with you."
We walk through the stronghold in comfortable silence. Saeldur waits until we are in my sitting-room to say, "Lord Thorontur summoned me this morning. He wanted to know what I thought of… Calathiel's request."
I wait.
Saeldur glances at me before he goes on, "I told him I would support your decision, whatever it was."
"You did not have to -"
"I did." He goes to the side table where the wine sits, staring down at the jug for a moment before pouring two cups of it. "I would not have sworn to follow you if I did not trust your judgement, Legolas. I will give you my counsel if you ask it - and if you do not," he adds with a wry smile, making me laugh. "But you must know I would never do anything to oppose you in public."
He sniffs at one of the cups, and then takes a careful sip, followed by another.
"I know," I assure him.
Saeldur takes another sip of wine and nods in apparent satisfaction.
"I do not think Lord Thorontur will be pleased if you support her," is what he says.
"I know."
He hands me the other cup. "We have not had extra archery training for years. We might as well give him an excuse to give us some."
I cannot help laughing as I take the cup and drink to that.
THE END