Idly, I swirled the wine in my glass. After far too long, one of the kitchen staff had finally left, an hour long report of the kitchen stores coming to a close--but not without a complaint on the warriors taking "inexcusable advantage of the stores." I promised that I would speak to Legolas on it. Next to me, Galion barely suppressed a snort at the improbability of that.
There was only one appeal remaining for the day. A lord had brought a report from one of the colonies a short ways from the stronghold, to the north. All seemed well, our warriors keeping the darkness from the South from creeping past their defense. Good news was sparse of late, but cherished. Placing my wine glass on a side table, I stood, thanking the lord. "If you are ever in need, the home guard is at your call."
"Hannon-le, aran-nin." The lord placed a fist across his chest and bent at the waist. Just as he exited the room, a commotion sounded in the corridor. My eyebrow quirked upwards as Galion and I exchanged a look. There were few who dared cause this type of ruckus.
The offender finally appeared and, unsurprisingly, I recognized him immediately. My son never had managed to stay still for very long, and he could evade trouble for less time. Looking closer, I glimpsed a look in his eyes that rarely shone so clearly: terror. "Legolas? What is the meaning of this?"
Seemingly ignorant to my inquiry, Legolas's voice carried through the cavernous room. "Everyone out—now!" When only looks of confusion turned on him, he reiterated, "Go!"
The few present servers—aside from Galion—and the councilors quickly moved to obey, Legolas's mere presence carrying as much authority as his words. My personal guards, however, looked at me questioningly, unsure of how to react. I tipped my chin in agreement. "Do as he says."
Moments later, the doors slammed shut, and Legolas slid the large wooden plank into place. Almost as a deer searching for the hunter, his eyes darted back and forth over the expanse. "Explain yourself, Legolas."
"Arthion has been poisoned," Legolas said as he finished shoving the bar in place. I had stood, coming around the large desk, meeting Legolas at the end of it.
"Galion, did they bring it?" Legolas's eyes turned on my seneschal, a cold fire burning in them.
"Poisoned?" I interjected, "When—how?" The archery master had never been a particular friend of mine, as I did not have a natural affinty for the bow, but many a night I had spent listening to Legolas expound on his lessons with him.
For the second time, Legolas brushed by my voice. "Did they bring it?"
"What, pray tell?" Galion said. Exasperation laced his voice, but affection as well. He had been almost as prominent in Legolas's life as myself, perhaps even more—ai, the curse of a king.
"The wine you requested—I asked the kitchen to bring it up. Did they?" His eyes, piercing the air like lightning, turned to me. "Did you drink any?"
Galion moved nearer to my side. "Yes, they brought it, and yes, I gave it to him."
A string of curses escaped under my son's breath. Suddenly, a looming threat crept into the air. Poison, wine, and cursing never did bode well together, and in this instance there was only one conclusion that Legolas's actions could lead to. Ai, Elbereth...
Galion voiced my feeling. "Legolas. Was there poison in the wine glass?"
Frustration revealed itself in the hard set of Legolas's jaw. He ran his fingers through his hair, his shoulders seeming to shake. "I believe it is what led to the near death of Arthion. How much did you drink, Adar? Do you feel well?"
I waved his concern away. "Hardly any, don't worry yourself." It was not entirely a lie. There were some days that I drank up to three glasses and no one could tell the difference. The few sips now could not possibly be counted as much.
The past weeks sudden onslaught of treason was worrying, as never before had Eryn Galen been in such a state; it was something I had prided myself in. But first the shadows had come, next the spiders. Hope had faded like a wilting flower until the peace of the realm was held only by a façade of what we wished it could be. Everyone knew our fight against the spiders was war, and always had been. That reality was simply denied under pretense that we but only had to drive them back from time to time.
Time to time, however, had become day by day.
I didn't realize that was Legolas speaking to me until I felt his hand upon my arm. When had my vision begun to darken? The dark spots dancing before my eyes had not been present seconds ago. His lips were moving, but it took several seconds for sound to crescendo to full volume; even then there was a muffled quality to it.
"—dar, can you hear me? Galion, help me—"
"No, no, I'm fine." I shrugged Legolas's hand off my shoulder. "I told you not to worry didn't I?"
"Staring into the middle distance, unhearing of your own son hardly constitutes 'fine.' If you would like to make it to the healing ward conscious, I would suggest you go now." Galion's tone left no room for argument and I would have acquiesced. Unfortunately, my legs chose that precise moment to collapse underneath me, and the dark fringe to my vision pounced with sudden ferociousness, sealing a black oblivion to my consciousness.
Few words slithered into my dark dwelling. "Call the healers! The king has been poisoned!"
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Awareness came slowly and then in an instant.
I lurched, but could not move past that small amount. The rainbow tint of light that filtered under my eyelids made my mind swim. Groaning, I burrowed my face into my pillow, clenching my hand around the sheets. I paused, brow furrowing. How did I arrive here? I distinctly remembered being in the council chamber and then... Ah, yes. Legolas and that Eru forsaken cup of wine. The realization had not yet passed from my thought process when a voice pierced the veil between the path of dreams and wakefulness. "Thranduil?"
That voice. I knew it, did I not? Crawling to the edge of coherency, I opened my eyes and turned onto my back. "Yes?"
"Finally. You surely took your time." His voice faded slowly, focused on a distance not near me. "Legolas, at long last your father has decided to join us."
"Such wit, Galion," I answered slowly. My tongue was heavy, sluggishly articulating my words. Again I found myself questioning what events had led to this point. I felt as if I had been in a drinking contest with half of Greenwood.
Despite my body's protests, I pushed myself to sit up. A pair of hands assisted me—I would have pushed them away had I been able to focus on more than one task at a time--and I found myself leaning against the headboard. I breathed deeply, allowing my balance to adjust. When the world came back in focus, I found Galion looking on amused and Legolas looking quite the opposite. If they eyes are supposed to be a window to the soul, then Legolas's eyes were an open door. Something akin to concern swirled in them, mixing with an anger that would not be appeased by any action of mine.
"You said your hardly drank any."
"Perhaps I recalled wrong."
Glaring, Legolas shook his head, frustration evident. "You almost died. It's been hours, and all the healers could tell me was that they were 'doing their best' but you were fading quickly. There was nightshade in your wine as well as half the kitchen's stores of wine. Do you have any idea what that could have meant?"
"Legolas—"
"No!" Legolas's fist slammed down upon my side table. "This is idiotic! Someone wants you dead, and apparently nothing is out of the question. They almost killed Arthion; they don't care who else has to die. You have to treat this threat seriously. Stop acting as if you're invincible. The actions of today have clearly demonstrated otherwise."
I threw back the blankets that still rested over my legs, and stood, ignoring how the world threatened to spin before me. Legolas had grown to be a tall ellon, but I still stood taller. Holding my son's gaze steadily, I spoke, low and quiet. "And what would you have me do? Hide behind our walls and force our people to fight our battles for us?"
"You're risking yourself unnecessarily!" Legolas's voice resounded in the open space. "Why? What does it do besides putting yourself in unnecessary danger?"
My fist clenched. "Cowards die a thousand times before their death: I would die but once." My words held more of a chill than I had intended; nonetheless, I held to my statement. It was a concept my father had instilled in me while I was young, and one I had chosen to hold to.
"And what then? You'll die for your pride and that's it?"
Clasping my hands behind me, I cocked my head, a smirk reaching my lips. "I'm not dead yet, am I? To be a king brings danger and sacrifice. That danger is always present, it is only just now rearing its head."
"What can we do? Coward or not, this situation is more serious than we originally thought."
"Perhaps it is, and I agree we must do something."
This seemed to catch Legolas off guard as his head snapped up. "Truly?"
"Yes," I said, sitting back down. "I did say they're rearing their head. We'll cut off the head of the snake."
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At day's end, all was still quiet, yet I could feel the shadows in the air, so heavy were they. Galion had brought several letters and reports to my room, as the healers insisted on me staying to recover. The reports were at least something productive to focus on. Most unusual among them was a letter from Imladris. Not particularly interesting was the contents within, but instead the lack thereof caught my eye. Correspondence between Imladris and Eryn Galen was not entirely common, but neither was it rare. What communication we did hold was only the vital type, what each of us must know concerning the other realm's state. They were eloquent, formal updates.
This note, was not. It was quick and to the point, speaking of little aside from general news that was of near no consequence: weather, stores, general wellness. An array of smudges were upon the ink, uncharacteristic of Elrond. Perhaps there was more trouble brewing in Rivendell then he let on.
Legolas had told me that a new courier had brought the message, an elleth this time. The novice couriers were such a joy to deal with, squirming agitatedly if a breath was drawn anywhere in the near vicinity. Perhaps her lips would be loose as well and I could draw some concealed knowledge from her.
Despite any qualms Legolas and I had with each other's methods, pride still swelled inside me at his courage and tact. He recognized a threat when he saw it, refusing to simply let it lie; he knew: to allow a beast to stalk its prey doesn't not mean it won't pounce upon it. Unfortunately, the relationship of father and son must at times be laid down in favor of King and Captain. Legolas may wish that I called more of a guard to myself, but the kingdom needs protection more, and warriors need rest. Legolas was an accomplished fighter, and I trusted him to fend for himself, perhaps with the assistance of Forvwn. If his young mind could be open to the same idea concerning the area of my well-being, perhaps some tension could be lifted from his worried shoulders. Elbereth Githoniel, I prayed so.
Whatever this path entails, I would be sure to keep my eye on Legolas, lest death not only be meant for the King.
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