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Feud

www.feud.shadowess.com

By erobey, robey61@yahoo.com

Beta'd by Sarah AK

Disclaimer: The recognised characters and settings used in this fiction were created by JRR Tolkien. The words, other characters, and ideas here surrounding them belong to erobey alone. No infringement is intended or monies earned through this work.

Chapter 61: Govadel o Erebor [The Council of Erebor] Part 2

Great was the struggle within the King's troubled mind to remain calm in the searing blaze of his rising wrath when the third charge was invalidated.

At the same time, reason cautioned and instinct warned that perhaps none of the events of the previous eve were as they appeared upon the surface. As easily as the clean, shallow waters of the garden brook revealed the darting silver slivers of minnows flashing by, Thranduil beheld the improbability of the supposed altercation between the former heir and the captain of the guards. Talagan would never have been subdued so easily by a direct attack.

And it hardly seemed logical that the fallen archer would try to assassinate the infant prince while surrounded by the host of the King's warriors. {But never was reason a motivator for spiteful hate, and the disgraced elf no doubt believes he has much cause to despise me!} Thranduil could imagine this list of grievances. Ningloriel's child was cursed, born in shame that had only increased over the dismal and loveless years of his childhood, uned aed and fatherless, his life marked with the stigma of his mother's infidelity.

{He does not appear to feel this burden now!} Thranduil let his inner eye assess the wild elf as a whole and the feeling of uneasiness returned. This was not the same elf he had cast out of his Kingdom and Thranduil was confounded by the chameleon shift from denigration to distinction, from unassuming archer to dangerous rival for the lordship of the Greenwood. The way the entire community stilled to hear him speak had not gone unremarked by the King. Even Talagan had become caught in the mood. {So clever, refusing to assign blame to my captain! How noble their champion appears!}

And though he was infuriated to admit it to himself, the Sinda Lord had been impressed as well, just as he had been affected upon hearing the recount of the lone warrior's heroic struggle to win through to the stronghold and safeguard his friends against isiblsible odds. Those were acts worthy of respect and, barring the depravity revealed by the Lord of Imladris, Thranduil would be proud to claim such an elf as a war-brother.

{Or a son.}

Yet, what purpose had the outcast to see the prince if not for malicious ends? No benevolent cause could Thranduil conjure for the disgraced elf to enter the nursery of his replacement. The memory of the Tawarwaith's song for the newborn heir nudged against the King's soul. None of it made any sense in his mind, the ideas clashed. {Why would he care about my son other than as a means to exact vengeance upon me?} The noble Tawarwaith blessing the newborn could not also be the bitter remnant of his first wife's hatred bent on revenge.

{It is a ruse; like Sauron in the Second Age, he dons this fair demeanour to hide the assassin's blade from innocent and gullible eyes!}

This was the only conclusion he could accept, for Thranduil knew his Beloved had felt real fear, both for herself and her children, and Meril had spoken words holding the resonance of truth within their syllables; cried tears of salty sorrow for the troubles within her household. And it was this that he could not ignore, for Thranduil had felt the same stab of terror within his own heart. Just as she had imagined a bleak and woe-stricken fate for Taurant and Gwilwileth, so the King could see their dreadful destiny unfolding should the outcast escape the Judgement.

And this he would fain prevent. Thranduil stood again.

"Yet my son's nursery was violated and his well-being threatened by this Hecilo!" he thundered and once more pointed at his cast-off child. "Lindalcon was there and will attest that this is true! I care not for these lesser charges, let us have an answer for that, and then finish with this disgrace among elf-kind! Did Sylvan Law and Custom allow it, I would send this nascent Orc to the Void!"

Legolas flinched to hear this insult and the Wood Elves were shocked into silence as they stared at the outraged father, but Valtamar's son was ready to answer and moved away from Iarwain to stand beside his brother.

"Aye, I was there, and none of that is true! This was no coercion or forced entryr I r I agreed to let Legolas in to meet Taurant. Neither was there any danger, unless you count the reading of books harmful. The prince and heir slept in sweet repose the whole time his brother held him, safe and protected next to his heart!" The younger elf made sure to emphasise the relationship of the former to the current heir, and wrapped his arm around Legolas' waist as the warrior squeezed him back.

The choice of words was not lost on Thranduil and he inhaled and blew back out a slow breath to contain his ire, covering the pair under his frigidly expressionless regard. Despite the firm tone of the youth's speech, the King could practically smell the fear oozing from Lindalcon's pores. {And what might he fear should his testimony fail to please the outcast?} Thranduil's disgust for the fallen elf manifested as an incoherently eloquent grunt of dissatisfaction and nostrils crinkled as if in protest of some detestable stench.

"You speak so out of despair for your father's feä!" the King addressed Lindalcon. "I have already heard from your Naneth how that elf you shield verily holds your Adar within a cloud of confusion, unable to see any clear way beyond the bounds of this world!"

The assembly gasped at the King's statement.

"Nay!" both the younger elves denied together and Thranduil gave a dry chuckle with no mirth in it.

"Indeed? Lindalcon, you need not do this! Only that one's death can free your Adar, do you not see how he has deceived you?" the Sinda Lord's words were filled with soft compassion; a wiser outlook offering the perspective of greater maturity and experience to the too trusting naivety of youth.

The crowd's whisperings hissed with anxious distress.

"In this you speak falsely, Lord!" this pronouncement issued from Fearfaron and everyone's attention bounced to him where he stood glaring, arms crossed before him, calmly assessing his King. "Although your interpretation of the Judgement's conditions is correct!

"My son was freed by the actions of the Tawarwaith, not by his death! This in itself speaks of the invalidity of the Judgement, for were it right then Legolas must relinquish his own feä to satisfy the loss of those wronged.

"Have you all forgotten the strange way his life was twice spared, once on the battle plain and again in the Men's town? And these many years Legolas has been under the shadow of death more times than even a veteran warrior of the First Age! Still, he survives and continues to harass the Wraiths and the Orcs that plague us! How is it he has been salvaged if it is his doom to die for his comrades?"

"Well that is no great mystery!" snarled Thranduil. "It is not difficult for a coward to remain among the living!"

"This elf may be under our severest punishment, but craven he is not!" said Talagan.

The Sinda warrior found that he could not stand by and merely let this slur be put forth. His conscience regaled him over his actions at Erebor, and even if the Judgement was right, he did not believe Legolas would slay an innocent babe with his own hand. And he had seen the elf fight; foolishly fearless more accurately described his battle tactics.

"Aye! I have seen him charge a troop of Orcs with but a dagger!" Hearing their captain speak up, a good number of the warriors reinforced his remark.

"He put his body between his friends and death, more than once."

"He taunted the foul things, lured them away when his comrades were in peril."

"Taunts death, more like!"

"And bears the scars to prove it! No spineless knave would ever be so marred!" called Gladhadithen from her place amid the ranks of the soldiers.

"Indeed," said the Spirit Hunter sadly as his eyes fell upon his adopted son. "Dares fate and begs death, yet lives! It is because the Judgement cannot justly fall on him! Our beliefs are clear; a true kinslayer cannot escape the righteous exercise of Eru's will. Thus has it ever been according to our history!"

"That is so!" acknowledged the Councillor of Record, as though only at this moment had he noted this idea.

A rumble of agitated concurrence from the audience underscored the point.

"We have no proof of your son's fate!" countered Thranduil with empty audacity, his features a most unpleasant mask of livid embarrassment, for even he could hear the hollowness of this claim. The defection of Talagan and the warriors was a serious blow to his authority. The King needed a way to shift support back in his favour, to make these elves see the depravity the outcast inflicted upon them, upon him. Thranduil clenched his fists in frustration for the loss of the letter from Elrond.

"Why would I pretend such?" demanded Fearfaron incredulous, and the people seconded his rejection of the challenge. Like autumn leaves blown by Manwë's breath the rustling scatter of jumbled phrases swirled round in the noisy timbre of avowal.

"Assuredly, the craftsman has no motive to attest his son's Release if it were not done!" added Iarwain.

"Unless the relationship between the outcast and the kind-hearted carpenter is not as platonic asy pry pretend! Perhaps Fearfaron's infatuation has allowed him to be misled regarding Annaldír's salvation!"

"That is an outrageous lie!" hollered the Spirit Hunter, more enraged than he had felt since the night of the Twelfth Year Anniversary. He advanced to the very step of the dais.

"You dare speak such foul thoughts?" Legolas seethed through bared teeth and Lindalcon had to hold him tight to forestall an assault on the King. "He is my father in all ways but blood!"

Thranduil ignored the carpenter and turned his infuriated countenance upon the Tawarwaith.

"Nearness in kinship has not stopped you from bedding others that might be your sire by blood and seed; why should you have scruples for this fabricated link that binds you to Fearfaron?" He spat these hateful words directly to the former heir, his first since the Day of the Judgement.

Legolas released every molecule of air in his lungs and all the colour drained from his face as he stared in open-mouthed horror of this pronouncement, anchored to the spot, eyes locked with the Sinda's triumphantly gloating green gaze. He had thought the King would not present this derogation so soon or in this context and was unprepared to counter it. Fearfaron and the wizards had asserted that the Council could be convinced these indiscretions were a purely personal matter with no bearing on the charges. Legolas had needed toieveieve them.

Five heartbeats later his eyes slid shut and down dropped his head in ignominy. His whispered "I did not know," was heard by none but Lindalcon, whose soul bled to behold his brother so shamed in public.

The son of Valtamar knew no remedy for such a thing and could merely hold onto Legolas tighter, lest they both succumb to the desire to bolt from the room. {It cannot be true, can it?} Relieved that Legolas' face was turned away, Lindalcon could not find a way to look at his friend just yet; for he was uncertain anymore what he would see. The image of the world he accepted shattered once again revealing something wholly unseemly and twisted between the cracks. Lindalcon's eyes jumped to scan the Noldo Lord and found his answer there in the pained and remorseful expression in the elf's features. {True, then.} Lindalcon's gaze turned pleadingly upon the carpenter.

"That is a vile slander!" growled Fearfaron.

"It is the truth!" countered Thranduil smugly and bent his unfeeling eyes upon the distraught foster-father.

The Wood Elves were frozen in breathless anticipation for the details of this illicit union to be divulged, silently regarding the outcast with a foul mixture of hunger and disgust. They all knew who the suspected father was, and the presence of the Noldo elf suddenly became more interesting. If one was here, might not another succeed in infiltrating their forest world, especially with help from the wild archer? A hundred sets of eyes scanned the outcast's body noting now the length and shape of the tapered tips of his delicate ears, the suppleness of strong shoulders in contrast with slender hips and narrow feet, the fair features and his natural grace as he clasped so close to the younger elf.

"Then it is worse for being heartlessly cruel!" Mithrandir's furious umbrage threatened to erupt as he pointed his staff at the King and was only prevented from spilling elven blood when Radagast intervened, pushing aside the sorcerer's weapon with cautious pressure and a compelling frown.

"It is false, though therein may be a speck of truth," the Brown wizard said firmly.

"Aye, and now who speaks without proofs? Your words serve only to deceive!" added Erestor with heated indignation, for he knew the King was hoping to divert notice from Lindalcon's testimony.

Thranduil turned to grin at his unexpected guest, giving a chilling replication of a serpent's cold disdain, then laughed as an eyebrow raised in mocking salute.

"Do you require proof, Lord Erestor?" The question hung unanswered as Thranduil turned to include his subjects in the conversation, addressing the crowd directly. "The kin-slayer dares not deny it for our esteemed visitor shall confirm my words!" the King's out-flung arm directed everyone's eyes to Elrond's advisor.

The seneschal shifted uneasily under the weight of this scrutiny and chanced a glimpse at the fallen prince. A flare of fury ignited through his soul to see Pen-rhovan so discredited and bowed under this opprobrium and he sought to join Lindalcon at Legolas' side.

Aragorn held him firm, shaking his head with a silent warning clear in his wise brown eyes, for he knew they were outlanders and Thranduil would gladly turn their words of support into more fuel for his vindictive vendetta against the wild elf.

The previous night they had convened their own war-council in the room next door to Legolas', planning a strategy for the day's events. A visit from Aiwendil had made plain that both Mithrandir and Fearfaron thought it better for Erestor not to press Legolas for an audience just yet, thus the two had no chance to confer with their friend. The Brown wizard informed them of Legolas' visit to Taurant and its result, and of Lindalcon's news.

Without a means to prevent the King from demanding Erestor's statement, the seneschal had decided that in comparison to other wrongs he had committed lying was rather inconsequential and he would deny everything. Aragorn had cautioned that Legolas was unlikely to do the same, and this contradiction would only make the situation more confused. After hours of circuitous argument and no resolution, the Imladrians had determined the best way to help Legolas would be to refrain from volunteering any information, and to support whatever tactic he undertook.

It was with stinging self-reproach that Erestor realised he had played into the King's plotting and once more wounded Pen-rhovan with his wayward tongue. He feared to speak out again.

"Hah! How deafening is the chorus of rebuttal!" Thranduil stood facing the crowd and spread wide his arms in a gesture enveloping all who would offer defence of the outcast. "Look, good folk, how the Shadow perverts the wise and worthy to Its purpose!" Now his voice lost its fiery fury and took on the august magnanimity of a learned tutor instructing his pupils.

"There is Mithrandir, high among his order, yet enthralled and tied, soul-bound to the outcast! Here stands Fearfaron, an upright citizen, ready to excuse the kinslayer responsible for his child's demise! And look upon Erestor, a noble warrior, veteran of Gondolin, who has left his own lands to come to seek out Hecilo!

"If this is not evidence of the evil at work in our Realm, then what may be? How is that one misbegotten elf suddenly so renowned and deserving of such attentions, especially under the Judgement and exile imposed upon him by our Laws? What exactly has he given in return for such regard?

"Should not these astute and faithful individuals instead be reviled by the very idea of such an elf? Some Dark power invests him with this appeal he holds!

"Who else here would like to be formally counted an associate of this criminal? Please come forward, let everyone be acknowledged!"

Now this speech was dripping with gallingly unctuous tones so that even the most bland of these statements seemed a description of some lascivious act about to be performed in their very midst. Thranduil relished the openly repulsed and furtively fearful expressions covering the faces of most of his people as they cast their eyes upon the group in the centre of the Chamber.
What manner of power could bind a wizard's soul? Have any heard of such a thing? Mithrandir never took much notice of our woods before!

Has the carpenter been deceived, overcome with whatever powers of allure this wayward warrior possesses? Does Annaldír still wander?

He is too attractive, more so even than his mother! It seems unnatural for so many to be drawn to this one elf.

What is this Noldor Lord doing in the Greenwood?

Look how he bows his head in shame; he has bedded the Noldo that bred him! Mayhap he has lain with the others as well!

He has enthralled the young one, too, and holds the souls of the dead at bay! This is of the Dark Lord's doing!

The low murmurs hummed and bubbled like a foul brew of some noxious swill about to over boil, rippling away through the arches, across the courtyard and among the trees. The tide of opinion receded from the accused as rapidly as it had eddied round him just moments ago.

Lindalcon could not believe how fickle was this assembly of elves, for he could easily comprehend that the King was generating this crude diversion to turn their thoughts from the false claims of threatening the prince. None but he had heard the fallen archer's admission and explanation to the ugly defamation of his morals. They could not see the tremors running through Legolas each time a new slur reached his perception. Abruptly Lindalcon moved his hands and covered both his brother's ears to muffle the callous comments, tilting the humiliated elf's face up, forcing Legolas to meet his eyes.

The younger elf's heart suddenly lurched; when had he grown taller than Legolas? It hurt, for some reason, to realise this, as though Legolas was somehow frozen at some earlier point in time while Lindalcon had gone forward and surpassed him.

"Do not hear them! I do not care about Thranduil's sordid innuendo! I do not care if it is true!" he said, sombre brown eyes boring far into the wounded soul behind the bright blue ones, and with firm assurance he shook Legolas a little in his grasp to underscore this fervent declaration. Then he released his brother and encircled Legolas' shoulders anew and faced the people.

"You should not listen to these confused notions that conflict one against the other!" he called out. "This is all meant to distract the Council from nullifying the charge of conspiring to harm Taurant! I will swear that my baby brother was never in any danger from the Tawarwaith! If my word is suspect, then ask my sister for she was there as well and knows not the concept of a lie!"

"Nay!" this appalled cry came simultaneously from both the enraged father and the child's protective oldest brother, and both those elves startled upon realising this inexplicable fact, eyes joining in a fleeting glance of blistering bewilderment.

Aragorn had observed these proceedings as Erestor fairly fought against his hold like an ungentled stallion tethered on a lead. With Lindalcon's courageous words the Man's heart was moved and he no longer wanted to stand apart, an outsider. Thranduil had thrown down a dare and Isildur's heir was eager to take it up. The mortal met Erestor's equally clear-eyed countenance, gave a brief nod, and both moved to stand with Legolas, each placing a hand on his shoulder firmly.

"I am glad to be counted here as a friend of Legolas of the Greenwood," said the human. "Without his safeguard through the forest, I would long ago have perished in battle against the Glamhoth! It is not I who have pledged myself to your Tawarwaith, but the other way round! This eternal protection Legolas gifted to me in return for some small bit of healing I was able to grant him in the wilds, nothing more! Let the malice of the King's insinuations be revealed, for in those harsh slanders can be found the workings of the Shadow!"

"As for me, I owe your champion my life at least three times over!" said Erestor. "Though a stranger with no cause to be within his woods, Legolas protected me from the Wraiths of Dol Guldur and led me and my colleague to safety among the woodsmen's villages. As to our purpose in your lands, I shall speak to it in regards to the first charge in due time.

"Beyond that, I am here to set to right a grievous hurt I have caused, if by any means I may!" the seneschal from Imladris asserted, compressing the Tawarwaith's arm warmly as he spoke. "If there is Darkness in the Greenwood, then Legolas is Its bane not Its source! Could the Light of the Silmarils be reborn in living flesh, his would be the form of that incarnation!"

These words brought Legolas' head up quickly to gape for the second time that morn at the speaker; this time stunned by such high praise and he searched the face of the Noldo Lord for any indication of dissembling or exaggeration. He found only the gentle roguish grin of Berenaur, dampened by the tearful gleam of the sorrow and remorse his dark eyes sought to convey. Legolas let a tenuous smile hover round his soul.

"Pretty words for your precious paramour!" scoffed the King and enjoyed the scarlet flush that suffused the outcast's face.

"Let them speak! You invited the testimony of those who would call themselves Tirno's associates; therefore, allow everyone so inclined to state their minds!" snapped Iarwain irritably.

"So noted!" added the Councillor of Record with a complacent smile.

"Well said!" agreed Aiwendil. "I am Legolas' friend and have been since he began his assault upon Dol Guldur. Of all the eldar I have met, this one I most admire, and that includes those sundered from you long ago that dwell in the Farthest West! My regard has naught to do with how he looks, what name he bears, or who he beds! Legolas has earned my respect and won my friendship because he cares to make right the marring of his world."

The elves shared their buzzing wonder. How could the might and knowledge of the Istari be beguiled? Should they not trust the judgement of all these diverse people that bore goodwill for their champion? Had not good come of Tirno's works rather than ill? How could he be an agent of the Dark One while so fearlessly warring against the cohorts and creations of evil?

"Like Fearfaron and Lindalcon, I am more than a friend to the Tawarwaith," Mithrandir added, moving up to take his place next to the carpenter. "We are his family, and by the bonds of such a relationship do we conduct ourselves; aiding and supporting one another as needed, trusting and depending upon the constancy of this 'fabricated link' forged by necessity, fired in the heat of battle, and tempered by the icy grip of despair. And thus united, it is ill-advised to oppose us!

"And let me be very blunt, Thranduil!" Gandalf concluded in coldly clipped words edged in restrained resentment. "I am not bound to Legolas' soul, nor he to mine! I have aided his survival and I will neither apologise nor explain myself to you! Perhaps we could get back to the actual charges now, if this smoke has been cleared out!"

"Indeed!" Iarwain jumped in as Thranduil opened his mouth to retort. "The day we decide an elf's guilt based on mistaken choices in bed partners, then we shall all have sentences to fulfil!"

This blatant reference to the King's own erroneous first selection for a mate was not missed by the forest folk, and a scatter of smirky guffaws escaped containment as Thranduil sealed his lips into a thin dark line.

"So noted!" sang the Record Maker, not even trying to hide his widening smile of amusement at the Sinda's expense.

"Enough of this!" Thranduil shouted and turned to glare at Legolas anew. The Council was behaving as if the whole purpose of this meeting was a joke, and he would not permit it. "You were in my son's room and you did tell Meril that all of her children would suffer unless I halted the investigation of Erebor! Do you still deny it?"

Instantly the lighter mood fled and silence filled in around the diminishing echoes of the King's ringing challenge.

"I was there, but never to do Taurant harm! And one may warn of danger without being the source of it!" Legolas responded clearly and calmly, determined to convince the King, or at least the Council.

"It was a threat not a warning! Taurant's birth makes it impossible for you to regain your former place, even if you escape the death promised by your Judgement! Admit your guilt as you owned your faults at Erebor! You went to end his life and you used his brother and sister to gain the opportunity! But for Meril's sudden appearance you would have achieved your goal!" Thranduil strode to the edge of the dais looking down on the outcast, scarcely able to contain his desire to attack the one that dared attempt so fiendish a plot.

"It is a lie! Never would I hurt him, nothing could make me bring even the slightest disharmony into the lives of my siblings!" Legolas tried unsuccessfully to shake free of his friends' tightening hold on his arms and shoulders.

"They are not your siblings!"

"They are! I claim them; I love them! You are the one pushing them towards heartache and misery! I tell you now I will not allow it!"

"You dare such a low subterfuge, accusing a father of wishing to hurt his own? By Eru, the dungeons shall have use before this day is through!" The King was shaking from his rage and indeed his restraint was noteworthy for truly he believed his children had been a hair's breadth from their doom at the hands of his first wife's child.

Legolas shuddered at this pronouncement, for the anger Thranduil displayed left no doubt as to the likelihood of that outcome, and was very grateful for the strength of his friends' supportive presence around him.

"Nay! Nay, you must not do that!" shouted Lindalcon, desperately seeking the eyes of the Councillors. "I tell you I was there and no greater gentleness could be shown that babe unless it was Naneth herself holding him!"

"Tell us exactly what transpired, Lindalcon; how did all this come about?" said one of the other Councillors quietly.

"You cannot listen to his testimony! He practically worships the fallen prince and would say anything to defend him!" yelled Thranduil in fury.

"Lindalcon is neither stupid nor a child nor known for a liar! Thusfar you have not accused him of wishing harm to Taurant! Therefore I do not believe he would knowingly welcome a murderer into the infant's nursery!" countered the Elder.

"Aye, not knowingly!" Thranduil repeated. "Yet I say again, he is blinded by his esteem for the outcast!"

"What is that you say?" asked Mithrandir, puzzled.

"What?" demanded the King, irritated.

"I thought you just announced that Lindalcon offers this testimony out of fear, forced to back the outcast because his father's feä is at stake! Yet now you say he reveres the Tawarwaith. I wish to understand how both these scenarios may be possible!" the wizard said testily.

Thranduil coldly assessed the wily Istar, furious to have fallen into a trap of his own making once more. Already the buzzing displeasure of the peoples' agreement hinted it would be difficult to repair the damage attending this disclosure.

"I think Mithrandir's question is wise," said Iarwain, nodding as he regarded the Maia with thoughtful eyes. "It is clear to me that the second statement is correct; Lindalcon does hold the Tawarwaith in high regard, mayhap even love!"

"Aye, he is my brother!" declared the youth and smiled to say so.

"Oh, truly? Well that is a coupling I would not have guessed!" sneered Thranduil cruelly.

"Ai! Do not dare speak of her whom you drove from our lands!" Legolas shouted.

"My father's honour you cannot impugn! He was true to my Naneth and died in sacrifice to his comrades!" Lindalcon shrieked in fury and now both the elves had to be restrained by Radagast and the Imladrians.

"Too much of these scurrilous outbursts have we been forced to attend!" thundered Mithrandir. "Two questions are before the Council now: is it possible for a convicted kinslayer to hinder the souls of the dead, and would Lindalcon lie to protect his sworn brother? Surely there has been enough said to decide on these issues!"

"I concur!" said Iarwain.

"So noted!" the Councillor of Record formalised the closing of testimony and the six Elders drew together to quietly confer. There seemed to be some amount of dissension among them, but which question roused the discourse none could tell.

With a huge sigh the Sinda Lord paced away to the end of the platform and back before practically throwing his body down upon the chair in his agitated displeasure. He could sense the Elders wished to dismiss the second charge and was over come with incredulous fury. {How can my people choose that kinslayer instead of their unblemished prince and heir?}

"We are decided!" announced Iarwain and everyone strained to see and hear the verdict. Thranduil rose and advanced again to the rim of the step and Legolas' friends clustered closely around him.

"We do not believe any elf can hold an unhoused feä bound unless that soul in life owed some debt to such an individual. Now, Valtamar was not under any obligation of honour to the Tawarwaith at the time of his demise, thus it is not possible for his spirit to be hindered!"

A hushed wave of relief passed through the people; for among them matters dealing with unhoused spirits were fraught with fear and much superstition. Over the Ages, great was the accumulation of the Sylvans' feär still loose upon Arda. Some believed as Thranduil, that such spirits could be caught and forced to dark purposes. Indeed, some thought the spark of life found in Orcs was stolen from such houseless souls.

"Further, we find no reason to name Lindalcon a liar! Why would he choose to support his sworn brother against the best interests of his blood-kin? His actions may be termed ill-advised, yet such is the impetuous nature of youth! We find no cause to disallow his testimony of the events!"

"So noted!" intoned the Elder of the Records as the Sylvan folk relaxed into pleased murmuring of approval. To them also Lindalcon's words had held the note of honesty.

The small group of elves, the Man and the wizards in the centre of the room offered joyful congratulatory hugs and nudges and shoulder squeezes to the Tawarwaith as he and Lindalcon embraced. Those two pulled back to make eye contact and Legolas leaned his forehead upon his young friend's.

"I thank you and I swear your father will be Released if any action of mine can do it!" Legolas said quietly, yet no elven ears would miss the words.

"This I know!" answered Lindalcon. "Yet it is not your Task to accomplish! Ada would have the real cause of his sacrifice understood!"

"If I may continue?" interrupted the eldest Elder, and both younger elves sheepishly fell silent.

"Inasmuch as Lindalcon is the only witness to the events within the nursery, the Council finds that Tirno is not at fault! Admittedly his actions were unwise, for he should have sought the permission of the mother before entering, yet we find the sharing of picture books benign! Thus, the second charge is null and no censure do we pronounce!"

Again the Sylvan elves ratified the Council's decision with a resonating refrain of glad expression, all eyes smiling to see the ecstatic relief shared between the small group ringing their Tawarwaith.

Passed from friend to friend for more well-wishing, Legolas even allowed a brief hug from Erestor before settling in the comfortable encirclement of Fearfaron's arms, just happy to lean his head upon the strong shoulders of the tall, willowy Spirit Hunter.

And for the second time that day Thranduil tasted the bitter bile of his people's betrayal and felt the terrifying sensation of his power disintegrating as rain evaporating from sun warmed stone.

Tbc
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