Home (Thranduil fanfic)

Chapter 15

The heavy doors to the throne room were locked, and had been so since the king and his council had withdrawn there in crisis meeting following the attack. This orc mystery turned out to be more like a plague, Asachiel thought, as she stubbornly sat across from the closed doors. The guards out front pretended to ignore her now, but still kept an eye in case she'd try to force her way in again.

She was taking stock of the situation, and being forced to do this on her own. Frustrated, she wondered why young elves, even a talented strategist like herself, were always shunned from the council meetings pertaining to the safety of the kingdom.

But such a vicious attack. Who could do such a thing? How was this connected to the previous orc attacks? Retribution? Vengeance for slaying the orcs? Why this, what could they gain by taking out Thranduil? She shook her head again, letting it hang between her knees. What was not to be gained by taking out the elven king was perhaps a better question.

This felt like a bad dream that might never end. She reminisced on the wonderful feelings she'd had when dancing with him and longed to be together, close to him. But it didn't matter, all that was on hold now.

A sudden realization gripped her. She knew who was behind this! The ramifications were still forming in her head, but it all started to make sense now.

Suddenly, the door cracked open and Anlyth came through, looking pale and drawn. The head of the council moved off and in the blink of an eye, Asachiel bounced past the guards. As she disappeared through the doors, the guards were cursing her as if she were a dwarf.

She moved around the back of the council elves who hadn't noticed her presence yet. She didn't really have a plan, just a burning desire to tell someone what she knew. Asachiel could see Thranduil in the middle of the group. When she doubled back to gain a better position, she could hear shouting from near the entrance. Somebody was objecting to her presence, and loudly.

Everyone's eyes moved over to the commotion. Unable to avoid the spotlight now, she cleared her throat and stepped forward. 'My lords,' she began 'I think I know who is behind this.'

The elves started mumbling objections and frowning. Nervous, but not wanting to lose momentum, she pressed on. 'My heart is hurting at the realisation that there are but two feasible explanations for this nasty attack.' She looked around, holding their gaze. 'Either orcs have breached the borders of the forests unnoticed, scaled the gates, and lighter than the wind have crawled unseen along the length of the inner realm to get to the top of the hall and take aim. This is unlikely.' She shook her head, saddened by the only truly logical explanation.' My lords, as shocking and unthinkable as it is, this was an inside job.'

The group was bristling with apprehension. 'Can I assume you have proof of this?' Mirdan piped up. 'Definitely, but let me ask you something' she turned on him. 'Who is a chief strategist? Who has a high position, and the skill and motivation to do this?' 'High position? Are you blaming one of us?' another council member interjected. 'What is your right to come in here, young brazen neth – girl?'

Asachiel felt anger rising inside her. They were not listening. 'Young? Youth is a good thing my lord. The reason I can whip you in a debate.' She blurted out the words and immediately wished she could grab them back. There was a collective intake of breath as faces turned back to the council member who stared at her incredulously. Then a ruckus broke out.

Competing voices were shouting at her, and as she was bitterly regretting her outburst, Asachiel felt two strong hands on her shoulders. The guards forcibly dragged her out, under the surprised and confused eyes of Anlyth who had just returned.

The doors shut with a dull thud and Thranduil stood up with outstretched hands, aiming to regain calm. 'My lords, enough.' The council members muttered some more, but eventually this died out. 'This young elf's conduct is unheard of, nín âr - my king. This cannot be allowed.' Mirdan asserted. 'And her wild accusations...' That got Thranduil's attention. 'Indeed, which brings us back to the subject at hand. I want to be very clear that I am not discounting this attack stemming from gwerlad - betrayal.' He had been surprised by Asachiel's sudden intrusion. Yet ever so amused as well.

A silence fell. 'My king, are you choosing to ignore our counsel on this matter?' Anlyth asked. 'Why give any credence to this neth - girl? She is a hothead, and an unwelcome intruder. She has no right to be here.' Thranduil frowned and looked impatient. 'Definitely' he said 'but let me ask you something. How do you explain how orcs could fire from that position?'

'Honestly, my king,' Mirdan offered in support to the others, 'such thoughtless accusations from a stupid girl are unwelcome poison...'Thranduil cut him off. 'Rhaich! I do not care what you think' he shot at him. 'I assure you that neth is one of the sharpest elves among our young strategists. Now start your investigation, and take her accusations seriously!' Annoyed, he firmly strode out of the room, his deep orange cloak waving behind him. He felt surprised at himself for standing up for her so publicly. But the wise king knew. He knew his heart would bear no more denying.