Daughter of Arnor - Servant of Fate

Chapter Twenty Nine: Childhood's End

"Tripped? Elves do not trip!" - Thorwen

27th March/Gwaeron, 3017, The Elven Halls Guest Quarters.

Flanked by several palace guards, Thranduil and Legolas made their way to the guest quarters. This was not a journey Thranduil was relishing. They arrived swiftly, and he paused for a moment before giving the door a firm knock. Celephinniel opened it. Her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks left him in no doubt of the seriousness of the situation. Thranduil ordered the guards to remain outside. While he and Legolas entered.

The main chamber was much smaller than the royal apartments but no less sumptuous with its assorted wall hangings, rugs and Elven furniture. Celephinniel then informed them of what had happened.

"Young Rodon seemed in good spirits when we returned to his chamber. I was about to remove the arrow when he began to convulse and foam at the mouth. Then he was gone....... There was not even time to find an antidote!" She burst into tears again. Thranduil comforted his cousin and then asked Legolas to remain with her while he paid his respects.

Thranduil recognised the symptoms of the poison to be the same as the Temple priest he had interrogated years ago. If, as Bregwen suspected, the archer was one of the Silvan Brotherhood, their link to the Temple of Morgoth was now confirmed. Calenamath's last report was long overdue, and he was beginning to fear the worst. Especially after the day's events.

Rodon's bedchamber was one of the simpler cave rooms. There were no windows or wall hangings, but it was no less comfortable for its simplicity. The cave was bathed in the glow of the candle stands which stood on either side of the single bed. Rodon's bare-chested body was lying on top. The light from the candles giving him the appearance of life. Only the greenish tinge of the wound on his shoulder betrayed the truth.

Aragorn sat in a chair beside the bed. He did not look up to acknowledge Thranduil, but remained firmly fixed on the bloody arrow in his gloved hands. "This, Silvan Brotherhood. You spoke of, are they in league with the temple?"

"It would appear so, Lord Aragorn."

"Elves never miss. My squire was the target. No doubt to cause ill will between us after the betrothal."

"My thoughts exactly. I offer you my most humble apologies for what has happened. Rest assured, we will find those responsible and bring them to justice!"

"It has Sauron's claws all over it. Divide and conquer are his favourite devices." Aragorn stood up and faced Thranduil. His eyes were ablaze with grief and anger. He snarled as he broke the arrow in two and cast it on the ground. "I shall remain until justice is served! I owe it to Rodon, at least."

Thranduil nodded. "You are welcome to remain as long as you wish. Calenamath and I have been working in secret to discover the identities of the traitors. Thorwen and I decided to go ahead with our betrothal in the hopes that it would draw out our enemies."

"Well, you have succeeded in that, at least! At the cost of this young man! He deserved better than this!" Aragorn dropped back down on the chair and stared at Rodon's lifeless face. "If it were not for the perils along the way, I would have insisted Anberenien be returned to her father. How did she take the news?"

His words did not surprise Thranduil. He would have felt the same way if it had happened to a member of his own kinfolk. "Not well! Thorwen wanted to come here with me, but I managed to convince her to wait a little longer. I have stepped up security in the Royal apartments. I can arrange for you to lodge in one of our spare chambers......"

"Thank you, but I will remain with Rodon until his burial."

Gandalf entered the room. "I heard the news and thought I would pay my respects." He looked at Rodon's lifeless body. "Poor lad, he did not deserve such an end."