Disclaimer: Not one Elf.

Author's Note: This is the last chapter of this story. But I do have another one-shot ready to post soon – something light and silly that should be a relief from all this angst. And hopefully more to come after that.

Thanks to DancingChestnut, cheekybeak, Melethril, GreenGreatDragon, emi, Raisinet, L.A.H.H, Issy, wtraveler304, candycanesrox101, ellisk and sindarelleth for the reviews!

Part VI: Answers

Saeldur could scarcely believe that it was happening, that it was real. His hands – his knives –

And the blood.

There was blood on his hands. Blood on his tunic. Legolas' blood. His friend's blood on his tunic and on his hands and on his knives.

Elbereth.

How could he not have noticed? He'd had no reason to believe anything had been done to his knives, of course. Why would anybody suspect such a thing? Sparring knives were stored in a different part of the armoury; nobody wanted to risk sending the warriors into battle with blunt blades. Sparring knives were on different shelves, and they looked nothing like normal battle knives. The white of a sparring knife bore a single broad green band for identification. Nobody could mistake one for anything else.

All the same, Saeldur knew he should have noticed. How long had he been a warrior? The glint of the blade itself should have told him –

Legolas might die. Because of him. Because Saeldur had been careless.

"Can I see him?" he asked.

Celebwen's answer was gentle but firm. "Not yet, Saeldur. It will be some time." He felt her hand on his shoulder. "In the meantime, you will feel much better if you get a clean tunic and wash the blood off your hands."

Legolas' blood.

With a shudder, Saeldur got to his feet and left the room.

It was not to his own room he went, though. It was to the green.

As soon as he reached it, he saw Arahael with Míron. They were standing off to one side, away from the music and the dancing, speaking.

Something made Arahael look up just then.

He saw Saeldur. Saeldur knew he must make a fearful sight, standing there with reddened hands and rust-coloured stains drying on his tunic.

Arahael smiled.

Saeldur knew – in that moment, he knew. He had not wanted to believe it, had not wanted to believe that any warrior could be so far removed from honour as to cravenly attempt to kill Legolas through stealth, but he read the truth in Arahael's eyes.

Arahael hurried up to him, pulling him away from the feast into the shadows of the trees.

"It is well not to let anybody see you like this. What happened?"

"You know what happened," Saeldur hissed. "Legolas – my sparring knives – you know."

"So there was an accident during training. It was foolish of Feredir to let Legolas spar when he was injured. Exceedingly foolish. Still, it is in the past."

"There was no accident. Somebody sharpened my sparring knives –"

"A tragic mistake by the armourers –"

"And poisoned the blades."

Arahael looked at Saeldur. "You should be careful of saying such things where people can hear you."

"Why should I fear to speak the truth? There was venom on my knives, and if ever I learn who put it there –"

"Perhaps you should speak to Rochendilwen," Arahael murmured. "She is normally responsible for the archers' weapons, is she not? And Elf-slaying runs in her blood. Her brother killed the Queen. She might have wanted to finish what he left undone. It is little loss to us that half-breeds should kill each other."

Something in Saeldur snapped. He seized Arahael's tunic, pushing him back against the nearest tree and holding him there.

"You are not just a traitor, Arahael, you are a cowardly traitor. You did not dare attack Legolas honourably to his face – even injured, he would be more than a match for you. I would have killed you for that alone, but that is not all. You used me to do this – you made me do harm to my friend and betray my oaths as a warrior."

"Do harm to your friend?" Arahael pounced on the choice of words. "So the accident was not fatal. Or, at any rate, not fatal yet. There is time. Perhaps it will be." Arahael smiled. "We can hope. After all, if Legolas dies, the King is certain to sail to the West. And that leaves you –"

"Finish that sentence and I will kill you where you stand."

"Do not be dramatic, Saeldur –"

Saeldur cut him off with a hard shake. He felt a moment's regret that he had no weapons with him, but he needed no weapons. He could strangle Arahael with his bare hands. It was no more than he deserved –

Saeldur felt himself being pulled away. He struggled, but the grip on his arm was unyielding.

"Saeldur!" Aeroniel snapped. He knew she had been drinking earlier in the evening, he had seen her with the cup, but just then she seemed completely sober. "What happened?"

"Saeldur," Arahael said lightly, "tends to act before he thinks."

Saeldur growled low in his throat and moved towards Arahael again. Aeroniel held him back.

Arahael stepped away. "You will see things more clearly in time, Saeldur. Come to me when that is so."

Saeldur would have gone after him, but Aeroniel's hands on him were unrelenting.

"You cannot murder the King's warriors," she told him. "Not even Arahael. What has happened, Saeldur? You look like you are returning from a battlefield. And where is…" Aeroniel's eyes were wide with sudden realization as she trailed off. "Elbereth. Something has happened to Legolas."

Ten minutes later, Saeldur's hands were clean and he had a fresh tunic as, with Aeroniel and Rochendilwen, he returned to the royal quarters.

Eredhion and Voronwë were there, along with the King, Lord Arbellason and Lord Thorontur. Thranduil had clearly been persuaded to wash up and change as well.

Thorontur shook his head before Saeldur could ask anything. "There has been no change."

Saeldur sank into a chair.

"It was Arahael," he said numbly.

"Did he confess?" came the sharp question from Arbellason.

"No – not in as many words. But from what he said to me, I know."

Arbellason sighed. "I have no doubt that he did it, but we have no proof – not unless Ranmagor comes forward to tell the truth of what Arahael was doing in the armoury, and that is unlikely. He would be implicating himself as well – and implicating himself in a cold-blooded attack on the King's son."

"I will not allow this to go unpunished!" Thranduil snapped.

"I do not like the idea either, Thranduil, but what choice do we have? Unless someone saw Arahael take Saeldur's knives, or Ranmagor admits the truth, we have no proof. There will be those on the Council who will say Saeldur did it himself, and his innocence may be even harder to establish to the Council's satisfaction than Arahael's guilt. If we take this to the Council at all, we will have to be prepared for months of argument and no resolution. And do you think Míron will make it easy? He will have Legolas before the Council again, and it will be worse this time."

Saeldur felt immeasurably grateful that Arbellason had not added If Legolas lives.

Elbereth.

If Legolas did not survive, Saeldur would slit Arahael's throat, no matter what consequences he had to suffer for it afterwards.

"Do not even think of such a thing," Thorontur said, as though reading Saeldur's mind. "There will be enough trouble as it is."

The bedroom door opened. They all looked up hopefully, but Feredir shook his head.

"We are doing our best." He held something out, something slender and gleaming. It took Saeldur a moment to identify his sparring knives. "You can have these… We know what we need from them."

Rochendilwen took the knives, which was fortunate, because Saeldur could not have moved.

"Saeldur?" she asked gently when the door closed behind Feredir again. "What do you want me to do with them?"

Saeldur shook his head. "Take them to the smithy and melt them down. I… I could never bear to use them again."

"Thranduil," Thorontur said as Rochendilwen laid the knives on a table out of sight, "we must make an announcement. If not to everyone, at least tell the Council something. Soon people will notice that none of us is on the green. Questions will be asked."

"What can we tell them?"

"Say there was an accident during training," Arbellason suggested. "That is all they need to know for the moment. Those who should know more can be told later." He got to his feet. "Thorontur and I will speak to the Councillors now. You four…" His glance took in Aeroniel, Rochendilwen, Eredhion and Voronwë. "Speak to the warriors. Say no more than is absolutely necessary."

Left alone with Thranduil, Saeldur found that he could barely meet the Elven-king's eyes.

"Saeldur," Thranduil said gently, "I do not blame you. Nor will Legolas."

"You should." Saeldur knew he sounded bitter, but he could not help it. "I blame myself."

"Saeldur."

"I should have noticed the blades had been sharpened! It was dark, but there was enough light for that. Elbereth! I should never have given Arahael reason to think I…" He broke off, unable to speak further.

The shadows moved as Thranduil came to stand in front of him, and a light hand was laid on his bowed head.

"I should not have distracted you while you were sparring," Thranduil said quietly. "And Legolas should not have let Míron's lies upset him enough that he found it necessary to spar while injured. We will all have regrets from this, Saeldur, but so long as Legolas survives, those regrets need not be crippling."

"You did not spill the blood of your brother-in-arms, my king. I have broken my oaths more times than I can count these past weeks."

"Only you can know whether you have broken your oaths, Saeldur. And if you have, it is no business of mine unless your commanding officer decides to bring it to my attention. But no matter what has happened in the past, it is in your power to keep your oaths now."

Saeldur nodded.

Some time later – Saeldur was not certain how long – there was a soft, almost timid, knock on the door.

He and Thranduil exchanged a glance. One of the others returning would not have bothered to knock at such a time.

Saeldur went to the door, pausing on the way to pick up one of Legolas' knives. With another glance at Thranduil, who nodded, he opened the door.

His mother stood outside.

"Naneth." Saeldur stepped back to let her enter. "What are you doing here?"

"Thorontur told me Legolas had been hurt while sparring… He would say no more. I wanted to see how he was."

Thranduil pulled out a chair for her. "The healers are with him."

"What happened?"

Feeling as though his emotions would choke him, Saeldur looked pleadingly at Thranduil. The Elven-king looked back and forth between him and his mother for a moment, a small frown creasing his brow.

Then he sighed.

"You might as well know the truth, Celephindeth. I do not want to force Saeldur to lie to you. But – I must be able to trust you – what I am about to tell you cannot be mentioned outside this room. Not even in Council."

Celephindeth let out a breath. "It was not an accident, then. I feared as much… Thorontur and Arbellason seemed far too worried."

"We believe – we are certain, although we have no proof of it – that it was caused by Arahael, almost definitely with Míron's collusion."

"What did he do?"

"My knives," Saeldur said, and he would deny for the rest of his immortal life that he sobbed the word. "He sharpened my practice knives and poisoned the blades." He looked at his mother. "We… we were sparring and…"

He could not continue.

A moment later her arms were around him.

"He might be dying," Saeldur choked. "By my hand."

"Hush." Her voice was soft. "You must have faith." He felt her look up, and her next words were addressed to the Elven-king. "Thranduil, if there is anything I can do…"

After all that had happened that day, Saeldur expected Thranduil to reply sharply. But all the King said was, "If you can help Thorontur and Arbellason keep the Councillors from asking too many questions, I would be grateful."

"Of course." She got to her feet and went to the door. In the doorway she hesitated and turned to the Elven-king again. "I never intended this, Thranduil. I know you all believe I was needlessly harsh to Legolas – and perhaps I was – but I never intended any actual harm to come to him. Not like this. I… I would speak to him, when he is awake, if he is willing to see me."

She slipped out.

Not long after she had gone, Feredir came out of the bedroom again. He was weary, but smiling, and the sight of it made Saeldur's heart lift.

"He is awake," Feredir said. "And before you ask, yes, you may go in and see him, so long as you do not tire him out."

"Is he…"

"He will be well, my king."

Normally Saeldur would have given Thranduil and Legolas a moment alone before he went in, but he needed to see for himself that Legolas was alive and unhurt. He followed the Elven-king into the room, and the sight of his friend sitting up in his bed smiling at them was enough to make him sob in relief.

He walked straight past Feredir and Celebwen and flung his arms around Legolas, carefully, smiling when the hug was returned.

He pulled away after a moment. "Legolas, I – I am so sorry. I had no idea – but – I should have seen, I should have noticed. I cannot –"

"Saeldur." Legolas' voice was gentle. "I know. Feredir told me what happened. It was not your fault."

"I told you he would not blame you, Saeldur." Thranduil cupped Legolas' chin and pressed a kiss to his brow. "I must leave you now, Elfling – Thorontur and Arbellason will be sick with worry, as will your friends. They will not forgive me if I wait a moment more than I must to relieve their anxiety. I will return as soon as I can."

Saeldur saw through the transparent excuse, and he was grateful to the King for allowing him some time with his friend.

Feredir and Celebwen followed Thranduil out.

"It was Arahael," Saeldur said, when they had been left alone. "He took my knives. I had no idea, Legolas, I swear to you. I would never hurt you, not willingly. And now I have broken my oaths again."

"Saeldur."

"I am sworn to obey you. To defend you."

"I wish I knew what to tell you." Legolas looked worried, and more than a little unhappy. "I can hardly speak to you as I do to the younger archers when they grow weary."

"I am not a novice and I am not weary. I am… Ai Elbereth. I do not know. I… I do not know what to do,Legolas. I thought I knew myself, and I find now that I knew nothing. What manner of warrior am I when I have broken my oaths to the King and my oaths to you? How am I even to face the archers now?"

"You have never lacked courage, Saeldur."

"Courage will not help me if I have forfeited the trust of my commander."

"If a few difficult weeks were enough for your commander to lose trust in you, he would not be worthy of his position. I made mistakes as well, Saeldur. I let Míron upset me. I should have known better. And I should never have let myself be distracted when we were sparring. I am not a novice any more than you are."

"You made errors, if you call them that, of carelessness. You did not break faith."

"You have my faith, Saeldur. I trust you as much now as I did on the day you swore your oaths as my second."

Saeldur gave Legolas a grateful smile, but he could not let himself relax. "We can prove nothing against Arahael. He may try again."

"I will be on my guard."

Saeldur bit his lip, thinking. Legolas was a skilled warrior, and, even with his other duties, he spent far more time training than Arahael did. He did not doubt his friend's ability to handle any threat that came in the form of a frontal attack. But if he had learnt one thing, it was that Arahael could not be relied upon to act with honour, and Legolas was not suspicious by nature.

Making up his mind, Saeldur looked at his friend and commander. "Do you trust me, Legolas?"

"You know I do."

"Promise me you will, no matter what you hear. You know I will die before I willingly do you any harm."

"Saeldur, what –"

"Please."

Legolas shrugged. "If it will make you happy, you have my word. I trust you, and I will always trust you."

Saeldur nodded. Then, with a pat to Legolas' shoulder, he got to his feet. "Your father will return soon. I… I will see you in the morning. Try to rest."

As Saeldur left, he met Thranduil in the corridor. They exchanged a smile of relief. Then the Elven-king slipped past him into his son's room, and Saeldur knew he would sit with Legolas until his duties called him away in the morning.

Saeldur wished he could rest as well – he was weary – but there was something else he had to do first.

Steeling himself for what could only be an unpleasant conversation, he went in search of Arahael.

THE END

No, really. This is the end. And it isn't a cliffhanger, because Practise to Deceive gives a pretty good idea of what comes next.

That said – this is the end of this story, but not necessarily of this arc. I don't imagine that anything involving immortal beings can be neatly wrapped up in a few weeks, and Míron definitely shouldn't be considered out of the game yet. ;-) But I really need a break from writing angst, so the next fic up will be… Well. You'll see.

Please review!