Dark Council- *added Epilogue*

Chapter 6


Garand walked slowly toward the chamber he shared with Thranduil, lost in disturbing thought. How could he beat Rymir at his own twisted game? The warrior saw through the devious scheme of the Councilman. He planned to discredit the King, by casting doubts on his ability to protect Mirkwood and its people. The irrigation pipe was only the begin, Ga, Garand had no doubt about that. The helplessness the warrior felt now, frustrated him. There had to be a way to thwart Rymir, there *had* to be, and Garand would not rest until he had found it.

As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with Isil-Gar and Vilmaril, who were, int, lt, looking for him. The two warrior-guards motioned Garand into an empty room off the main hallway, barring the door behind them.

“We have news,” Isil-Gar said softly.

“Why do I get the feeling I do not truly wish to hear this?” Garand replied.

“You are right to feel apprehension, my friend,” Vilmaril injected, “tis not *good* news.”

The two beautiful warriors looked at each other for a moment, before Vilmaril nodded to Isil-Gar, indicating that he should be the one to relate the news to Garand.

“We have just come from an unscheduled meeting of the Council. All hell is breaking loose, as Men would say. A group of our people came to the King early this morning to report several crimes. Homes have been robbed, and two Elves were assaulted in separate incidents, from behind. Neither saw their attacker. One is a young girl; she is still in poor shape.”

Garand clenched his fists in anger. “I will kill him,” he breathed.

“Rymir,” Isil-Gar stated with certainty.

Vilmaril said, “’Tis obvious, what he is up to. It is only a matter of time before he plants the seed of doubt among the Council that the Lord Thranduil is not fit to sit on the throne. Have you any idea why he is doing this, Garand?”

Garand sighed. “I know exactly why he is doing this. He seeks to injure Thranduil as retaliation against me.”

Isil-Gar raised an eyebrow. “Retaliation for *what*?’

“On several occasions, he made advances to me, I r I rejected him less kindly than I probably should have, but he has always made my skin crawl. And the fact that he made those advances almost under the King’s nose, did little to endear him to me.”

Vilmaril shook his head isbelsbelief. “And now, he plans to pay you back in kind by hurting the one you love most. You should have slit his throat the first time he made an indecent proposal, Garand,” he said in disgust. “We woulde hee helped you dispose of the body.”

Garand looked at Vilmaril in surprise. When the second-in-command of the King’s guard smiled in answer to his questioning eyes, Garand laughed out loud. He squeezed the shoulder of each of the guards affectionately.

“You are good friends,” he said gratefully. “Thranduil and I will need all the allies we can get.”

Isil-Gar spoke seriously, “Consider us your first volunteers. We will not leave you to fight this alone. Creatures of Rymir’s arrogance and ego are not as infallible as they think. He will trip himself up, Garand, I assure you of that.”

Garand felt suddenly better. He was aware of the dedication of these two Elves to King Thranduil, and he knew they would die fighting to protect him from any and all threats. He also knew that they were lovers, a fact he’d discovered quite by accident several years ago, when he’d been returning to his and Thranduil’s bedchambers late one night. As he was making his way down the shadowerridrridor, he heard a soft sigh emanate from a dark corner. He stopped suddenly, his keen eyes searching the shadows for the source of that sound. What he saw took him quite by surprise. Isil-Gar, the captain of the King’s guard, and his right hand, Vilmaril, stood locked in a tight embrace, kissing with equal parts passion and tenderness. They had apparently just come off of evening watch, and were unable to wait until they reached the quarters they shared to indulge in their need for each other. Garand smiled to himself, and made his way silently to his room. He’d never told anyone what he’d seen that night, not even Thranduil. It was really no one else’s conceas was was the love he and the King shared.

Garand thanked the two warriors for the information they’d just given him and after making sure the hall outside was clear, they left, one at a time, with the provision that they would stay in close contact, and Garand continued on to his bedchamber.

Upon entering the room, Garand looked for Thranduil, but he was not in the bedchamber. He walked into the adjoining room, Thranduil’s study, and stopped short at the sight of a cloaked and hooded figure that stood silently near the large window behind the King’s desk.

Garand inhaled sharply, and the figure wordlessly turned toward him.

“What are *you* doing here?” Garand demanded.

Long-fingered hands reached up slowly to draw back the hood, revealing hair as bright as the sun, and cornflower-blue eyes that shone with amusement.

“*That* is a fine welcome home,” Legolas laughed. “I return early from my mission hoping to surprise my father and my closest friend, and the first greeting to reach my ears is “what are *you* doing here?”

Garand shook his head in self-reproach, a contrite smile on his beautiful face. “I am sorry, my friend,” he said sincerely. “You caught me off-guard. ’Tis wonderful to see you.” He crossed the room quickly, and hugged his Prince and friend. Legolas returned the embrace warmly.

Several seconds later, Garand drew back to gaze at Legolas. “Every time your father sends you on an errand, you manage to finish it quickly and efficiently. You will make a fine King when the time comes.”

“I do not wish to even think about that moment, Garand. If I had a say in it, my father would live forever.” A fleeting sadness passed over his face, then disappeared. “But I am delighted to be home once more, although ‘tis a rathitteittersweet homecoming. As I journeyed through Mirkwood, I began to hear disturbing stories about recent events here. Are the stories true, Garand?”

His friend replied noncommittally, “What have you heard?”

Legolas frowned. “That, of late, the citizens of Mirkwood have been plagued by vandalism, theft, even assault, and that some members of the Council have been grumbling against my father, implying that he can no longer protect the people of his realm.”

Garand lowered his eyes, defeated. “It has already begun then,” he whispered, unable to look his friend in the eye. “All of it is true, Legolas, and ‘tis I who have brought all this on Thranduil, and on our people.”

The Prince shook his head in confusion. “My friend, what are you saying?”

“I know who is behind this, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I even have a witness to one of the acts of vandalism, but she is a very small child and I will not endanger and and her family by making her identity know. Her testimony would never stand up against the word of a powerful politician, anyway. Gods!” he cried out between clenched teeth, as his hands balled into fists. “If I had given him what he wanted, many years ago, none of this would be happening.”

Realization and loathing washed over the Prince at the same instant, and his beautiful face grew hard.

“Rymir!” he spat out the name.

Garand stared in astonishment. “How could you know?”

“My friend,” Legolas said reasonably, “it is no secret that he has always desired you. He has never made the slightest attempt to conceal it. And this type of cowardly, deceitful tactic is exactly his style. Come; we will speak to adar about what is to be done,” and he strode purposefully to the door. When he realized that Garand was not behind him, he turned, his brows raised in question. “Garand?

The auburn-haired warrior glanced sheepishly at the Prince. “He does not know, Legolas,” he said quietly. “I sought to shield him from it, thought I could solve it without imparting to him the sordid details. He has so much to contend with as it is. I wanted to do this for him, Legolas, and I have made an ugly mess of it all.”

The Prince came quickly to Garand’s side. “This ugliness is not of your doing, Garand. None of it. There is only one who can bear the responsibility for it, and he *will*. What you did, you did out of love. My father will recognize that immediately. He was truly gifted, when you came to him, and no matter where I may travel, I can rest easy knowing that his well-being and his heart are in your safekee.” .”

The warrior smiled at his friend in gratitude.

“Now then,” Legolas continued, “let us go to adar. I have missed him terribly, and we must make our plan of defense. I do not know about you, my friend,” he said, clapping Garand affectionately on the back, “but I do believe I am spoiling for a fight.”