Chapter 21

Turi read the official letter from the palace out loud, a grin on her face. Her voice clear and animated, she told her team that king Thranduil and the entire council congratulated internal surveys on the investigation's 'conclusion'.

She made the quote sign to the Dirs who were reading over her shoulders, equally grinning. The scroll also praised the deductive efforts of her team and the overall approach with which the case had been handled.

This praise was like a splash of cool water to Turi, soothing the burning shame she'd felt since the Areurion mishap. To be honest, she still harboured some lingering doubt about how 'concluded' the case actually was.

At first there also had been some remaining fears among the community of elves. But since Amarthelion's death, things had been quite. The realm sure seemed to have returned to safety and peace now.

In any case, it was good for Turi to be out of trouble and disfavour. Turi braced for what the letter further announced.

Following the palace's reconstruction, Thranduil was to hold a dance in celebration of three things: first, Laer – summer (this meant drinking wine); second, the rebuilding of the palace (with its wine supplies replenished); and finally, honouring the internal surveys and border patrol teams (implying said teams drinking lots of wine).

Both Bam and Bra turned to her, flashing eager smiles. Turi grinned back and nodded. Yes, they should definitely go and let their hair down. The C.A.T. seemed to be permanently finished. The powers that be were happy with the conclusion of the case. Why not have a little fun, right?

Bra hit her with his light brown eyes, throwing her a wink and a smile. He was kind, supportive, and respectful. Suddenly shy, Turi returned his smile.

Both the Dirs had proven to be a real asset during this investigation – she was proud that this was her team and that they had bonded in the way they did. She'd become especially close to Bra, perhaps. He was easy on the eyes too, with his light brown hair and rough good looks. Not that she'd noticed any of this.

Still, Turi's heart was loyal and unwavering. She longed but for one elf, though he didn't seem in too much of a hurry to make anything happen between them. She sighed.

Thranduil had successfully weathered another storm, now returning to high levels of popularity once more. The formerly critical voices from the council had gone mute.

Maybe the ball was to consolidate his status as well, Turi mused. In any case, she preferred that reason to the possible nightmarish scenario of this ball being mounted to make an announcement of marriage, as promised by the lady Reinilian.

Indeed, this invitation had come via courier rather than by way of a personal visit from Thranduil himself, like last time. Turi carefully placed the scroll on her desk and sat back in her chair. Maybe things really had changed, in spite of their fiery kiss in the throne room's library.

Turi shook her head, trying to clear those fears from her mind. Those passionate moments seemed so once upon a time now, and it sure was before the lady feather bottom chose to shown up. Things had been different after that.

Apparently Reinilian was still at court, and Turi had no doubt that she'd be throwing around her good graces at this ball. She just hoped that nothing worse would happen.

A shiver ran down Turi's spine, in spite of the warm weather they'd been having. Who was she anyway? And why was she here? Were did she come from, and why didn't she just labo vi Orodruin – go jump in Mount Doom.

Turi was aware that the thoughts flooding her mind were based on nothing but jealousy and fear.

But no, it couldn't be so. Thranduil was strong of mind, and she refused to believe the rumours that had been circulating. He would never blindly fall for such a mean and calculating elf, even if she was pretty in a ditzy kind of way.

Turi closed her eyes, remembering how Thranduil had pulled her to him. She savoured those moments. The way he locked her in his strong arms, and their lips had met, full of longing and passion. The feel of his brocaded robes against her skin. Thranduil's piercing blue eyes had locked with hers, and they'd kissed again. And again.

Those memories took her breath away. If she tried hard, she could still feel the pressure of his lips on hers, and she wasn't ready to relinquish that without a fight.

She took a sharp breath in. That's it. She decided right there and then that they were going to have a talk. She was going to lay it all on the line, for love.

Turi bounced out of her chair, a steady flow of adrenaline entering her bloodstream.

After a quick stopover at her place, the new and improved Turi was ready to fight for her heart's desire. She'd donned her fave baby blue dress and a necklace with a pendant that was a present from her mother. Turi guiltily bit her lip as she fingered the curved shape of a crescent moon, the midday light bouncing of its facets. She should really go visit her mum more often.

With her heart pounding, Turi made her way up to the palace. At least none of the guards dared to stop her now. Everyone knew the head of internal surveys, and her presence at the palace was a given.

But Turi didn't feel that self-assured at all. After nervously skulking through the hallways, she ended up in an empty throne room. Loosing momentum now, she decided to sit down for a minute at one of the tables off the sides.

Looking at a stack of books that lay on top of the desk, Turi again remembered their sudden explosion of affection. They'd kissed, so strongly and sweetly. And then they'd read books about the elves and the realm's past together. It had felt wonderful, working side by side.

Would he feel the same about her now? What had that kiss really meant? Maybe he didn't care for her after all. They'd had this mutual attraction for a while now, but still nothing had come of it. Surely that wasn't all due to a lack of time or opportunity on his side?

She sat staring blindly at the books, nerves screaming, as all of her self-doubt and frightened thoughts came up to haunt her at once. There was only one way this could turn out, and it wasn't good!

Just as she wanted to follow her rabbit heart and flee the room, one book caught her attention. It was lying open off the side of the table, and someone had underlined a passage in it. Maybe Thranduil had found what he was looking for?

The book was called The Sundering of Teleri – the cover told her as much. Apparently three groups of elves made up the Telerin, being the Falmari, the Nandor and the Sindar. She knew that much from Taryan.

The underlined passage read that the Laiquendi were elves of Ossiriand, also known as the land of the seven streams, and these elves were known as green elves. Ok, thought Turi.

On the other hand, the Sindar were those who remained in Beleriand. Let's see, blah blah, these elves among others, formed the Sylvan elves from Greenwood. Ha. Now why was that important?

Wait, she knew who was a green elf. The lady Reiniliorch – Reiniliorc stemmed from the seven streams, or so Thranduil had said himself. This link to Telerin elves was what united her group with the woodland or Sylvan elves from Greenwood.

She took a breath, then slowly let it out. Was this what he had been looking up? Was he sussing out his new bride perhaps, Turi thought distraught. Her anxiety rising, she fingered through some of the other books that lay spread out on the table.

Turi noticed a book called Ancestors and Descendants. The corner of one page had been neatly folded over. As Turi scan read the names of the Nandor Laiquendi she recognized one... Reinilian. With a shock, Turi realized her rival was royal, of sorts.

She almost dropped the book as a stark realization swept over her. Thranduil was checking up on Reinilian. The only logical reason for this came to the front of her mind, unstoppable like a bucking elk being pursued by hunters.

She was fighting the storm inside of her, her eyes filling with tears. Turi walked blindly out of the throne room and joined the pedestrian traffic in the hallways, making her way out of the palace as quickly as possible.

Somewhere in the background, beyond the noise of upbeat voices and shuffling feet, she thought she could detect Thranduil's voice, followed by a salvo of hiccupping, high-pitched laughs.

Turi suddenly longed for Bra's shoulder to have a good cry on.