As always, I own nothing but the characters the professor would not touch with a ten-foot pole. LOTR belongs exclusively to the estate of J.R.R Tolkien, New Line Cinema and anyone else who I might not be aware of having staked a legal claim. This story is written only for my own pleasure and hopefully for any who choose to read it.

Thank you to Meckinock for her patience and skill in beta reading. She’s a trooper. And for her diligence in trying to teach me the difference between breathe and breath. Eru knows she’s tried….

Thanks to daw the minstrel…just for good measure. She’s darn good with that Chicago Manual of Style. And her Mirkwood has brought me many hours of reading pleasure. Yes, I’ve been influenced….

And thanks to Nilmandra for allowing me to post here and for her kind support.

                                                     Chapter One: Daeron

“If I get any hotter,” I complained, “there will be nothing left of me but a muddy puddle.” I watched as Legolas drew a dipper of lukewarm water from the bucket seated on a stand at the side of the training field. Without bothering to take a drink, he poured it over the back of his neck. His hair and clothing were already so wet from sweat that he looked no different when he finished dousing himself, and certainly, he appeared no cooler. He handed the dipper to me. I took a long and unsatisfying drink of the stale water and then drenched myself by pouring the remainder straight over my head. I gained little relief.

“Everything hurts,” Legolas moaned as he sank slowly to the ground in the shade. He stretched his legs out and leaned back to prop himself on his hands. I dropped down beside him, wiped the spill of water from my eyes, and watched as more novices began to move in our direction. All of them looked as devoid of enthusiasm as we felt.

But there was one novice who caught my wary eye. Belas was in the oldest group and was without a doubt, the biggest nuisance I had ever known. He was not only arrogant, he was a menace to anyone who did not do things the way he thought they should. And he was not shy about telling anyone what a failure they were and what a complete disgrace they were to each and every warrior who had come before them. He tended to target younger novices as I think the ones of his age were on to him and paid him no more mind than an annoying fly. In the past, I had seen him reduce younger novices nearly to tears as he ripped them apart. The thing that amazed me was that the masters seemed to ignore him and if they had ever reprimanded him, I did not know about it.

Legolas flopped onto his back and stared up at the leaves above us. “I forgot to get a drink while I was up.” He turned his head toward me and gave me a lopsided grin. “Get me one, will you?”

I let out a disagreeable chortle. “You will have to get it yourself. I am not moving until forced.”

He raised his head enough to see the water bucket and when he saw our friend, Belas, was at the bucket, he sighed and lay back down. “I will wait.”

“Just think,” I said in a horribly-feigned, cheerful tone, “we will get to spend the next ten days out in the forest with Belas, the bellower.”

“Shoot me now,” Legolas groaned. “I would rather go by your hand than by his constant criticism.”

“And what would he criticize you for?” I asked. “That you are better with your weapons than he is?”

“For breathing, I suspect, is enough.”

With a firm pat to Legolas’ midsection, I said, “Do not worry, little cousin, I will protect you from the big bad warg’s rump.”

Legolas laughed out loud. “And who will protect you?”

“Just back me up when I give him a new orifice or two,” I said. Legolas chuckled and closed his eyes.

We lapsed into silence, and I took that time to look around the fields in hopes that the masters had succumbed to the heat and left, but they were still there, waiting out our paltry little break. As I scanned the area, I also saw our older brothers beneath a beech tree at the edge of the path. Seregon, my older brother and the king’s second in command, was leaning against the tree with his arms casually folded as he watched the fields. Aldamir, the king’s heir and chief commander, stood at his side with one foot propped on the short split rail fence that separated the training fields from the path. I begrudged them both their shade and their positions of not being novices. “What are the two hawks doing here?” I asked, nodding in their direction.

“Wagering on which of us drops dead first,” Legolas said without even bothering to look.

“You would think they would feel sorry for us,” I complained. “We are their brothers, after all.”

“They feel no pity for us,” Legolas said. “As a matter of fact, I think they find our suffering amusing. Perhaps they dropped by for one last laugh before the masters take us away to never be seen again.”

“They will have to suffer us one more day before we leave for the Endurance Games,” I said. Glancing back at Legolas, I said, “I do not suppose there is any way out of this upcoming torture, is there?”

Legolas whipped his head toward me. “You do not want to go?”

I blew out a tired chest full of air and leaned back on my hands. “It is not that I do not want to go. I do. But it is so hot and the thought of spending ten days with Belas destroys my enthusiasm.”

“He will not bother us,” Legolas told me. “He will most likely choose one of the youngest of our group to pick apart.”

I smiled. “That would be you,” I reminded him. I was one of the oldest of our group and Legolas, one of the youngest. Of course, this only made me a whole eight months older than Legolas. Even though I frequently reminded him that I was his elder, he never seemed properly impressed.

Legolas smiled. “He will not bother me.”

“Is that so?” I said, raising my eyebrows. “What makes you immune to his rants? Is it because you are the king’s son?”

“No,” Legolas said, sitting up, “it is because he knows I can shoot rings around him, and he will not challenge anyone who can best him. He will accost those who are less confident to start with.”

“Of course, if you show any weakness….”

“He will not miss it,” Legolas finished for me.

“Belas being along will only make this whole exercise more unpleasant,” I moaned. “Is it not bad enough that Melda chooses the most dreadful weather he can find to conduct the games? This is the hottest summer anyone can remember, and since many of the Elves making this statement are older than dirt, that extends a long time into the past. Add to that that this is our first time to go on the games, and we do not know what exactly to expect. All we have been told is that this is the most difficult training we have yet to face.”  I screwed a sour smile on my lips. “Even Seregon said he reconsidered the wisdom of wanting to go after his first time. I do not want to be left hanging upside down in a tree if I make too big a mess of things. I fear my brother will leave me there.”

Legolas laughed. “Your naneth will make him come for you. Besides, if we are to make fools of ourselves, then at least we will humiliate ourselves together.”

Melda gave a low whistle that signaled the end of our rest period. All the novices dragged themselves back to the fields were we would be punished further for having the audacity to live. I did not think I had ever seen a more ragged looking group of future warriors. No one had been left unscathed by the oppressive heat or by the masters’ devious plans to torment us. All we had done for the two weeks prior was strength training and at that point, this was all we were doing still. When this was over, I thought I would surely be able to toss boulders with one hand--if I still lived.

When the masters dismissed us, I went straightway to my chambers, ripping off my sodden garments the moment I passed through my door. They dropped like boggy hay onto the floor.

 I was underwater in my bath when I heard something dully clamoring around in my bath chambers. As I broke the surface, I saw my naneth placing a clean drying cloth on the chair.  “How much longer do you plan to stay in that bath, child?”  Since she was smiling, I knew she was not angry, or at least she was not so annoyed that she had lost all semblance of congeniality.

“Until I come of age,” I said dryly. “Perhaps the masters will forget about me.”

She laughed. “I hardly think that will happen. As it is, you need to hurry. The feast will begin soon, and we will need to be in the family sitting room in a few minutes to go with the family. Your uncle will not want to keep the visitors from the outlying villages waiting.”

I yawned. “Very well.  I am hungry.”

“Then do not tarry,” she said and went out.

This feast was being held in welcome for the village leaders, and those who were traveling with them. They had come to meet with my uncle, Thranduil, more commonly known as the king. I supposed the meeting was over problems they were facing, but I was not certain of their purpose. Being uninformed was no surprise for me. As a general rule, I was not consulted about such things. Still, something was apparently going on in the forest to our west. I had heard rumors about the giant spiders that inhabit portions of our forest increasing in numbers and moving further north of the elf-path. My cousin, Erelas, the king and queen’s second son, had been traveling with his patrol through those areas for some weeks now. I knew he was sending regular dispatches, but I, of course, had no way of knowing what they contained. Legolas and I were the last Elves in all of Mirkwood to know what was going on most of the time. What little we did know was absolutely forbidden for us to mention, discuss or even act as if we had any idea about if someone asked us. To tell the truth, not being privy to realm business was easier, though this mattered little as no one usually bothered to ask us anyway. However, if spiders were involved, then I most definitely wanted to know. Wherever there was a spider, regardless of its size, I would do my best to be somewhere else. I could barely stand to think about them, much less pursue them. I admired Erelas for his bravery--or stupidity-- I am not certain how I truly saw this. At any rate, I wanted to know exactly where the spiders were so I could be on the opposite side of the forest. Seregon repeatedly told me that I would have to get over this aversion to eight-legged beasts since when I became a warrior I would undoubtedly run into them. I had already decided to request to be posted to areas of the realm where there are none. Perhaps I could guard the wine in the cellar.

As tired as I was, I was pleased when we got to the feast. The food looked and smelled wonderful, the minstrels were already playing softly, and the welcome speech by Uncle was short and sweet. Once we were released from the royal family duties of standing still while Thranduil spoke—duties which I have come by due to living in the palace and being the son of the queen’s brother—I trailed after my cousins to the tables. Unfortunately, I was also required to wear formal robes and a circlet just like my cousins and my older brother. I would have much preferred to wear something more comfortable and less hot, but the night air had cooled enough to where if I did not move around too much, I would not drip into my plate.

I was still eating in earnest when Legolas nudged me and nodded his head toward where Aldamir was talking to an elleth I had never seen before—a very beautiful maiden, I might add. She was tall, but delicately shaped like a finely blown glass vase. Her hair was dark and nearly to her waist with the only curve being at the ends where they turned under slightly. A few wisps of hair had escaped the braid that held her hair back from the crown of her head to frame her face. I could not see her eyes, but they were trained solely on Aldamir. “Oh…,” I said around a mouthful of venison. “I do not know her, but I would like to.”

Legolas smiled. “I think she is the daughter of one of the village leaders. I do not know her name, but I know she is quite beautiful. Wonder why she is talking to Aldamir?”

“Perhaps she likes him,” I said, putting another bite of roasted meat into my mouth. I chewed slowly and watched the way the firelight lit her hair with a shine so generous it looked as if it had been polished by hand to a full, rich sheen. As she moved, her deep blue gown swayed and flickered with airiness. She did not appear too bothered by the unusual warmth of the night. And I was enjoying watching her.

Legolas looked startled for a moment, and then a slow smile played across his lips. “Indeed,” he said. “Perhaps he likes her, too. My brother looks as if a band of orcs could sit down next to him, and he would not take notice.” Obviously pondering this situation, Legolas nodded toward a group of elleths we have known all our lives. “I think I will see what I can find out about her. Míriel knows everything that is going on.” He cast a sly glance my way. “Why do you not come with me? Isilya is with her.”

I looked up. “Yes, she is,” I said dryly. But my heart did skip a beat. I did not know exactly why Isilya made me all flustered and jittery, but I did not seem to be able to breathe right when she was near. Isilya and Míriel have been friends for as long as I can remember. However, Míriel, also known as Fluffy, had been the bane of our existence for as long as I can remember as well. She has improved with age to where she no longer teases us unmercifully, but she is still not someone I would wish to spend any time in her company. I suppose I can carry a grudge. She made our lives miserable. Now that she is older, she is merely the source of information for anything to do with someone’s love life, and since I did not have one to report to the entire realm, she paid me little mind. I found her lack of interest in me to be an agreeable arrangement.

I have always thought that Isilya found Míriel to a bit tiresome herself. Over the previous few years, Isilya had ceased to keep company with Míriel as much as she did when were younger. I cannot say I blame her. But there has always been something about Isilya that intrigues me. I did not know if it was nothing more than mild curiosity as to how she could stand Míriel, or if it was the slight impishness about her smile that made me feel she could be one of us. At any rate, she made me nervous. And I could not tear my eyes away from her.

“Why do you not go talk to her?” Legolas suggested.

“Why?” I snapped my attention back to my plate and slathered jam on a thick slice of crusty bread before I crammed it into my mouth.

Legolas smiled. “No reason. I merely thought you might like to talk to her.”

I chewed slowly while mulling this over. After taking as long as possible to grind up the little piece of bread, I finally washed it down with a drink of wine. I sat quietly for a moment longer, letting him stew while waiting for my reply. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I did indeed find Isilya fascinating. “I will wait on you to return with the life history of the mysterious maiden.”

“Uh, huh…” Legolas laughed as he stood. He placed his hand over his heart in a mock formal salute and bowed to me. “I shall return after I have completed my mission, my lord.” With that, he turned smartly on his heels and stalked off toward the group of elleths.

“You may regret stirring up Míriel,” I said aloud to myself and took another swig of wine. Trying to look as disinterested as possible, I watch him walk over to where the elleths stood in a tight little circle. They parted and allowed him to join before they gathered again with Legolas in the center. Isilya smiled as she welcomed him. My heart sunk. I have to admit I was slightly jealous that she was smiling at him instead of me. My heart lurched again as I thought that she might like him. I mean, like him in a way that I would not like. The elleths seemed to like Legolas a great deal and for that, I would eternally be annoyed by him. I threw the rest of my slice of bread down on my plate and crossed my arms. Perhaps I had made a mistake after all in not going with Legolas.

He was not gone for more than a quarter of an hour when my stouthearted scout returned, flushed and smiling. I hoped his blushing was due to suffering such close contact with Míriel and not because he was enjoying Isilya’s company. He quickly pulled out his chair and sat down. “Her name is Elenna, and her father is Sordien, the leader of the northernmost village. Her mother is a healer and could not accompany them because her older sister is expecting a child soon. So Elenna came as her representative. She is a tutor for the elflings of their village and often aids her adar with the trees in the forest. She is very skilled with growing things. The rumor is that she was or is involved with an Elf in her village, but her parents do not approve of him.” He lifted his eyebrows in a very Thranduil-like manner. “Míriel suspects that this trip may be an attempt to distance her further from the undesirable Elf.”

“Why is he undesirable?” I asked.

Legolas gave me a look that told me I had asked an irrelevant question or one for which that he did not know the answer. “Apparently her parents have deemed him as such.”

I swatted my hand through the air. “Speculation. Pure speculation.”

“Perhaps we should tell Aldamir,” Legolas said.

“About what?” I asked. “He is a grown Elf. He would not appreciate us interfering in his personal affairs.” I shrugged. “Besides, he might not care one way or the other.”

Legolas glanced back to his oldest brother and the maiden. “He looks quite interested.” Then he sighed. “But you could be right,” he said. That would be a first, I thought with amusement. “Perhaps, he is merely being polite.”

We watched, completely captivated by the scene of Aldamir taking the hand of the beautiful-beyond-measure maiden’s hand as he led her into the dance circle. However, by all appearances, we were no more captivated by her beauty than Aldamir.

“Why do you not tell Seregon?” Legolas said finally. “If he thinks Aldamir should know, he will tell him.”

I drew back slightly and snorted. “You must be mad! And have Seregon lecture me on minding my own business?” I shook my head. “I do not think so.” I would not touch that with the longest limb in the forest. My cousin would have to take his own care where maidens were concerned. Besides, I was not one to be giving advice on elleths. I had never even kissed one, much less entertained the idea that I knew anything about what went on in their heads. For pity’s sake, I did not even understand my own naneth.

Legolas let out a long sigh and settled back in his chair as we watched his brother and the mysterious maiden smile at one another as they danced. I poured more wine into my cup and sighed as Seregon blew past, stopping only long enough to fill the remainder of my cup with water. When Legolas laughed, my brother poured water into Legolas’ cup as well. I laughed aloud then too. With only a raised eyebrow of warning, Seregon disappeared into the crowd. “We need to get rid of him,” I mumbled to Legolas.

Legolas stood, clapping me soundly on my shoulder. “Come. Let us find a place where we are not under his watchful eye.” He brightened. “Perhaps, if we can find Seregon a maiden, then he will pay us no more mind than Aldamir.”

I snorted as I pushed my plate away and stood. “There are no maidens who would have him.”

If possible, I believe the next morning was hotter than the day before. When we reached the training fields that morning, the sun bore her brutal eye down upon us with the practiced skill of one who would never allow anything to escape her intense gaze. The trees were quiet and lethargic in the heat with no breeze to stir the air over their silent leaves. The river, as it wound its way through the widened banks and exposed rocks, was low and sang a softer song than normal. I could not help but feel the dread of knowing what a long miserable day it would be with the masters punishing us with the physical routine I knew they had planned. That was not to mention that we all seemed on edge in anticipation of the games as we continued to push ourselves to lift heavier weighted sacks and to repeatedly pull the unbearably heavy sacks set on pulleys. Then the masters would make us run…and run…and run.

As we neared the training fields, Legolas chuckled out loud. “I was thinking…”

“Excellent!” I said. “That is often a good way to pass the time.”

He threw a cold glance in my direction that would have frozen a robin in mid-flight. “As I was saying, I thought that Aldamir looked rather smug this morning. He must have enjoyed himself last night.”

I nodded. “Indeed. While he looked like the frog that caught the fattest fly, Seregon had the appearance of an Elf who had not been to bed. Seems to me, this arrangement should have been the other way around. Aldamir should have been dancing all night while Seregon slept soundly all tucked in bed.”

Legolas laughed. “Seregon must have taken the night rounds last night. Aldamir’s turn was last night. I heard him mention it yesterday at morning meal.”

I swiped my hand through the air. “I do not know why they just did not forget about the rounds last night. Nothing is going to happen. Aldamir only does rounds as a courtesy to the guards after feasts anyway. The guards can handle the increase in Elves roaming about.”

Legolas nodded. “I do not doubt the guards either, but I think he likes for them to know that he is paying attention to their needs, and that he is watching them.”

I could not contain the laugh that caught me square in the chest. “And just who was watching the commander last night?” Legolas joined me in my fit of glee. Seeing Aldamir--our always-in-control commander and kinsman--acting like an ellon suffering his first pangs of infatuation was simply too good to pass up. And we were enjoying every moment of this rare occurrence.

Our fun at Aldamir’s expense was short lived. By mid-day we were all tired and soaked with sweat. Orocarni added a little excitement to our physical training by having us run while shooting at targets with feathers sticking out from the top. Our job was to knock the feathers from as many of the targets as possible.  To make this exercise more interesting, fellow novices crouched behind plank walls with the targets mounted on sticks that they moved erratically in all conceivable directions as we ran, one by one, full speed from the starting line to a blind made of hay where we had to roll over the hay and crouch behind it. The point, of course, was for those us who were the runners to hit the feathers and not the novices darting about behind the walls. I am pleased to say that all the target-novices survived--by a hair's breadth. A few shots did dip at the wrong time, and the wall came in handy. And I am sorry to say, for the most part, the feathers were safe from our arrows.

Alar, the youngest of our group and the smallest by far, was one of the worst offenders in pinning his arrows to the wall. I heard more than one mumbled curse when his arrows struck the wood that separated the target-novice from a sudden impalement. By the end of our run, I was starting to feel sorry for Alar. He was really a very nice person. And he tried quite diligently to do as he had been instructed. However his size was not to his favor. That did not even address his aim. He made Legolas and me look absolutely proficient in a little escapade of our youth when in a fit of anger, we shot practice arrows at Míriel and Isilya. I try not to think about the look on Uncle’s face when we were hauled into his office for our consequences of being dumber than a rotting log. I suppose this episode did give me some sympathy for poor Alar. I knew how he felt when his arrow seemed to have a mind of its own.

Belas, however, seemingly had never made an error in his life. Unfortunately, he was one of the novices dodging Alar’s wayward bolts. When he emerged from behind the wall, his face was as red as a smashed cherry. His fury was not lost on anyone. Orocarni, our archery master, immediately sent Belas on an errand to the master’s hut to retrieve a different type of arrow. I supposed the master was attempting to forestall bloodshed among his charges. When Belas returned, he was not quite as irritated as he had been, but it was plain to see that Alar was a marked Elf.

“Alar is in for trouble with Belas,” I whispered to Legolas.

Legolas looked up from where he was filling his quiver and studied the haughty older Elf who was sizing up Alar as if he were a scrawny buck that would not make a meal. Until the last few weeks we had rarely been in a training sessions with the older novices. We were trained in our own age groups. But we had now officially joined the ranks of older novices, and we would be together more often. This, of course, included the games. “Belas will not let this rest. He is spoiling for someone fresh to torment,” Legolas said as he went back to placing the longer range arrows in his quiver. “Poor Alar; he is trying.”

I squatted down beside Legolas. “What do you think will happen to Alar? I cannot see him as a warrior at this point. But he insists that this is what he wants to do.”

Legolas shook his head. “I do not know. I suppose he will grow more, and then perhaps he will become more capable with his weapons. He is really not so bad with blades, and his archery skills are improving.”

“But he is terrible in hand-to-hand combat,” I pointed out. “He is so small that even some of the younger novices could pick him up and toss him like a pebble.”

Legolas smiled. “Naneth says that we grow faster in warm weather. Let us hope that this hot weather will make him grow like a weed.”

I looked over to see Alar standing off to the side…alone. My heart really did go out to him. “I fear that Belas will try to pluck him and in the process, he will really hurt him.”

Legolas stood. “The masters will not allow Belas to harm him.”

I stood too. “When they know about it they will not allow him to be unkind. But you know how Belas is. He will do his damage when there is not a master around.”

Legolas shouldered his bow. “Then I suppose we will have to watch out for Alar. We will just have to do this without causing problems.”

I blew out a gush of air between my lips. “I knew you were going to say that.”

Legolas chuckled as we started toward where we were to gather to begin our next run. “You do not fool me, Daeron; you are itching to say something to Belas.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “I admit that I would like to cut him down to size, but I am not itching to be on the receiving end of Melda’s displeasure.”

“Then we will keep anything said away from the masters’ hearing.”

I turned to him and put a look of surprise on my face. “You mean that is possible?”

Legolas laughed as he clapped me on the back. “There is always hope, my cousin. There is always hope.”

At that time, Orocarni motioned us all to take our place for running while shooting at stationary targets. We practiced this drill often, and it had not gotten any easier. The targets were placed at varying distances, and we were to run, shooting at each of the five targets as we ran. I felt I made a respectable showing, but when in any archery competition with Legolas, I felt as inadequate as a maiden with a wart on my nose. Not that I have ever seen a maiden with a wart on her nose, but I have heard some interesting conversations between Seregon and Aldamir after their trips to Dale or Esgaroth. Apparently human females vary considerably.

As we ran the drill over and over, I watched Alar. He did not perform poorly at all in this run. Of course, everyone could only look better after shooting at erratically moving feathers. But this time, Alar did as well as anyone else, except Legolas, of course. My cousin put his bolt in the center nearly every time. Belas caught my eye again. I was not pleased to see him intentionally bump into Alar when Alar completed his run and returned to the line. Belas was subtle about it, but I know he could have avoided Alar. Belas’s friend, Moralendi chuckled. Belas’s clumsiness was no accident. Alar simply asked for forgiveness and took his place in line. I think that irritated me even more. Alar had nothing to apologize for. I had no doubt; the games were going to be a long ten days.

At the end of our last run, Melda appeared and motioned us all to take a seat on the grassy knoll of the archery field. I quickly found Legolas and settled down beside him. My stomach was tied in knots. The games had become to me something like eating a food that one found disagreeable, but you knew it was good for you, and you had to eat it anyway. At that point, when I glanced at Legolas, he looked flushed and in deep concentration. I suppose he was trying to get himself ready too. As a matter of fact, I did not think the older novices looked any more confident that the younger ones who had never participated in the games. This realization did little to comfort me.

Once we were all quiet as a barrow at midnight, Melda strode to the front and looked us over. “I am certain that you are anxious to get underway on the games tomorrow. A few rules need to be remembered. You will comport yourselves as warriors at all times. You will obey the orders of the masters without question, and you will follow the orders of the chosen daily captain. These ten days will be an intense time, but there are none among you who will not do well if you follow orders, remain alert, and learn from you triumphs and mistakes. We are all here to support one another and to learn from one another. We are a team. We work together. We all win together, and we all lose together. At the end of each day we will meet to evaluate your performances and to discuss where we need improvement. Our goal is for you to come away from this exercise with more confidence, a better understanding of your own strengths and weaknesses, and an understanding of what warriors encounter in the field. Some of you have already participated in these trials, and for the younger ones, you will be good guides. Do not be afraid to ask questions or to discuss your concerns about your performance. By following these simple rules, everyone will find the games rewarding. Now,” he said, “we will depart at sun rise. Pack lightly; take only what you would require for a ten-day patrol. Be certain you have your healing kit, your weapons in good repair, and your personal items.” He smiled. “We will see you in the morning. Dismissed.”

All was settled. For ten days, we would be stuck out in the forest with Belas, the bellower and a group of demanding masters who could also get quite loud when aroused. I looked over at Legolas and smiled. Whether we were prepared or not, we were only hours away from our first taste of the Endurance Games. And whether Belas knew it or not, he was only a short time away from meeting two younger novices he could not intimidate. This thought almost made the difficulty of the games seem worthwhile.

                                                    Chapter Two: Aldamir

With an air of casual routine, Seregon entered my office and placed his hand over his heart in salute. I have never needed to worry about Seregon’s informal manners when we are alone, for he always displays proper respect when we are in view of those we command. When alone, our ranks separate us only in name. And I am often glad when the door is closed, and we can simply be cousins with a job to do. He has always been attuned to my moods and to the affairs of the realm; he easily discerns when our meetings will be formal and when they will not. He knows me well. As I do him, I thought with pleasure. On this day, he looked happy and in anticipation of enjoying whatever he had up his sleeve. He was aching to bring something up with me, and I was certain that I knew what this was. I waved him to take a seat.

He sat down and smiled at me in the way he does when a mischievous mood is upon him. “I see you have the schedule for the games,” he said as he pointed to the parchment newly arrived from Melda.

I returned his smile. “Yes. As always, Melda has everything well planned.”

Seregon laughed. “I cannot help but wonder if our calm headmaster is ready for this group that includes our brothers. I am not certain if I am pleased that the young ones are of the age to participate, or worried that Daeron will be running wild through the forest, fully armed.”

“He will not be running wild,” I said. “The masters will keep an eye on them. Undertaking these games will be good for them. Being a warrior will not always be as adventuresome as I think our little brothers believe at this point. I think an eye opener is in store for them.”

“That it will be,” Seregon agreed, as he began shuffling through the papers he held. Quickly, he found the one he wanted, and his face took on a more serious expression as he edged back toward the official reason he had come to my office. I knew this would only be temporary; he would get to his questions in due time. Seregon would take care of the necessary business first. “I have been working on rearranging the home guard to offer more security in the area where the novices will be. With the movement of the spiders, I have rerouted the daily routines to include passes through these areas more frequently. I know we are limited at this point with the numbers in the home guard, but the changes will not cause any true hardships.” He handed the paper over to me. “By your leave, I will instruct Celelion and make him aware of the positions of the novices as Melda has planned.”

After Melda informed us of the route he would take the novices, we always notified the home guard as to the position and the daily movements of the games. If they were able, they would offer some assistance to the masters. A group of the home guard would leave trails for the novices to follow and if time permitted, they would engage the novices in mock battles. I smiled. This novice training exercise was truly a game for the often quiet guard. They delighted in transforming into fierce orcs bent on taking out as many of the novices as possible in a mock battle. I cannot say that I blame them.

A highlight of the games for everyone was that Celelion thrilled in taking on his sister’s husband, Melda, though officially the masters were not part of the games. Celelion’s reasoning was always the same: if they had been true orcs, they would not spare the masters. I saw no reason to intervene in this family tradition. The contest was always hard fought and a much needed release for the two older warriors, and it was also a contest that delighted the novices as they observed their headmaster pushed to his limit. The novices could learn much by observing these two seasoned and fierce warriors battling each other unto an ever-changing end. Even I found myself looking forward to which one would win this year.

“So what, cousin, will you wager this year on the outcome of Melda and Celelion?” Seregon asked.  I have always suspected that he could read my mind, and his timely mention of this contest merely offered more evidence that perhaps he did, indeed, know me all too well.

“I do not know,” I said, giving his offer the look of serious consideration. “I lost my best fillet knife to you last year when Celelion bested Melda.”

“Then I will offer it back,” Seregon said.

I leaned back in my chair. “Very well,” I agreed. “Then I will wager the new quiver I had made last winter.”

“Done,” Seregon smiled. “I need a new quiver.”

“Do not be so certain, cousin,” I said. “I will take Melda again this year. He will be smelling blood and will not be bested again.”

Seregon smiled crookedly. “Ah, but Celelion will be intent on not losing his title. He will be ready.”

“We will see,” I said. Now that our wager had been set, I picked up the paper outlining the rearranged home guard patrol and read it over.  “This appears fine. Of course, Celelion will make adjustments from the field if events change.”  Placing the parchment back on my desk, my thoughts took a more serious turn.  “I am concerned about the spiders. Thus far, we have heard no reports of any sighting this close to the protected woods, but at the rate they are moving, I do not want to assume they will not be a problem. Be certain the masters know of the latest reports we receive from the field.”

Seregon nodded. “I note that Melda has adjusted his usual path to a more eastern one. I presume this is in response to the western problems. Still, I will see that he is kept informed of any communication we receive about the spider activity.” Seregon chuckled. “Besides, we can always count on Daeron to let us know if there are any spiders within a hundred leagues of him.”

I smiled as I shook my head in mock sadness. “Poor Daeron. His time is running out. Soon he will have to face this fear.” I raised my eyebrows. “We are going to have to find a way to initiate him into the finer aspects of killing the creatures instead of tossing them into your plate.” The memory of an evening meal long ago when Legolas secreted a small garden spider into the family dining room and put it on Daeron, still made us laugh. In Daeron’s frantic dance to remove the spider from his arm, he knocked it into Seregon’s plate. I fear we will still be reminding Daeron of this episode when we reach the Undying Lands, much to his dismay, I am certain.

Seregon laughed out loud. “I wish you luck then. I fear he will never get over his hatred of the dread creatures. I suppose we can only hope that he does not run when confronted.”

I snorted softly. “He will not run.”

“That is possible,” Seregon mused. “He might be frozen to the spot.” Seregon shook his head mournfully. “I can only hope that whomever Uncle chooses to be his guard will be able to keep Daeron upright and fight spiders at the same time.”

“He has a few more years before we need worry,” I said, thinking how close Seregon might be to the truth. Daeron was unusually squeamish about the creatures. And that was only the little ones. I dreaded to think about him encountering the real menaces that dwell in our forest. Still, I maintained hope that with maturity he would master his fears.

Seregon leaned back in his chair and turned his resolute gaze to me. “Now that we are settled on our wager, the home guards, and my younger brother’s passage into adulthood, let us move to more pleasant conversation.” He smiled. “How was your evening with the lovely Elenna?”

I knew this was what was on his mind the moment he entered my office. Other than Seregon, there was no one with whom I could discuss such personal matters. A spontaneous smile sprang to my lips. Warmth flooded my chest.  I did not want to repress my joy; instead I wanted to share it with my kinsman and closest friend. “I appreciate you taking the final guard check last evening.”

Waving his hand in dismissal, Seregon said, “I was happy to do so. As payment of services rendered, I want to know the details.” His eyes lit in anticipation. “Did you kiss her?”

“Of course not,” I answered. “I just met her.” I did not dare cross into such familiarity, but this was not because I did not want to. Many years had passed since I had felt such an attraction to a maiden.  Mirkwood has her share of lovely maidens, and many of these maidens I saw daily. I could not deny that I found them pleasing, but I rarely had the time to cultivate attachments. No one had to tell me that I had been unwilling to take the steps necessary to nurture relationships with maidens, but I have found it much safer to stay within the confines of family and duty. I was sure my parents would like me to settle down with a nice elleth and give them grandchildren, but the time had simply not been right, nor had I met a maiden that brought such thoughts to the forefront of my thinking. Until now.

“And what did you find out about her?” Seregon asked. “Do you wish to see her again?”

“I would like to know her better,” I said. “She is a lovely maiden, but she lives a three-day ride from here.” I sighed. “And the villagers are different than we are in many ways.”

“How do you mean?”

“The villagers are for the most part Silvan, of course, and have lived in the same areas of the forest since time immemorial. They seem to be less reserved than those of us with Sindar roots.”

“We have always known that,” Seregon pointed out.

“True, but I suppose I have never considered the differences on a personal level. They seem much freer in how they approach relationships. There is less protocol.”

“In what way?” Seregon asked.

I did not know exactly how to answer that. I felt as if Elenna had wanted me to kiss her, but I had been the one to hold back. Such immediate intimacy was not the way we conducted courtships and certainly not at first or casual encounters. When we courted a maiden, the process was often long and drawn out. Not everyone took long years to know that they wished to be together, but I could not see me skirting the appropriate time needed to be certain the match would be a good one. Nor could I not risk gossip or bad feelings with the subjects of these woods by causing misunderstandings or hurt feelings. Casual relationships with maidens were not a part of my life. “I do not know exactly. She is the daughter of a village leader and should be treated with all respect. I simply felt that they are less inhibited in some ways.”

“I am not certain what you are saying,” Seregon said.

I grimaced. “I am not either, and that is the problem.”

“I do not think the villagers are so different than we are.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “I think the problem is that you simply do not know anything about maidens.”

I laughed. “That is true enough.”

“Despite possible differences,” Seregon said, “do you plan to court her?”

“We will see,” I said. “I will have to wait and evaluate the situation when I have more information.”

Seregon laughed out loud then. “Evaluate the situation?” he howled. “You make her sound like a war campaign.”

I frowned. “That is not what I meant. I simply meant that she might not wish to see me more than last night. I do not know. I am certain there are many eligible Elves who would vie for her attention”

Seregon snorted. “But none better than you!” He leaned forward. “If you wish to pursue this, do not be put off. You are a warrior and a hunter. You can track her.”

I laughed then at his ridiculous analogy. “And now you make her sound like game I am looking to fell.”

“That is often what courtship is, my cousin. It is a game of survival of the most fit. You can be charming when you set your mind to it.”

“Now you encourage me to be dishonest?” I grinned.

Seregon waved his hand. “Not at all. I encourage you to be yourself. Let her know your interest.”

“And if she does not return this?” I said, feeling my chest tighten.

“Then you will have the answer to where this might have gone. If you do not try, then you will never know.”

“Sometimes ignorance is better than the stark knowledge of your shortcomings,” I said.

“What shortcomings would those be, Aldamir? The worst that anyone can say about you is that you are too serious at times.” He shook his head. “That is not something I can readily comment on as I am viewed the same way.” He smiled then. “But you and I both know that we are not nearly as boring as others assume.”

“Our brothers are the ones who think we are as dull as a rusted blade, not those with any sense of propriety.”

“Nonetheless, you should do as you see fit. Enjoy the maiden’s company while she is here. You will know what to do when the time comes.”

“That is good to know,” I said dryly. “I hope that you will be near at hand to help me discern what I know when that time comes.”

Seregon laughed heartily. “And just think, your naneth would be thrilled.” He shook his head as if dismayed. “I do not understand, but the female folk seem to embrace matchmaking as a calling. My naneth would love for me to find a nice elleth to tell me what to do, thereby relieving her of the responsibility of having to supervise my every move.”

I laughed. “Do you think bonding would ease our naneths of the need to direct us?”

“No, but Naneth says it would,” Seregon laughed. “Parenting must be a hard habit to break.”

“Indeed,” I agreed. “Adar would not say anything, I do not think, but my guess is that he would like for me to settle into a more domestic routine with my own children to harass me. Occasionally he will tell me he has kept a list of all the ridiculous things I did as an elfling so he can remind me of them when I am an adar.”

Seregon grimaced. “I hope he will not bring up the wine pantry incident. I get headaches thinking about it.”

I could not help but laugh at the memory of an event that was not amusing at the time. At least it was not the next morning.  “As do I,” I said.

“And this is what you want?” Seregon asked with an amused tilt to his mouth. “You want to bond and put yourself through having children like we were? May the Valar help us. I do not know that I could handle elflings. I would rather battle orcs.”

“I am sure that there were times when our parents thought we were orcs.” I smiled feeling a longing in my heart that I had not known was there until recently. “But someday, yes, I would like to have my own spawn.”

“And Elenna has potential as the mother for your offspring?” he asked.

“I truly do not know. Only time will tell.”

“But you like you her?”

I smiled again. “I like her.”

“Then it is settled,” he said as he stood. “By your leave, my lord, I have duties to attend. I believe my work here is complete.”

“Indeed it is,” I smiled. “One more thing,” I said shaking my self away from the pleasant thoughts of the most beautiful maiden I had ever seen. “I have a message from Melda that it is time for the warriors to attend a skills trial. He has proposed the usual rotation schedule to bring in warriors from the field to participate. He will be prepared once he returns from the Endurance Games, and I give him leave to begin. That will include you and me, cousin,” I told him, raising my brow.

Seregon grimaced. “The trials are not altogether terrible, I suppose,” he said. “At least there is much feasting and family that surrounds the suffering.”

Indeed, a mixture of pleasure and pain always came hand in hand with the warriors’ trials. Despite the punishing work-outs arranged by Melda for the warriors to continue to hone our skills, this event was a joyous time for the families of the warriors when their loved ones were home. Many family members came to observe the contests and instructional bouts given by the masters. Families brought baskets of food and drink, feasting with the warriors and other families as they cheered the ones drilling on the fields. The trials would go on for nearly two months in the late summer and early fall every other year as the constantly shifting troops came and went. Each warrior was home for a week of sweat and reunion with his family. I have to say that I enjoy the time immensely when I walk among those under my command and watch as they push themselves to achieve an even higher standard. Though I did feel some dread at what Melda would do to me personally, I have to also say that I love pushing myself into a sweat drenched and exhausted state of remembering what it feels like to wield a sword and bow. I spend far too much time indoors. So does Seregon. He had not spent nearly as much time in the field as he was accustomed. Though he never complained, I knew he missed being out in the forest as much as I did. “Perhaps we should begin practicing so as to not embarrass ourselves,” I said.

“Do not despair, cousin,” he chuckled. “I will help you get back in shape before Melda finds out how soft you have gone.”

I shook my head. “And I will help you serve night duty for the next month so that you will recall what it feels like to be sleep deprived.”

He bowed to me in a mocking fashion. “If taking this burden will make you feel better about your inadequate skills, then I will gladly accept it.”

I laughed and waved my hand at him in leave. “Go and start sharpening your blade. I will meet you on the fields when the time comes.”

“I accept your challenge, my lord. I will try to not embarrass you,” he called over his shoulder as he left.

After the communal feast the night before, Adar and Naneth hosted a small evening meal in the Great Hall for the visitors and their companions. I finished my work later than usual and quickly went to my chambers where I bathed and changed into formal robes.  This gathering would be less formal than the one the evening before, but my parents still insisted that we all dress as appropriate to our stations. Once I had crammed the mithril circlet on my head, checked one last time to be certain it was secure and not hanging crookedly on my still damp hair, I walked hurriedly down the corridor from the family wing to the Great Hall. As the posted guards saluted, I acknowledged them, but my main focus was on maintaining a composure that was slipping away as quickly as the time. At the doors of the Great Hall, I stopped for a moment to gather myself. With one last deep breath, I nodded to the guard to open the door.

In those first few moments of entering the Hall, I dismissed everyone and everything from my sight as I sought out the dark hair of the maiden who had occupied nearly all my thoughts over the last day. She was there, standing by the unlit fireplace talking to my naneth and Aunt Noreth. Adar caught my attention before I could make my way to her and motioned me to join him. Seregon and the leaders were with him, seated comfortably in a small alcove of embroidered chairs and sleekly polished tables. The younger brothers were milling about talking to the members of the villagers’ delegations. I bowed to my adar as the village leaders and Seregon came to their feet and bowed to me. “I apologize for my tardiness,” I said. “There were some last minute details I was required to attend before I could leave my office.” I waved the villagers and my cousin to the chairs. “Please, be seated.” Adar motioned me to a vacant chair. I took the seat and received the goblet of wine a servant brought immediately to my elbow. I took a polite sip, using the motion to steal one last glance toward the fireplace.

“Are there more reports of spider activity?” Calendon asked.

“The dispatches I received today mirror those I have received for the last few days,” I told him. “The situation has not improved.” This was not the whole story, but I said nothing else for I had not had time to brief Adar on what the last minute dispatches held. The situation had not improved, but there had been new information. Even with new warriors sent into the fray, the spiders seem to spring out of nowhere. I had begun to fear that we were fighting a losing battle against numbers that far exceeded anything we could have ever imagined. Erelas’ report had been filled with locations and numbers that belied reason. In his last dispatch, he revealed a most unusual finding that I was not quite certain what to make of yet. Still, the villagers were doomed if we did not see to the removal of the spiders or the villagers quickly. They would not cohabitate peacefully. Time was running short.

Sensing my discomfort with the line of conversation, I supposed, Adar waved his hand. “Let us not speak of worries. We will address them on the morrow. Tonight we will enjoy one another’s company, and the fine food and wine that has been set out for us.”

“Of course,” Calendon said. “I would be very interested in hearing about your foresters, my lord,” he said, addressing Adar. “We strive to care for the forest of our home and are always looking for new ways to aid the trees.”

As Adar and the village leaders talked about the growing of new seedlings, I noticed Seregon watching me. He smiled and nodded slightly toward where our naneths were gaily chatting with Elenna. I slanted one side of my mouth in mock horror and turned my attention to the conversation about growing and maintaining the health of trees that I knew were doomed to fall to the shadow unless we could miraculously come up with a solution.

When we were seated for the meal, I found myself next to Elenna. Suddenly it dawned upon me that my naneth’s hand was written all over this arrangement. I fought the urge to look at the queen. I imagined she was already envisioning rocking her first grandchild.

“I had a lovely evening last night,” I heard the soft voice next to me say. I turned quickly to look into eyes as blue as an autumn sky. I grinned despite myself. She returned my smile. “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the beauty of the gardens and the paths by starlight.”

“It was my pleasure,” I said. “The gardens are one of my naneth’s passions. Her touch can bring forth even the most reluctant bloom.”

“As I saw,” Elenna said. “They are exquisite. I have been speaking to her about the many varieties she grows. She has much knowledge in the art.”

“Yes, she does,” I agreed. “She and my Aunt Noreth spend a great deal of time seeing to the gardens.”

“And you do not enjoy such pursuits?” she asked.

“I enjoy the gardens. I find that I have little time to engage in their care at this time.” I smiled. “But I have spent time cultivating beds and seedlings.”

“But not by choice?” she laughed.

“Not at the time,” I smiled wryly.

“Then what, my lord, do you do with your free time?” she asked.

I had no reply. I thought about this for a few moments. I seemed to have very little time I sought to fill. My time was dictated by my duty—and personal choices. “I suppose I spend it with my family.”

“I see,” she said. “I met your younger brother and Lord Seregon’s younger brother earlier; they are pleasant and engaging young Elves.”

I chuckled. “I am pleased to hear that they know something of manners. One can never be certain where they are concerned.”

Elenna laughed. I felt an odd tingling run my spine as I listened to the lightness of her voice. She absolutely delighted me. “They were very polite,” she said. Then she took a delicate sip of wine as she looked thoughtfully at me. “No, I cannot imagine you tending gardens or growing flowers.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“You do not seem to be one who would be able to be still long enough to wait for the fruits of such labor. You seem more at ease with constant activity.”

That was not what I expected. Suddenly, I felt as if this trait of mine ran contrary to the spirit of a wood-elf.  By blood, I was Sinda, but I had known only the forest as my home and as such, had always considered myself as much a wood-elf as any Silvan.  Elenna was correct that such pursuits did not hold my interest for long. I did enjoy the peacefulness of the gardens and longed for moments to sit quietly among the flowers and greenery to read or simply to spend time under the trees. But finding such pleasures was entirely different than spending hours on my knees digging out weeds. Plainly, I was not called to grow things, but I did appreciate them. I was, however, called to the forest, in appreciation and protection. “I suppose I am drawn to more active pursuits,” I said cautiously.

She smiled. “I think you are a comfortable commander.”

“Comfortable commander,” I mused, relieved that she did not appear to find me lacking.  A smile pushed at my lips at her unlikely description. “I am not certain I know what that means.”

“You are comfortable with who you are,” she said. “You seem very natural in command.”

“I have been commanding for a long time,” I said as I noted that my adar was watching me with some interest and possibly some amusement. He frequently reminded me that I was young in age and young in my duty.

“Yes, but not everyone is comfortable with who they are,” Elenna went on, apparently unaware of the glances exchanged between my adar and myself. “And not everyone can find the truth of who they are and use that truth to the betterment of themselves and others.”

“I try to always do my best where the protection of this realm is concerned,” I said, suddenly wondering where this conversation was going. “My warriors’ lives depend on me making sound decisions and making them swiftly when called for. We have no lives to waste.”

“You know every warrior by name, do you not?” she asked.

I felt my eyebrows furrow slightly. “Yes,” I said slowly.

“Nothing escapes your attention, does it?” she said, a smile upon her lips that I could not read.

“The purpose of this conversation completely escapes me,” I said, perhaps a bit too stiffly.

“I mean no offense, my lord. I simply want to know you.”  She looked at me with such intensity that I felt she could truly see to my heart. “I find you fascinatingly different from any Elf I have ever known. I see this competent, alert, and hard-working commander of all the troops of this realm and under that competence, I see an Elf who knows every warrior by name and most likely his wife or his sweetheart’s name, and the names of his children and his parents.”

“I see that as part of being a competent commander,” I said.

“I see that as part of your heart, my lord. Not all commanders are so caring and personal. And you are entirely comfortable with this part of yourself. Indeed, you do not even view this as extraordinary.”

I shook my head.

“Even now,” she said, “you do not see your abilities as unique. You simply expect that everyone is as devoted as you, and you suffer nothing less. And I wager your troops give this to you.”

For a moment, I could say nothing I was so stunned. Never had I felt so laid bare or so confused. She had been bold in saying those things to me, bolder than anyone I had ever known. Not even Seregon had ever been so blunt—or so right. I could not have put into words the things she said. A part of me was frightened witless, and another part of me was so drawn to her that I could not look away or find any offense for her trespasses into my personal life. In fact, there was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to pull her from her chair into my arms and kiss her until neither of us could draw breath. “The woodland warriors,” I said instead, “are devoted to the protection of this realm. There are none on all of Arda who work harder or give more of themselves. But this is to their credit, not mine.”

“Indeed,” she said, “but the commander does instill either loyalty or rebellion. You do influence them.”

“I suppose,” I said. “But I appreciate them and hold them in high regard. What they do is dangerous and often difficult. I intend my influence to be one of a positive value. Even at that, I am sometimes forced to make difficult decisions and to reprimand when called for. This is my duty. The good of the entire realm is more important than one individual. Still, that does not mean that individual needs are ignored. I do my best to see that those within my power to grant are met.”

She smiled again. “As I said, you are a comfortable commander.”

Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms. I sighed as I tried to digest what she had said. “Commanding is not always a comfortable post. I would say that it is often trying. I am responsible for what happens, whether it goes well or ill.”

She tilted her head as if to think. “I did not mean that you do not feel the burden of responsibility or the sorrows of loss. While you do not carry this burden without knowing its weight, you seem to carry it as if it is a part of your nature to shoulder the heaviest burdens.”

Again, I had no reply. I looked out across the Great Hall at everyone who talked and ate, enjoying the evening. Here was almost everyone I loved. Legolas laughed at something Daeron said. A moment of foresight flashed before my eyes, and I saw what they would soon know about the evil that hunted us daily. “Sometimes,” I said quietly, “it is too heavy.” But worth it, I wanted to say, but did not. Adar’s head was bent slightly as he listened to what my naneth was telling him. Aunt Noreth smiled at Sordien as he talked animatedly using his hands to tell his story. I saw Calendon join in Adar and Naneth’s conversation. Seregon caught my eye and smiled from where he was listening intently as another villager explained something in what looked like painstaking detail.

Suddenly realizing I had drifted, I turned back at Elenna. She was watching me. Her face was open and her smile genuine. “My lord, I would be honored if you would walk me to our cottage this night.” Then her smile broadened. “That is if you wish and you have no other responsibilities to attend.”

“I wish,” I said softly as I felt a smile come back to my lips.

                                                       Chapter Three: Legolas

The morning we were to leave for the Endurance Games came so slowly I was not certain if it would ever arrive. Darkness had yet to give way to light when I could finally justify rising from my bed. I had packed the night before what essentials I could stow in one small travel pack and placed my weapons out in readiness. After quickly washing, I dressed and left for an early morning meal.

In the corridor, I came upon Daeron on his way to the family dining room. “Good morning,” I smiled.

With a feeble wave of his hand and an even weaker smile, he asked, “Am I up yet?”

I laughed. “You are walking.”

“Good,” he yawned as we entered the dining room. “That is a start.”

Adar was already seated at the table, dressed only in a tunic and leggings, sipping tea as he looked over papers I thought must be the schedule Galion prepared for him daily. Seeing him so comfortably unadorned, I chuckled to myself: The king has not arisen yet, only my adar.

“Good morning,” he smiled, placing the papers aside.

“Why are you up so early, Adar?” I asked after Daeron and I had greeted him and taken our usual seats at the table.

“Parents customarily see their sons off on this excursion.”

“Our naneths are coming too?” Daeron said, his eyes finally coming fully open and plainly horrified.

Adar laughed. “No. You may bid them farewell before you leave the palace.”

At that time, Aldamir and Seregon came through the door, dressed for the day in their green warrior tunics and their knives strapped to their belts. I thought they seemed relaxed enough as they greeted us and sat down at the opposite side of the table.

Daeron examined his brother with narrowed eyes. “Are you coming to the training field with us?”

“Yes,” Seregon replied as he placed his meal cloth in his lap. “Aldamir and I always go to the field to see off the Endurance Games participants.” He smiled wryly. “Of course, you would not know that. Until today, you have always been sound asleep in your bed.”

Daeron slumped back in his chair, still staring at this brother as if he were trying to discern if this was the truth or merely a tale to disguise the fact that our older brothers were watching us.

Aldamir nodded to the servant as she placed a mug of steaming tea at his place. “Do not worry, Daeron, we will not hug or kiss you good-bye.”

“That is not my worry,” he said. “I am concerned that you will frighten the other novices. We are used to what you look like in the morning. They are unschooled in such horrors.”

Aldamir put a look of insult on his face and looked down at the front of his tunic. He ran his hand over the perfectly pressed cloth. “I am dressed appropriately.”

Adar laughed. “Eat. This simple pleasure will be the most fondly recalled aspect of home for the next ten days.”

Daeron and I ate our fill and possibly a bit more than needed, but I suspected that Daeron feared as much as I that Adar was right. I had heard the stories of Melda not allowing time to eat anything for days other than awebas, the dried mixture of honeyed oats and nuts that warriors ate when time did not allow true meals. Daeron and I had gorged ourselves on awebas when we were younger, and I did not wish to repeat that mistake.

When we had eaten all of the morning meal we could hold and still be able to travel, Adar sent us to bid farewell to our naneths.

I knocked gently on the door to my parents’ chamber.

“Come,” I heard my naneth call.

Naneth was waiting in their private sitting room for me. This room has always been one of my favorite rooms in the all the palace. The personal touches of my parents fill every space. Carpets cover the smooth stone floor; their soft surfaces swirled with leaves of every shade of green the forest has to offer. The softly blended colors make me feel as if I am walking in the forest on a late summer’s eve.

The furniture is warm and inviting as well. When I was an elfling, I found comfort there with my parents when the nights were stormy or when nightmares invaded my slumber. Even now that I am too old to sit in my parents’ laps, I still enjoy sinking into Adar’s chair in front of a roaring fire on cold winter’s night. The fireplace was unlit on this day, but was laid with logs and fresh greenery. A portrait of my mother has hung above the fireplace for as long as I can remember. Her brother, Tarondor, painted it for Adar at the time of my parents’ bonding. In the portrait, she is seated on a bench with her eyes cast downward to a fully opened snow-white peony bloom. She looks incredibly ethereal in the soft colors and the slightly hazy background of the gardens and tall beech trees. A portrait of my brothers and me that was painted for Naneth’s begetting day a few years ago is hung on a far wall above a tall chest of burnished wood and golden clasps. Oropher’s sword and knives are arranged on the wall next to their bed chamber door, situated under a portrait of him and Liunil seated in the throne room. A small portrait of Naneth’s parents brought with them when they came to the forest is on the other side of the door. Under the carved frame is her adar’s sword from the Last Alliance and a framed woven lace collar made by her naneth. Two houses joined into one. My parents’ sitting room is such a personal place that I feel as if the history of my family is held in all the portraits, books and keepsakes that are housed with love in this one room.

With her hair loose about her shoulders and still wearing her night robe, she rose gracefully from the chair in front of the fireplace and opened her arms to me. For as long as I have had memory, her scent has been as distinctive to me of her as her face. On that morning, I felt particularly comforted by being so near to her.

When she released me from her arms, her hands remained on my shoulders. “Good morning,” she smiled. “I trust you are prepared for your training exercise?”

“Yes, Naneth, I am ready,” I said.

“Good,” she said as she took my face between her hands. “I am so proud of you. I know you will do well. All I ask of you is for you to be cautious and safe. You, my son, are far too precious to your adar and me to risk harm coming to you. Learn well and enjoy your time under the trees”

I smiled. “I am told that we will not exactly enjoy this trip, but I will try.”

Naneth laughed. “Do your best. The trees will welcome a group of young novices under their boughs. They will share their song with you.”

I chuckled and hugged her again. “I will do my best, Naneth.”

Breaking from my tight hug, she stepped back and waved her hand toward the door. “I will miss you, but go before you are late. I love you, child. I will look forward to hearing about your trip when you return.”

When I returned to the corridor, I met with Daeron as he came from the chambers he shared with his naneth. Aldamir and Seregon were also there, leaning casually against the wall, waiting to walk with us to the field. Daeron stopped in front of his brother and whispered loudly, “Do you know what she told me?” Apparently, he did not require a reply for he plunged on. “She told me to be sure I cleaned my teeth and bathed daily. Then she asked me if I had enough clean stockings and told me to change my undergarments every day.” He threw his hands up. “Where does she think I am going, to Imladris to lord lessons?”

Seregon nearly choked in his effort to not burst out laughing. Aldamir dropped his head, most likely pretending he was reviewing troops so that he would not double over with amused hysteria. Not having their dignity, I laughed aloud. Aldamir waved his hand at me to silence me, but I could not stop laughing.

“Shh.h,” Seregon chuckled. “You do not want Naneth to hear you.”

“Or you,” Aldamir said as he poked me in the shoulder. Taking a deep breath, I gulped in air to try and control myself.

“Does she tell you to change your undergarments every time you go into the field?” Daeron asked incredulously. A hoot escaped me again. For my poorly contained effort, I received three stern glances. Daeron turned back to Seregon and held up his pack. “Does she think I have ten days worth of garments in this one small pack?”

Seregon hastily placed his arm around Daeron’s shoulders and began directing him down the corridor.  “No,” Seregon said, still flushed and constantly rearranging his lips into a tight upwardly tilted line to suppress laughter. “She is merely worried, Daeron. That is all. She cannot tell you that she is worried, so she tries to make herself feel better by knowing you are well stocked and prepared. This gives her a small comfort as if she were there with you to be certain you do not need anything,”

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Daeron snorted. “I can be the first novice to go on the games with my nana.”

“She is not going with you, Daeron. Naneth only wants to be sure you will be all right without her.”

Daeron let out a long huffing breath and shook his head. “I cannot believe this.”

Seregon patted Daeron affectionately on his shoulder. “Do not worry little brother; she will get better in several hundred years.” Daeron groaned as we all finally burst into laughter.

We were not the first to arrive on the small training field that morning as the forest around us began to awaken. The first glint of the rising sun glazed the grass and trees with soft golden light. Several other novices had already arrived and were sitting on the grassy knoll of the field with their packs and weapons nearby. Daeron and I dropped our packs and placed our bows against a tree and went to join them. As more novices trickled toward us, I thought that everyone seemed excited, even the novices who had gone before. This cheered me. If they did not dread what they knew would come, then I felt the games were something we would all survive more or less intact.

Aldamir and Seregon approached Melda, and I watched as they conversed in quiet tones. Occasional laughter came from them as they stood with arms folded, eyeing those of us who waited. I imagined they were recalling their own experiences with the games and again, I was heartened that they could find humor in their memories.

As the last of the novices arrived, parents also began to gather at the edge of the field, watching and waiting. Soon I saw Adar coming down the path toward where the parents stood in a tight group. He was still dressed in only a tunic and leggings. No circlet was on his head or any other sign of his position was visible. All the novices jumped to our feet. Parents bowed respectfully. The masters and our older brothers bowed and placed their hands over their hearts in formal salute. Adar nodded his acknowledgment and waved his hand. “Please, carry on. I am merely here to bid farewell to the novices.”

Melda nodded again. “We are always pleased to have you join us, my lord.” Adar smiled and turned to speak to Barahir’s father.

At last, when all were gathered, Melda held up his hand and silence fell over the novices. “Good morning to you all and welcome to the Endurance Games. You are all aware of our goals for this exercise. Our desire as masters is to offer you the opportunity to experience the conditions of patrol, battle and the woodcraft skills needed by warriors in a prolonged campaign. However, you must remember that we will be in the forest, and you should not at any time take for granted your safety. While we will use only training weapons in our exercises, you are required to keep your true weapons well within your reach at all times. No one is to wander off alone. A master will know where you are at all times. You will be divided into groups that will vary each day so that you experience serving with an ever-changing group. A captain will be appointed daily for each group.” He paused for a moment and looked us over. “For the beginning of the trip, I will divide you into four groups. The four oldest novices will serve as captains. All of them have participated in these games in the past and will help those who have not, understand what is required of you.”  He removed a small sheet of parchment from his tunic. “Moralendi will captain the group consisting of Findo and Alar. Your master today will be Orocarni.” Melda shifted his gaze up to look at us once again. He went on. “Nouren will captain Derion and Legolas. Your master will be Ambar.” He nodded toward us. “With Callilendi will be Barahir and Tarior. Your master will be Galdor. And lastly, with Belas, will be Kama and Daeron. You master will be Haluil.” I heard Daeron groan when his name was called for Belas’s group. Melda tucked the note back into his tunic and nodded to my brother. “Lord Aldamir…”

Aldamir smiled at us. “How pleased and proud I am to see such a fine group of novices assembled here today. As a commander, I am gratified to know that our future ranks hold such promise. This exercise will be one that will teach you much and aid you in honing skills that will go with you from this point onward. I do not doubt that you will make us proud.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Go safely.”

After a brief farewell with the attending parents, we began our journey. Our brothers held to their promise to not hug or kiss us good bye, but Adar had made no such promises. Despite being in full view of so many, I was relieved when he gathered me tightly to his chest and laid a kiss on my head. I found reassurance in his confident embrace.

The heat was far less noticeable as we wound our way further into the forest. The dense canopy of foliage barely rustled in the windless morning, but the leafy shelter did offer a pleasant shadiness. Occasional bursts of sunlight touched the leaf strewn path, dappling the shade with gently waving yellow dots. Birds chirped in happy song as we passed.

At mid-afternoon, Melda paused in a clearing to the southeast of where we had started out that morning from home and called us to gather around him. “Two trails have been laid. I will divide you into groups and you will follow your path to its termination.” He looked toward Kama. “Kama, you will lead your group southeast. You will lead: Belas, Daeron, Legolas, Alar, and Callilendi.” He turned to Findo. “Findo, you will lead Moralendi, Barahir, Nouren, Derion and Tarior to the southwest.” He smiled. “I will see you all at trail’s end. Now go.”

Our group gathered together with Kama in the center. He smiled. “I think Melda starts the games with this exercise every year to give us time to settle in and to get attuned to the forest in this area. If it is like last year, we will arrive at our campsite for tonight.” He glanced around. The masters had disappeared.  “The masters will be waiting on us at trail’s end, but do not assume that they are not watching us. They will be around, and once they are certain we are on the right trail, they will go on to our destination to await us. Even though they are near until the time we are almost there, they will not interfere. If we get lost, then we will be lost until we find our way. The later we are arriving, the less time we will have to rest. Pay attention. This first exercise is usually fairly easy, but do not think that we will not have to look for tracks. First and foremost, remember that we are far enough away from the protected areas of our home to encounter danger. Keep your real weapons within reach and be alert. Now, fan out and let us find the first clue as to our direction.”

Our group parted and began to search the ground and underbrush for any signs of a trail. The other group had moved to the west of us and was slowly making their way off into the woods looking for the tracks they were to follow.

We had only been searching for a few minutes when Alar called to Kama. “Look, captain. There are scuff marks here along this fallen branch.” He crouched and pointed to the limb that was as large around as my thigh. “See the crushed and broken bark. Someone has stepped on it.” Alar stood and stepped over the branch. “And here the leaves are disturbed, leaving an area on the ground that is newly exposed.”

Kama smiled and clapped Alar on the back. “I think you are right.” He motioned us all forward. “Continue to search this way,” he said as he moved forward, following the logical line of where someone would have walked.

From there on, the path was fairly simple to follow. The masters had not gone to much trouble to cover their tracks. About an hour into our tracking, however, the markings simply disappeared. An earnest hunt began as we fanned out to pick the trail up again.

“And this was going so well,” Daeron quipped as he walked along a line of scrub bushes, looking carefully at each one. I walked along behind him, searching the ground for any signs that our prey had doubled back on us.

“Here!” I heard Alar call to our right. “He has changed his course again toward the south. There are footprints in this soft dirt.”

Kama joined Alar and looked at where Alar was pointing. “Good work,” he said then chuckled. “You are very good at this, Alar.” Alar flushed a bright red.

Belas snorted behind me and whispered to Callilendi, “Indeed. It is a good thing the elfling can do something at least half way, especially since he can hardly lift a sword. And his archery! We are all in danger when he has a bow in his hand.”

Daeron and I both whirled around to look at him. He glared back at us for a moment as if challenging us to say something and when we did not, he went off in the direction Kama had gone, leaving Callilendi to face us. He merely shook his head and followed Belas.

“What a thing to say!” Daeron said, angrily. “He does not know Alar.”

“He is just being Belas,” I said as I fell in beside Daeron to follow the others. “We will simply have to ignore him”

“He is somewhat big to ignore,” Daeron snorted. “Alar is doing fine.” He stopped and looked at me. “And he should not have to put up with Belas just because he is Belas.”

“Perhaps Belas will not say anything directly to him. As long as he does not bother Alar, then it is probably best that we do not say anything to him. The masters will see how he behaves.”

“But will they intervene?” Daeron asked.

“They will if he becomes a problem,” I said as I started to walk again. “Besides,” I said as we quickened our pace to catch up to the group, “why would you be surprised? Everyone knows that Belas is curt to anyone he takes a notion to dislike.”

“Which is nearly everyone,” Daeron huffed.

I laughed. “True, but since we know he is mostly hot air, I do not see any reason to let him bother us. If we ignore him, then he will finally stop.”

“Stop?” Daeron said incredulously. “He has always been this way, and he has not stopped yet. Being a warg’s tail is as much a part of his personality as his aversion to smiling.”

“Ignore him, Daeron,” I said bringing back to mind the seriousness of this training. “We cannot risk getting into a squabble with him. Personally, I do not want to have to go home and tell my parents that I was reprimanded on this trip because I could not curb my tongue.” I smiled and bumped him playfully with my shoulder. “You, on the other hand, everyone would expect to get into trouble for saying what you think.”

Daeron snorted, but made no reply.

As we walked on for a minute, he tilted his head toward me and smiled wryly. “See, I can keep my thoughts to myself, or I would have pointed out that you are just as likely to tell someone that they are behaving like the south end of an ignorant orc as I am. You have certainly had enough choice words for me.”

“But that is you,” I laughed. “I have better sense than to pick a fight with another novice while training.”

“This is not about picking a fight,” he said. “Belas harasses people he sees as weak. Protecting someone or offering support to someone he is picking on is different. We cannot just stand by and allow him to hurt Alar.”

I sighed. He was right, of course. If Belas did cause problems, then we would have to deal with it appropriately; I was simply not certain at that point what the appropriate means would be. The first person to tell our concerns to would be our captain, but if Belas was captaining that day, this would be like complaining to Adar that we disapproved of his methods of punishment. Matters would only get worse. “We will have to wait and see, I suppose. If Belas becomes a problem, then we can look at it at that time, talk to some of the other novices, and then decide what to do.”

“Come to think of it,” Daeron said, “I do not think the masters will interfere no matter what he does, unless he endangers himself or others.” He stopped and turned to me. “My understanding is that they will allow us to work through everything just as if we are true warriors serving in the field. I have heard Seregon say that when there are personality conflicts, the captains do not intervene unless the quarrel becomes a threat to the patrol. They leave it up to the interested parties to sort out their problems on their own.”

I shrugged. “Then we will have to find a way to deal with this that does not create more problems. As long as Belas does not harm Alar, then perhaps we should stay out of it. I cannot see interfering unless Alar is unable to deal with the situation himself.” I smiled. “Perhaps Belas will move on to someone else.”

“I do not think Alar can handle this by himself. He is too insecure at this point,” Daeron said.

“But he has done well so far with tracking, better than Belas. Perhaps that will bolster his confidence?”

With a sigh, Daeron nodded. “Perhaps.” Then he muttered, “But what makes Alar feel better, makes Belas angrier than a bear with a thorn in his paw.” I laughed to myself.

No one said very much as we followed the last of our trail to where the masters were waiting. They were seated in a clearing that nestled next to a tributary that ran from the mountains to join the Forest River. The creek was small and ran lower than normal due to the lack of rainfall, but the sound of the water lazily running over the rocks was a welcome sign of relief from the heat.

Our group arrived only a few minutes earlier than the other, but there was enough time for us to feign relaxed boredom when they came through the trees.

Melda appointed duties. I was among those assigned to first watch. After the completion of setting up our camp, Nouren, my captain for the night, set out the perimeters we would walk for our watch. Ambar followed silently.

Dusk came promptly and full darkness soon upon its heels. After eating a stew that Daeron had helped cook and being surprised that it was not nearly as bad as I would have predicted, I took my bow and walked to the area assigned to me. I followed the plot of my watch to become familiar with it and then found a welcoming oak that was kind enough to grant me a view of my assigned area. The crickets were busy singing love songs as the tree frogs echoed their own refrain. I listened to their voices until I felt I knew their rhythm and would note any change. I knew I would know if they ceased, but oft times, just a change in their song can alert one to something moving in the forest. The stars blinked between the branches overhead as if they were as content as I to simply abide in this place. The old oak hummed at my back. I was sorry when the time came for me to travel the area of my watch again, and I had to leave this glorious moment of peace. So far, the games had been a delightful exercise, but I knew this peace was false and soon enough the masters would be putting us through our paces. As difficult and tiring as I suspected the remainder of the games would be, I was glad to be in the forest and looking forward to what the next day would bring.

Chapter Four: Seregon

A knock sounded only seconds before Elendur, my aide, stuck his head in my office. “My lord, Lord Aldamir summons you to his office.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking up the map I had been using to plot out locations where the spiders had been reported. After all the hours I had spent looking for a common thread, a pattern to the spiders’ march, I could not see one. They were simply swarming.

Aldamir barely glanced up from a field report he was reading as he motioned me to the chair across from his desk. When he finally placed it on his desk and turned his attention to me, he looked as grim as I felt after spending an entire morning trying to track spiders on a map.

“What news?” I asked.

“Erelas has found more spider carcasses. He still believes they are fairly fresh kills even though they are merely dried out shells. From appearances, the dead spiders are being drained of their blood and body fluids.” He raised an eyebrow. “He thinks the red-banded spiders are feeding on their solid-colored cousins.”

I winced. “Could you not find a better description of their fellow spiders?”

He smiled, joylessly. “The number of bodies has increased significantly. They are finding them in groups. By appearances, our mysterious spider is helping us rid the forest of our old enemy.” An even bleaker look settled on his face as he exhaled slowly. “The bad news is that both Erelas and Ferendi think the red-banded ones are feeding so voraciously because they are reaching maturity.”

“That is a truly unpleasant thought,” I said. “Then they are readying to reproduce?”

“This appears to be the case,” he said. “While they may be aiding us in reducing the numbers of their kin, we cannot allow them to bear young. As aggressive as they are, the cure would surely be worse than the affliction.”

“And their venom?  Have any of the warriors been able to kill one so that they can procure a venom sac?”

“Not yet,” Aldamir said. “We have no way of knowing what a bite from one of these aberrant ones would do to an Elf.  If we can judge their venom by their size and aggressive behavior, then I fear they will be even more deadly than the solid black ones. We must find them before they can lay eggs.”

“Do you have any plans for expanding the search for them?” I knew Erelas was doing all within this power to locate them.

“I have sent orders for Erelas to continue to track the fall of bodies and see if they will offer some path to follow. As for the western patrol, I have sent orders for them to remain in their area and near the villages that are risk. Ferendi tells me that villagers are actively patrolling the perimeter of the villages themselves as best they can, and no one is venturing very far from home. The time will come soon when they will be forced to hunt. Game is becoming scarce, and they will have to go further into the woods to find food. We are running out of time.”

“There are no more warriors to send to aid them,” I said, feeling rather bleak that we had nothing more to offer in help to the besieged villagers. “We are already short in the home guard and at the northern and eastern borders.” 

“We cannot take any from the south. We will have to make do with those who are already searching,” Aldamir said. His frown deepened. “And,” he added, “I grow uneasy about the novices being in the woods. We have no way to predict where these new spiders will go.”

“Perhaps we should call them in,” I said.

“I have considered that. Unless more news comes to me that changes my mind, I will wait to hear from Erelas and Ferendi again to make that decision.” He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands at his waist. “We are still required to pay the novices a visit to observe.”

“When are you thinking of going?” I asked, trying to calculate how we would deal with spiders and observe the novices.  In truth, there was little we could do about the spiders that we were not already doing or little we could do until the decision was made about the villagers and a course of action was decided upon. The king and his advisors were still trying to persuade the villagers that relocating was a viable option. Until then, we were still operating as usual. I truly hoped that nothing would prevent us from going to view the games. My personal interest aside, I always looked forward to this part of my duty. Aldamir and I got a much needed night or two in the woods, and we also got a sometimes amusing look at how the bedraggled novices and masters were faring. I have to admit, I admire the masters; they are the bravest warriors I know.

“If there are no changes, then I plan to leave in the next few days, possibly the day after tomorrow. We will spend one night in the forest and then return. The masters will have worked them over fairly well by now. My aide will know where to find us if we are needed. We will not be far away.”

I smiled. “I will take clean undergarments.”

Aldamir laughed. “Your naneth will be pleased.”

The following morning, the dispatches we received told us nothing new and my hope renewed that we would indeed be able to spend our night in the forest.  Even with no new information, the reports spoke of more brittle spider carcasses littering the woods. Still, not even a hint of a sighting of the foul new spider stalking our woods had been seen again, only the remains of their feeding.

Aldamir met with the village leaders and the king all afternoon to discuss the urgency of evacuating the villagers.  Sordien and Calendon sprang upon the news of the black spiders being consumed as food as something to celebrate.  Aldamir told me he explained over and over to them that the red-banded spiders were potentially even more deadly than their kin, and this news was not cause to delay removing the villagers from their current location.

Thranduil had become impatient with the leaders, his oldest son told me as we walked toward the palace after a quick ride out to the king’s pastures to view the horses being trained and to speak to the horse masters about which mounts were ready to be taken into service.

“The king is nearly to the point of anger,” Aldamir said. “He does not wish to command them to leave, but prefers they make the decision themselves. As responsible leaders, the king feels Sordien and Calendon should see the dangers and hasten to locate their families and friends to safer grounds without it being forced upon them. His patience grows thin.”

“I suppose the villagers find it hard to see the woods as a dangerous place,” I said. “They know the normal dangers of the woodlands, but this threat is nearly beyond them,” I offered, trying to understand their reluctance myself. I knew the villagers had long lived in the western woods, and I understood their love for the trees under whose boughs they had been birthed, but those verdant green meadows and ancient trees would soon be twisted under the starless midnight of shadow if we did not find a way to disrupt its steady march. I was beginning to realize that Elf-kind were not always practical.

“They have had centuries to learn the perils coming from Dol Guldur,” Aldamir said. “The king likes this no better than they do. I do not like it either. Never do I wish to retreat from the evil that hunts us, but until we can make safe their homes, we must withdraw the Elves to safety.”

“Has Elenna said anything to you about moving the villages?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I have not spoken to her about any of this. She is aware, I am certain, of what dangers face her people, but I do not feel at liberty to discuss what goes on in the king’s chambers with her.”

I nodded. His decision was appropriate and what I expected him to say. “Still,” I said, “I wonder what she makes of all this. Eventually, she may prove an excellent ally.”

Aldamir shrugged. “I have no way of knowing at this point. I only hope that she will be understanding of this situation and be willing to be an example of trust and cooperation with the king.”

“In the meantime,” I smiled, “her company continues to brighten this otherwise dismal situation.”

Aldamir smiled. “It does.”

“Will you see her this evening?” I asked.

“She and her adar are dining with his sister, and then we go for a walk along the river.”

Elenna’s aunt is a mid-wife and healer among those who care for the Elves living in and near the king’s Halls. She married one of the king’s foresters years before I was born and has lived here since. I wondered if Elenna might remain behind with her aunt when her adar took his leave to return to their home. “It will be a nice night for a walk.”

“You have certainly taken a keen interest in my personal life as of late,” Aldamir said.

I chuckled. “As I do not have one, I thought to inflict myself into yours.”

Aldamir laughed. “Then allow me to suggest that you find your own maiden.”

“Would that I could,” I sighed. “My commanding officer rarely grants me respite from my duties.”

“Hm.m.m,” Aldamir hummed. “Then you should speak to him for I do not want you in mine.”

I slapped my hand over my heart. “I am hurt. I care only for your happiness—and a reminder of what it is like to kiss a maiden.”

A quicksilver glint flitted through his eyes. “It is nice. Very nice.”

That was all I wanted to know. My cousin, commander, and closest friend, was falling in love with this maiden.

When we reached the Great Doors, the guards saluted. The more senior of the two said, “My lords, the king has sent word that he requires you in his office upon your return.”

Aldamir and I went straightway to his adar’s office. As soon as Aldamir knocked upon his door, the king bade us to enter. We bowed in unison as Thranduil waved us to take the chairs across from the desk where he was seated.

With no preamble, Thranduil said, “I do not believe I am making my position clear to Sordien and Calendon. They continue to resist relocating. They leave me with no choice in this matter.” He rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I will issue a command to relocate the villagers.”

“And if they refuse,” Aldamir asked.

“Then we can offer them little if anything in the way of protection. They will accept the responsibility of their fate,” the king said, but not without regret, I thought, from the sad tone of his voice. “However,” he said, “I think a fair number of them will respond. We will have to be prepared to care for them.” He looked at Aldamir. “I wish you to meet with the chief-forester and locate several places within the safe woods that the villagers might find pleasing. We will present them to Sordien and Calendon. We will also need to provide housing and food until they can care for themselves. The foresters will be able to help in building talain and cottages, and they will know whom to enlist to aid them. Furthermore, we will have to provide safe movement through the forest for those who choose to answer my bidding. I know we are stretched to the limit with available warriors, but I must ask you once again to rearrange your patrols so that enough warriors will be available to escort them from the villages to the new home.”

“How many villagers are there?” I asked.

“Sordien’s village is the largest with over two-hundred Elves, including the children. Calendon’s is less, approximately a hundred and fifty.”

“Three hundred and fifty Elves,” I muttered, trying to make quick mental calculations of how we could arrange the groups and move them as quickly and quietly as possible. These were two of the largest villages in the forest. We would have to consider that there would be children and that the people would be moving supplies and belongings.

“My concern is that the villagers are safe,” Thranduil said. “You have my leave to do what will grant them safe passage.”

I nodded.

“When will you speak with Sordien and Calendon?” Aldamir asked.

“Tomorrow,” Thranduil said. “We can tarry no longer. The menace grows daily. I would like you to be present so that you can show them the areas in the forest where they may relocate. And I want you to explain how we will move the villagers safely.”  This, I understood; we would be in our offices all night, rearranging the patrols and dealing with foresters. I had no plans that this unexpected duty would interfere with, but I knew Aldamir did. I was sorry he would have to forego the walk by the river, but at the cost of one night, hopefully, we would see to the safety of Elenna’s people. I could not imagine being in Aldamir’s position of seeing her go back to her home while it was in such a dangerous place. On the other hand, if her village relocated closer, it would be easier for him to see her if that was what he desired. One night missed was a fair trade, I thought.

Aldamir nodded. “I will send for the chief-forester and have the troops realigned by tomorrow morning.”

Thranduil grimaced. “Do what is required.”

“Yes, my lord,” Aldamir answered.

“There is one more matter I would discuss with you,” Thranduil said with what I thought was great reluctance. “This matter is of a personal nature as well as one that may concern the realm,” he said, turning his gaze to his son. “Since this could involve the security of our people, I will leave it up to you as if you would wish Seregon to remain.”

I stood immediately. “If it so pleases you, my lord, I will await you in your office,” I said to Aldamir.

He waved me back to my chair. “That will not be necessary. If this concerns the realm then you will be informed of the matter anyway. As for the personal nature, then the same reasoning most likely stands.”

I sat back down, though not without reservations. Stealing a glance at him, I saw that his body was taut and rigidly straight as he waited for whatever the king wished to discuss. I knew I was uneasy. I had no idea what this was about, but I would not have had Aldamir feel uncomfortable with my presence. While we shared many confidences, there were areas of a personal nature that even two as close as we did not discuss.

“Very well,” Thranduil sighed, rubbing his temple firmly with two fingers. “I would not broach this subject save for the concerns of the queen. If this were only of a personal nature, then I would most likely not venture into this discussion at all, but as it is, there is the possibility that what she senses somehow ties into the safety of my people. I cannot take such a chance.”

Aldamir nodded slowly as he tightened his grip on the arms of his chair.

“The queen feels the maiden, Elenna, her adar, Sordien, and Calendon are hiding something,” the king said in a slow placement of each word as if he were letting each one go by force. “She senses something that they have knowledge of but are guarding closely. She feels no malice in them, but she is concerned that they are so readily concealing some truth from us.” Thranduil let a low breath from his lips as he leaned back in his chair. “I do not wish to intrude into your private life, Aldamir, but if there is anything that you have noted that may lead you to believe there is something that concerns the villagers occurring, then I must know.”

Aldamir’s face was neutral, but I could see that he was searching his memory for any word or behavior that could alert him to what clandestine activity there might be afoot.  Once he seemed to arrive at a decision, he said, “I am sorry, my lord, I can think of nothing that has seemed out of place with Elenna or with Sordien. I do not think I know anymore of this matter than you.”

Thranduil nodded, seemingly content with Aldamir’s answer. “I did not suspect that you did. I am comfortable that you would have brought any concerns to my attention.” The king studied his oldest son for a moment. “All I ask of you is to be alert for anything that might seem amiss, and,” he added more pointedly, “for you to remember that this may not be anything that would concern us for any reason, but only something that relates to them personally. You naneth is rarely wrong about what she senses, but not even one as gifted as she can see all. But she is concerned, though I am not certain if her concern springs from the queen or from the naneth. Where the safety of my people is concerned, I cannot dismiss what she feels is important. Where you are concerned personally, I cannot take that lightly either, but your private affairs are your own.”

Aldamir shifted in his seat. “Then you have no objections to Elenna other than your concerns about what Naneth has sensed?”

“I do not object to her at all, Aldamir. She seems a lovely young maiden, and if she brings you happiness, then I can only bless her.” Thranduil tilted his head slightly as I watched and waited with my breath caught in my chest. “Then you are serious about her?”

Glancing down at his hands, Aldamir took a moment before he answered. “I do not know, Adar.  I enjoy her company, and I wish to know her better, but that is all I know at this point.”

A small smile lifted the corners of Thranduil’s mouth. I thought he looked relieved.  “You have not known her very long and only time will tell if you wish to pursue this matter. You have no reason to feel haste.”

“Do you think Naneth objects?” Aldamir asked.

Thranduil shook his head. “Your naneth would like nothing more than to see you happy. Your naneth and I have a good marriage and for us to see all our sons satisfied in their personal lives would indeed be a pleasure. But you should not feel pressured. I trust that when you choose a mate, you will choose wisely. Your naneth’s concerns are merely concerns over something that puzzles her. Otherwise, she finds Elenna a lovely maiden, just as I do.”

“Thank you, Adar,” Aldamir said.

A brighter smile lit Thranduil’s face. “Now go. You will have a long night.”

As we entered Aldamir’s office, his aide, Culalda, jumped to his feet. “Send for Kemen,” Aldamir said, referring to the chief-forester, “and instruct him that I desire to see him immediately.” Culalda nodded and started to go out the door when Aldamir called him back. Aldamir took a piece of parchment from Culalda’s desk and quickly wrote out a note. “See to it that this is delivered to Sordien’s daughter, Elenna.”

“Yes, my lord,” Culalda said as he took the note and disappeared.

“Seregon, do you have the most recent realignments of the troops readily at hand?”

“They are in my office,” I said.

“Get them, then,” he said as he began to pull rolled maps of the northern and eastern forest out of the bins were they were stored. “Seregon,” he said as I reached the door, “do you still have the western map you were using to plot the spiders?”

“Yes, I will bring it.”

He nodded absently as he began to unroll the maps on the large table that sat against the wall for such a purpose.

For over four hours we worked with the forester to locate five easily defensible locations that would be acceptable to the villagers. Kemen scoured the maps looking for areas that were as close to the terrain the villagers were accustomed to as he could find and would afford them easy access to water and game. Three were to the south of the stronghold in the eastern woods, and two were to the north, above the Forest River.

“We will need to begin making preparations as quickly as possible, my lord.” Kemen said. “I am certain I can call on the Elves here to aid in building structures to house those coming, but the number of dwellings we will need will take some time to build. We must start as soon as you can inform us which locations the leaders have chosen.”

“I hope to be able to give you such locations by tomorrow,” Aldamir said. “Thank you, Kemen. Your aid has been invaluable.”

As Kemen took his leave, I was finishing making a list of all the Elves I would need to enlist for various jobs. Evening meal was well past, and we had not yet begun the rearrangement of troops. When I completed the list, I gave it to Culalda. “Make a copy of this list,” I said as I stood to follow Aldamir into his office to begin looking at numbers of warriors that I had no idea where we would find them and still be able to defend our borders.

A knock sounded on the door and when Culalda opened it, I saw a servant holding a linen covered tray. She smiled at me. “My lord, the queen and Lady Noreth have instructed me to bring your evening meals to you.”

I smiled as I thought of how my stomach had been rumbling for the past two hours. Apparently our naneths would not allow us to starve while we were holed up in our duties. My naneth would surely get a hug from me when I saw her next.

Culalda had begun to set our places to dine when Aldamir returned. “I thought I heard some mention of food,” he smiled as he glanced over our fare of fruit, thinly sliced meat, a mixed vegetable dish, and honey bread. “There is enough here to feed a patrol,” he said. “You are welcome to join us, Culalda, or if you wish you may be dismissed. I will not have any further need of your aid tonight. I will have the dispatches ready by morning.”

Culalda straightened from his task of laying out the meal. “Then by your leave, commander, I will go home. I am sure my wife has set aside my meal.”

“Then go. I will see you in the morning,” Aldamir said. “And do offer my apologies to your wife for having kept you so long past evening meal.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will do so,” Culalda said as he gathered a stack of papers and secured them into a drawer.

Once we were seated to eat, I poured our wine and with a sigh of gratitude, took a drink, letting the heady grape brew roll around my tongue. Aldamir also sat back with his wine, looking as if he had turned his thoughts elsewhere. I suspected I knew where his mind was.

“What exactly is going on with you and Elenna?” I asked bluntly.

His attention snapped back to me and for a moment, I thought he looked slightly shocked at the abruptness of either my question or at the sudden jarring from his reverie. Putting his goblet on the table, he took up his fork and knife, stabbed a piece of meat and began to cut it with a little too much vigor. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Propping my elbows on the table, I leaned forward. “You are much more serious about her than you told your adar.”

He stopped cutting his meat and looked at me. Slowly, a smile came to him, but he seemed to check it before it came to true fruition. “I told him the truth. I do not know where this will lead. Perhaps nothing will come of it.”

I snorted softly. “Something has already come of it, would you not say?”

“What are you asking me, cousin?” he said as he popped a piece of meat into his mouth.

“I am asking you if you are in love with her,” I smiled.

For a long moment he chewed thoughtfully. “I cannot say.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“Cannot, I think,” he said. “I have known her for such a short time. And we are from such different backgrounds. I do not know if she would be willing to make the changes that she would have to make to be with me.” He frowned. “Being with me would not be easy. My duty is time consuming and requires much from me. I cannot imagine any maiden would like to be in such a position.”

“You do not think she could adjust to palace life?”

He shrugged. “She is used to the freedom of living in the forest. Simply living here in the community surrounding the stronghold would be a great change, but to take on the responsibilities of being subjected to court daily could be more than she is willing to accept.”

“Does she love you?”

Startled, he sat back. “I do not know.”

“Then guess,” I smiled.

“I cannot,” he protested. “I have no idea what she feels.”

“Do not be obtuse, Aldamir,” I said. “You know if she cares for you or not. How does she act? What does she say? What does she tell you when she kisses you?” The spontaneous smile that sprang to his face could only be called carefree—or completely smitten. If I had not been so well trained by years of service, I would have laughed out right at his expression.

“When she kisses me,” he said, as if savoring the memory like the finest vintage of his adar’s cellars, “it is as if it is the most natural thing in all of Arda. She is not timid or reserved, but kisses me at her pleasure.” His smile broadened. “And when she hugs me, she is like a darting bird that has wrapped her wings about me for a feather of an instant before she darts off to see more of the river or the forest while guiding me along in her wake. And then,” he said softly, “there are times when her kisses awaken a fire in me that leaves me breathless.” He stopped there as if he could not venture to dwell too long on that aspect.

I smiled. “You have answered my question.”

“And what answer have I given you?” he laughed as he took another bite of meat.

I shrugged as I bite a piece of summer-ripe fruit in half, chewing it slowly. “That there is nothing left but the details. Do you think she will stay here?”

“We have not discussed the future,” he said. “I would like for her to stay so that we can get to know one another better, but it would not be an easy decision of her to make. Her family is in the village.”

“Her father’s sister is here. Surely she would welcome her brother’s daughter to stay with her,” I offered.

“Perhaps,” he said. “Even still, I am not sure she would wish to leave her home. Her sister is expecting. And the worries there about protocol are far less than living here in the presence of the king and queen.” He shook his head. “I do not know if she would be willing to leave the ways of her people or her family.” He looked up at me. “I cannot leave mine.”

“She would not ask that of you,” I said.

“I do not think she would, but how can I ask her to do something I am not willing to do?”

“Because you are the heir to the king and his commander,” I said. “You do not have a choice in this matter. You are who you are. She knew that from the beginning.”

“Still,” he said, “it would ask a great deal of her to give up what she loves.”

 I smiled. “She might find that having you all to herself is a just compensation.”

Aldamir returned my smile. “I would like to think that, but I cannot be certain that is enough.”

“Would it be enough for you if you were free to make such a choice?” I asked.

“I am not free to make such a choice, so my answer would not be valid. To say I could do so is easy enough when I know there is no chance that I will have to make that decision.”

I waved my hand through the air. “True enough. But you do want her to stay. If she knew this, she might be more than willing to make such arrangements. You will not know unless you ask her.”

Taking up his goblet again, Aldamir swirled the wine about, watching it as if answers lay within its depths. “I am not sure I can do that,” he said solemnly. “We have not known one another long enough to make a commitment and without one, I feel as if I am being selfish in asking her to move here for my convenience.”

“And hers,” I said. When he said nothing more, I leaned forward to prop my elbows on the table. “Aldamir, I know the time grows near that she will have to go home if for no other reason than to help move her family to a new settlement. When her village is closer, seeing her will not be impossible. None of the sites Kemen has suggested are over a few hours away. Maybe this is not the most desirable solution, but if you are uncomfortable with asking her to stay here, it is one that can work.”

“I suppose,” he said.

“Do not let her slip through your fingers because you feared asking for what you want,” I said. “I think you may find that she will be glad to have you ask her to stay. And if she feels she must return to her family, then she will let you know if she wants you to come to her there. Either way, you have let her know that she is important to you.”

“You are right, I suppose,” he said. “In the end, it is her decision.”

“And you will be taking nothing from her,” I pointed out. “But possibly, you will be giving both of you the opportunity to find out how you feel about one another and whether this will lead to something more.”

“What you say makes good sense,” he said as he leveled his gaze on me. “Then why am I afraid to ask her?”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Because you are obtuse; I have already told you that.”

A short laugh escaped him. “This much is true. I know nothing about courting a maiden.”

“Nor do I,” I said lightly as I scooped up vegetables onto my fork. “But I will say this: I am envious of you, cousin. I would like to find a maiden as lovely as Elenna to teach me. Someday I hope to.”

After a moment of silence, he said quietly, “I was not expecting this.”

“I do not think we ever do,” I said. “To be honest, I have not even given much thought to such matters. At least not long term relationships. But now that we are settled here in the stronghold with our duty, the time seems more opportune. Perhaps it is simply time. Perhaps now is your time.”

“Perhaps,” he said.

“If Elenna does not turn out to be the one you have waited for, then you will still have a better idea of what you want and need. Someday the elleth who will hold your heart will come along and you will be glad to have learned so much about yourself and the mysterious ways of a maiden.”

“And you?” he asked with a taunting gleam in his eye.

“I am open to such,” I laughed, “if she finds me.”

With our meal finished, we moved back to Aldamir’s office to begin rearranging the troops. I was glad for our conversation, and I was pleased that Aldamir was happy with the budding relationship with Elenna. Still, I could not completely forget the queen’s concerns. Lalaith is gifted, but she is not one to intrude into the personal thoughts of others. My understanding is that she senses only truthfulness or deceit, joy or sadness, merely the effect of thoughts or behaviors, not the exact impetus that lay behind them. Though it would not surprise me to find that she possesses a more exacting skill, I have nothing on which to base this supposition. Even if I did not understand her power, I did not doubt it; she is, after all, the queen of all that abides in this forest, from Elf and tree to the smallest field mouse.

As for Aldamir, I wanted only what would bring him happiness. I could only hope that encouraging him was the appropriate course; he was obviously in love with Elenna and would have to deal with his feelings at some point, but I did not want to see him hurt or disappointed if this secret that Elenna and the leaders were holding so close turned out to be something that would interfere in their relationship. Whether the truth was important or not, it would eventually be uncovered. The truth always rides very closely behind deceit. I could only hope this secret was harmless.

“What is your thinking about the troops?” I asked.

“We will pull as few as possible from the border patrols,” Aldamir said as he took the chair behind his desk and flipped open the papers containing the patrol rosters, “but I think we will have to take at least twenty from each one, including the home guard. That,” he said as he glanced up at me, “will only give us sixty, and we must replace the border patrols with at least fifteen to each patrol.”

“There are those among the Elves living nearby who have served in the past. Perhaps we can press them back into service temporarily,” I said.

Aldamir nodded. “I have counted fifty I believe will serve if required. At this point I think I will use those willing to fill in on the borders and muster a few for the villagers’ guard if enough respond to my call. I could also ask the king if we may take eight from his guard. Seven of the Fifteen will be left to rotate their guard and since the king will not be leaving the palace, it should cause no breech in his security.”

I smiled wryly. “You could command them, you know.”

With obvious amusement, Aldamir said, “I have long enjoyed a pleasant relationship with Ohtar. I do not wish to destroy it now. If the king agrees, I will let him tell his captain.”

I laughed, feeling I had every right to find amusement in my commander’s reluctance to interfere in the Fifteen’s affairs since I would no more ruffle Ohtar’s feathers than he. “And what of the games?” I asked. “With this new matter, our time will be limited.” To miss seeing the novices under such circumstances and the chance to spend time in the woods would be ill fortune, but to miss our brothers would be a true disappointment for me.

“We will have to see,” he said. “If all goes smoothly, then perhaps we can spend one night.” A faint smile came to his face. “I would truly hate to miss seeing our brothers, but our first duty is to the safety of the villagers and to the safety of the changing patrols.”

“Indeed,” I smiled. “Then let us finish what we need to do before daybreak. We will be one step closer to a night under the stars.”

Morning was dawning by the time we had shuffled names, counted numbers of warriors and shuffled them again. The plans for feeding the new arrivals in their new home until they could hunt and garden for themselves had been made, as well as the travel provisions for the relocating Elves and the escorting warriors. We would meet in the morning with the king’s steward and butler to secure the rations. The last of the letters had been written for the call for any previous warriors who might be willing to serve. The plans were laid. Now all we needed was the cooperation of two reluctant village leaders.

                                                    Chapter Five: Legolas

“Water,” Daeron muttered, as he stripped and waded into the wide stream where the masters had paused to give us rest mid-morning of the fifth day. Tired, but feeling every bit as grateful as Daeron, I yanked off my tunic and leggings and joined him.

The water was warmer than usual and it ran low over the rocks in a lethargic flow to where it joined the Forest River further to the south, but it was water: wet and welcome. I heard no complaints about the quality of the stream from my fellow novices as I ducked under the shallow depths and scrubbed my hands through my hair, enjoying the feel of washing away nearly a week’s worth of grime and sweat. Bathing had been low on the masters’ priority list as they drove us from one exercise to another, but I suspected they finally gave us pause to truly wash because we had become so unbearable to be around that they feared a band of orcs might mistake us for some of their fellows and seek to join us. No matter the reason we had been given a chance to clean up, I was grateful. From the contented talk around me, I would say that all the novices were happy for this moment to rest and bathe. Not knowing when we would be summoned again with a surprise command, we all washed with a quick glee.

As I slogged out of the stream, I went to where Daeron was drying off with the tunic he had just removed. After rambling about in my jumbled pack, I pulled out a pair of leggings and stepped into them without bothering to dry; I would let the water that soaked into them dry slowly to help keep me cool. Daeron had removed his dirty clothes from his pack and eyed them with disgust. “Would you mind washing out my undergarments while you are doing yours?” he asked, his eyes still fixed firmly to the smelly, dirty pile.

I gave him a deserved look of horror and dipped an undershirt of my own into the stream. “I would not touch them,” I snorted. “They should be burned.”

“What to wear?” he mused as he looked each article of clothing over carefully. “Ah,” he crooned, “my cleanest dirty clothes.” Shaking out the least offensive of his dirt-encrusted and sweat-stiffened things, he pulled on leggings and tossed a tunic and undershirt to the side to put on later. As he plunged a tunic into the water, he grimaced and picked it up with two fingers. “You are right; they should be burned.”

“And they most likely will be once we return home,” I sighed as I scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain on my undershirt.

Slapping his tunic on a rock as if that would offer some friction to aid in cleaning it, he looked at the dripping garment with a lopsided frown. “I cannot imagine the palace laundry doing these.” He glanced at me with a look of mischief on his face. “No one is that devoted to the king’s household.”

“Not even our naneths,” I agreed.

Over the splashing and light conversation, I heard Belas say something I did not completely make out, followed by a snort of laughter from his companions. Daeron punched me lightly on the shoulder and nodded to where Alar and Barahir were emerging from the stream just past where the older novices were washing out their clothing. Barahir’s face was flushed and his jaw was clinched. Alar merely turned his gaze to the ground and kept walking.

 “I am going to have to hurt Belas,” Daeron snapped. “Why will he not leave Alar alone? He is making himself look like a fool, and he is embarrassing Alar.”

“We will just have to ignore him,” I said. “Alar, especially, will have to turn a deaf ear.”

“You keep saying that, but he is harder to ignore than Dol Guldur,” Daeron said, turning back to his wash.

“We cannot get involved in this in a way that will cause problems,” I reminded him.

“Then what do we do, Legolas?” he asked. “Just allow him to use Alar for target practice?”

I sat back on my heels and watched as Alar and Barahir moved further down the stream away from the older novices. “No, I do not mean that,” I said. “I mean that we will have to choose carefully how we support Alar and not let anger take us. That would only cause us to get into trouble and would solve nothing.” I turned my attention back to my wash. “We will have to find a way to help Alar stand up for himself.”

Daeron snorted. “Alar is not likely to take on Belas in a fight. Belas would drum him into the ground like a rickety fence post. Alar may be shy and a little small for his age, but he is not dumb.”

“Of course not,” I said. “But there are other ways to stand up to Belas without getting beaten to a pulp.”

“Such as?” Daeron asked.

“I do not know exactly,” I said. “There has to be a way for Alar to make Belas his friend rather than his tormentor.” I slid my gaze to Daeron. “He could just talk to Belas and treat him like a friend. Perhaps then, Belas would see that he is really a very nice person who needs his friendship instead of his scorn.”

Daeron tossed the tunic he had been sloshing around in the water over on a rock to dry. He then peeked into my pack and asked, “Did you stow some of your Adar’s Dorwinion in there?” He snorted as he slumped back onto his heels. “You must be mad. Belas decide to just be friends? He is not happy unless he is ripping someone into kindling.”

“He seems to get along with the novices of his group,” I pointed out.

“That is only because he knows that any one of them could bind, gag and hang him from a tree with one hand tied behind them…and while singing the Lay of Luthien,” he said shaking his head. “I can just imagine the ridicule he would heap on anyone he sees as his lesser if they tried to befriend him. I do not think he understands anything but the hard cold fist of reality.”

Finished with my wash, I sat down to pull on my boots. “Daeron,” I said pointedly, “do not get into a scuffle with Belas. Aldamir and Seregon would be very angry. That is not even to mention what Adar would have to say. And then you would have to consider what the consequences would be from the masters. Unpleasant would not even begin to describe what would happen.”

Tossing the last of his garments on the rock next to mine to dry, Daeron dropped down next to me. “I am not going to get into a fight with the dumb beast. That would be unfair.” He smiled. “He might be large and quick, but he is mentally unarmed. He would not stand a chance.”

I laughed. “You would have to be quicker on your feet than you are with your mouth, cousin. I grant that you could take him verbally, but if you slowed dodging him for even a second, you could live to regret it.”

A slow mischievous smile slid slowly over Daeron’s face. “That gives me an idea,” he mused.

“What?” I asked, cautiously, knowing well that calculating look in his eyes.

“I am thinking. I am thinking,” he said as he lay back against the rock to turn his face to the sun.

“Oh, no…” I groaned.

Our wash had nearly dried under the oppressively hot sun when the masters called us. I noticed that they had all bathed and changed too. I supposed they had had enough of dirt and sweat and had also taken advantage of the stream. Melda motioned us to circle around him. “I will divide you into two groups. Two separate trails have been left. Each group will locate their trail and follow it to the end. Belas, you will captain today.” A satisfied smile came to Belas’s face, and I cringed against the hope that I would be spared from being under his command. Melda called out the remainder of Belas’s patrol and much to my chagrin, my name was called. When Alar’s name was called too, Daeron caught my eye and gave me a faint crooked smile. Tarior, Nouren and Kama were also in our group. I trusted that the three of them would offer some balance to Belas’s nasty disposition. Melda appointed Barahir to captain the other group and sent us on our way. I nodded to Daeron as our groups broke to begin seeking out our trails. He tilted his head slightly in response and disappeared into the woods.

Before we had begun to search in earnest, Belas summoned us to him. “Kama, you and Tarior will partner. Legolas, you will partner with Alar. Nouren, you are with me,” he said. “Do not stray beyond calling distance. Now go.”

The trees in this area of the forest are particularly dense with the undergrowth being sparse with so little light filtering to the forest floor. The one redeeming factor of such thick coverage was that it was much cooler. Alar and I took the search area to the west, moving slowly through the trees looking for some sign that someone had passed that way. More leaves than usual had fallen from the summer foliage in the hot, arid days that had gone on at this point for nearly two months. Finding a trail with so much debris littering the floor, took all our concentration.

Twenty minutes or so into our search, we heard the whistle to our south that sounded to tell us the trail had been spotted. Alar and I moved in that direction. Once again, we were well within site of the other four of our group. Taking a direct line from the disturbed leaves that showed us our first clue, we looked for further evidence.

For over an hour we tediously followed the well-disguised trail. Then all marks simply disappeared. As frustration grew in our group, we backtracked to nearly where we had seen the last signs and began again. Alar was completely silent as he searched to my left. At the edge of a small stream, I saw him bend low to inspect the bank. He stood up and with a smile on his face, motioned me to him. “Look here,” he said. “Two people have passed this way.”

“I will call the others,” I said as I clapped him on the shoulder.

 Belas stalked up to us like an angry boar charging his enemy. The pleased smile that Alar had worn earlier disappeared as he took a deep breath and pointed to the stream. His voice was soft as he said, “This rock has been disturbed recently. Do you see the frog moss on it?” he asked. “That kind of moss does not grow above the water line.” He bent over and pointed to the askew rock. “The rock is tilted so that the moss is now partially above the water line. Someone has recently stepped on it to cross the stream.” He stood and pointed to the opposite bank. “There is a footprint in the soil where someone landed. And there,” he redirected his finger to point at another place a few yards down the bank. “Another person landed in the cover of the leaves. There are two of them.”

Belas frowned. “How do you know these tracks were not made by animals?”

“Animals wearing boots?” Nouren laughed.

Belas shot him an annoyed look.

“There are no animals living in this part of the forest that would be large enough to upend a stone of that size,” Alar said cautiously.

“And there are the footprints,” Nouren said seemingly unfazed by Belas’s irritation.

“We have been following the trail of only one up until now,” Belas said.

“I think another person must have joined the one we have been tracking.” Alar turned to stare down the stream. “If we backtracked that way,” he said, “I think we would find the other person’s tracks leading here.”

With a blank expression that was easier to read than a scroll, Belas waded into the shallowest part of the stream. “Come,” he ordered. As he came to the opposite bank, he barely glanced at the faint toe outline of a boot and began again searching for the next track. I fell in beside Alar and gave him a smile of reassurance. A weak smile tilted his mouth.

For a quarter of a league we traveled west, following the tracks of two people until we saw signs that they had stopped, shuffled about and then split. One went to the southwest and the other to the northwest. Belas pointed to Alar and me. “Follow the tracks there,” he said, indicating the ones to the north. “Kama and Tarior, track to my and Nouren’s right. We will take the southwest track.”

I nodded, but could not help but feel that Belas had sent Alar and me on the trail he felt would be the least successful one. Still, any captain would investigate the alternate trail; I simply felt he intended to remove Alar from the possibility of leading us to our destination.

Alar moved quickly over the signs of bent twigs, shuffled leaves and obvious prints until again, the trail simply vanished. Standing to his back, I could feel his concentration as he scanned the ground and the trees. A smile crept onto his lips. “An Elf,” he said as his smile broadened even more. “We knew that, of course, but the trees are happy and content and tell of having had an Elf in their boughs.”

I smiled back. “Then our wily master has taken to the trees?”

“If the trees are to be believed,” he said as he caught hold of a low branch and swung upward.

I laughed as I followed his lead. “Do you think the masters can persuade the trees to lie to us?”

Alar laughed too, and bent to look at a small suckling that was bent gently against its natural growth. “I do not think the trees will lie for anyone. Deception is not in their nature.”

“I suppose such a thing would never occur to them,” I agreed as I followed closely behind Alar as he jumped to a neighboring oak. He made no further comment as his concentration had shifted once again to his duty. And I was simply awed by his ease of communication with his surroundings and his ability to almost instinctively follow a trail.  I think I would have eventually discerned the change of the trail to the trees, but I do not think I would have caught the adjustment as quickly as Alar did. He was one of the fastest trackers I had ever seen among the novices.

Within a quarter of an hour, Alar had found where our prey had left the trees and returned to the ground. From there, he nearly ran as he followed the course of the tracks. I felt as if I were doing nothing more than watching his back as he focused so wholly on his task. He did not seem aware of much else. While this trait was to be admired, such negligence of awareness could also prove fatal. I imagined the masters would note this about Alar and help him balance his concentration with the need to maintain alertness of more than merely his trail.

The tracks took a sudden turn to the east and as we began to follow, we heard the others of our group coming toward us. Alar stopped and listened. “I think the tracks we are following simply double back to rejoin the other trail. And both will then lead off to the southeast.”

“We should just sit down here and wait on the others,” I offered. “That would kill them to think we had gotten ahead.”

Alar’s eyes widened. “We cannot stop tracking.”

“I was only joking, Alar,” I said. “Lead on.”

Within minutes, we were face to face with the other four. “Our trail doubles back to join with yours just over there,” Alar said as he pointed in the direction to where we had found the tracks merge exactly as he said they would.

Belas’s cheeks flushed and his mouth set into a hard line. He said nothing, but turned and went in the direction Alar had indicated.

As all the others passed us, Alar slowed and looked down at the ground. “I have to learn to remain silent,” he said softly.

I stopped and grabbed his arm. “No,” I said, “you do not. Our job was to track and you did this. You have nothing to apologize for, nor do you have anything to hide. Your skills are something to be proud of, Alar. You have obviously worked hard to learn the ways of the forest.”

He nodded slowly. “I have spent a lot of time in the forest.” A small smile lifted his mouth. “I love being alone in the woods, watching the animals and seeing what they do. The trees are comforting, and I have always felt they welcome me.”

Suddenly, I was struck with how lonely Alar must have felt all these years. I could not recall him ever being with a group of friends or even having one particularly good friend with whom he shared his time. He and Barahir often partnered in our exercises, but I did not know if that relationship extended to their free time. “You are indeed a friend to the forest,” I said. “You will one day be the best tracker in all of Mirkwood.”

Alar flushed faintly and started after the others. I fell in beside him as the two of us brought up the rear.

When Belas lost the trail, we fanned out again. Only minutes passed before Alar had located it. “You tell them that you found it,” he whispered to me.

“Why?” I asked. “Belas will just have to live with it that you can out track him blindfolded.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Be proud of who you are, Alar. Do not let Belas make you feel inadequate.”

“I know I can track,” he said. “I do not fear being seen as inadequate in this, but Belas sees nothing but my other shortcomings. And he delights in pointing them out to everyone.” He shook his head. “I do not wish to bring any attention to myself when he is around.”

I smiled. “I think it is too late to worry about everyone knowing that you are such a good tracker. Now, take credit for what you have done.  I will call them.”

As the group gathered around us, Alar hesitantly pointed out the trail.

“Well, are you not the last hope for Elves everywhere?” Belas snapped.

Alar sucked in his breath and took a step back.

“That is not fair, Belas,” I said. “His job is to track, just like mine and yours. If he is proficient then that is something we should be grateful for. He will lead us to the destination long before the other group. In the long run, his skills make you, as captain, look quite good.”

Belas whirled around to face me. “What do you know, Thranduilion? In your pampered little life, you would not know a deer track from an orc’s boot.”

 “I know an orc’s rear end when I see it,” I snapped without thinking.

Nouren stepped forward and placed his hand on Belas’s arm. “This is not getting us any closer to our objective.” He turned to Belas. “You are in command. Tell us how you wish for us to proceed.”

Belas jerked his arm from Nouren’s grasp and flung it outwards. “We will go this way,” he said, indicating the place where Alar had found the merged tracks.

Alar glanced at me and hung his head. Angry with myself for being drawn into Belas’s ill humor as much as I was angry with Belas, I thought perhaps Alar was right and I should also remain silent.

We had not gone far, when Alar suddenly stopped and whispered to me. “Listen! They are ahead.” His eyes widened. “I think they are hiding.”

Despite Alar’s intent to remain unheard by anyone but me, Belas swung around. He stood perfectly still for a moment and then came toward us. “Everyone get into the trees. This is a trap.”

Once in the trees, we moved silently ahead until we could see the other novices and the masters hunkered down in a shallow ravine waiting on us to follow a trail that would lead us in front of them. I smiled to myself. There would be a surprise attack all right, but the surprise would be for them. A particular thrill ran through me as I sighted Daeron lying low with his practice orc sword. Even the masters were armed with the thick, practice orc blades. None wore quivers or carried bows. Plainly, they thought to overwhelm us with numbers as they attacked us on the ground.

Belas motioned us to a position overlooking them from behind. Our real arrows were secured in our quivers by a cloth with a cord tied about them. In the event they were needed, all that was required to release them was a tug on the cord and the cloth came free. Our practice arrows were kept in separate compartment in our training quivers. They remained free and at our disposal.

We took our bows and with one last check that no real arrows would be pulled in the heat of the battle, we nocked our padded arrows and awaited Belas’s command to attack.

When he was satisfied with our position, he thrilled the call to commence. I targeted Daeron, but he was far too quick. He moved immediately upon hearing Belas’s whistle and my arrow bounced on the ground. Only one novice had been hit and he lay where he had been felled. The others scrambled to hide behind trees, stepping out or running between trees only enough to draw another volley. They intended to make us use up our supply of arrows and take to the ground.

Belas motioned to Kama and Tarior to circle around behind them.  A small padded dagger flew through the air and struck Kama in the chest. He made a huffing sound as he looked down at the chalky, clay stain pinpointing where he had been hit and sat down on the branch where he was. Tarior dodged another dagger sent his way and moved to a branch behind the tree. I released my arrow toward Ambar when he showed himself to throw the dagger at Tarior. My arrow caught him in his stomach. He smiled and sat down, rubbing where he had been hit.

Moving constantly, I continued to shoot at the ‘orcs’ as they surfaced to draw our bolts. Much to my satisfaction, I hit Findo. Daeron had escaped my aim for the time being as he slipped in and out of view, moving to the south of where I was weaving in and out of branches. My arrow supply was nearly spent. I glanced to Belas and saw that his quiver held only two practice arrows.  Pulling my last one, I nocked it as I leapt to another branch. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a dagger sailing in my direction. I twisted to the side, flattening my back against the trunk of the tree as it flew past me. Sliding further around the trunk to gain cover, I positioned myself and darted out to let loose my last arrow. A stunned Moralendi dropped to sit on the ground.

At that moment, Belas’s whistle to take to the ground came. I stowed my bow and leapt to the ground as I drew my practice sword. I much preferred the use of long knives to the sword, but the masters made the decision regarding which blades we would use. On this day, we all carried broad swords. Alar came quickly to my back and we engaged the first of the enemy.

Haluil charged me. His sword came down hard and fast to meet mine. I rolled his blade downward while he pushed against mine to try and break my guarded stance so he could slash at my middle. Dancing back, I let my blade roll again, until his sword was pushed off to my right. He slowed only enough to redirect his motion until he was swinging again at my waist. I blocked his blow, this time getting my blade under his while keeping mine straight. While his arms were extended upward, I advanced to drive my blade to his chest. He nodded and sat down.

I whirled around to find Alar struggling to hold back a determined Derion. I had only a second because I saw Daeron charging at me with a look of gleeful anticipation in his eye. I used that second to jab Derion in the side and whirled to meet my cousin.

Our blades met with a dull clang. Daeron withdrew and again brought his blade down hard and fast as he advanced to try and throw me off balance. I twisted to the side, his blade catching only the air of where I once stood. As I swung my sword in a tight arc toward him, he continued his swing to block my blow. We grappled for a moment as he pushed his weight against me in a show of brute strength. I could not push him off me entirely and could only hope to hold my ground until he broke. When he could not free his sword in our draw, he shoved me once more and backed away. I waited for him to strike again, hoping that as I defended, he would have to make a wide enough arc of his blade that I could come in under it. I could almost hear his blade break the air as he swung in a wide, fast arc at me. My blade caught under his and I could see at that moment that he knew he had walked into my trap. As I pushed his blade up, he tried to adjust, but it was too late. With his arms flung to the side from my blow, I pivoted to the side and ran my sword straight in to his chest. He made a disgusted face at me and sat down. At that point I realized that there was no one left to charge me. The last pair of Galdor and Nouren was still engaged in a heated battle. Leaping over Daeron, I stabbed toward Galdor, but his blade came back and blocked my blow, but as he defended against me, Nouren finished him.

Melda stood and clapped Nouren on the back. “The last Elves standing! Very good. Everyone did well.” He motioned to the ones on the ground. “Come, we will make camp here tonight and after we have eaten, we will discuss this day’s exercises.”

I turned and extended my hand to Daeron. He took it and pulled himself to his feet. “I cannot believe I lost to you with a blade,” he grumbled. With a lopsided grin on his face, he shook his finger at me. “And I would not have lost if I had been allowed to fight using my own style. Orcs fight like oafs!”

I laughed as I sheathed my sword. “I am glad I met you as Daeron, the orc. Daeron, the Elf, would have taken me in half the time it took me to stop you.”

Daeron held his ‘orc’ sword by two fingers as if it were something particularly odorous. “You would have done better than that, but at least, I would have had a fighting chance.”

“But you would have still bested me,” I said as we walked over to get our packs and start setting up camp.

He grinned. “Yes, I would have.”

                                            Chapter Six: Aldamir

As I sat listening to the king tell the village leaders that the time to debate relocation had passed, for a moment I wished to be a novice again. Instead of trying to maintain a flagging diplomacy in dealing with reluctant villagers, I would be training in the forest like my youngest brother and cousin. Those days were long past me and in truth, there were many things about that age that I would not wish to endure again, but there were also days when I wished to place duty into someone else’s hands and simply be a wood-elf enjoying his land and his family.

No matter my discomfort, my duty to my king and his subjects was not debatable. The risk of alienating Elenna’s father concerned me in this matter, but there was no choice in this to be made by me; I am also my king’s subject. The safety of the villagers outweighed any personal considerations I might have had.

As fortune would have it, very little protest was lodged against the king’s command to relocate. Kemen, the forester, showed Sordien and Calendon the sites we had chosen on the large detailed map that covered nearly all the northern wall of the king’s council chamber. When he had finished, I explained as clearly as possible the defensive reasoning for choosing these areas of the forest. With what I thought looked like a sad resignation, Sordien and Calendon acquiesced to the king’s wishes, each indicating which area they found most suitable. By the end of the meeting, I felt the village leaders were secretly relieved to have the king remove the decision from their hands.

As I followed the king out of the council chamber, I motioned to Culalda where he stood waiting for me. “Send for the king’s steward and the king’s butler.” These two would know the most about what provisions could be gathered for the villagers for the trip and for when they arrived at their new home.

Adar stopped and faced me. Weariness had settled on his features, and I wondered if he ever second-guessed himself in what he decreed. I did not believe there was an alternative at that point, and he had made the only reasonable decision, but this order would change the lives of over three-hundred and fifty Elves. He did not take this lightly, I knew. “Have the escort ready as quickly as possible,” he said.

“I have sent word to the border patrols for warriors to be sent home, my lord,” I said. “And I have requested assistance from former warriors. There should be nearly eighty warriors for the escort if I receive the response I expect. Some of the former warriors I will send to the borders. Unless unforeseen circumstances arise on the borders, I should have the entire escort mustered and the border patrols close to full complement within the week.”

“Very well,” Adar said. He turned as if to leave, but stopped and looked at me thoughtfully. “Aldamir, what have you decided about the novices? Are you certain they are safe?”

At this point, I had no reason to believe that the novices were endangered. But I continued to be uncomfortable not knowing where the red-banded spiders were. “Seregon and I will make our visit to view the games tomorrow. If the spiders are still unaccounted for, I will order them back.”

Adar watched me silently for a moment, and I could feel his rising concern for the young and untried novices. I felt that he had not been entirely pleased that I had not already called them in, but he had said nothing to oppose my decision. I shared in his concern, enough that I would go personally to recall the novices. “I will leave this in your hands,” he said, but I did not miss the import of what he did not say.

Placing my hand over my heart, I bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

When I reached Culalda’s outer office, I was greeted by the tallest Elf I have ever known. Unfolding his frame gracefully from the chair where he had been seated, he placed his hand over his heart and bowed. “My lord,” he said, “I have received word that my king is in need of warriors.”

I could not help the pleased grin that broke out on my face. “Indeed, you have heard correctly,” I said. A smile that looked as natural on him as the dark hair of his head lit his entire face. In one step, he reached out to clasp arms with me in a warrior’s greeting. Such formality lasted for only a few seconds before he drew me into a full hug that felt as if I had been embraced by a bear. “Tree, I cannot breathe,” I protested from where my nose was buried into his thick shoulder.

He only laughed harder, took me by the shoulders and pushed me away to peer down on me as if I were still a child. “You have not grown at all since last I saw you,” he roared.

“I am afraid that this is it, old friend. Everyone appears stunted next to you,” I said to this Elf whom everyone simply called Tree. At one time, he had served with the King’s Fifteen. Before serving Adar, he had served at Oropher’s side as one of his guards. The orc who felled my grandfather was cut to ribbons by the forceful, swift blade of this warrior. At times, I had wondered if Tree ever truly recovered from Oropher’s death. After Adar was crowned, he had remained in service for many years, but I suspected the toll of that long ago war lingered, until finally, Tree requested to be released from his duties. For the most part, he seemed to spend his days in solitude among the trees. Rarely did he venture back to the stronghold, but I had heard from time to time that he had been seen in an outlying village. Still, no matter where he went, he carried with him the smile he was known for and the burden of an underlying sorrow of an Elf who had seen too much.

He snorted. “If this is all you can manage, then I must speak to the cook. I will not have the king’s first born looking like dwarf.”

“You may speak all you like, but I do not think more food will increase anything but my girth,” I laughed.

Tree shook his head sadly. “I can see that I am needed here. What is required that you would disturb the golden days of an old warrior’s life?”

“I need your sword and bow, old friend,” I said, motioning to my office. “Come and I will tell you.”

Once I had completed telling Tree of our needs, he nodded slowly. Stretching out his long legs as far as possible while seated in front of my desk, he said solemnly, “I am at the king’s service and place myself under your command.”

“Thank you, Tree,” I said, feeling a genuine sense of relief to have him on my side. “It is good to have you back. The king will be pleased. And,” I added, “I know exactly where you will be most needed.”

His eyes nearly glowed with anticipation as he leaned slightly forward. “Then tell me, little one--pardon me, my lord—what would you have me do?” The grin on his face was infectious.

I smiled back, thinking what a unique and indomitable Elf this one was. Never would he be unintentionally disrespectful; with him, his disrespect was intentional and given with a great smile of unerring support that the recipient of his jesting was sure to recognize. “There is not another living creature who would dare call me little one, save my parents when wishing to put me in my place and you, for no apparent reason,” I said with a feigned menacing tone that was certain to be entirely ignored by Tree.

“Then it is fortuitous that I am back for you need me to remind you that I have changed your cloths when you were a babe,” his smile grew wider, “and wiped your Adar’s nose as he learned the ways of a woodland warrior.”

“I would not bring that up with him, if I were you,” I laughed.

Tree threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Your adar knows that I would die to protect him and his. He knows I would crawl if needs be to do his bidding. I need not fear one whom I know as well as him. Or you, Thranduilion. I would follow you even until the ends of Arda.”

A sudden surge of comfort and safety filled me. “You are a blessing to this realm and to my family, Hîrorn Huorion. Welcome home.”

“Enough of this!” he said, waving his hand. “Tell me what you wish me to do.”

We sat together as I explained the division of the troops as I had set them. “I will send those that I can from the former warriors to watch the borders, but I would keep back a few to aid in seeing the villagers safely moved. You, I will appoint to captain one-quarter of the warriors.”

“And you, my lord, will you travel with us?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I will travel with the leaders’ party that is returning to the village. Calendon and Sordien will stay behind to work with the foresters and carpenters in beginning to build their new homes. Seregon will take charge of the warriors who will scout and guard to the front. I will command the rear guard. Celelion will captain the remaining quarter.”

He gave me slightly puzzled look. “You and Seregon will both be gone from the palace?”

I nodded. “Yes, if the king does not object to both his commanders beginning absent from our offices.”

“I see,” he said. Obviously he knew as well that this issue could meet with opposition from the king. “Then this is Sordien’s and Calendon’s villages in the western woods?” he said.

“Yes. The spider situation is out of control. We will move both villages closer into the protected woods.”

“The spiders,” he said as he drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I have seen them. And I might add, decreased their numbers as best I could.” I smiled. I would have expected nothing less. “But I noted something unusual in my travels.”

“What is that?” I asked.

“As of late, I have encountered large numbers of them dead. I could see no sign of arrow or blade, and it would be unlike warriors to not burn the remains. I found the bodies were dry and brittle as if they had been dead for a long time, but the rate of decay was not consistent with what I would expect of a body left to the elements. The weather is hot and decay is more rapid at such times.”

I nodded. “I have received similar reports from Farendi and from Erelas. They have also reported a new kind of spider inhabiting the woods, a larger, more aggressive black spider with a red ring about the chest. Have you seen these?”

“No, I have not,” he said.

“What do you think caused the deaths of the spiders you encountered?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I am not certain. At first I thought it possibly some kind of poison, but I know of no such thing. With the last ones I found, I had begun to wonder if the spiders were feeding upon one another.”

“Erelas and Farendi think the red-banded spiders are feeding on their lesser kin,” I said.

He nodded. “I agree. I saw puncture wounds in a few that I inspected closely. Do they have any idea how many of these banded spiders there are?”

“No. They have been rather elusive thus far with only scant sightings. But if an entire clutch has been hatched, it could range from fifty to a hundred or more.”

“If,” he pointed out, “there is only one clutch.”

I grimaced. “I am trying to be optimistic.”

He sat back. “That area of the forest has become so heavily infested that even I have avoided it for some time now. I do not doubt that we will encounter spiders on our way to the villages and on our way back.” He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps we will find this mysterious banded menace. I would personally like to send a quiver full of arrows through their thick hides.”

“I would like to find them too,” I said. “Let us hope that we will outnumber them.”

“Indeed,” he said. His face brightened. “Speaking of numbers, have you been down to the home guard hut this morning?”

“No,” I answered.

“Then you should take an opportunity to drop by and see for yourself,” he smiled.

“See what?” I asked.

“A reunion of past warriors is in progress. I would say there are over fifty armed warriors awaiting your command.”

My heart leapt with gratitude. “The king will be gratified to know that such loyalty remains among those whom we regard so highly.”

“Indeed, it does,” he smiled.

A soft knock sounded on my door and Culalda entered when I responded with leave. “The steward and Galion are here to see you, commander.”

“I will be right with them,” I said, standing.

Tree stood to leave. “By your leave, my lord, I will go to the home guard office and await word.”

“Go,” I smiled. “I will be there as soon as possible.” I watched as he left, feeling much less weighted by the problems of the forest. Fifty warriors! We would be able to take care of the villagers and see to our borders with relative ease. And if things broke out the way I swiftly calculated in my head, I would not need to enlist the help of the Fifteen. I could not have been more pleased. I motioned to Culalda to send in the steward and the butler. As soon as I told them of our needs, I would go and see these warriors for myself.

By the time I was free to go to the home guard hut, the time for the midday meal was quickly approaching.  As an afterthought, I stopped by Adar’s office to see if he had broken from hearing morning petitions to tell him the good news about the additional warriors. I found him in his office.

“You look rather pleased with yourself, iôn-nín,” Adar said as he motioned me to a chair.

“The news is indeed good,” I said and relayed to him what Tree had told me.

Adar looked as if he released a great breath he had been holding and smiled. “That is gratifying to hear. Then you have all the arrangements in order?”

“Yes,” I said and went on to explain the shifting numbers of the border patrol and ended with the breakdown of how the escort would function.

Adar quietly contemplated me while he tapped softly on his desk with his fingers.  “You and Seregon will both be a part of this party?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord,” I replied, prepared to defend my decision if this became necessary.

“Who do you plan to leave in charge here?” he asked.

“I have not made that choice yet, but I will have this in place before we undertake the mission.”

“Is there any particular reason that you feel that both you and Seregon are required to make this trip?” he asked.

“The travel safety of the villagers is of utmost importance,” I said. “I feel that there is no better scout available than Seregon. He is skilled and governs those under his command with foresight. Seregon is a careful and thorough scout. There is no one whom I have more confidence in to do this job.”

Adar continued to eye me with scrutiny. “I agree that Seregon is among the best scouts this realm has to offer.” His eyes narrowed. “And what of you? Is there no one you trust to see to the leaders’ party’s safety? Or is there a particular reason that you have chosen this duty?”

Though I had been prepared to explain why I made the choice for Seregon and me to be a part of this warrior party, I had not prepared for Adar to consider that I was making this choice for personal reasons. I bristled slightly at the implication. “Are you asking me, my lord, if I am assigning myself for personal reasons?”

“Yes,” he said, his gaze never wavering. “I am.”

“I admit that I am concerned for Elenna’s safety,” I said carefully, “but my personal desires are not a consideration in how I make decisions regarding the safety of your people.”

“Her safety is important,” the king agreed. “But if this is not why you are taking yourself from your post, then what is it that you feel warrants your presence?”

“The village leaders have consented to your will, my lord,” I said. “Though I believe that the majority of the villagers will do as their leaders bid, I expect that there will be some who will not be pleased. I would see none left behind; the danger is too great. My presence, as your son and as your commander, should help them understand that your decision was not made lightly or without thought for the burden this move will place upon them. My presence, I think, will demonstrate your commitment to them and will also demonstrate to them that this issue is important enough to you to send your son to see to their safety.”

Again, Adar studied me. At last, when I had come to think that he was indeed displeased with my choices, he nodded slowly. “Your reasoning is sound, and you are wise to consider the importance of your presence. You do represent me, and I am pleased that you take this responsibility seriously.” Relief washed over me. Adar tilted his head as he watched my reaction. “Aldamir, being concerned for Elenna’s safety is important to you. I do not object to this concern. I have escorted your naneth when I have had similar worries. This is certainly not something I could fault you for. As someone you care about, her risks are increased. I see nothing that makes me think your duty suffers for your feelings for her.” He rubbed his temple briefly and then let his hand drop. “Balancing personal life and duty can be challenging, but if she understands the importance of what is required of you, then such a relationship can not only be manageable, but it can also bring you great joy. You have not told me how serious you are about Elenna, but if I know my son, and I think I do, then I think you care deeply for her. Before you commit your heart to her, be certain that she understands how much is required of you. Her support will make the difference in how happy you will be.”

Caught off guard, I simply sat silent and still.

“Elenna has no experience with living in court,” he said. “My advice to you is to allow her ample time to decide whether living under such scrutiny and security as this family does will suit her.”

“Do you have concerns about what Naneth has sensed?” I asked.

“I have not dismissed her concerns, if that is what you are asking me,” he said, “but at this particular moment, my concern is for you. I do not wish to see you disappointed. I urge only caution. Any maiden you should wed will carry a heavy burden. Much will be asked of her.” He smiled. “And from you. You will also have to be prepared to see to her needs so that she is not neglected. A husband has equal responsibility in supporting his wife.”

“I understand,” I said.

Adar smiled with what looked to me like one of the indulgent smiles I recall from my childhood. “When love first blooms, iôn-nín, practical matters are of little importance, but I assure you that compatibility will be an issue. If two people understand one another, then love continues to grow. Unfortunately, if unrealistic expectations are all that binds these two, then resentments will flourish.”

“You do not think I have known her long enough?”

“Long enough for what?” he asked. “Long enough to become betrothed? No, I do not. But I am well aware of the fact that every relationship begins somewhere.”

“Adar,” I said, “you said once before that you approve of Elenna. Has something changed your mind?”

“No,” he said slowly. “I still find her a lovely maiden. I think it is you who have changed.”

Surprised, I felt my heart quicken. “I have? In what way?”

He leaned forward to prop his arms on his desk. “It was obvious to me that you were attracted to her, but now I cannot help but think that you begin to see a future with her. I simply want you to take your time, Aldamir. If she is meant to be your wife, then the relationship will withstand the time needed to be certain that this is a good union.”

“I will not do anything foolish, Adar,” I said, feeling somewhat like an errant elfling being scolded by a parent. Perhaps he did not mean it that way and sought to only offer a word of advice, but I was not comfortable having this discussion. “I am not a child,” I said.

Adar dropped back against his chair. “Of course not.  You are a capable commander and a formidable warrior, but you lack experience in the ways of the heart. I do not wish to discourage you from seeking to know Elenna, but I do want you to allow yourself the time to be certain. I would not see you unhappy.”

“Allow myself time to know what Naneth’s concerns are, you mean?” I said, knowing that my voice reflected my irritation.

“Yes,” he sighed. “I have concerns that you are not fully aware of how this hidden truth could affect you. I am concerned that you seem to have completely dismissed your naneth’s sense that something is amiss.”

Heat flooded my face. “If my queen has worries, then I assure you, my lord, I take them seriously. I have not forgotten what she told you.”

“Your naneth has not spoken to you about this?” he asked.

“No, she has not,” I said stiffly. “Has she discerned something beyond what you told me earlier?”

Adar shook his head. “No, Aldamir, but she has the same worries for you as I have. She does not wish to see you disappointed either. Your naneth and I only ask a little caution from you. Even if your Naneth did not have concerns that Elenna and Sordien are hiding something, I would offer you the same advice. Do not let love cloud your ability to see clearly. A mistake in bonding cannot be rectified; be certain that she is who you want and be certain that you will also make a good mate for her.”

“I am cautious, my lord,” I said, emphasizing each word as if my drumming heart had pounded them into a jagged sentence that sounded every bit as angry as I was.

Adar kept his gaze locked on mine. “That is all we are asking of you.”

“You do not approve of me making this trip?”

“That is your decision,” he said. “I have placed you in command, and if I did not trust you, then I would not have done so.”

“Thank you, my lord,” I said crisply. “I will try to not disappoint you.”

Adar sighed. “That is not my concern, iôn-nín.”

Sucking in a breath, I said, “If there is nothing further, then I will go to the home guard hut and greet the assembled warriors.” I stood and bowed. “By your leave, my lord.”

Adar simply nodded.

As I came into sight of the home guard hut, I saw the warriors milling about talking, laughing and reacquainting themselves with one another. I should have felt more lighthearted at this welcome sight, but I was still angered by my conversation with my father. If my parents found Elenna to be unsuitable, then I would have preferred that they had simply told me so instead of skirting the issue with the nonsense about some hidden secret. What exactly was my adar trying to tell me? Was there a problem with Elenna that they did not feel she was appropriate or, I wondered again, was their concern truly that I had not paid this secret its proper due? How could this secret be anything important? Nothing in Elenna’s behavior had given me any reason to doubt her. She was as open as a summer flower. Neither she nor her father seemed the type of person to be involved in subterfuge, and certainly neither would do anything to harm their family and friends in their village. Sordien had been genuinely respectful to the king. I had felt he was reluctant to leave his home, and this was something I could understand, but I could not imagine him involved in some clandestine activity that would bring harm to the king or to the realm. He was simply not the sort of devious person who would plot ruin to another. I slowed my determined march and exhaled.  If they had nothing to hide, then what did the queen sense?

Culalda was busy recording the names of those who would serve. I greeted them and explained the problems facing the villages and what plans I had made. By the end of the day, I told them, I would have assignments made and they would receive orders. The ones going to the borders would leave at first light on the following morning. The remaining warriors would travel with the villagers’ party.

Once the formalities had been dispensed, I wandered among them, speaking to individuals and thanking them for their willingness to serve. To see so many familiar faces did bring me relief. Truly, I was grateful to these seasoned and skilled warriors. There are no more loyal or well-trained warriors in all of Middle-earth than those I had the privilege to greet on that day.

Instead of going to the family dining room for mid-day meal, I went back to my office to being looking over the list Culalda had made. As I began to juggle the names into units, Seregon appeared at my door carrying a linen-covered tray.

“Your naneth sent this,” he said as he placed the tray on my desk.

“Thank you,” I muttered as I went back to my work. When he did not move, I glanced up. “You may go,” I said. Still, he stood in place staring down at me. “Is there something further?” I asked.

“What is going on, Aldamir?” he asked.

“I am arranging the numbers of troops I will send to the borders,” I said.

“I see,” he mused. “But that is not what I meant. What is going on between you and your adar?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“The king seemed a bit annoyed that you did not see fit to join us in the dining room. I get the feeling that you and he are at odds over something. Is there a problem with this mission to see the villagers relocated?”

“No,” I said. “Everything is in order. I simply need to complete all that I can before you and I leave tomorrow to see the novices and recall them.”

“Is the king unhappy that we have taken so long to recall the novices?” he asked.

“No, he has said nothing about this,” I said, growing more uncomfortable with Seregon’s line of questioning, but most of all, I was irritated that he was so perceptive.

“I do not wish to pry…” he began.

“Then do not!” I snapped.

Taking a step back, Seregon looked down at me with a look of surprise on his face. “Then I will take my leave.”

I did not want to talk about my conversation with Adar. To acknowledge that I had been curt with my cousin would require me to make some kind of explanation as to my disposition. Since I had no desire to discuss this any further, I simply nodded.

By sunset, I had taken care of all the troop rearrangements and sent word to the waiting warriors. Everything was in order, but I decided to avoid the evening meal nonetheless. I was still in no frame of mind to confront my parents and their wary looks about my mood and my personal life. At times like this, I wondered at the wisdom of grown children still living within the same walls as their parents. I certainly did not want to be in my mother’s presence. Her perceptions were unnerving enough to me without willingly subjecting myself to her scrutiny. At an early age, I learned to keep my feelings from her ability to sense. Unless I was caught off guard or too emotional to keep them from her, I was adept at hiding what I was feeling. In this instance, I did not feel sufficiently in control of my own anger to trust that I could keep her from knowing where I stood. If I could avoid her, then I would do so until I was in command of myself.

Elenna and I had missed our walk the night before, and she was expecting me on this evening. Dusk was waning as I knocked on the cottage door of Elenna’s aunt. When Elenna came to the door, she greeted me with a smile so radiant that all the troubles of my day vanished as easily as morning fog giving way to the sun. Never would it cease to amaze me how she could steal my breath away. The wafting of a breeze played with the errant tendrils that framed her face, and my hand ached to reach out and brush them aside in what I knew, by then, was a futile effort. Still, I wanted to feel her skin and hair under my fingers.  Her simple gown of pale gold glinted like the rays of the dying sun as she moved. She wore no adornments other than the leaf-shaped clasp that held her hair back from her face. Nothing more was needed. She was more beautiful than any jewel I had ever seen.

After I left my office, I had bathed and changed into a simple blue tunic and leggings. My knife, I kept strapped to my waist. No one ventured into the woods without arms of some kind, not even when only going for a short walk along the river. But without my warrior’s tunic of forest green, I felt as if I were merely a fortunate Elf walking a lovely maiden on a summer outing. For this short time, there would be no protocol of being the king’s son, or the formality of being the commander of the troops. I delighted in the thought of being no one but myself.

Once we were out of sight of the cottages, I took her hand in mine. A warm smile spread over her lips as she turned her face to the sky. “The stars are coming out,” she said. When I did not take my eyes from her, she laughed. “You are not looking.”

“I am more content to look upon you as you watch them light,” I said, tracing the delicate curve of her face with my fingers.

Placing her hand on the side of my face, she smiled again and drew me to her. Our lips touched softly. I felt intoxicated by her nearness and gathered her to my chest so that she was nestled against me. Her body felt right and good next to mine as if she had been created for me alone. I hoped with all my heart that she felt the same. Deepening the kiss, I tasted her sweetness with all the drunken delight of a honey bee finding his most favored flower in which to nestle. My desire for her ached throughout me, not only in body, but in the longing of a spirit that knew there was something more to this existence and had found it unexpectedly beckoning. Despite my heart’s protest, I broke the kiss and took a step back. “You are beautiful,” I whispered, feeling a tingling in my chest that rose up and caught in my throat.

Gentle fingers grazed my face. “As are you, my lord.”

Chuckling happily, I took her hand in mine once more and began to walk. “I do not think it is the same,” I said, feeling greatly relieved that she found me pleasing. “You are truly beautiful, and I am merely a warrior awed by such grace and beauty as we are rarely given a chance to glimpse.”

“I suppose it is a matter of taste,” she said as she tilted her head a little. “I prefer to appreciate you.”

“Then we have come to an understanding; we will just stare at one another,” I laughed.

“Perhaps you will kiss me occasionally,” she said.

“Perhaps,” I responded. I was certain of it. Turning off the path, I led her to another less-traveled course that meandered up behind the small stair-step rock waterfall that was my destination. “Come,” I said, “there is something I want to show you.”  Frilly ferns brushed against our legs, bowing and swaying at our passage as we walked the barely discernable path until we reached a large boulder that jutted out over the falls.  Guiding her, I took her around to the back of the rock to a small clearing filled with a riot of flowers.

“They are beautiful!” she exclaimed as she bent to caress them gently. “What are they?”

“They are mirithil,” I told her, kneeling beside her. “See the different colors? When first they bloom, they are snow white. In a day or two, the centers begin to turn yellow and soon the entire blossom is yellow. From yellow, they turn red, and from red, they turn purple.”

“I have heard of them,” she said. “Do the colors not hold meaning?”

“A single bloom or a small bunch of white is given for gratitude or when asking for forgiveness,” I said. “Yellow is given for happiness or friendship. Red is the color of passion and is given for love. The purple is for commitment. A couple who are bonding will often wear the purple ones to signify their commitment to one another. Often they are combined with the red for love and at times, the yellow, to denote their happiness. The choices depend on what the couple wishes to express and if the flowers hold meaning for them.”

“I have never seen them before,” she said. “My grandmother used to tell me night-time stories about them, but I always thought it was merely a bedtime tale for little elleths who were trying to not go to sleep.”

“She was telling you the truth,” I smiled. “They grow in few places in the northern forest, and we try to protect them from too many blooms being picked. We give them sparingly and only then, when the occasion is right.”

“I would not be surprised to find that the most favored for picking would be the white ones given by husbands who are trying to ingratiate themselves back into the good graces of their wives,” she laughed.

“I imagine you are right,” I said as I plucked one lone yellow bloom and placed it behind her ear. “That is because you make me happy.”

Falling softly to her knees, she took my face in her hands and kissed me softly. “You make me happy, Aldamir.” Taking another yellow bloom from the patch, she tucked it between the fasteners of my tunic. “Very happy,” she whispered.

“Come and see the falls from above,” I said as I took her hand and helped her to her feet. At the top of the falls we sat on the uppermost rock step. Elenna leaned back against my chest. With my arms wrapped around her, I buried my nose in hair, enjoying the fragrance and the softness that was akin to the pleasures of a restful night under the stars.

While I delighted in nuzzling in her hair, her fingers played along my arms, touching cloth and skin, exploring until she reached the slender mithril band on my left arm. “What is this?” she asked as she turned it around my wrist to reveal the complete circle. Lightly gliding her finger across the surface, she scanned the Elvish runes engraved into the band’s surface. “Aldamir Thranduilion,” she said. “That is all that is on it.” 

“It is the mark of a warrior,” I said.

“I do not think I have ever seen them,” she said. “What is their purpose?”

Hesitating for a moment, I sought to find a delicate, but truthful way to answer her. “When one takes his pledge to the king, the queen places the wristlet upon him and marks him as a warrior of the woodland realm.”

Still inspecting the band, she said, “There is no clasp.”

“We do not ever remove them. A warrior may leave the service of the king, but he is forever a warrior. We will wear them until the end of all things for we have served our king and our people faithfully,” I told her.

She turned her head to try and look at me. “What if one does not serve valiantly or faithfully, is it removed?”

“I do not know of that ever happening,” I said. “But only the queen can remove it as she is the only one who can place it upon us.”

“It is quite beautiful in its simplicity,” she said. “Every warrior’s name is borne upon his?”

“Yes,” I said, hoping she would not ask me how these came to be a part of a warrior’s life. After Dagorlad, Adar began this practice. Among our kind, our bodies deteriorate rapidly when death comes upon us. The band will endure.

From her silence, I thought she must have understood the implications of a lasting identifier. With gentle fingers, she covered it again with the sleeve of my tunic and then slowly turned in my arms to face me. For a moment she simply gazed upon my face as if she were memorizing its curves and planes. Slowly she leaned into me and touched her lips to mine.

At first, our lips met gently, but the hunger for one another quickly grew. Soon I was stretched onto the smooth rock with her body extended the length of mine. At every point where her body pressed into mine, I tingled with a heightened awareness I had never known with such sweet intensity. All my senses came alive like a newborn’s first tactile meeting with the world. The heat I felt was new and wonderful, nearly taking all reason and thought from me. All of my muscles tensed as my hips pressed to gain a closer match with hers. My only will seemed to be the will of my body.

Desire flooded me as my heart raced and my breaths came too short. Her lips trailed down my neck and back to my face and mouth as if she were searching for the place she favored most. Much to my surprise, I found I had no objection to being granted the liberty to merely feel.

As her hands pushed under my tunic, the surprise of her touch brought me back to a tenuous hold on sanity. “Elenna,” I whispered.

A sweet sound issued from her as she sought my neck again. From that instant onward, I knew I would freely grant her whatever she desired of me.

I would never ask for anything more than to have her in her my arms, I realized as I ran my fingers over the smooth skin of her back, skin softer than the finest silk. The neckline of her gown gave way to my exploration as I ran my hand along its edge until my fingers dipped into the wonders of her hidden skin. As I rounded her shoulder, she raised enough to give me further access. The fabric gave way to a sweet softness, a roundness of what made her feminine and alluring.  Boldly, I slid my hand underneath her gown until nothing separated her yielding skin from my intimate caresses. A quick breath caught in her throat as my heart pounded with the incredible discovery I had made. By her own hand, she pushed the shoulders of her gown away until the unencumbered pleasure of her bare skin was mine. With quick and nimble fingers she released the fasteners of my tunic and in a moment, we lay bare chest to bare chest. Never had I felt so much at once. A wash of relief came over me as if I had finally found the place where I belonged. But along with this peace came an even stronger desire to make her mine. She was all I wanted for as long as Arda lasted.

Slowly, she kissed my chest, trailing her tender kisses and warm breath from my waist to my shoulders. Retracing her path, her tongue touched my nipple, sending shivers down my spine.

Groaning with frustration, I shifted her body until I could again reach the softness that had been pressed against my chest. Impulsively and driven by a need to know every inch of her, I grasped her waist and pulled her upward until I could take her into my mouth. Moaning like a gentle wind crying through the trees, she braced herself on the rock as I grazed her skin with my tongue and my cheek. So lost was I in being so near her heart that I was startled momentarily when she suddenly pulled away and came back to my lips with a kiss that nearly undid me.

No longer able to catch my breath, I pulled her against me and held her tightly. I closed my eyes tightly, trying desperately to calm my ragged breathing. “Elenna,” I whispered, “I cannot…I will not hurt you.”

She turned her head enough to prop her chin on my chest. “I trust you completely, Aldamir. I would not be here with you…like this…if I did not.”

My heart leapt as filling warmth spread throughout me. I smiled. “I do not want to stop,” I said, “but I do not think I can resist you if we continue.”

Her eyes glistened softly when she smiled at me. “I do not want to do anything we will regret, but I want every second I can have with you. You will leave in the morning, and when you return, I will go home and help my naneth pack. Then I will live in another village and rarely see you.” She reached to my side and picked up the yellow bloom that had fallen from my tunic and handed it back to me. “You bring me such joy that I cannot bear the thought of being parted from you.”

Laying a kiss on the tips of her fingers, I said, “I will miss you, but I promise to come to you as often as I can.” I desperately wanted to ask her to stay, but despite what she had said about not wishing to be parted from me, I could not bring myself to chance that she would refuse, even if for only practical reasons.  The moment was best as it was.

She nodded sadly. “Soon, things will be in order for you to come. And I will hold you to that promise.”

“I promise,” I said as I dropped a rather chaste kiss on the top of her head.

*Mirithil—‘moon-jewels’

                                                     Chapter Seven: Daeron

“How many more days?”  I asked with an exasperated sigh as I trailed along behind Legolas. The masters had kept us moving for days with nearly no rest. Tracking, mock battles and more tracking had filled our every waking minute, and most of the minutes of the last three days had been spent awake. Once again, we were off on a hunt for some elusive trail that would most likely end in another battle with whoever was missing from our group. “I want to sleep in my own bed, and I am tired of eating aewbas,” I complained further.

Legolas snorted and looked up at me where he had bent to look at something that I hoped with all my heart was a track. “A bed? I have heard of those.”

When he got up and resumed looking, I stood for a moment staring at the place he had just been, disgusted that it was nothing. Resolutely, I went back to looking at the ground, moving off to Legolas’s left. With hope, I glanced up to see where Alar was. Nouren was partnering with him on this day, and I caught sight of him up ahead, but I did not see Alar. Sighing, I went back to my duty.

During the games, tracking had become more difficult as each day passed. The masters simulated orcs, men, and Elves on different exercises. Men and orcs were as easy to follow as a pack of charging wargs, but when the masters felt like giving us something impossible, they simply became themselves. Tracking another Elf who does not want to be found is like tracking the way my nemesis, Míriel’s mind works. Alar and a few of the older novices seemed to be the only ones who could follow a path of thin air. Fortunately, I felt as if I were finally beginning to gain some insight into Elf-tracking—this was not the first time I had tracked an Elf; we had been training for years—but the games were the first time the youngest novices had tracked Elves who did everything they could to not leave a trail. Seregon says that you track an Elf more by sensing him than actually seeing his trail, and this must be learned the same way as we have to learn to follow physical signs. I put my hand on the nearest tree and cooed, “My, what lovely bark you have. Tell me, friend, have you seen an Elf skulking around here acting as if he does not want us to find him?”

I heard Nouren laugh as the others came toward where I was communing with the trees. “I do not think flattery will work. I am beginning to think that these trees have seen nothing.”

Tarior, our captain for the day, shook his head. “I think we are off course.” He turned to Alar. “Do you have any sense of which way we should adjust?”

I heard Belas snort behind me and mutter, “He has no sense of any kind.” Only Legolas, Nouren and I heard him, and we all three turned slowly to look at him. A sick, malicious smile slid across his mouth.

“From what I have seen, I would think the trail is probably more to the southeast,” Alar said. “The last sure signs we found could have gone directly south as we have come, or veered off slightly to the east.”

“Do you think we should backtrack all the way back to the last sign, or do you think you can pick up the trail if we adjust to a more easterly route?” Tarior asked.

Shaking his head, Alar said, “I do not think we need to go all the way back at this point. We can find it, I think, if we merely go back a short ways.”

Tarior nodded and called, “Move out.”

Alar joined Nouren as we began to walk to the east.  As Belas walked by him, he sneered and said, “If we get jumped, do not get anywhere near me. You got me killed yesterday when you were supposed to be watching my back.”

Nouren grimaced. “You got yourself killed.”

“We will see how you feel about having him at your back after today,” Belas snapped. “If you last more than three minutes then it will be a gift from the Valar.”

“Back off, Belas,” Nouren said calmly. “You are responsible for not blocking Derion’s thrust. Alar had nothing to do with it.”

“He was not where he should have been,” Belas said. “He was, as usual, dead.” Belas tossed his hands up into the air. “Why are you defending the child-novice anyway? He has no business being in training to be a warrior. He is death waiting.”

“What Alar does is none of your concern,” Nouren said, his voice finally rising.

“It is my concern if my life or the life of another warrior is forfeited because he is not capable,” Belas said.

“The masters are not concerned. They are fine with Alar,” Nouren said. “This is not your decision.”

Belas twisted his mouth with disgust. “You are a fool, Nouren.” Then he gave a short laugh and turned to go. “Tell me tomorrow when you are still trying to brush the clay out of your tunic if you still do not think he is a menace.” With that, Belas spun on his heels and disappeared into the forest.

When we all turned to Alar, his face was bright red. Hanging his head, he fingered his belt buckle. “I am sorry,” he said softly. “I should not be here.”

Nouren let out a great puff of air as he rubbed his forehead. “That is not true. You have every right to be here. No one feels this way but Belas, and it is often hard to tell if he really means what he says, or if he is merely talking to hear the sound of his own voice.”

“Nouren is right,” Legolas said. “You cannot allow Belas to dictate what you are allowed to do.”

“He is the one who has no business being a warrior,” I said angrily. “If he makes it to warrior without one of us breaking his legs, the commanders will not put up with his condescension and rude remarks.” I smiled grimly. “I hope to be a fly on the wall when Aldamir gets a hold of him.”

Nouren placed his hand on Alar’s shoulder and said, “You have to understand Belas. He is every bit as difficult as you think he is, but he was taught to be this way. I think he is really very unsure of himself so he tries to make others feel inadequate.”

I laughed harshly. “He is certainly sure how to do that!”

“Indeed,” Nouren said, as he began to walk toward our area to scout. “His family’s cottage is near mine. Since our naneths sew together, we played as children.” Nouren smiled wryly. “He has always been this way, but I had hoped that he would grow out of it.”

“Before the end of Arda?” I asked.

Nouren laughed. “I am beginning to think that will not be long enough either.”

“Who taught him to be this way?” Legolas asked. “Can his parents not do something?”

Nouren shook his head. “His parents are the problem. His adar is a gardener at the palace.” Legolas threw me a quick look of surprise. I did not know who he was either. “His adar is, in truth, a very nice person,” Nouren went on. “His naneth is nice too, but she dotes on Belas as if he were the only elfling in the world. He does no wrong in her eyes.” Nouren turned to look back at us. “I remember once when we were very young; my family was outside in the garden. Belas and his parents were outside too. Apparently Belas said something rude to his adar and his adar chastised him for it, but his naneth objected to how rude his adar was being for telling Belas that he could not speak that way. She has always excused Belas’s behavior for one reason or another: He is just a child, or he is tired, or he did not know. There is always an excuse from her for why Belas behaves so badly. And she will not tolerate anyone saying anything to him. I think his adar gave up fighting them both long ago.”

“Surely the masters have spoken to him about his behavior?” Legolas said.

“I do not know for certain, but I suspect that they have,” Nouren told us. “Especially since Belas has come from his reviews with the masters looking more than a little displeased.”

“Apparently,” I said, “it did no good.”

“I am not making excuses for Belas,” Nouren said to Alar. “He is responsible for his actions. But at least you will have some understanding for why he behaves as he does.”

“Knowing he has had little guidance,” Legolas offered, “will help to dismiss the unkind things he says.”

“My naneth used to say,” Nouren said, “that Belas’s behavior is because he is crying out for someone to show him that they love him by caring enough to discipline him.” He smiled. “I used to think that was madness. But now I think she is right; Belas does not feel valued.”

I laughed. “If discipline is the measure of love, then Legolas and I are the most loved children in all of Elvendom.”

“Then I am a close second,” Nouren laughed.

“I have been thinking,” I said. Everyone turned to look at me. Legolas looked slightly wary, I thought, but I have never been one to let Legolas’s lack of enthusiasm to thwart me. “We cannot go to the masters about this; when Belas finds out, it will only make him more determined, and this will make things worse for Alar.” They nodded. I smiled. “There is more than one way to wage a battle.” Putting my arm around Alar’s shoulders, I said, “The non-violent way. You must learn the art of verbal warfare.”

Legolas chortled. “You are the master,” he said.

I nodded regally. “Do you remember when Belas said that you are a menace?” I asked.

Alar flushed and nodded.

“You must have a response to him when he says things like that,” I told him.

Alar’s eyes widened as if this had never occurred to him. “If I say anything back to him, then I am afraid he will be angry, or he will hit me, and then we will both be in trouble with the masters.”

I waved my hand through the air. “He will not hit you. He is a warg’s tail, but he is not that dumb. No, what you must do is offer a confident reply. For example,” I said, “when he said to you that you are a menace, you could have replied: And you are my hero, Belas.”

“What!” Alar yelped.

I raised my hand. “Wait. Wait. This is where you make your message clear. Presentation is everything: The tone of your voice, the stance of your body, the tilt of your head and even where you put emphasis on your words will convey meaning.” Taking Alar by the arm, I turned him to me. “So, he has just called you a menace. Now, you stand casually,” I said as I demonstrated, “show no fear—and answer him in a very dry tone--And you are my hero. In such a neutral tone, he will not know if you are being serious or not. It will take him a moment to decide exactly what you are saying. Now, if you want him to really know that you are being sarcastic then, you could add some gestures, like throwing your hands up in the air and saying: And you are my hero.”  I leaned in closer to Alar. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

Alar’s brow creased as if he were studying the tracks of our elusive quarry. “I think so,” he said slowly.

“Good,” I said. “Now, let us practice.” Moving a step back, I waved to him in leave to give this a try. “Tell me that I am your hero.”

Legolas batted his eyelashes at me and warbled in a high voice, “Oh, Daeron, you are my hero.”

“Not you,” I said giving him a light shove.

Wiping the smile from his face, Alar threw his hands up in the air and said sweetly, “Oh, Belas, you are my hero.”

Involuntarily, the side of my mouth tilted upward. “Well,” I said thoughtfully, “that will certainly frighten him, but not in the way I had in mind.”

When we had all stopped laughing, we started again to walk to where we should have already been tracking. “All you need is a little practice,” I said reassuringly. “Just remember that when he insults you, you have to take his insult and turn it around on him. Like when he said that you were not watching his back, you then say: I was watching it. Unfortunately, your front got in the way of Derion’s sword. Or you could say: I was watching it, but then I was overcome with curiosity to see if when you were stabbed you would deflate like a skin of hot air.”

Between laughing and coughing, Alar said, “That would surely earn his wrath. He would use me to plow pea rows.”

“He will be too shocked that you stood up to him to react for a while,” I said. “If he thinks you will not allow his insults to upset you, then he will get the message and stop harassing you.”

“You hope,” Legolas said.

Still chuckling, Alar shook his head. “I do not think I can do this. I cannot think of such quick retorts.”

Slapping him firmly on the back, I said, “Of course you can. Stick with me, Alar, and soon you will be the master of condescending discourse.”

“I do not think this will work,” Alar moaned.

“Of course it will,” I said. “I promise you.”

Within the hour, Alar had found our trail. Time to rehearse Alar’s lines for when he met again with Belas’s sour disposition was not with us, but I was certain that it would come soon enough. Belas did not give up his targets easily, but I could not help but believe that he would not challenge Alar any further if Alar made it clear that he could play the game just as well as he. After all, Belas did not bother with anyone he thought would stand up to him, only those he thought vulnerable to his insults.

By mid-afternoon, we found the masters waiting in a small clearing at the end of the tracks. The other group had not arrived as yet and everyone took turns congratulating Alar for such a fine job of keeping us on track. That is everyone, but Belas. He looked as if he had been sucking green persimmons. I admit his irritation delighted me. I could think of no one who deserved more to be annoyed than Belas. However, I was a little concerned that my pupil was not quite ready to slay the worm with his verbal sword. A little more practice time was needed.

As we discussed with the masters our experience with the day’s tracking, I noticed that Alar said very little, and only then when addressed directly. Belas was more than happy to point out his contributions, which, I might add, were much less than he led the masters to believe. What a fool, I thought. The masters watched everything we did. I knew they did, even if they never told us that they would be observing us when we were in the forest and supposedly away from them. Belas had to know this since this was not his first trip on the games, but his mouth apparently got more time than his brain, and he conveniently overlooked this essential piece of information.  If I had not been taking so much delight in him building his own funeral pyre, then I might have offered to help him chop the wood for it or reminded him that the masters knew everything that went on. They were even aware that we had slowed our tracking to talk to Alar, I am certain. We still got to the end of the trail first…due to Alar. And the masters knew that too.

The other group arrived as the afternoon was beginning to wane. Still plenty of light remained as the masters told us that we would be moving again to our campsite for the night. With all my heart, I prayed that they would allow us to sleep for more than a few hours.

We had gone no further than a few hundred yards when we were attacked—for the fourth time in as many days—but this time, we were set upon by ten members of the home guard, screaming and grunting and wielding practice orc swords. Since we were on the ground, there was no time for us to take to the trees or to our bows. The battle was over with a fair swiftness, but not without casualties among the novices. I regret that I was one of the dead ones. A sneaky orc came up behind me and stabbed me in the back. I thought that was a dirty way to kill someone, but I suppose orcs do not battle by any particular etiquette manual.

The highlight of the battle was the contest between Melda and the captain of the home guard, Celelion. They are related by marriage, and this is apparently a long standing family tradition.  In this instance, there were certain rewards for being out of the battle as I was dead by the time that Celelion sought out Melda from where he had gone to gain a vantage point in an old oak.

With a grin on his face, our headmaster bounded from the tree onto the ground and drew his sword—his real sword, not a practice one. An equally delighted grin was on Celelion’s face as he threw aside the practice sword he carried and drew the long blade at his side. Shivers ran down my spine as I heard the swift scrape of a blade being released. For a few moments they circled one another, watching each other like hungry predators waiting for their prey to reveal a weakness. Celelion dipped his sword to draw Melda and it worked. Melda advanced on him. The sound of metal ringing caught everyone’s attention and to be honest, this action was most likely the cause of the quick demise of the remaining novices still engaged in battle. The sound of a real sword rings truer than those of the blunted practice swords, and everyone immediately knew what was afoot.

Gathering along with the home guard, the novices were privileged to watch the deadly, but incredibly beautiful dance of two Elves who were truly masters of the blade. The sword play was quick and precise as they feigned and parried, whirled and re-engaged. Rapid flashes of glittering light shot from the blades as the rays of dying sunlight caught home on the rapidly moving metal. Two Elves fought with all their strength and skill, never really having to pull thrusts as they were both so equally matched.

A fully engaged battle waged for nearly ten minutes without them breaking as they used all their skill to try and bring a quick end to the contest. Finally, still at a draw, they pulled back. The slow circling began again, careful steps almost completely mirrored. These two have battled each other so often that they knew one another’s moves as well as they knew their own. The only way to win would be to force a mistake.

Celelion charged this time, deftly swinging his blade so quickly that Melda could do nothing but block. Melda calmly took the defensive position until Celelion paused for just the instance in the assault that Melda needed. He took charge then, driving his opponent back in a swift attack that lacked the timed rhythm of the earlier bout.  Apparently that was what it took to throw off Celelion’s timing; he miscalculated and missed the block. In an instant, the tip of Melda’s sword was poised at his throat. Wild cheers erupted from the novices and the home guard. Melda and Celelion embraced first in a warrior’s greeting and then threw their arms around each other in a gleeful fraternal hug.

As soon as they broke from one another and after a few claps to our shoulders from the warriors, the home guard began to drift into the trees and disappeared. When they had gone, Melda turned back to us. We cheered again. With what looked to me like an extremely gratified smile, he re-sheathed his sword. And then, with a flick of his wrist, he motioned us back on our trail to our evening campsite. After watching such an exciting bout, I had to admit, I felt invigorated and happy to have been there.

Melda led us to a small clearing with a stream running nearby. The excited chatter about the bout ceased as he turned to address us. “I will place you into three new groups with new captains for tonight and these assignments will hold for tomorrow’s exercises.”

When he had finished arranging our groups, I felt slightly weak in the knees; I had been assigned as captain. This was not my first time to captain—I had done so earlier for part of a day—but the difficulty of the games increased as each day passed. To captain for the night and the following day made me more nervous than the thought of talking to Isilya. And to make matters worse, Belas and Alar were in my group. Having Legolas also assigned to me made me feel somewhat better, but why Belas? And why me? I moaned.

So lost in my own worries and thoughts, I barely heard my name called for the evening assignment; my group was to fetch wood for the night’s fire. As everyone began their tasks to set up camp, I was standing silently for a moment to get my bearings when I saw the members of my group staring at me in wait of command. Belas, I thought, looked slightly amused, if not anticipatory for what havoc he could wreak. Alar looked mortified, and Legolas looked as if he thought a change of command was already due. “Come,” I said simply and began to walk into the forest to search for dead fall.

We did not have to go far to find plentiful dried wood. Since I could think of no command I needed to give—they already knew how to gather firewood—I began to gather small broken limbs and to pile them in a central area where they would add their haul to mine. Then we would distribute it among ourselves and take it back to camp.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alar, laden with wood, stumble and fall. Belas burst into laughter. Before I could speak, Legolas whirled about face Belas. “What was that for?” Legolas said as he reached out a hand to Alar and pulled him to his feet. Poor Alar. His face was red, and I thought for a moment he might speak, but then, we had not covered tripping in his studies of retorts. Instead, he hung his head and began to recover the wood he had dropped.

Belas swayed slightly with laughter. “I cannot help it if the elfling cannot walk on his own two feet yet.”

“You tripped him,” Legolas said. I walked closer to them, dropping my armload of wood at the central pile as I went. Legolas’s voice was calm, but I could see the anger lit in his eyes.

“Then he should look where he is going,” Belas howled.

“I was looking where I was going,” Alar said meekly, “but your big foot got in the way.”

I groaned; my pupil definitely needed further instruction. Belas laughed harder. “Was that an insult, little one? I ask because I am not certain if you are even more stupid than I thought or if you are merely that clumsy.”

“He is not clumsy,” Legolas shot back. “Nor is he stupid.”

“Is that so?” Belas said, tossing the pieces of firewood he held over into the pile. “But then what would you know, Thranduilion?  You are just as inept as he is.”

I stepped between Legolas and Belas as quickly as I could. “That is enough,” I snapped. “This behavior will not be tolerated.” I turned to Belas. “If you do anything like that again, I will report you to the masters and while you are under my command you will conduct yourself in a manner appropriate to a warrior.”

Belas smiled. “Report me then, captain,” he said making my temporary title sound as if it were a pox on Elvendom. “The masters know that I am skilled with my weapons and will be a fine warrior. They are hardly going to concern themselves with some trivial matter like a child that will never be anything but a menace.”

“Perhaps you should be concerned,” Legolas said. “Your behavior will not be tolerated among the warriors. The commander will have you sweeping the steps to the cellars or standing guard over seedlings. He will not allow you to harass others.”

“And you would know,” Belas said sarcastically. “The commander will not do anything. He will not even do anything about novices such as him,” he said, pointing at Alar. “Some people do not like the disagreeable job of ferreting out the vermin and the fact that novices such as him are allowed to remain in training tells me that your brother does not care for such a job.”

“And you think it is your job?” I asked, incredulously.

“My brother,” Legolas said before Belas could answer, “knows what he is doing. You have not been paying attention if you do not think so.”

Belas snorted. “Your brother obviously cares little for what happens to the warriors in the field. If he did he would not allow such pathetic little mice into the ranks.”

I lifted my eyebrows in something as inappropriate as amusement at such a time. I could not wait for Aldamir to get this one in his clutches. Belas would rue the day he was born. “You are bordering on sedition,” I announced, proud of myself that I finally had some real meat to take back to the masters.

“Do not be obtuse,” Belas snapped. “I would follow the commander’s orders and do so willingly, but I will not allow someone like this child to get me killed. He should leave before anyone dies because he is not worthy of the troops.”

“And if the commander orders you to leave Alar alone?” Legolas asked.

“That will never happen,” he said as a slow smile spread over his teeth. “Alar will not be there to cause problems. Vermin is dealt with before it gets to the ranks.”

“You have no right!” Legolas said.

“I have every right, pampered son of the king,” he snapped. “I have every right in Arda to purge sorry warriors from the ranks. I will not have a personal guard like you. I have to depend on the warrior at my back, and I will not have one that I cannot trust.”

“Please…” Alar muttered, putting his hand on Legolas’s arm.

“Please what?” Belas snapped. “Defend you some more? Legolas does not have to concern himself with whether you will be a danger to him. I do. And I will not have you serve as a warrior. You are not and never will be good enough.”

“How dare you?” I said shocked more with myself than Belas that I did not expect his venom. Nothing he said or did should have surprised me. “Alar’s ability to track may one day save your miserable hide.”

“I dare,” he said through his teeth, “because no one else will take it upon themselves to see the refuse removed. I will not be like the masters or the commander and coddle novices like him. If he cannot make the grade then he has no place among the warriors. His tracking skills are no better than the least of the older novices.”

“You insult the masters and the commander,” I said angrily. “You have dug your own grave.”

“My grave is what I fear, captain,” he snapped. “I do not fear the masters or the commander.”

“Then you are a bigger fool than I realized,” I said. “If you want to be a warrior, then learning some respect would a good place to start. If you make it out of novice training, then the commander will not tolerate your insolence.”

“He is a fool,” Belas said, “if he does not appreciate the warriors seeing to their own.”

Legolas was seething. I could see the barely contained anger in his clenched fists, and I could hear it in his voice. Belas was only moments from a beating. And I had to prevent it from happening.

“My brother is no fool,” Legolas said through clenched teeth. “And you would do well to remember this.”

“Enough!” I said. “We will let the masters deal with this.” I pointed to the wood pile. “Gather your portion and take it back to camp.”

Alar was the only one to move to obey, but even he stopped when no one else moved.

“Grow up, Legolas,” Belas said as he punched Legolas in the chest with his finger. “Your big brother is not perfect. Until he commands the masters to rid of us of the likes of him,” he said, pointing to Alar, “then we will always have dead warriors and lost ground to the enemy.”

“We do not have dead warriors nor do we lose ground due to faults of Aldamir’s,” Legolas snapped.

“Yet we lose more ground,” Belas said. “He is worrying over villages now because he cannot defend them.”

“And you would have him decrease his troop numbers according to your whims?” Legolas said.

“Perhaps if he had such whims, we would not be in the trouble we are in now,” Belas replied haughtily.

Legolas’s fist was so fast I did not have time to intervene. Belas fell flat on his back, a look of shock plainly written on his face. “I have had enough of you,” Legolas said through clinched teeth; his legs were wide and his fists were balled at his sides.

Belas sneered. “You have not gotten nearly enough, Thranduilion,” he said as he rose to a crouch. In the blink of an eye, he charged, catching Legolas around the waist.

“Stop!” I yelled as they rolled, looking like nothing more that a whirl of flying fists and knees. “Stop, I said!” Grabbing Legolas by the back of his tunic, I attempted to haul him off Belas, but I only managed to lift him up enough for Belas to get in a good punch to his jaw.

That took care of all my self control. Tossing Legolas to the side, I grabbed Belas by the front of his tunic and hauled him to his feet. The feel of my fist impacting with his jaw was one of the most satisfying moments of my life. However, my glee was short lived; his fist found a satisfying mark on my face. I thought all the bones must have shattered. Literally, I saw stars.

Before any further exchanging of fists could take place, Alar yelled, “Listen!”

The tone of his voice brought us all back to reason. Suddenly from behind me, I heard a strange, rapidly approaching clacking sound that rattled the calm of the forest. I heard the first twang of a bow string being released, and Orocarni shout from somewhere over my head, “To Arms! Daeron! Get them moving!”

In an instant, we were armed with our bows and with our arrows nocked--our real arrows, not the padded ones. I felt more secure being truly armed until I got a look at our enemy swarming through the trees. It is not the home guard was my only thought as I was faced with the most overwhelming terror I had ever known.

Chapter Eight: Aldamir

When Legolas hit Belas, I would have leapt down from my perch in the tree but that Orocarni caught my arm. “Please, my lord, allow us to handle this.” I nodded, holding my position with a grip so tight my fingers burned. I was angry, angrier than I had been in a long time. Belas had gone too far and he would be dealt with, but I was most angry with Legolas and Daeron for getting drawn into such a fray. A part of me was touched by their loyal defense of me, but as a commander I could not tolerate such undisciplined behavior. Though by my own policy, I had always left novice discipline in the hands of the masters, this was almost too much for me to bear. I wanted to drag Legolas from the clearing and shake him like a rag. He knew better. So did Daeron.

Before I could manage to get my impatience to act under control, I heard the unmistakable sound of spiny legs grating against bark. Nothing in the forest made this sound except a large number of spiders, and they were approaching us through the trees as quickly as a cold rush of wind. A chill went down my spine.

Orocarni had dropped to a lower branch only moments before to intervene in the fight; his head immediately whipped around toward the sound. Scrambling further out on the branch where he stood, he shouted, “To arms! Daeron! Get them moving!”  All around me, Elves sprang into motion. Tabor, my guard, leapt to the branch above me, his bow taut and readied for release. Seregon moved off to my right with his guard, Lathien, shadowing him closely. Instinctively, I found my bow in my hand. With an arrow nocked, I stood and waited for the battle that would be upon us in seconds.

With the first glimpse of the great spiders spreading through the trees with the speed of a wave rippling to the shore, Seregon and I released simultaneously. My heart lurched as I saw the red band that encircled the front section of each hissing, charging foe. My first arrow found the enemy quickly enough, but there were far too many to count. I barely had time to register anything more than the instant ken that the fat body was knocked back by the force of the impact before I was releasing another bolt.

Between draws of my bow, I glanced to the novices on the ground. As untried as they were and out in the open, I feared for their safety. But I could not cease shooting to get to them. Shouts echoing from the novice campsite told me that they were also meeting with attack.  I glanced down again at the novices in the clearing and saw that they were paired and shooting as quickly as they could draw and release. Every time I saw that they were still standing, I felt another moment of hope.

Red-ringed black bodies fell in heaps upon one another as our arrows flew. Yet the many creatures meeting with death did not serve as a warning to their fellows. With what seemed like a never ending influx of new spiders, they merely fanned out through the trees, seeking to avoid our bolts. Climbing higher to get above us, the spiders made the trees look like a vile, undulating darkness set to devour us. Everywhere I looked, spiders were swarming.  

From above, I heard a low hiss and a gravely voice spit out, “A feast is ours!” I swung around to aim upward and had only an instant to step aside to avoid the crashing body with Tabor’s arrow embedded in it. Within the blink of an eye, Tabor had returned to methodically eliminating a spider with each arrow he released.

Seregon dropped to a lower branch, aiming his shots toward the ground where spiders were scurrying toward the novices in the center of the clearing. Legolas and Daeron were releasing into the oncoming spiders while Belas and Alar battled to keep the ones that circled around to the back of them at bay. A lone spider crept out onto a limb above where the novices were surrounded. Quickly sighting it, I put a bolt into its eye. It whirled from the branch and fell at Daeron’s feet. Daeron drew his blade, but upon seeing the spider was dead turned and swung instead at another that skittered toward him on the ground. Black blood sprayed out in a wide arc, covering Daeron’s tunic, leaving inky blotches and growing dark pools leaking out onto the forest floor. He continued to slice through the spiders that tried to approach them while the others sent arrows flying into the teeming mass that surrounded us, but a glance at their quivers told me that they were almost out of arrows. I knew I had to get to them.

Releasing one last bolt, I jumped to the ground with Orocarni and Tabor following. Orocarni’s blade was covered with black blood within seconds. “Seregon!”  I shouted. “Watch overhead.” His bow swung back up, but his quiver bore few arrows as well and there was no time to salvage arrows from the bodies.

As I made my way toward the novices, I saw Legolas release his last arrow and pull the two knives strapped to this quiver. Belas and Alar quickly had their blades in their hands. Shoving my sword into the belly of a spider poised to strike, I darted forward, fighting my way toward the novices with Orocarni and Tabor on either side of me.

As I was finally making headway to the novices, leaving as many hacked carcasses as I could in my wake, a fat spider hissed angrily at me as it dodged my sword and turned to spew a spindly rope of web that fell at my feet. It swung around to face me. “You will pay,” it hissed with a sound like wet wood thrown onto a hot fire.

“Then come for me!” I snapped.  It darted forward and then skittered back as I swung at its head in a wide arc. Jumping over a dead spider that had curled up like a dried leaf, I swung my sword in invitation. “Come on. Do not waste my time.” It scrambled back further, but was met by a wild-eyed Daeron. With one fell drop of his sword, he separated the head of the spider from the body. Another darted toward him. “Behind you!” I shouted. He swung his sword around just as the spider leapt for him, sinking metal deep into the black belly. Spewing blood rained down on him.

Too many spiders still ran through the trees looking for an opening to drop on us. Pulling an arrow from a shriveled corpse, I shot at one moving toward the novices. It dropped with a satisfying thud.

A new sound came from the direction the spiders had come. With great relief, I recognized the whistles and shouts. A group of warriors were flying through the trees, their arrows dropping spiders as they advanced. At the lead, I caught a glimpse of the very welcome and comforting sight of my brother. Erelas jumped to the ground, cutting his way toward me and the novices.

My hands were slick with black blood and sweat on the hilt of my sword. I gripped it tighter, hoping to see an end to this in moments now that Erelas’s patrol had arrived. To my back, I heard Daeron cry out. “Legolas! Above you!” My heart stopped as I whirled toward my brother.

Swiftly, a spider advanced on me before I could make any move toward my youngest brother. I caught its leg with my blade, severing it. When it stumbled forward, I lobbed the head from its body. As I withdrew my blade, I saw the slick black body drop on top of Legolas. I lunged forward, but he plunged his knives upward, catching the underbelly as the tip of my sword caught only a slice at its back. Daeron lifted it from Legolas, his sword firmly embedded in its eye, and furiously flung it to the side. Immediately, Legolas was back on his feet, his blade slicing into the thick hide of another spider as it reared up to strike. Feeling as if my heart was pounding out of my chest, but relieved nonetheless, I stabbed a spider scurrying toward Belas. Alar’s blade caught the spider on the other side, effectively pinning the jerking body between us like meat on a spit.

Suddenly, I could find no more spiders moving on us. I stood panting as I searched the trees and ground for signs of any that still lived. Erelas whistled and his patrol snapped their attention to him. “Secure the campsite,” he ordered. A group of warriors left quickly and soundlessly. Pointing to another group of his warriors, he ordered, “Make certain none have escaped.” Four warriors were in the trees and gone from my sight in seconds.

After a quick survey, I found that all the warriors and the novices were standing. Relief spread through me; both my younger brothers were safe “Account to me!” I shouted.

“All are well,” Erelas replied of his patrol.

“None harmed,” Orocarni reported of his charges.

At the edge of the clearing, I saw Seregon, his blood-stained sword still gripped in his left hand while his right arm was secured around the shoulders of a helplessly-retching Daeron. A small smile crept onto my lips; Daeron had fought well, but the enemy had been the most heinous imaginable for him. I knew Seregon was proud of the strength of his younger brother in the face of this foe; I shared in that pride.

Glancing at Alar, I found him standing statue-still, his sword gripped tightly in his hands, ready to take on any that should come to him. His eyes were wide with fear and his lips were set into a thin line. I waved to him to stand down. Only a marginal slackening of his stance was notable. All I could see of Belas was his back as he watched the woods in wait. Legolas’s head swiveled as he looked over the incredible number of dead spiders lying at our feet. He looked dazed, I thought. First battles often leave new warriors unsteady and the novices were at a disadvantage, not only with a lack of experience, but also with a lack of any real anticipation of meeting a true enemy.  Still, at that moment little mattered to me other than reaching him over the short distance that separated us.

As I started toward my brother, I pushed aside bodies lying near me with the tip of my sword, but I could not take my eyes from Legolas. Everyone else seemed to be shaking off the surprise of the attack, but Legolas’s eyes had taken on the glazed stare of someone who has been completely severed from what is taking place around him. “Legolas?” I said softly, as I reached out my hand to him. Swaying slowly, he began to sink to his knees. The knives dropped like stones from his hands. I let go of my sword. I barely had time to catch him as he fell.

Cradling him in one arm, I ran my hands over his torso and pulled at his clothing, looking for a wound. Seregon dropped to his knees at my side. He quickly removed Legolas’s wrist guards and unfastened his black-blood stained tunic. As I tilted Legolas upward to view his back, Seregon pulled the tunic and undershirt over his shoulders. “Here,” he said. “A bite on his left shoulder.”  Two needle-thin wounds were already puffed with swelling and ringed with a wide red circle.

I dug frantically in the pouch on my belt. “Steady, Legolas,” I muttered as my shaking fingers finally found the small tin of anti-venom. I dropped the tin to the ground and flipped it open to take from it one of the small wafers. “Open your mouth,” I ordered, but Legolas merely stared ahead, his eyes wide, fixed and without any glimmer of understanding. Lowering him gently to the ground, I grasped his jaw and forced his mouth open. My hands were shaking so badly, I fumbled as I tried to place the wafer under his tongue. Grasping the wafer again, I finally placed it. “Stay with me, Legolas!” I demanded, hoping to keep him aware to lessen his fear. “You will be fine,” I said. I did not expect him to answer, but talking to him calmed me as well, and I continued to offer reassurance as I sought my healing pouch again.

Seregon took Legolas into his arms and pulled him against his chest to allow me access to the bite. From my healing pouch, I pulled one of the small folded parchments out and dropped it to the ground. Orocarni crouched at my side with a water skin. I scrubbed blood from my hands and then retrieved the parchment. Orocarni flushed the bite on Legolas’s shoulder as I poured the contents of the parchment into my wet hand to make a paste of the white powder. Using my whole hand, I slathered the grainy mixture on the bite to slow the poison.

“Erelas!” I shouted.

“I am here,” he said from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder to see him; his eyes were fixed on Legolas. “Get someone to remove the venom sacs from at least ten of these foul creatures,” I ordered. “The healers will need them.”

He tore his gaze from our younger brother and ran back to where his warriors were checking the downed bodies. I heard him issuing the orders.

When I turned back to Legolas, Daeron had made his way to us and was kneeling at Legolas’s side. The look on his blood-splattered face was one of sheer terror. After I had helped Seregon lower Legolas back to the ground and placed Legolas’s head in my lap, I put my hand on Daeron’s shoulder. “He will be fine,” I said. With all my heart, I prayed this would be the truth. “We will get him back to the healers as quickly as possible.”

Daeron said nothing as he continued watching Legolas’s every breath.

Melda dropped to one knee next to me and nodded toward Legolas. “How is he?” he asked.

“I have given him the anti-venom and placed the paste on the bite. We will take him back to the stronghold as quickly as possible,” I said. I sought Erelas again and saw him bending over a spider with another warrior as the warrior cut the venom sac from the dead spider. “Erelas!” I called. His head whipped around. “Send for our horses. Quickly.” He nodded and jumped to his feet.

“Did any take injury among those in the camp?” I asked, my heart still pounding.

Melda shook his head. “No, they are shaken, but otherwise unharmed. They are breaking camp. As you commanded earlier, we will leave for the stronghold within minutes. We should arrive back there no later than mid-day tomorrow.” He glanced over at Seregon. “I will take these three with me,” he said indicating Daeron and the two silent, wide-eyed novices standing behind him, “unless you should desire Daeron to go with you.”

Seregon would not wish to be parted from his brother, I knew this, but I also knew that he would not pull Daeron from the ranks. Seregon’s face was neutral, but I knew well the internal conflict he warred with at that moment. Without hesitation, he shook his head. “Daeron will return with the other novices, but I would wish to speak with him for a moment before you depart.”

Melda nodded. “Is there anything that we may do to aid you, commander?”

I shook my head. “No, as soon as our horses are retrieved we will make all haste back to the stronghold.”

“Then by your leave, my lord, I will likewise hasten the novices on our way,” he said.

“You may go,” I said. I smiled grimly. “Go carefully, Melda.”

“As always,” he said as he stood and saluted. After a brief hesitation, he bent low again and placed his hand on Legolas’s shoulder. He said nothing, but he gripped my brother’s shoulder firmly for a moment and then, standing quickly, took his leave.

Erelas knelt beside me. “The horses are here, my lord. Allow me to assist you getting Legolas settled.”

I slipped my hands under Legolas’s shoulders to gently lift him upward as Erelas took our younger brother tenderly into his arms. Holding Legolas close to his chest, Erelas whispered to him as he walked to the horses. When I mounted, he kissed Legolas on his forehead and carefully handed him up to me. “Be careful, brother,” he said. “You will be hindered by protecting Legolas if the need to defend yourselves should arise. I would not lose you or Legolas.”

I smiled. “I will take care of us both. We will be fine,” I told him, sounding far more calm than I felt.

“I can spare a few warriors for additional escort if you so desire,” he said.

I shook my head. “That will not be necessary. I would rather your forces make certain there are no more spiders in this area. And you will need your warriors to do a thorough search.”  I glanced at Tabor, already mounted. “Besides, Tabor would be insulted.”

Tabor gave Erelas a twisted grin. “Indeed,” he said. “I am capable of taking care of my charge.” Lathien gave a short, joyless laugh as he mounted, but I noted, his eyes did not stray from Seregon as he embraced Daeron in farewell.

“This night,” Erelas said to Tabor, “you will have two charges. Look over them well; they are mine.”

Tabor snorted. “And the king and queen’s.”

Erelas stepped back as his guard approached and handed him the thick leather pouch containing the venom sacs. Tugging on the drawstring, he handed it up to Tabor. “Go swiftly and with care. I will see you as soon as we have completed searching the woods and disposed of the bodies.”

Seregon mounted and raised his hand in farewell to Daeron as Daeron stopped for one last look at his brother before he disappeared into the woods toward the camp.  “Is he well?” I asked.

Still watching the woods where Daeron had gone, Seregon said softly as if his heart and his words were not in accord, “He will be fine.”

“Then we must go. Legolas needs to get to the healers,” I said, feeling as uncertain as Seregon must have felt about leaving Daeron behind, but we could not remove him from the novices simply because of our relationship to him.

We rode hard throughout the night, slowing only when the path did not allow the horses to run. I knew we would not reach the stronghold until daybreak, but the longer Legolas lay still and rigid in my arms, the more frantic I felt that we would not reach home in time. Seregon and I had speculated that the bite of these spiders could be more virulent than the spiders we were familiar with, and with my brother being the victim of such a bite, my fears nearly strangled the breath from me.  Periodically, I ran my free hand over Legolas’s face and neck checking for the fever that was sure to come. He was warm, but not feverish.

As we rode, I replayed nearly every conversation I had had with Seregon and the king about the spiders. I mentally reviewed every dispatch. Had there been some indication that the spiders would come this way? What had I missed that had resulted in a group of novices being attacked? I felt sick to my stomach when I allowed myself to imagine what would have happened if Seregon, our guard, and I had not been there to aid the masters and the novices, or if Erelas and his patrol had not been on the heels of the spiders. To not anticipate something such as this was inexcusable. How would I explain this oversight to the king? How would I live with myself if my little brother did not recover? In truth, I realized, there was no excuse; I had missed something that had nearly gotten a group of younglings and their masters killed. Bile rose in my throat as I considered that I had been negligent because my mind was elsewhere. I am not fit to command, I nearly said aloud.

As I touched Legolas’s face again, in the dim moon light, I could see the dark blot of a bruise that was forming on his face from his fight with Belas. A bluish ring had formed under his left eye and was spreading over his cheekbone. Perhaps there had been some truth to the things that Belas said: I was a fool, and I had allowed harm to come to my little brother.

My mind wandered back to when Seregon and I arrived to view the novices. We were delighted to see the last of the ‘orc’ fight. Poking Seregon in the ribs with my elbow, I demanded my fillet knife back; Melda had won. Daeron had already been taken out of the fight, but I had a few moments to observe Legolas with his practice sword as he fought with the home guard ‘orc’. My little brother was quick and steady, anticipating the ‘orc’s’ moves with accuracy. To this day, I still find myself awed by his natural ability to use his weapons. I knew then that Legolas would make a fine warrior, of that I had no doubt. Pulling him closer to me as we rode hard back to the stronghold, I was proud of him, yet I could not help the nagging fear that gathered in the pit of my stomach about the dangers I knew awaited him and every other warrior of the Woodland Realm. How would I survive if something happened to him or to Erelas? As it was, I already sent Erelas out to face danger daily, and soon I would send this innocent brother along with our cousin onto the perilous path of this forest’s defense. All I had was faith in their training and faith in them--and a continual prayer in my heart for their safety.

Night was giving way to the first dim gray of day as we drew near the stronghold. I pushed the horses harder; Legolas was shivering as the expected fever began to take hold. Otherwise, I felt no movement from him at all. I had held out hope that the anti-venom would begin to work sooner. Experience has taught us that the spider venom paralyzes its victim, but often after the anti-venom is given, some faint movement will come back into the muscles quickly. Too many warriors and residents of these woods have learned that when the muscles begin to regain function, the pain is excruciating. Spasms, fever and nausea make recovery almost unbearable in the first hours of healing. I have seen the stoutest of Elven warriors struggle to keep from screaming in pain. I have never been bitten, but when Seregon was, I sat by his side as he went through the horrors of purging his body of this foul venom. With prompt and proper treatment, he survived, and I had to believe that Legolas would too. But my deepest fear came from not knowing what to expect of this new spider’s bite. After a bite from the black spider, I would not expect that death would come for days and then from dehydration, but with this spider, I had no way of knowing how quickly it would bring about death.

At first light, we rode across the bridge to the stronghold. Guards from the Great Doors rushed to meet us. “Send for a healer,” I shouted. “And summon the king and queen; their youngest has taken injury.”

Two grooms from the stables ran forward as Seregon dismounted quickly and came to me. He held his arms up to take Legolas. Once I was on the ground, I pulled my brother back into my own arms and ran toward the palace with Seregon following closely.

Flinging open the door of Legolas’s chamber, Seregon stepped back for me to enter. I placed Legolas gently on his bed and immediately began to strip him of this clothing. Seregon pulled his boots and stockings off and tossed them to the floor where I had thrown Legolas’s soiled clothing.

I heard my parents before I saw them. Naneth swept into the room still in her dressing gown and robe. She was pale and focused only on her youngest son as she pushed past me. Sitting down on the bed side, I saw her hand shake slightly as she placed it on his bare chest. “What has happened?” she demanded as she began the close inspection that only a mother can offer.

I looked up to find Adar staring at me with such intensity that I flinched for a moment. “Spider bite,” I said. “Late yesterday evening. We have ridden all night. I have summoned a healer.” He made no comment as he continued to simply stare at me. I felt his blame pierce me all the way to my core. Slowly taking his eyes from me, he went to Legolas’s bedside and knelt next to Naneth. He gently swept Legolas’s hair from his face.

“Aldamir?” Adar said.

“Yes, my lord,” I answered, my heart pounding wildly with worry for my brother and with expectation of my father’s wrath.

“Was anyone else harmed?” He turned to look back at me. “Are you hurt?”

“No, my lord,” I said. “Legolas is the only one to take injury.”

At that moment, Guilin, the healer, came scurrying through the door with an apprentice carrying a large carpet bag following.

“Please,” he pleaded with us, “allow me.”

Adar and I stepped back, but Naneth remained seated on the bed next to Legolas, her hands still running over him as if searching him for additional hurts.

“Please, my lady,” Guilin said softly.

Adar stepped forward and took her hand. “Come, Lalaith. We will be here if he needs us.” Never taking her eyes from Legolas, she allowed Adar to guide her to stand between us. A soft ragged breath came from her as she leaned into Adar’s side. His arm slipped around her shoulders to hold her closely to him.

“Tell me what happened,” Guilin said as he began to examine Legolas.

I related the sequence of events, including the treatment that I had already administered.

“Then you have given him only one measure of the anti-venom?” Guilin asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Has he taken any fluids since that time?” he asked.
 

“No,” I answered. “He has shown no signs of movement, and I feared he would not be able to swallow.”

Guilin nodded. “I do not think he can swallow,” he said as he turned to his apprentice. “Give me another wafer and prepare the tincture for his fever. I can put that under his tongue as well until he can drink.”

Watching silently as the healer treated my brother I shuddered at how pale and still Legolas was. I knew that at this stage of a bite, the victim would appear dead, but to see my brother so deathlike was frightening beyond any foe I had ever faced. When Seregon had been bitten, I recalled how I had constantly felt for his heartbeat or leaned close to hear his breaths. Only in the rarest incidence has an Elf died so quickly from a bite, but I was again reminded that I could not compare my previous experiences with Legolas’s. Anger flared inside my chest at the darkness that hunted us. Most of all, I was angry with myself for allowing my brother to fall victim to the shadow’s death march across this forest. He was too young, too inexperienced and I had failed in my protection of him. How would my parents ever forgive me? Adar had every right to his anger with me. But I feared my mother’s disappointment even more. I did not wish to disappoint either of my parents, but a look of disapproval in her eyes could cut me to my heart. She had stood between Adar and me on more than one occasion, reminding us both that all things are bearable when we worked together and when we worked from a shared love. She believed in me. But her child’s life was not at stake when she had stood by me before. This failure was beyond any childish prank or poor choice that gained me her disapproval or Adar’s. I rubbed my eyes. What more hurt could I cause her than to allow this to happen?

Guilin worked quickly, administering the medications. Once he was satisfied the wafer had dissolved and the tincture had been given, he gently rolled Legolas to his side to view the bite.

“The bite looks good,” he said. “The root powder has stopped any further decay of the tissue. The wound will be tender and reddened for a while, but it is healing.” He turned again to the young apprentice. “Fetch warm water and a cloth to bathe him. I do not want any of this spider blood to seep into the wound or into his mouth or eyes.” She nodded and hurried into the bathing chamber to get what was needed.

As Guilin cleaned the wound, I felt Adar’s hand touch me lightly on the shoulder. “Go and get cleaned up,” he said. “We will speak of this when you have rested.”

I looked to him, knowing that he would see the pleading look on my face to be allowed to stay, but he gave me a faint smile and patted me again. “Go. He will be fine. Your naneth and I will be here. You too, Seregon.”  Naneth did not take her eyes from Legolas as she took the hand dangling at my side in hers and squeezed it. My heart caught in my throat. How could she be so kind to me when I had failed so completely?

Turning fully to face my father, I saluted and said, “As you wish, my lord.” Seregon bowed and followed me out the door. We did not speak as we parted to go to our respective chambers.

When I came out of my bathing chamber, I found a tray of food on the table in the corner. I dressed quickly and sat down to eat. Until that point, I had not realized how weary I was. There was no time to rest yet as I needed to go to my office to find what new communications had been sent from the field. I still had a campaign to lead on the following morning. Though I do not think I could have rested under such circumstances no matter what my duties had been, and I knew that I would not be welcome to hover about all day in Legolas’s chambers. Trying to go about my daily routine would at least offer me some feeling of usefulness when I could do nothing for my brother but stay out of the way. The morning fare was simple fruit, bread and honey and I ate it, but it held no interest for me. Eating was simply a necessity.

On my way to my office, I stopped and knocked gently on Legolas’s door, despite knowing that I had been dismissed. “Come,” I heard Adar say.

My parents were seated at the bedside; Guilin was missing. I doubted he would be absent for long, but had merely gone back to the infirmary to ready what he would need. I thought then about the venom sacs I had ordered Erelas to procure and assumed the healers were working with those. Tabor would not need an order from me to take them straightway to the healers. Guilin would most likely be anxious to discover what they were finding, I thought.

“How is he?”  I asked quietly.

Naneth reached out her hand to me and I took it. “He is resting,” she said.

“There has been no movement yet?” I asked.

“Not yet,” she replied. “Guilin feels it will be several hours yet before his muscles begin to regain feeling.”

Pulling me closer, she turned to peer intently into my eyes. “How are you, my sweet child?” she asked.

“I am fine,” I said, nearly choked by the tenderness of her voice. I knew that she was searching me for what I was feeling. Despite my weariness and worry, I pulled back mentally, closing myself off to her gentle probing. I could not reveal myself to her yet.

“You did not rest,” she said.

“I am fine, Naneth,” I repeated.

Adar watched us and, I felt, knew exactly what was transpiring. “Is there anything you need to report to me that will not wait until this afternoon before we meet with the village leaders?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “There is nothing that cannot wait. I will be in my office when you are ready for me.”

“The time I chose will depend on Legolas,” he said. “I will not leave unless he is settled. If I do not feel I can leave, I will have you meet with the leaders. I will speak to you first if I desire this.”

“As you wish, Adar,” I said.

Standing slowly, he came to me and put his arm around my shoulders as he led me to the door. Once we were in the corridor, he took me by the shoulders and turned me to face him. “This is not your fault, Aldamir,” he said. “There was no way you could have known that the spiders would travel so far or come so close.”

I nodded, knowing that I could not explain just yet how this was indeed my fault. I had been more prepared for his anger than his understanding. I wondered if Naneth had intervened to stay his earlier anger. Still, I knew that later, I would be required to answer to him for what had happened. I was grateful for this short time to gather myself before I would be required to tell him how I had failed.

Once I was alone in my office, I spent the better part of the morning reviewing the dispatches I had received from all patrols. Even after trying to read between the lines, I could find nothing that suggested to me that there was any indication of the spiders’ path. There was no pattern, no logical deduction to be made from information that largely told me that the captains knew little about the red-banded spiders. The reports repeated over and over that the warriors continued to find the dead bodies of the black spiders and they suspected the new spider of causing this decline in the black ones.

Before noon, I received two new messages. The first one came from Erelas.  A home guard warrior brought it from the eastern flank of their territory where he had met with Erelas’s patrol near dawn as they searched for any remaining spiders in the area where the novices were attacked. Then another arrived from Farendi from the western border. As I had ordered, Ferendi had sent out patrols to survey the black spiders still inhabiting the woods and to chart locations, giving us the information needed for our trips to and from the villages to avoid as much as possible any known infested areas.  Ferendi’s finding gave me great pause and for the first time since the sightings of the red-banded spiders, a small glimmer of hope. A plan began to form in my head.

Snatching up the map I had been using to track Farendi’s information, I went to Seregon’s office. As I entered, he stood, greeting me with a look of surprise and concern. Rarely did I charge into his office; I usually summoned him, as most of the maps and rosters are housed in Culalda’s office. I waved him to his chair as I sat down in one in front of his desk. “Here,” I said, as I passed the map over his desk to him. “Ferendi’s latest report has some very interesting information in it.” Using my finger, I began to point at different sections of the forest. “Ferendi has found more dried corpses throughout this section,” I said. “He has also noted that there are many abandoned nests where the spiders were once thriving,” I told him as I tapped the map with my finger indicating the areas. I glanced up to Seregon. “He also feels that many of the surviving spiders are fleeing back south, relinquishing their claim on this part of the woods.”

“Then their numbers have decreased?” Seregon said.

“From all accounts, this appears to be the case,” I said. “As of early this morning, Erelas has found no further evidence of the red-banded spiders. My hope is that they were destroyed in our confrontation. We are left with only the black kin to dispense with.”

“But how many of them are still clinging to their hold in the western forest?” Seregon asked.

“Too many,” I said. “But the numbers have decreased enough to where I believe we can give them a fair fight.”

“Then you think we have a chance of ridding the woods of the spiders?” he asked.

“That is my plan,” I said. “Their numbers are reduced enough that, with fortune on our side, a concentrated sweep will cleanse the western woods of them or at least, reduce the numbers enough that the villagers will need not fear them.”

As I laid out for him the troop changes and the plan I would use, a smile slowly spread across his mouth.  “This is feasible,” he said. “And little will be required to set this plan into motion. The troops are readied and waiting to move out. The borders are protected and the supplies are at ready. All we will need do is alter our tactics from village relocation to one of spider removal.”

“As we drive the spiders southward, I will have Erelas positioned at the elf-path to intercept them. His patrol will reduce the numbers of those that escape us,” I said.

Seregon sat quietly for a moment and then said, “Have you spoken to the king yet?”

“I have not,” I said. “I will speak to him before I go down to the home guard office to speak with Celelion. The king is still with Legolas, I am certain.”

“I cannot imagine why the king would object,” Seregon said thoughtfully. “If we can remove the spiders instead of the villagers, then it is by far the more preferable course of action.”

“I will go and speak to him and then, if I have his leave, I will set this plan into motion,” I said as I stood, taking the map from his desk. “Have notices readied to send to the villages of our plans, so that when we have the king’s leave, we can send the notes as quickly as possible so that they may prepare. I would have them all inside while we are driving the spiders and admonish them to remain inside until we send word they may leave the safety of secure structures. Also remind them that all areas where spiders might take refuge should be secured. And send a message to Erelas,” I added. “I will expect him to be waiting at the elf-path. From where he is now in the forest, he should have ample time to be in position.”

“The messages will be ready within minutes, my lord,” he said. He was already writing furiously as I left his office to find the king.

As I anticipated, I found my parents still in Legolas’s chamber. “We are beginning to see some slight movement in his legs,” Naneth told me. “But his fever is still far too high. Guilin just gave him something for it,” she said.

My heart ached for my little brother. He was now flushed with fever and the bruise under his eye from his fight with Belas had deepened to a dark purple and red blotch. As if sensing that I was looking at the bruise, Adar asked, “How did he come to have such a mark on his face?”

Feeling my spine become rigid, I said, “That is a story for another time, if I may, my lord. At this time, I would wish to speak with you for a few moments. There is information I think you will wish to hear.”

Naneth’s head jerked up toward me. I smiled weakly. “The news is welcome, my lady.” She returned to her vigilant watch over Legolas.

“Let us go into the corridor,” Adar said as he stood. His hand drifted over Naneth’s shoulder as he walked past her. I followed him out the door and closed it softly behind me.

After explaining the news from the patrols and what I had planned, he nodded and placed his hand on my shoulder. “This is indeed encouraging news,” he said. “Despite the grief the aberrant spiders have caused, they have in the end, aided us in ridding the woods of their foul kin.” He smiled. “You have my leave to do as you see fit. I hope that Legolas will be comfortable enough that I will be able to attend the meeting with the village leaders, but if not, then I would have you tell them what you have told me and explain your plans.”

“I will do so,” I said.

“Good,” he said as he gave my shoulder one last quick squeeze.

“I will go now and tell Celelion that I will leave him in charge of my office while Seregon and I are away and begin the preparations,” I said.

“You may go,” he said as he placed his hand on the handle of Legolas’s door. Stopping, he turned back to me and grimaced slightly. “He has been fighting, has he not?”

“The masters will send me a full report when they are back,” I said cautiously, “but most likely, I will not receive it until I return. I expect that they will handle any problems that may have arisen on the games.”

Adar nodded. “Your naneth will not be pleased.”

“I expect not,” I said, fully aware that Adar would not be pleased either that Legolas had allowed himself to be involved in such an unseemly display. Disciplinary issues regarding my youngest brother would have to wait. Legolas, like all novices, was responsible for telling his parents when he was disciplined for infractions, and I would not report the fight to Adar unless he ordered me directly to do so.

“Then I will speak with you later,” he said and went back into Legolas’s chamber.

As I came to my office, I ducked into Culalda’s. He stood as I walked only to the doorway. “Have Lord Seregon immediately send the notices to the villagers and to Lord Erelas that he and I discussed.” He nodded and followed me out into the corridor to go to Seregon’s office.

Feeling cautiously optimistic and with my direction clear, I left the palace to seek out Celelion and tell him of the changed plans. In the original plan he was to travel with us, but now that I had decided to have him command temporarily from my office, he would have to make adjustments of his own. Word also had to be sent to the gathered warriors.

As I descended the steps from the Great Door, I saw standing on the Green, two of Sordien’s party. They were speaking to another Elf I had not seen before. I supposed he could have been a part of their group, and I had simply not taken notice of him. Their conversation ceased abruptly as I came near. All three bowed. One of the group I had met previously, but could not recall his name, bowed again and swept his hand nervously out toward the strange Elf. “My lord Aldamir, this is Calith. He is from our village.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” I said, politely, but edged slightly around him to be on my way. At that moment, I saw Elenna running from the path leading to her aunt’s cottage, her skirts gathered into her hands and her hair flying out behind her. The troubled look on her face startled me. I took a step toward her.

Calith, unable to see her, spoke, “It is my pleasure to meet you, my lord. Some of my friends and I have only arrived this morning to accompany those from our village back home. I am told that plans have been made.”

Having momentarily forgotten about him, I turned back to him to give him as quick an answer as possible and then, excuse myself to go to Elenna. “Yes,” I said absently, but could not help but wonder why he and his friends had left the safety of their village to travel through such a perilous area of the forest to come to the stronghold. Surely he knew the king would see to the safety of village leaders’ party.

Before I could make my excuses to depart from him, he went on, “I will wait to see what the king would have us do then. My main concern is the safe travel of my betrothed, and I will travel when she does.”

“Your betrothed?” I said confused. Other than Calendon’s wife, I knew of no other female among the villagers’ party besides Elenna. Perhaps, I thought, he was betrothed to a maiden here and had merely come to collect her.

Breathlessly, Elenna came to a stop behind Calith. Turning quickly to her, he smiled and reached out his hand to place it on her arm. There was a sureness of familiarity in his touch that stopped me cold.

Distress turned to panic on her face.

“I am certain you have met,” Calith said, cheerfully. “I am pleased to say that Elenna and I are to be wed.”

A physical blow could not have struck me with any more force. My breath left my lungs like the scattering of a flock of startled birds, quick and frantic. A loud roar thundered in my ears as my blood pumped, rushing in rhythmic tremors. My whole body felt wildly out of control. The air itself seemed to crumble, and all I could see was Calith’s smiling face. My salvation was found only in the discipline of my years upon years of being a warrior, and I grabbed onto this lifeline as if it were the last rope to prevent me from drowning. Schooling my face to the neutral expression of a warrior setting his duty before his heart, I stood completely still. I could not chance a glance at Elenna. “Then you have my best wishes,” I said stiffly, hearing the voice of a commander facing certain ruin coming from me.

As I took a step back to try and steady myself, I noticed the other two members of Sordien’s party had placed a distance between themselves and Calith. They must have expected me to cut this Elf down where he stood, I thought derisively, and truly, the thought crossed my mind. But it would have been futile. To watch his blood seep out onto the Green in front of my adar’s palace would not make her love me. The part she had claimed of me, she had no use for.

As I turned swiftly to go, I heard Elenna say softly, “I can explain.”

Without hesitation or acknowledgement that she had spoken, I walked steadily away. My heart pounded in my throat until I felt as if I would suffocate. No rational thoughts came to me. The landscape of my world had tilted into something foreign and I could not navigate the strange pathways of confusion and betrayal. A pain of such intensity boiled within me that I felt as if bone and muscle, blood and organ were melting from within. I had no regard for where my feet took me; I simply walked until I recognized I was on the eastern edge of the training fields. Catching a low branch of an old beech, I slipped quickly into the tree, climbing until I was in the sturdy branches of the tree’s heart. Blindly and without forethought, I ran, jumping from one tree to the next as I fled toward the less populated forest. There was no caution in my steps as I recklessly dismissed the low, distressed, murmur of the trees. All I wanted was escape and for them to provide the way. When at last I had curved around to the river, I stopped, breathing hard and fighting the urge to scream at the top of my lungs in a primal release that harkened back to a distant pain that was born out of the birthing of Arda. But I could not. Instead, I sank weakly down into the safe, wide branches and merely sat there listening to the terrible rush of blood coursing through my ears.

Feeling so numb and so riddled by pain and doubt, I had ceased to feel anything that I could pinpoint and call by name. I was a blur of nothing and everything, absent from myself and yet wholly in the midst of a maelstrom that threatened all I believed about myself. Unable to settle my disjointed thoughts, I kept coming back to one question: How did this happen? How had I allowed this to happen? In my blind charge into Elenna’s arms, I had walked as meekly as a lamb to slaughter. I had always been cautious, never allowing myself to feel the things I had felt with her, keeping a proper distance from the frivolous behaviors of the young and unwed, always playing the part of the good son, the heir to the throne, the warrior, and the commander. My defenses had been well honed, my walls unbreachable. In the blink of an eye, I had abandoned my good sense, foolishly planning and longing for a life with this maiden. In the seductive circle of her arms, I had ventured further than I had ever thought to go until I was truly bonded in marriage and in the commitment of belonging to only one. My heart and body had betrayed me as surely as she had. I was sickened by my weakness. Never again, I resolved. I was a fool, a complete and utter fool.

The song of the tree at my back changed slightly as someone approached. I felt no warning in this shift, and truly lacked the energy to hide from whoever came toward me. But I knew this was my call back to my duty; my time alone had ended.

Seregon dropped onto the branch and sat down next to me. I kept my eyes on the slow moving waters below us.  “I saw them when I came out of the palace,” he said quietly.

The vision of her standing next to this Calith came afresh to stab me in the heart.

“She looked quite distressed,” he said. “But she told me which way you had gone.”

I stood abruptly. “Come,” I ordered. “We have troops to prepare.”

Seregon jumped to his feet and placed his hand on my arm. “Aldamir…” he started, but I shook him from me and started to climb.

“Aldamir!” he called again.

I stopped, staring into the thick greenery and strong boughs ahead. “I cannot talk now,” I said. “I have more important things to do.” Grasping the limb I would use to launch myself into the neighboring tree, I added tersely, “As do you.”

Wordlessly, Seregon followed me until I dropped to the path near the masters’ cottage. Setting a brisk pace, I went toward the home guard office to do what I had intended before being waylaid by my own ignorance. Seregon’s quiet presence remained at my back, keeping pace with me. I stopped suddenly, feeling ashamed of how rudely I had spoken to him. “Thank you, cousin, but I am fine,” I said.

Seregon place his hand on my shoulder and in the silent moment that followed, offered what little comfort he could give to someone who did not want or deserve any.

When we neared the home guard cottage, I had begun to prepare myself for what was expected of me. As commander of the troops, I had not the luxury of allowing my personal problems to interfere with my duty. And on this day, I was glad to have such obligations.

The waiting warriors milled about. After I had greeted them briefly, I went inside to find Celelion and his second, Duilin, working at their desks. Both stood as Seregon and I entered. Seregon stepped forward, removed a folded sheet of parchment from his tunic and flipped it open.  I stared at it for a moment, thinking how odd it was that something official had creases and bends when it should have been flat. Apparently he had been on his way to see Celelion as well when he encountered Calith and Elenna. “Instead of relocating the villagers,” he said, “we will make a sweep of the infested areas in the western woods and drive the spiders to the south. These are the three units as I have arranged them,” he said. “Send word to all listed and have them prepared to depart at first light in the morning. If you have any questions or need to address this in any way, see me.”

Celelion nodded. “As you command, my lord.” For a moment, he eyed me with a scrutiny that I found uncomfortable, but then, he seemed to dismiss whatever he detected and went on to say, “I will have the troops ready.”

“And you, Celelion,” I said, “I would have you remain at the stronghold and command in my absence. Duilin will temporarily command the home guard.”

“As you wish, commander,” Celelion replied. “I will have my office prepared by end of today.”

“Very well,” I said, and then went on, “Have all the troops mustered by this afternoon. I wish to address them briefly.” Celelion nodded again.  I glanced to Seregon. “While you and Celelion complete your preparations, I will speak to Hîrorn. I saw him as I came in.”

When I found him, Tree was standing with another warrior who had long gone back to the woods and like Tree, had returned with my call for aid. Tree’s head was bent low as he listened to what his friend was telling him. As I approached, I heard Tree say, “Are you certain he is here?” The other nodded, but then, upon seeing me, he straightened quickly and saluted. Tree turned slowly, placed his hand over his heart and bowed. “My lord, commander,” he said.

“Hîrorn,” I said, “I would have a word with you.”

“Of course,” he replied, following me to the side of the cottage.

“I have new information that has altered our task in the west,” I said, revealing to him the plans. “I would still have you captain a unit. Later this afternoon after I have met with the village leaders and addressed the troops, I would wish for you to meet with Seregon and me as we review tactics. The three units will need to know where our fellow warriors are at all times and what to expect of them. And I would welcome your thoughts regarding the terrain.” No one knew the woods better than he. He nodded. “I will send for you as soon as I know what time Seregon and I will be free to meet. The king is still with Legolas, and his condition will determine the time we will meet with the villagers,” I said.

Tree’s brows knitted slightly. “I heard he had been bitten. How is the little one?”

I cringed. By that time, I felt certain the entire realm knew. “As one would expect,” I said. “But Guilin feels he will recover and thus far, the venom of the red-banded spider appears to follow the same course as the ones we are familiar with.” I took a step to leave, struggling with the weight of knowing my brother was lying in the palace fighting a battle with spider venom for the right to his own body. I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping, at least for the time I needed to organize the troops, to banish the memory of Legolas folding under the assault as the venom coursed through him. The shock of Elenna being betrothed was so tightly interwoven with fear for my brother that I simply did not know if I could distinguish my feelings. For me, at that moment, pain was simply pain. Taking a deep breath, I glanced back at Tree. He was watching me closely, undoubtedly reading the pain and guilt I was trying so hard to conceal.  “I will send for you as soon as I know the hour we will meet,” I said.

As I turned to go, he called my name. “May I speak freely, my lord?”

I sighed. “When have you ever not spoken freely, Tree?”

A faint smile creased his mouth, but it was gone so quickly that I wondered if I had imagined it.

“I have known you since the day you came into this world,” he said. “I have served Oropher and Thranduil. My loyalty is with my king and commander.”

“I know this,” I said.

“Then you will know that a warrior does not serve for as long as I have and not grow to care for those whom he serves,” he said.

I nodded slowly, finally beginning to understand where this conversation might be headed. And the subject was one I did not wish to discuss.

“I do not offer my allegiance lightly, my lord. I would not have come back if I did hold such respect for the king and his family.”

“I understand, Tree, but I do not understand what you are trying to say,” I told him.

“Forgive me, my lord, but I knew about Elenna and her betrothal. I had heard the news from others of her village. Calith told them before they departed to come here. I was at a loss as whether to inform you of what I had heard. There is no silver ring upon her finger, and I wondered if Calith was simply dreaming as he is wont to do. He has pursued her since they were elflings.” He bowed his head. “I ask your forgiveness for leaving you unguarded. I should have spoken up.”

“You have done nothing wrong,” I said, struggling once again to prevent the pain from welling up from deep inside me. “This is of no matter. I am not in the position to engage in a serious relationship. I have duties that require too much of me.” I smiled as genuinely as possible. “Think no more of it. I would have you at my back any time. You have not left me unguarded,” I said, knowing full well that I was alone responsible for my own errors in judgment.

“Thank you, my lord,” he said. A quicksilver smile flashed to his face. “I will see that Calith is lost if you so desire?”

I laughed. “That will not be necessary, old friend, but I appreciate the offer,” I said. Coaxing a smile from me had been his design and in that, he succeeded. His reaffirmation of his loyalty to the king and to me was greatly appreciated during this time when I doubted myself so thoroughly. Having the respect of this seasoned warrior was more than I could ask for.

Seregon had come out of the cottage as I started back toward the palace. Catching up to me, he fell in beside me. We spoke little, and only then when he relayed to me what details I needed to know that had been reported to him by Celelion.

As we passed through the Great Doors, the guards saluted and the senior warrior turned to me. “The king left word for you, my lord, to come to his office when you returned.”

We stopped at the outer door of Adar’s office and I turned to Seregon. “Notify Galion and the steward that we will not require the rations for the villagers, but will require only what is needed for the warriors and the time of our departure so that they may prepare.”

“As you command,” he said.

“After I meet with the king and the village leaders, I will address the troops and send for Tree,” I said.

“The village leaders?” he asked, his brow wrinkling.

I forced a faint smile. “I can manage this.”

“I do not doubt you,” he replied. “However, I do not know about you, but I am in the mood to slay something, and it is a testament to my training that I had slain no villagers yet. Let us find some spiders quickly ere I lose control.”

I could not help but laugh. “Indeed,” I chuckled. “I will join you.” Waving my hand in leave, I said, “Go before we get into trouble with the king.”

I found Adar in his office, busily recording in the ledger where he kept notes to himself regarding rulings and thoughts about petitions.  Glancing up at me, he waved me to a chair. When he had completed the entry he was working on, he asked, “Is everything in order?”

“Yes, my lord,” I said. “Changes are being made that will ready us to leave. Unless unforeseen circumstances interfere, we will take our leave in the morning.”

“I see,” he said, slowly, with a serious gaze fixed firmly on me. Under his scrutiny, I felt naked and vulnerable as if I would have no need to tell him of my failings; they were so plainly written on me that he need only look upon me to know them accurately. Adar has a keen perception about most people and where his sons are concerned, he rare misses anything important. Between Naneth’s ability to read emotions and his to quickly glean out what was going on, I often felt as if I had no privacy. Whether Adar knew I was uncomfortable with his ability to know me so well, I do not know, but he did not waver in his stare. In return, I knew him well enough to know that by his thoughtful stillness that he wished to say what was on his mind, but he did not.

With the intent of venturing onward with my report, if for no other reason than to be done with it, I stopped before I uttered anymore of what I had to tell him. My heart lurched as it occurred to me that I was not his only concern. “Is something wrong? Is Legolas not recovering as expected?”

“When he is awake he is in a lot of pain, but Guilin is keeping him well sedated. Hopefully by tomorrow the worst will be over. Some time will be needed for him to regain his strength, but he will.”

“Then you wish for me to handle the meeting so that you can return to Legolas?” I asked, relieved and hoping to direct the conversation. I had reports to make to him and I would do so, but I wished for him to come by the information about Elenna at a time of my choosing. I realized that I would have to tell him soon since the news of Calith would come to him quickly by way of the palace gossip.

“No, Legolas is sleeping. Your naneth will send for me if your brother awakens,” he said, casting his gaze to his hands. I watched silently as he rubbed his thumbs together.

I said nothing for a heart’s beat, and then went on, “Would it please you, my lord, to hear my report of the spider attack now?”

“Yes,” he said.

My report was factual and detailed but devoid of any personal musings. The time for me to tell him of the missed actions on my part was drawing near, but my mind would not clear enough for me to place the proper words in order. I was overwhelmed by all I needed to say and the fear I felt of seeing anger and disappointment on his face. Instead, I recounted for him Erelas’s patrol’s arrival. He was already aware that they had come on the heels of the spiders for I had told him of the message I had received from Erelas that morning regarding any escaping spiders I had sent him to look for, and I gave him little new information, but merely stalled until I could gain my balance enough to confess with some shred of dignity.

Adar listened without comment, his face impassive and his breath calm. When I had nothing more to say that would delay the inevitable, I took a deep breath, and though I reminded myself that I was the commander reporting to his king, it was the errant son who opened his mouth and spoke.

“Adar….” I began, faltering as I struggled to find the right words. “I am sorry about the novices being subjected to the spider attack. I have reviewed the dispatches to see what I missed that left the novices and their masters vulnerable, but I cannot see where my mistake was. Still, I made an error in judgment somewhere in all this. I accept full responsibility for not recalling the novices sooner. I am deeply regretful for not having better command of the situation.” My face felt as if it were on fire. “And I am most sorry for allowing harm to come to my brother. I do not ask your forgiveness for I do not deserve it.  I expect that I will have to earn your pardon. But please, Adar, know that I would never willingly allow harm to come to Legolas.”

He leaned forward and placed his folded hands on his desk. “Aldamir, I am not angry with you. I meant what I said earlier; you are not responsible for this.”

I closed my hands around the arms rest of the chair, feeling leather and sweat slide in an uneasy companionship. “But I am in command. I am responsible for what has happened to Legolas. My error has caused harm to my brother.”

“You are young, iôn-nín,” he said. “And you are young in your duties of command. When you have commanded longer, you will come to understand that you cannot control all circumstances where someone might be injured.”

“If I had called them in sooner…” I said.

“Then they might have encountered the spiders somewhere else in the forest on their way home,” he said. “You cannot predict all possible outcomes. All you can do is make the best decision that you can given the information that you have.”

“How can you and Naneth ever forgive me?” I said softly. “Legolas is suffering now because of the decision I made.”

“There is nothing to forgive, child,” he said. “We can spend our lives asking ourselves what we could have done differently, but unless our actions would have truly changed the outcome, then it is time wasted. I see nothing that makes me feel you erred in your judgment. You made a reasonable decision based on the knowledge you had and the fact that the part of the woods where the novices were should have been safe.”

“But it was not safe,” I said.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I know you feel the burden of guilt right now, but now I must ask you: Can you forgive yourself?”

“I do not know,” I said unable to meet his eyes.

“You have already in your time as commander made difficult decisions and you will make them again,” he said. “You must know that this part of your duty will not cease.”

I nodded miserably.

“Then you must be prepared to accept that things will not always go as planned,” he said. When I offered no reply, he said, “Aldamir, I have made decisions in my life I would take back if I could, but I cannot. I did what I thought was right at the time, but the consequences were difficult to bear.” I looked up at him and saw true pain on his face. In his eyes, I thought I saw the memories of long ago hurts playing out in detail. “I am the one,” he said, “who made the decision some 40 years ago that I needed to see Dol Guldur from a closer place. I felt my decision was sound. Your uncle, my wife’s brother and my closest friend died because I made that decision. His sons are without their father. His wife is without her husband. This was a most bitter consequence to bear. I still grieve for Tarondor, but I did what I thought was necessary.”

“Can you forgive yourself?” I asked.

He smiled gently. “Most days,” he said. “But I believe that Tarondor forgives me. He loved me as I loved him, and I know that I would not have held him responsible. These simple truths are the only solace I have.”

“I am sorry, Adar,” I said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Aldamir,” he said.

I nodded. “Thank you, Adar,” I said. “I will not allow something like this to happen again.”  But it will was the unspoken truth he did not say and a truth that I knew I would have to face again and again. At that point, I did not want to think about what the future would bring.

When he said nothing further, I shifted uneasily in my chair.  There was more on his mind and I feared that I also knew what it was. My father is rarely reticent about discussing whatever he wants, but his approach to me since I had entered his office had been as if he found me fragile, and he needed to engage me cautiously. This was a thought that disconcerted me to no end, even offended me that he found me brittle. I had always and would continue to bear the full weight of my responsibilities.

I straightened my back as he dallied with the quill he had been using and when he still did not speak, I finally said, “Is there something else you wish to discuss with me, my lord?”

Slowly his eyes lifted and came to rest on me. “How are you, iôn-nín?”

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach and involuntarily, I pulled myself up even straighter. Humiliation flooded me. I was not surprised that he knew about Elenna, but I was more than uneasy that I was now faced with discussing this item on the list of my failings. I have always suspected that Galion is Adar’s chief informant in the palace, but adar would never admit such. Galion is in the position to hear the local gossip that is brought in with the servants and then weed out what he feels my parents should be told. This news had flown with a speed that surprised me. “I am fine, Adar,” I said, sounding stiff and formal.

Looking over me with the critical eye of a father, he said, “I regret that you should have to meet with Sordien today, but it cannot be helped.”

“I feel no discomfort with this meeting, Adar,” I said. “Such is my duty.”

“I would not have expected something like this from Elenna or Sordien,” he said, a flare of anger shooting through his eyes and disappearing as quickly as the lifespan of a glowing ember bursting from a fire. “I suppose this is what your naneth sensed,”

“Adar,” I began, searching for the words to tell him that I did not wish to discuss this aspect of my life. Everything in my life was fragmented at that point, and I did not think I could bear to disclose my feelings about my ruined relationship with Elenna.  His concern was appreciated, but I was managing to keep this hurt safely tucked aside at that point, and I did not wish it to resurface. I did not want to discuss this with anyone, especially not my father. I was humiliated enough that I had been taken so easily by a pretty smile and inviting eyes; the last thing I wanted was more pity.  In fact, I simply wanted to ignore that this entire affair had ever happened. “I do not know what to say, my lord. It is over and that cannot be changed. I mean no offense, but I wish to concentrate on my duty at hand. There will be time enough to sort this out later, if it is still important to me to do so.”

But I was offended that he had brought the subject up, angry even. Plainly Elenna did not find me good enough. I was angry with her for not returning my feelings and for deceiving me. I was angry with Adar for acknowledging my shortcomings. I was angry with the entire realm for bearing witness to my foolishness. But most of all, I was angry with myself. The only thing I was confident in at that moment was that I would never travel this path again, and I would never again allow anything to divert me from my duty. I had no doubt in my mind that Adar heard the festering anger in my voice. He showed no reaction to my curt reply, but no one could have missed my feelings on discussing this issue. I simply would not.

By his rigid stillness, I knew he did not want to let this go so easily, but he nodded slowly as if resigned to his son’s inability to deal with his own life. “I understand. Remember that your naneth and I are here if you wish to talk.”

“There is nothing to say, Adar, but I thank you for your offer.”

After another moment of silence, he stood. I came to my feet as he did, moving carefully for fear of disturbing the uneasy truce. Adar hesitated for a moment as if he would speak further, but to my relief, he did not broach the subject again “Then let us tell the village leaders about your plan to give them back their homes,” he said softly as he started for the door. I followed silently.

To my immense relief, the meeting with the village leaders went quickly. Sordien was unusually quiet. He did not look at me, nor did he address me at any point. He spoke only to the king. The discomfort in the room was palpable, but the joy and relief of the two village leaders, though reserved, was quite evident.

When the meeting ended, I went directly to my office where I closed the door and sat in silence for a moment. All that mattered was that facing Sordien was over, and I had survived it. I would move on to the next duty.

The remainder of the day went much as I expected. I addressed the troops, I met with Seregon and Tree, and I completed the last of those tasks that needed to be done before we took our leave. Once I was satisfied that all was in order, I sent Culalda home and Seregon to bed. Finally alone and lacking a duty to keep me from myself, I took a bottle of wine out into Naneth’s garden to listen to the soothing chorus of the night’s music.

In all my travels about the common areas and the guard cottages, not once had I seen Elenna or Calith. For this, I was grateful. A delicate balance existed in me, and I could not allow the scales to tip. For all my years of commanding, I do not think I have ever expended so much energy keeping myself on task as I had on this day. I was exhausted by the time I settled in the garden. I knew I would sleep that night, but before I could, I had to find some peace of mind. There was no better place to find this peace than under the dark cover of night, alone with the trees, the night singers, and the twinkling stars.

Adar came to me for a short while and we did talk, sometimes in generalities and sometimes on point. Though I did not truly want to talk about my private affairs yet, his presence comforted me, and by the time he took his leave to return to Legolas and Naneth, I felt better. He had been kind enough to not press me, but he said what he came to say. Despite my desire to keep to myself in this matter, I understood his concern. He was sending his son into danger the following day and needed reassurance for himself that I was ready. I had assured him that I was, though that was only a partial truth; but I would be by the time I was required to lead.

The following morning as the soft summer light broke over the forest, I stood on the Great Steps watching as the warriors assembled, and the horses were brought from the stables.

Seregon was busily moving among the warriors, making certain all was in readiness. Culalda brought me what dispatches had arrived that morning and as I read them, I was pleased to find that no orcs had been sighted above the elf-path. Erelas was in route to his position and would be stationed by the time we began the sweep. Farendi had sent a small group of his patrol to watch over the villages while the remainder continued to guard the border as usual. Everything was in order.

Amidst the controlled chaos, Adar and Naneth appeared at the Great Doors. Silence fell over the troops. I approached my parents and bowed. “My lord, my lady, all is ready. With your leave, we will depart.”

Adar looked out over the assembled troops with the keen eye of a warrior and a king. Naneth did not take her eyes from me. Shifting under her intense gaze, I could only hope that I was under control enough so as to not worry her or cast doubt upon my abilities to command. Keeping my thoughts focused, I let my love for her come to the surface of my thoughts. She smiled kindly at me.

When Adar turned from his review of the troops, he held his arms out to me. I clasped them in a warrior’s farewell. Once he accepted this tradition, he pulled me close and held me to his chest. “Go with care, iôn-nín,” he said softly.

“As always, Adar,” I replied.

When he released me, I turned to my naneth. “I ask your blessings upon your warriors, my lady,” I said. “May we offer protection to you and to those for whom we care.  And may we return safely to you.”

She smiled sadly. “You have my blessings, commander. Go safely, content in our love and gratitude.” She held out her arms and I walked into them. With a quick embrace and a light kiss to my cheek, she released me. “You take my heart with you, my child.”

“And mine always remains with you, Naneth,” I said.

Taking my place at Adar’s left, he addressed the troops. “May the Valar watch over you and hold you in their hands of light and protection. The entire realm recognizes your willingness to serve and offer our gratitude. May your travels be swift and your return even more so. Go with our blessings”

The assembled troops bowed their heads in respect and in acceptance of duty.

With the formalities completed, I took a step forward and turned back to my parents. “We will return within a fortnight. My love to you both.”

“Give Erelas our love when you see him,” Naneth said.

“I will do so, Naneth,” I smiled and turned to Adar. “By your leave, my lord, we will depart.”

“You may go,” he said. I saluted him and went to join the warriors. As I swung atop my mount, I saw the family members of the warriors slowly retreat back to allow us departure. Seregon rode to my side and the troops parted as we moved to the head of the column. In a small alcove of trees, my eyes fell on the assembled villagers that had come to see us off. Elenna stood behind her adar and his sister with her head bowed. Calith stood at her side. His eyes caught mine for a moment, and I did not like the look of triumph I saw there. Quickly, I averted my gaze and looked forward to the forest and to my duty.

                                                     Chapter Nine: Legolas

“I will stay with him while you dress,” I heard Adar say softly as I wandered upward through the thick, milky layers of deep sleep. “We will need to see the troops off shortly.”

Only the faint rustle of my naneth moving about could be heard. “I will not be long,” she said. “I hated to ask Noreth to stay with Legolas while we are seeing the troops off.  She will want to see Seregon before he leaves.”

A chair creaked and groaned in soft complaint as someone—I assumed Adar—sat down. “Who will stay?” he asked.

My naneth made an amused snorting sound. “Daeron,” she said dryly.

Adar chuckled. “Help will be nearby if he requires it.”

“I hope Legolas will sleep. He has had a difficult last day and night. He needs the rest,” Naneth said. “I will be ready quickly.” The door of my chamber opened and closed quietly.

My body felt limp and weak, and my shoulder ached as if I alone had been holding up the walls of my father’s stronghold against the tide of ruin. Any movement seemed too much of an effort and even the smallest twitch of a muscle was sluggish and heavy. Little memory remained of the aftermath of the spider bite or my journey back to my own bed. All that stayed with me was a snatch of memory here and there that spoke of terrible pain and roiling nausea. At least once, I know Adar held my head as Guilin poured his vile potions down my throat and ordered me to swallow. Beyond these meager details, I knew little of what time of day or night it was or how long I had been safely in my bed. Though I was far from feeling well, I was still relieved to find that I was back to myself and capable of staying in the present.

Finally, when I had awakened enough, I forced a crack in my eyes to see Adar seated by my bedside. He sat still and quiet, reading from a stack of papers he held. The day was underway, I thought, as he was dressed in formal robes. No crown or circlet was upon his bent head. It is morning then, I realized. Naneth had gone to dress and Adar was not yet ready for court.

My tongue felt thick and dry as I touched my tongue to my parched lips. “Adar,” I whispered, my voice sounding brittle and course as if it had grown rusty from disuse.

Immediately, he put the papers aside and leaned forward to brush my hair from my forehead. “Good morning, little one,” he smiled. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” I said, trying to place a smile of reassurance on my face, but feeling instead, the faint quivering of strained muscles. “But I am thirsty.”

He moved swiftly to pour a cup of water from a pitcher at my bedside. Gently, he placed his hand behind my head and lifted me to place the cup to my lips.  Despite the slightly acrid taste of water after being so ill, I drank gratefully, relaxing in the relief of feeling the cool drink trickling down my parched throat.

After I had taken all I could, Adar placed the cup on the night table and sat back to look me over with the keen eye of a knowing father. “Guilin says that you will feel weak for several days, but you will be back to yourself soon,” he said.

“I am feeling much better,” I said. Indeed this was true, but I could have only said, if pressed, that I felt only as well as someone who had been trampled by a pack of stampeding wargs.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Adar said. “You have had a difficult time.”

“I recall very little,” I said.

“That is just as well,” he said. “I would rather you focus on getting better.”

“I am,” I said.

“The other novices returned yesterday,” he told me as he repositioned himself deeper into the large arm chair. “I am told the games went well until the encounter with the spiders. No one else was harmed in the attack.”

I nodded, relieved that everyone was well, but found that even so simple a movement as moving my head caused pain to shoot through my neck and my shoulder. I could not contain the grimace that pushed my face into a frown.

“Are you in pain?” Adar asked as he sat forward again.

“A little,” I said. “But I think I will be fine if I do not move.”

“Guilin will be back soon, and he will give you something to ease your pain,” he said as he leaned closer, “unless you need for me to send for him now?”

“No,” I said. “I will wait. If it is not worse than it is now, then I do not think I need anything.”

“He said that if you were feeling well enough this morning, we would see about some broth,” Adar said. “Are you hungry?”

“I am fine, Adar,” I said exasperation finally sounding in my voice. There are times when he hovers about me that I think he is worse than Naneth. When Adar is worried, he becomes more than demanding than usual. Naneth has told me that this is because he is used to having his commands obeyed and when something is not within his power to command, he tries harder to bring it back under back under his control, even if it is not possible.

Slowly, he sat back again into the cushions, but his eyes did not stop scrutinizing me. With the tip of his finger, he lightly touched his cheekbone. “How did you come by that bruise?”  His brows rose. “How odd that Daeron has a similar one.”

I wanted to touch my face, but the weight of my hand felt as if an iron ball pinned it to the bed.

“Should I look any further to see who else might have similar marks?” he asked.

“No,” I said softly. Though I had no idea that I had a bruise on my face, I had no doubt as to where it had come from. “Adar, I…” I stammered. “I had a disagreement with one of the novices.”

“Not Daeron?” he asked.

“No,” I said, quickly. “He…he tried to separate us and the other novice hit me while Daeron was pulling me away. Daeron was angry that Belas hit me. I suppose that is how he also got a bruise.”

“I see,” Adar said. “Daeron and Belas also fought?”

I nodded and winced again at the cramps that moved through my neck.

“What caused this squabble?” Adar asked.

“Belas had been taunting one of the other novices throughout the games and…I did not mean to hit him, but…he made me angry,” I said. I saw no reason to tell him the things Belas had said about Aldamir. They were simply not true.

“Legolas, you know that fighting is not the way to deal with disagreements,” he said. “Why did you not talk to the masters about this?”

“I intended to, but I did not stop to think when everything happened.”

“By allowing him to anger you, iôn-nín, you gave him control of the situation,” he said. “You realize this, do you not?” 

All I could muster was a miserable nod.

“I am certain there will be consequences from the masters,” he said.

A soft knock to the door saved me from further discussion and what I feared would have been the consequences that would be delivered from him. “Come,” Adar called.

Daeron came in, smiling. As Adar had said, he was also sporting a black eye that covered not only his eye, but also a bluish-black mark that ran down the side of his cheek. “Good morning, Uncle,” he said cheerfully. Daeron then turned to me; his smile brightened further. “I am glad to see you awake.”

“Thank you,” I muttered.

“Good morning, Daeron,” Adar said as he stood. He looked down upon me.  “The troops are leaving this morning to go to the western woods. Your naneth and I will see them off. We will return shortly. In the meantime, Daeron will stay with you while we are gone.”

“I will be fine,” I said.

“Do not attempt to get out of the bed,” Adar ordered. “Daeron will call for assistance should you need anything.”

“Yes, Adar,” I sighed.

As soon as Adar had closed the door, Daeron sat down in the chair. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“I am fine,” I repeated by rote, and slightly wearied of the repeated inquiry. I was more interested in what had happened during and after the spider attack. “Or I was until Adar asked me why I have a bruise on my face.”

Daeron’s eyes widened. “Is he angry?”

“Not happy would be a better way to describe him,” I said.

“I suppose he is waiting until the masters talk to you before he exacts his pound of flesh,” Daeron said.

“If you had not arrived, then I think I would have heard more. But as it stands, I do not think Adar will say anything until I am on my feet and he can keep me there throughout his sentencing,” I said. I smiled. “Do not think that you are off the hook with him either. I am certain that he will have something to say to you as well, if he has not already spoken to you.”

Daeron shook his head. “I have not been called to the office of doom yet, if that is what you are asking,” he said. “But I have already suffered the fire of the angry naneth.” He sighed. “She alternated hugging me and scolding me while trying to place an herb soaked cloth on my face and prepare a bath for me…as if I could not fill a tub on my own.”

I smiled weakly. Aunt Noreth has always been an endless source of amusement for me. Where my naneth is very loving and warm, Noreth is a natural caretaker of all children, even when those children have grown up. There is such love and kindness in her fussing, that it is hard to take offense, though Daeron still finds her mothering to be maddening. Seregon has learned to accept this with grace and not a small amount of amusement himself. As a matter of fact, I think Seregon tends to fuss over her when she treats him in this manner and in the confusion of both of them fussing over one another she seems to lose sight of her original goal and ends up doing his bidding.  “Has Seregon said anything?” I asked, knowing that what Seregon had said would prepare me for what I could expect from Aldamir.

“No,” Daeron told me. “Thankfully, he has not had time to worry much with me. All I have seen of him has been in passing.”

Suddenly, a thought came to me. “What about the masters? Have they said anything to you or to Belas?” I asked.

Daeron shook his head. “Not yet,” he groaned. “Everyone was so tired when we got in yesterday, they simply dismissed us. I expect they will call us to them this morning.”

I snorted. “Apparently they have told Adar. Or Aldamir and Seregon did. Even though he did not say so, I think Adar knew that the bruise on my face came from an Elf and not a spider.”

“Melda must have told him,” Daeron said with a slight aggrieved tone to his voice. “We will certainly hear an earful from the masters now. Can you imagine how angry they are with us? They had to tell the king that we had been fighting. Now I am truly nervous about meeting with them.”

“Maybe they will wait until I am able to return to training and talk to us all at once,” I suggested, hopefully.

“Perhaps,” Daeron said. “But I would be surprised. I do not think they will let this pass until then. I expect that they will say something today.” He grimaced. “And then I will be cleaning out stables or scrubbing armor for a month.”

“I will be joining you soon enough,” I said. “How did Belas behave on the trip home?”

Daeron shrugged. “He was quiet. No one spoke much. I do not think anyone could quite believe what had happened. And the masters set a brisk pace back to the stronghold. There was little time to talk.”

“And Alar?” I asked.

A bright smile lit his face. “I do not know what you recall, but Alar was a sight to behold during the battle. For a small one, he certainly did his part.”

Thinking back, I did indeed recall little of the battle. Events had unfolded so quickly, and I was jarred from my anger with Belas with such speed, that everything turned into a blur where I was aware of little more than drawing and releasing my bow and the whirl of my knives as I simply reacted to the threat. “I do not remember many details,” I said. “I was busy unsuccessfully defending myself.”

Daeron laughed. “Alar stood his ground and fought bravely. I do not think he knew he had it in him.”

“He handled his weapons well then?” I asked, surprised to hear this.

“He was fine,” he said. “I would not say he is ready to be a warrior yet, but I do not think I could say that about any of us. But he did well enough. Belas was the most surprised, I would say.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

Daeron shrugged. “I do not know if he said anything. If he did, I did not hear it.” He grinned. “I got the impression from the look that was on his face when he looked at Alar that he was quite shocked. He looked as stunned as if he had just met Elbereth.”

I chuckled. “How did Belas react during the battle with the spiders?”

Daeron shrugged again. “He did well enough too, but he was as shaken as the rest of us. And I must say I was pleased to see that he was shaking like a leaf in a stiff wind when it was over. He was not as collected as he would have had us believe he would be.”

“With Alar at his back, no less,” I said.

Daeron smiled. “With Alar at his back.”

I smiled, feeling somewhat mischievous. “And you, cousin? How did you do when the spiders charged us?”

Daeron rolled his eyes and grimaced. “I survived.”

“You stood your ground too,” I reminded him. I did remember Daeron at my back and I could see in memory the sight of him battling with his blade flashing and cutting its way through the spiders as they came at us on the ground.

“I do not think I had much choice,” he said. “And they made me angry.”

“I see,” I smiled. “So if we can convince the garden spiders to insult you, then you will not be bothered by them anymore?”

“I will always be bothered by spiders,” he said. “But my hope is that I will no longer be having night terrors by the time I take my pledge to the king. I am too old to be sleeping with my nana.”

 “Now,” I said, satisfied at least for the moment that Daeron could laugh about the incident, “we have more to worry about than the spiders. The masters are our immediate concern. Surely they must know how Belas treated Alar on this exercise,” I said. “Perhaps they will not be too angry with us.” This was a vain hope I knew, but at that moment I wanted some expectation that getting better and returning to training would not be more painful than a spider bite.

“We do not have to be at training until after the warriors have gone,” he said. “I suppose I will find out then. But I am afraid that I do not share in your optimism that they will understand. I think this will count as not handling the situation well.”

“Unfortunately, I think that you are right,” I said and closed my eyes. “I cannot believe that I allowed Belas to anger me so. I know how he is.” Opening my eyes again, I said, “I did not think he could surprise me with anything he said or did, but I suppose I underestimated him.”

Daeron snorted. “He was out of line when he brought Aldamir into the discussion. And he knew it. He was trying to make you angry.”

“He succeeded,” I groaned.

“The only comfort we have,” he said, “is that Belas will suffer the same fate from the masters as we will. If it were not for how much it will hurt me,” he smiled, “I would be looking forward to what punishment the masters will give out.”

“When are the warriors leaving?” I asked.

“Soon,” he said. “They are nearly ready.”

“Are they going to the villages?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Now that there is hope that the red-banded menaces have been destroyed and many of the black ones dead or fleeing south, they will drive the ones that remain from the area.”

“They are not going to relocate the villages?” I said startled that so much had changed in the short time I had been away on the games. The last I recalled was that Adar was considering moving the villages closer into the protected woods, and I had heard that only in passing. I did not any more than that.

Daeron shook his head. “No, Aldamir feels they can drive the spiders out and the villages can remain where they are.”

I digested this new bit of news. “I suppose Aldamir has mixed feelings about this. If Elenna were closer, then he would be able to see her more often. Now that the villages will not be relocated, he will be days away from her instead of hours.”

Daeron said nothing, and a look I could not interpret crossed his face. “I would not know as Aldamir rarely confides in me,” he said finally with what I thought to be a forced smile. “But I suppose he will be most glad if the spiders can be routed.”

“Of course,” I said, watching Daeron’s strange reaction, “but I do not think I have ever seen him so serious about a maiden. She will be a long way off unless she decides to come here to live.”

The peculiar look crossed his face again, but he shrugged. “I have better sense than to ask any questions about our fearless commander’s personal affairs,” he said. “I do not wish to have my head bitten off.”

“No,” I agreed, “he would not appreciate that.”  When Daeron did not join as heartily in the humor of stepping aside from Aldamir’s irritation as I would have predicted, I knew something more than spiders was afoot. “What is going on?”

“Where?” Daeron asked.

“Here, you dolt,” I said. “Every time I mention Aldamir you get a strange look on your face.”

His eyes widened slightly and then he shrugged. “I suppose just thinking about the commander being angry with us gives me the chills,” he said as he casually swung his feet up to prop them on my bed.

“You are avoiding the question,” I said. “Something is going on, and I know that you know what it is.”

Daeron sat perfectly still. “I suppose it is not a secret,” he said and then gave me a lopsided grim smile. “The whole realm knows by now anyway.”

“Knows what, Daeron?” I said.

“Aldamir and Elenna have split,” he said.

The shock of this news caught me completely off guard. “They have?” I said. “Who initiated this break?”

Daeron shrugged. “I do not know that either of them actually initiated it, though I am not sure what else could have happened.” he said. “A blow-up would probably be more accurate.”

“Over what?” I asked.

“She is betrothed.”

“Betrothed?” I yelped. “But not to Aldamir?”

“No, not to your brother,” Daeron said. “She is betrothed to another Elf from her village.”

“She agreed to wed another Elf while seeing Aldamir?” I asked, stunned.

“Not exactly,” Daeron told me. “She agreed to wed another Elf and then she saw Aldamir.”

“She was betrothed all along?” I said, my voice rising. “How could she do this?” I shook my head and then shut my eyes tightly against the pain that shot through my skull. “Aldamir must be humiliated. We should have told him what Míriel said at the feast on the first night the villagers were,” I said as I struggled to sit up while holding my breath to steady myself against more hurt. “Move your legs,” I ordered. “I want to see him before he leaves.”

Daeron leaned forward and with a slight shove easily pushed me enough until I could no longer stay upright. I fell heavily back into my pillow. “You cannot go,” he said. “You would not make it half way across your room, and I will not carry you.”

“I want to see him before he goes,” I protested.

“He came by to see you this morning, but you were still sleeping like a baby,” he said with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “I bade him and Seregon farewell for the both of us.”

“But I did not see him,” I said as frustration rose in my chest against the feeling of incapacity that I had been dealt by the spider that sank its foul fangs into me. At that moment, if I had been able to lift a knife, I would have delighted in slaying the horrid creature again.

“I have specific orders from the king that you are not to get out of bed,” he said, “and I will not suffer his wrath—or worse, your naneth’s—so that you can fall flat on your face.”

“How was he—when you saw him—how was he doing?” I asked as my heart squeezed tightly with sympathy and concern for my oldest brother. Only last winter, I had been interested in an elleth who was not interested in me. A warrior new to the ranks had captured her attention as I, a mere novice, watched. I felt terrible and no one knew but me that I had been watching her.  Not only had Elenna refused Aldamir for someone else, but everyone knew about it. I could only imagine how awful my brother felt. Aldamir was not one to give his affections lightly. Even I, at my age, knew this. For the short time he had known Elenna, I had thought his feelings for her were apparent, and I had truly believed, they would wed eventually. He must have been hurt and humiliated.

“He seemed well enough when I saw him,” Daeron said. “Seregon told me that he is disappointed and that he feels slightly foolish, but otherwise, he is himself.”

Forcing my arm to do my will, I ran my hand over my face and then let my arm drop fall heavily to the bed. “Disappointed seems a mild way to describe the way he must feel,” I said.

“Legolas,” Daeron said. “Aldamir is fine. When I saw him this morning, he was busy and his mind was elsewhere, but he seemed his normal dull self.” His face brightened with mischief. “I have met the Elf Elenna is betrothed to,” he told me with a sly grin.

“When?” I asked.

“Yesterday,” he said, “after we returned. I was going to run an errand for Naneth, and I crossed paths with him.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Good evening,” Daeron said.

“That is all?” I asked.

“He introduced himself and I introduced myself,” Daeron said. “I knew immediately who he was. Naneth had already told me about him.”

“What does he look like?” I asked.

Daeron twisted his mouth to one side as he apparently contemplated his answer. “He is…pretty.”

“Pretty?” I said astonished by such a description and especially from Daeron. He is a wood-elf and he appreciates beauty as much as anyone else, but I did not think I had ever heard him refer to a male in such a manner. He is more inclined to notice how well a male wields his weapons rather than how well groomed he is.

“Yes, pretty,” he said. “He does not look like the type to get his hands dirty.”

“What exactly does that mean?” I asked, trying to picture this pretty male Elf.

“Well,” Daeron said, drawing out his words, “he looks like the sort of fellow who manipulates others into doing his work.”

“Oh,” I said, giving him a short nod of my head in understanding, “somewhat like you.”

Daeron sighed heavily. “You are so funny, Legolas,” he said dryly. “I can hardly contain my laughter. You should ask your adar to assign you to court jester.”

“I have,” I said. “He does not think I am very humorous.” As best as I could with limbs as sturdy as straw, I punched my pillow up to raise my head. “What else did this clean Elf say?”

“He asked me if I was the king’s nephew, and I said I was and the queen’s too,” he said. “And then he asked if I lived in the palace and I said I did, just like the rest of the family.” Daeron smiled slyly again. “Then he asked me if I knew Lord Aldamir well.” Daeron snorted. “I suppose he did not know that I knew who he was.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I told him that of course, I did. Aldamir is my cousin, though I did not know him as intimately as the maiden he had been seeing. I told him he would have to ask her for specific details.” Daeron smiled. “He turned red as a holly berry.”

“You did not!” I said.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Then he drew himself up and said that she is his betrothed. And I asked him if she knew this.”

“What did he say then,” I asked.

Daeron gave me a silly flat grin. “He told me I was impertinent. Can you imagine that?”

“You are impertinent,” I said.

“Yes,” Daeron said, suddenly turning serious, “and he is trouble. And I do not say that just because of Elenna. I would have found him an indolent slug even had I not known about this unfortunate betrothal. Something about him is not on kilter.”  He waved his hand through the air. “I cannot say exactly what it is about him that I do not like, but I got the feeling that he is a conniving sort.”

“And you gleaned all this from a few minutes of conversation?” I asked.

“His manner is haughty and fussy,” he said. “Seeing who he truly is would not take even you long to uncover and you always look for the best in everyone.” His eyes narrowed. “He thought to take advantage of me and my relationship to Aldamir. I think he wanted to gain information from me about your brother. And he talked down to me like I was too stupid to know when I was being pried for information.” Daeron sniffed lightly. “I did not like him no matter who he is.”

“And he is pretty,” I said, sardonically.

“Too pretty,” he answered.

“Not handsome?” I asked.

“Aldamir is handsome. Seregon is handsome. This Elf is pretty,” Daeron said with finality.

“I see,” I said, thinking over Daeron’s observations. Daeron can be bold when someone rubs him the wrong way, but I have never known him to be rude with someone who has not earned his insults. Still, I could not decide exactly why Daeron was offended by this Elf. I know Daeron is loyal to Aldamir. I did not know for certain that this Elf was plotting against my brother. My experience with Daeron, though, told me that I should give Daeron the benefit of the doubt; he is usually quite astute in his assessments of people. His methods of dealing with them often lack elegance, but he is rarely mistaken about what he senses. “Do you think he intends harm to Aldamir?” I asked.

Daeron snorted. “I would say that he has already harmed Aldamir.”

“But what about Elenna’s part in all this?” I asked. “She deceived them both. Should she not be held accountable?”

“Of course,” he said. “But she is not slimy. I do not know what her thinking was when she got involved with someone else when she is betrothed, but I have not thought she meant Aldamir harm.”

“But she did harm him,” I said.

“Yes, but why?” he said. “I think she really cared for your brother.”

“You are defending her?”  I asked, surprised.

“No, of course not,” he said. “What she did was wrong. But I do not feel malice in her. I do in him.”

Again, I wondered about his keen ability for observations. My naneth senses things about people, though I do not know exactly what she is able to read. At times, she is so accurate that I think she must have spies following me, but she is a mother, and I do not think one can fool them often. Still, if this gift of hers is found in her family--and I have been told that her naneth was also gifted with insight--then perhaps Daeron has something of this knowing about him. If Daeron thought that this Elf from the village was an unsavory character, then I could see no reason to doubt him. “Why would this Elf want to know about Aldamir?” I asked. “Would he not be angry with Elenna for betraying him? Aldamir did not know she was betrothed.”

Daeron shook his head. “I do not know why he is interested in Aldamir,” he said. “You would think that he would be more interested in finding out why the person he was supposed to wed would be seeing someone behind his back.”

“I do not like this,” I said. “I see no sense in him wanting to know anything about Aldamir unless he was looking for something to use against him.”

“There is nothing about Aldamir that anyone could use against him,” Daeron said. “He is as straight as an arrow. He would never deceive anyone intentionally. Perhaps this Elf is merely sizing up his competition.”

“Does ‘this Elf’ have a name?” I asked.

“Calith,” Daeron said as if name itself was vile. “But I prefer to call him ‘this Elf’; it makes me feel better.”

Shifting slightly forward, I said, “I think this Elf named Calith bears watching.”

“You will notice that you are not in the position to watch anything but your ceiling, Legolas,” he smiled, “unless you wish me to invite him to your chambers so that you can peek out at him from under your covers.”

“I will not be here forever,” I said, a plan forming in my head. “You can watch him until Guilin allows me to leave my chambers.”

“Oh yes,” Daeron snorted. “That is a good idea. I can watch him between training and mucking out the stables or whatever punishment I draw from the masters for planting my fist in Belas’s jaw. Not to mention that I still have studies with our very understanding tutor. Just when do you suppose I will have time to track this Elf?”

I smiled. “I have never known such trivial things to interfere with you finding time to do as you wanted.”

“Who said I wanted to spy on this Elf?” he asked. “If I recall correctly, this is your idea.”

“You would let this Elf harm Aldamir?” I asked.

“Of course not,” he said. “Not if I can prevent it, but I do not know what I am looking for or how I will do it.”

“That has never stopped you before,” I said.

Daeron tilted his head to look askance at me. “I do not think insulting me will win me over to aid you,” he said.

I laughed. “You are not insulted. There is no one more suited to gleaning information than you. Finding out what Calith is up to will be child’s play for you.”

He nodded. “True, but my time will be limited.”

“Then do the best you can until I am released from this prison and can join you,” I said.

At that moment, Guilin came through the door. He smiled brightly. “I am so pleased to see you awake, Legolas,” he said. “I hope to hear that you are feeling much better.”

I nodded as Daeron stood and moved the chair away from my bedside so that Guilin could approach. We exchanged knowing glances before I turned my attention to the healer. I smiled to myself; I knew Daeron would not turn down such a challenge.

“I suspected that you would be better when you awakened,” Guilin said. “I think the worst is over.” Pulling the covers down to my waist, he began to run his hands over my body slowly, touching me lightly at times and other times, just skimming slightly above my skin. When he had finished, he pushed me gently to my side to look at my shoulder. “The wound is healing well,” he said.  “But it will be sore for several days more. You will also find that your muscles are weak and you may experience spasms off and on until all the venom has left your body.” He straightened. “I want you to drink all the water you can. That will help flush it from your body and hasten healing.”  He turned to the table next to my bed where an array of his healing things was placed. After finding the small earthen container he wanted, he opened it and dropped a little into my glass and then filled it with water. He handed it to me. “Drink this,” he said. “It will help draw out the venom. You will probably find that it will make you sleepy, but the rest is what you need for now.” I reached up to take the glass and he allowed me, but kept his hand firmly around mine. In only a moment’s time, my hand and arm began to quiver, and I was glad for his added support. In truth, I was far more fatigued than I had realized, and I also found that I was quite irritated by this slow recovery. When I had finished the foul tasting potion, he placed the cup back on the table and smiled. “Before you go to sleep, I will have the kitchen hasten to bring you some broth I have prepared for you. There are a few herbs in it that will also help to strengthen you. Take all of it,” he admonished me.

An unpleasant expression tugged at the corners of my mouth as I had sudden recall of his concoctions that I had had the displeasure of being subjected to in the past. He laughed and patted me gently on the leg. “My cooking is not nearly as bad as you suppose,” he said. “I think you will find my broth pleasant.”

“I will drink it,” I promised.

“Good,” he said as he went toward the door. “A servant will bring it.”

“Guilin,” I said as he made to leave.

He stopped. “Yes?”

“How much longer will I be kept to my chambers?” I asked.

“That will depend, young Legolas, on you,” he smiled. “If you follow my directions then you should be feeling well enough to move about in three or four days.” He held up his hand in warning. “Then you will have to remain relatively peaceful for perhaps a week.”

“A week!” I yelped. “When will I be allowed to return to training?”

“You will find,” he said, “that your strength will take several weeks before you are as you were before.” He made a show of contemplating my fate. “I would say that you will not be back to training for two weeks and possibly a few days longer. Until we see how you are recovering, I cannot say for certain. This spider was particularly virulent. Only time will tell.”

“That is too long,” I muttered.

“You have little choice, I am afraid,” he said. “Until your muscles calm and the weakness subsides, you cannot train safely.”

The door closed quietly and Daeron brought the chair back to the bed and sat down. He snorted softly. “Broth!” he snorted. “I have never known anything made by that Elf’s hand to be pleasant.”

“I hear he is a talented artist,” I offered dejectedly.

Daeron laughed. “Perhaps, but you do not have to eat his art.”

“True enough,” I agreed. “Then you will see what you can find out?” I asked turning once again to our plan.

With a grand roll of his eyes, he nodded.

By the time I had finished the broth, my eyes could no longer focus and my lids drooped.  The only bright spot that I could find at that time was that Guilin had not misled me; the broth’s taste was pleasant enough. The herbs gave it a slightly pungent taste, but over all, it was as I would have expected broth to taste.

As I drifted off to sleep, visions of spiders and my brothers fighting by my side flitted through my head. My arms felt as if they were weighted with iron as I struggled to fight off a large spider that hissed and spat blood at me. The red band gleamed like a polished brace around its slick middle.  The spider suddenly turned into Elenna. She turned to Aldamir. No sound came from me as I tried to call to him to watch out. He lowered his sword and stood perfectly still as she sank long glistening fangs into his neck.

When I awakened, Daeron was gone and Naneth was at my side. Her fragrance filled the room. Before I forced open my eyes, I relished the moment and simply let it be. Breathing deeply, I recalled a warm summer afternoon in the family garden, the air adrift with the perfume of roses and lilies, sweet earth and swaying pines. For an instance, I was a small elfling again, running barefoot over the stone path, chasing fireflies and laughing as Erelas lifted me up onto his shoulders so my reach extended to grab at the flashing little creatures trying to escape my earnest efforts of capture. But the aroma of my mother and the late evening wound together is what I remembered most. This fragrance alone could put me back into a calm slumber, but I was thirsty and ready to come away from Guilin’s potion-induced sleep, at least, for a while. No little effort was required for me to shake myself from the warm, safe presence that my naneth wove about me while I slept. But I stirred, and finding that my body, though sluggishly, was again answering my demands, I opened my eyes to her smiling face.

“Hello, child,” she whispered with a voice as soft as her smile.

All I managed was a small upward tilt of my mouth in greeting.

She placed aside the book she had been reading, and moved over to sit next to me on the bed.  Gently, brushing aside my sleep tousled hair from my face, she asked, “How did you rest?”

“Fine,” I said. “How long have I been asleep?” My ability to discern time remained completely confused. I had no idea if I had slept an hour or a day.

“For some hours,” she told me. “It is late afternoon now.” She smiled. “Are you thirsty?”

I nodded, my face sliding gently against the soft woven linen wrapper on my pillow thinking how often I am often amazed that my mother seems to know exactly what I want or need.

“I can offer you water or cider,” she said as she moved to the bedside table. “Guilin says that he cares not what you drink as long as you drink.”

“Cider,” I answered as I pushed with quivering muscles against the bed trying to raise myself to a sitting position. Pain shot through my shoulder. My vision swam in watery waves for a moment before it settled. Naneth stopped with her hand on the pitcher as she watched me struggle with my covers as if they were mass of heavy draperies. She made a slight move toward me as if coming to my aid, but I freed myself and managed with some effort to bring myself up enough to prop my back against the headboard of my bed.

“Your strength is returning,” she said as she poured cider into a cup and held it out to me. Once she was certain I could hold on to the cup, she released it and sat back down on the bed.

“I feel much better,” I said as I gulped the cool drink. I paused to let the sudden fatigue of moving pass.  “Did the warriors leave this morning?” I asked.

“Yes, they are gone,” she said.

“Daeron told me that they are going to try to push the remaining spiders below the elf-path,” I said.

“That is our hope,” she answered.

I took another sip as I watched her over the rim of the cup. With the cup still poised for me to take another drink, I said, “He also told me about Aldamir and Elenna,” I said. I took another sip while trying to gauge what she might reveal to me. I was certain that she knew more than almost anyone else, but what she would say on the subject was never to be taken for granted. She rarely discussed someone’s private affairs.

“Yes,” she said, calmly. “They are no longer seeing one another.”

“Daeron told me what happened,” I said. “About the other Elf that Elenna is betrothed to.” 

She said nothing for a moment and then said, “There seems to have been some confusion.”

I would say so, I thought. “How is Aldamir?” I asked.

Patting my leg, she said, “Do not worry for your brother. He is fine.” Straightening my covers, she fell silent again and then looked up at me. “Aldamir knows his duty, and he is a skilled warrior; he will be focused on what he has to do.” Again, I was amazed that she knew exactly what I was feeling. The thought of Aldamir going into battle while carrying this worry disconcerted me to no end.

“He must be very hurt,” I said as I took another drink from my cup.

Her brows knitted together, but relaxed quickly. “He has not spoken to me about his feelings,” she said. “But I trust him to take care.”

I sighed. “How did this happen, Naneth?” I asked. “I thought that Elenna cared for Aldamir. But she was to wed someone else all along. I do not understand how she could deceive him so.”

Folding her hands in her lap, a distant look crossed over her face as if she were thinking about how to explain that someone had willfully hurt her son. “Legolas, your brother is an adult. His personal life is his own.” She sighed softly. “I do not know what reasons Elenna had for allowing Aldamir to believe she was free to spend time with him, but it is done now, and they will have to decide the course of action they will take. I think it is best if we do not add to their problems by speculating.”

“I am sorry, Naneth,” I said, feeling chastised for my initial desire to obtain information. I felt bad for Aldamir. “I do not mean to pry,” I said. But the truth was that I had meant to find out what was happening while I was tucked away in my chambers. Certainly, I would do nothing to harm Aldamir. And if Daeron was right, our job would be to prevent someone else from causing him further harm. If Aldamir was unaware that Calith was asking questions about him, then he could not deal with him. I could not tell him since he was gone with the warriors. Telling Naneth was out of the question; she would simply say to allow Aldamir to handle it.

Even though Aldamir has always been somewhat bossy, I did not like seeing him hurt. I remembered when Daeron and I were much younger; we were taken by a group of men who had come uninvited into the realm. Aldamir and Seregon came for us. Adar came too, later, after we had been rescued. But what I recall in those last moments of terror when a man held a knife to my throat was the one fell shot from Aldamir’s bow that brought the man down, and then, in the smallest of seconds, the feeling of being swept into the safety of his arms. I do not think I have ever felt so relieved or felt so safe in my life. I have often thought how I would have reacted to seeing someone hold a knife at Aldamir’s throat. I am not sure I could have stayed my hand enough to release my bolt. But Aldamir was steady and sure in his aim; he saved my life. On that night, Daeron and I saw our brothers as warriors for the first time. My view of them changed forever.

While Naneth had spoken the truth that Aldamir was an adult, he had also always seemed cautious around maidens. He danced in the community dances with elleths, and he had been known to eat or walk with one, but I had never known him to be as enamored as he was with Elenna. I could not imagine what he was thinking now. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me: Aldamir was shy! Not when he was commanding thousands of warriors, but when he was left to converse with a maiden, he became unusually reticent. I was surprised at myself that I had never noticed this before. Elenna was the first maiden with whom I had ever seen him let down his guard. I felt even worse for him when I considered how difficult it must have been for him to chance getting to know her. And I was angry, terribly angry with Elenna and her pretty Elf. They would not cause my brother any more harm.

Naneth was watching me intently, but when my attention shifted back to her, she smiled sadly. “I am sure your brother would be pleased that you are concerned for him, but this is best left for him to sort out.”

I said nothing, but my mind was already working on a plan to be certain that the pretty Elf and his beautiful betrothed would never cause problems again.

Sighing, Naneth stood. “Evening meal is not for several hours. Guilin wants you drink more of his broth while you are awake. Then, he says, you may eat a light meal if you feel strong enough.” She went to the door of my chambers and called a servant. I heard her send to the kitchen for the broth.

When she had settled back into her chair, she folded her hands in her lap and said, “And you will do as the healer says.”

A rush of heat flooded my face. “Yes, Naneth, I will.”

After the broth I dozed again until I was awakened by Adar, running his hand gently over my face. “Wake up, Legolas. Your meal is here. You do not want it to get cold.”

Blinking sleep from my eyes, I saw him sitting on the side of the bed. “Daeron has offered to sit with you while you eat. I have asked your naneth to join me in the dining room. She has been at your side with few respites since you came home. I think it will do her good to dine with the family. We will both be back as soon as the meal is over.”

“I am fine, Adar,” I yawned. “You and Naneth do not need to stay with me.”

Adar smiled. “You are much better, but I do not think I will win more than this minor skirmish with your naneth.” He leaned down and laid a kiss on my head. “In truth, I am not ready to leave you unattended yet either. You are still too weak.” He stood. “But soon. Perhaps in the next day or so.”

Fully awake at this point, I saw Daeron grinning at me from behind Adar. I smiled in return. He did not look distraught. The masters must not have been as angry as we had feared. Adar adjusted my covers and took me by the arm. “Let me help you sit.” Once I was arranged to his satisfaction, he placed the tray on my lap. “Do not attempt to get out of the bed without assistance. Daeron will either help you or call for aid.” Glancing at the tray, he gave his final command, “Eat all that you can and drink everything on your tray. Your naneth and I will be back in a short time.”

After Adar had gone, Daeron sat down in the chair and placed a tray on his lap. I had not noticed until then that he planned to eat his meal with me. I was pleased that I would not be eating alone. 

“Tell me,” I said. “What happened with the masters?”

Daeron shook his head in mock sorrow as he took up his fork and stabbed a honeyed carrot. “I am now the newest equipment buffer in the realm. For two weeks, I am to be responsible for the care and cleaning of all the practice equipment,” he announced. “An auspicious title, it is: The Sword Wiper.”

I laughed. “That is not too bad. What did the masters say to Belas and Alar?”

“Alar did not draw any punishment,” he said as put the carrot in his mouth. “But,” he said as he chewed, “the masters talked to him…privately. He did not say what all they discussed, but he did tell me that he told them that you were defending him, and that I struck Belas because he had hit you in an unfair advantage….while I was holding you in an attempt to separate you and Belas.”

I sighed. “I am sorry, Daeron. This is entirely my fault.”

Swinging his fork, he said, “It was worth it. Even though it hurt considerably when my fist hit the slug’s face, I think it hurt him worse. That alone was worth my new duties.”

“And Belas?” I asked.

“That is the best part,” Daeron grinned. “I am sorry to say that I was not present when the masters talked to him, but the news of his punishment carried like wildfire throughout the novices.”

“What?” I yelped.

“He is to clean the warrior’s stables for a month,” he said, smiling broadly. “And he is to spend two hours daily in your brother’s office instead of training in the afternoon.”

“They sentenced Aldamir!” I said.

“Not according to rumor,” he said. “The tale I heard is that Aldamir issued this decree. Belas’s warrior-calling hangs by the good grace of the commander. You forget that Aldamir was there when all this happened. I suspect he heard everything that Belas said. So, the commander is allowing Belas his personal tutorage. Belas will either shape up or he will be dismissed from the novices.”

My eyes felt wide as saucers. “I cannot believe this,” I said. “I have never known Aldamir to do such a thing. It is not like him to deal with the novices. He is usually very strict about the masters handling novice problems.”

The tray in Daeron’s lap rocked as he sawed through his roast. “But Belas was only a puff of breath from insurrection, and he is only months from taking his pledge to the king. I imagine Aldamir wants to know if Belas is trustworthy. If Belas does not please the commander, then Belas will be a former novice.” He chuckled. “And Belas was the one who wanted to weed out the mice from the ranks. He will get his opportunity to be a mouse.”

“I cannot believe this,” I repeated. “Now that I think about it,” I said, “I am surprised that the masters did not dismiss him for what he said. But I am even more surprised that Aldamir would take the time when he has so little to try and correct Belas.”

Daeron shrugged. “I hate to admit it, but the mouse is good with his weapons. If he can be reigned in, then Aldamir can always send him to the southern patrol. That would straighten him out in a hurry.”

“Belas does not know what special treatment he is getting,” I said. “If he does realize this, then it could take the wrong path; he will think he is so good that the commander would not allow anything to prevent him from becoming a warrior and took him under his wing to nurture his talent.”

Daeron snorted. “That is not likely. When Aldamir finishes with him, he is certain to feel special.”

I sighed heavily. “I hope you are right. Who knows how the truth will twist in Belas’s mind?”

Daeron smiled. “He is nervous as a mouse being targeted by a hawk,” he said. “You should have seen him this afternoon at training. Belas knows he stepped over the line, and he is worried now that he is fairly certain that Aldamir knows what he said. He is dumb, but not so dumb that he does not know that he is not being honored by this assignment.” Daeron scrapped up the last of his potatoes. “I am rather enjoying this.”

“I do not suppose the master said anything about my punishment?” I asked.

Daeron shook his head. “All they said to me about you was to inquire from me what happened.”

My heart sank. “I threw the first punch,” I moaned. “My luck, I will be serving along side Belas in Aldamir’s office.”

“I do not think so,” he said. “Belas is not going to Aldamir’s office because of the fight, but because of what he said. I suspect that you will receive similar punishment as mine. You just got in a fight; you did not call the commander a fool.”

“Not to his face,” I smiled. “And then, just as my brother, not as my future commander.”

“I do not think you will be in any more trouble than I am,” he said. “And I was captain that day. I did hear about my responsibilities on that subject, but the masters were all fair and understanding.  I should not have hit Belas. But I can not exactly say that I am sorry that I did. But now that I have gotten my desire to crush him out of my system, I will not let it happen again.”

I leaned my head back against the headboard and closed my eyes. A deep weariness pulled at me. Physically, I was tired, but the mental pictures I brought to mind were the ones that exhausted me. Still to come, I would have to face the masters, face Aldamir and I would be responsible for telling Adar and Naneth that I had been disciplined by the masters. “Has Adar said anything to you?” I asked.

“No,” Daeron said. “You have kindly kept him occupied.  I hope you are not planning on getting better any time soon.”

My eyes snapped open. “That reminds me. We have plans to make. Have you seen the pretty Elf?”

“No time,” he said. “What do you have in mind?”

“A few things, but mainly, as soon as I can leave this bed, we will follow him and see what he is up to,” I said.

“I do not know how we will have time,” he said. “I will be delayed with the equipment for at least an hour after training everyday.”

“After evening meal,” I said. “The light lingers this time of year and we will still have time to see what he does during the evening.” I lifted my head to see him better. “And we can ask others what they know about him. Casually, of course.”

“How casual will it look when this Elf is the one who caused the break between your brother and a maiden?” he said.

“Just in general conversation,” I said, “we can bring him up. No one will think anything of our inquiries.”

“Possibly,” Daeron said, his head tilted in thought. “We will have to be careful.”

I smiled. “We will be.”

Daeron put aside his tray and then pointed to mine. “You had best eat before you parents return. I will be dismissed from my job as your minder, and we will not have time to plan this.”

Taking up my spoon, I dipped into the new bowl of broth I had been sent. “That Elf is up to something; I know he is,” I said as I tasted the salty, herbal brew. “And we will find out what it is.”

Daeron smiled. “He is not nearly good enough to escape our net.”

Chapter Ten: Seregon

As we traveled toward the western regions of the woods, the leafy shield of the great canopy gave us kind relief from the hot blazing sun. But by afternoon of the first day, even in the cooler shades, the trails were moist with an air that felt heavy on my skin and in my chest as I breathed. The forest smelled dank and musty. I was reminded of the lowest caverns of the stronghold. There the only moisture swells from the earthen floors, giving rise to the odor of dirt and decay.

The horses suffered. Sweat ran down their flanks, streaking their coats as dust and sweat mixed into a dark, silvery mud. Quickly, this journey had begun to feel as if it would never end for both horses and Elves, but we pressed resolutely on toward the northwest forest.

We traveled until nearly sundown before we made camp on the first night. Such a large number of warriors are always a challenge to see fed and rested, but Aldamir had left nothing to chance. Immediately upon stopping, those assigned to cook were at their duty, and those appointed to guard took up their positions without delay. Horses were taken to a nearby stream to water and groom. Elves not called to a specific duty went upstream to wash in the cool waters and to refill water skins.

As soon as I was well satisfied that everything was going as planned, I went to where Aldamir had taken out a map and smoothed it over a rock face. His brow was furrowed as he poured over it, checking and double-checking our bearings. Tree sat a cup of tea on the rock and motioned Aldamir to it.

“Thank you,” Aldamir muttered as he trailed his finger over our route while studying the mapped terrain so intently that it seemed to me as if he thought he could discern any trouble that might await us by sighting its location on the map.

Tree looked to me as he widened his eyes in a silent plea for me to do something about our overly-efficient commander. Tree was right; Aldamir had pushed himself as hard as anyone else in the unusual heat and was in just as much need of rest as the rest of us. But my cousin’s jaw was set, and his eyes were attentive to his duty as he saw it. He was keeping his mind off other unpleasant realities too; this, I knew. 

As we rode out on that morning, I saw Elenna standing with her father and his sister. Calith was at her side. Aldamir did not miss this, I am certain. Calith stared with what I thought was a challenging glare as Aldamir passed. I did not know who this Elf was, but there was an air of arrogance and smug satisfaction about him that I found grating.

“Come,” I said to my cousin, “let us go down to the creek and wash away the day’s sweat and grime.”

Aldamir exhaled slowly and straightened to his full height. For a long moment, he simply gazed out into the woods. From his distant stare, I thought he looked like an Elf who had stopped one thought only to realize that he would have to quickly find another or be lost in the barrenness of an aimless mind. Finally, he nodded. “We can get in a quick swim before the meal is ready.”

Tree fell in behind us as we walked the short distance to the creek. Tabor and Lathien took their positions at the rear. As we dodged low branches and skirted thick undergrowth, I heard Tree attempt to provoke our guards in his usual cheerful manner by asking if they did not trust him with our safety. A tight, “No”, was the reply that came from Tabor. A welcome chuckle filled my chest; we can always depend on Tree to keep life in perspective. However, Aldamir was likewise exhibiting his current view of life; he walked stoically toward his destination with no apparent awareness of the conversation, or that we were following.

At the stream’s edge, I was pleased to find this part of the forest murmured with song and contentment. Spiders did not worry the trees here or disrupt the birds’ joyous tunes. Choking webs and darkness had not touched this place--well, unless you considered the darkness of my commander’s mood.

Taking a few steps toward the stream, I was soothed by the clear water that ran slowly to the southeast over large boulders with brown and tan watermarks. A wide strip of sandy bottom as smooth and white as fresh cream invited me to remove my boots. Few rocks littered this level stretch that led to a clear, gently churning pool. One large gray boulder spouted majestically from the pool’s center. Water stains formed a golden crown, encircling the gray head of a stately, seasoned rock-king seated upon his sun and water-glistened throne. In my mind, I named it the Gray King’s Pool.  What a delightful place for elflings to play…or even, tired warriors.

Tabor and Lathien took up watch in a nearby tree as Aldamir, Tree and I stripped and waded into the waist-deep pool. The water was refreshing and soothing after a long day of travel in oppressive heat. For my own selfish reasons, I was eager to bow to this rock-king. I did so, quietly saluting him with my pleasure. Taking my bar of the grainy soap carried by all warriors, I vigorously scrubbed my arms and chest.

As I worked the braids from my hair, I glanced at Aldamir to see him draw himself up on the rock and began lathering himself from head to toe. He appeared completely consumed by the task, attacking the chore as if he were mounting an assault on a band of orcs. When he had finished scrubbing, he slid from the rock-king’s head and ducked under the water. Tree, barely shifting his position and with lightning fast reflexes, reached out his long arm and snatched Aldamir by the hair to haul him back to the surface.

“What are you doing?” sputtered my cousin.

“I feared you could not touch the bottom, my lord,” Tree said as he bowed with exaggerated fanfare.

Aldamir shoved Tree’s shoulder to push him away. “You are annoying me, captain,” he said, but the faint smile on his face said otherwise.

“Not nearly as annoyed as the king would be if I allowed you to drown,” Tree laughed.

Aldamir caught him around the middle with his full force. Arms and legs churned in the water for a few moments before both emerged laughing and coughing.

I stuck a leg out of the water and scrubbed earnestly. “The two of you are no better than elflings,” I said as superiorly as possible. “Really, I do not know how we will wage this campaign when you cannot conduct yourselves appropriately.”

I had only the barest of seconds to close my mouth and stop breathing before I was shoved to the bottom of the pool, struggling to find my way back to the surface. “I lost my soap!” I complained as soon as I could find a breath.

Aldamir’s bar hit me square in the chest. I caught it in my hand before it became another victim of the pool. “Please. Use mine,” Aldamir said with a laconic smile.

My foot caught on my escaped bar. Cautiously, I slipped under the water to retrieve it from the depths and quickly came back to the surface before anyone attempted to drown me while I was under.

Aldamir had gone back to the rock and stretched out in the warmth of its sun-heated surface. Following Tree, I slogged back to the shore where I ran a soft flannel over my arms and legs and redressed. Settling against another large boulder on the sandy bank, I began to comb the snarls from my hair. Tree joined me with the ease of an old friend.

He rummaged through his pack until he produced a comb. Throwing a quick glance at Aldamir, he said softly, “How is he?”

Gathering the hair on the crown of my head, I began to braid. “He says he is fine, but I do not know.”

“He has not spoken to you about Elenna?” Tree asked.

I shook my head. “There has not been much time to talk beyond what was required for this campaign.” The necessities of the campaign were not the only reason that kept Aldamir from talking to me about Elenna, I was certain. But it was reason enough.

“The more I have thought about this,” he said as he worked the braid at the back of his head, “the more I think it is possible that Calith planned it.”

 “Planned what?”

“Meeting Aldamir as he did,” he said. “I have known Calith since he was a child. I would not call him unkind or cruel, but I would say that he is manipulative.” He tilted his head to look at me with meaning. “Especially where Elenna is concerned.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling a thick knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

“He has always been in love with her; for as long as he has known the difference between ellon and elleth, he has had his sights upon her.” Tree shook his head.  “This betrothal makes no sense to me,” he said. “Calith has never been a suitable partner for her. Her parents accept him as a friend, but they would not approve of him as a husband for their daughter. I cannot believe that they consented.”

“Why?” I asked. Tree has been a part of this forest for longer than the Sinda have been living among the folk here. He knows the people well, and I did not doubt that he knew the general feelings of the villagers about many subjects. Still, I was surprised that he knew so much about Elenna and Calith.

“He is too flighty,” Tree told me with a sour look on his face. “Calith does not hold with anything for long. He began training as a healer, and then decided he wanted to be a warrior. When he found out that he would have to relocate to the main settlement, he backed out. He has begun and left nearly every craft an Elf can embrace. The last I heard, he was working with the foresters, but I am told that they do not wish for him to stay. I have always thought that he thinks so highly of himself that he does not feel that he should be required to anything that he does not wish, especially anything that he considers beneath him.” Tree’s eyes narrowed.

“Then you are telling me that he is arrogant?” I said.

“Yes, but in a sad sort of manner,” he said. “He is charming to a fault, but his politeness often feels false and manipulative. No,” Tree said thoughtfully, “I cannot imagine Elenna’s parents would allow this. Her mother especially has no use for him.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Her mother is a healer, and she is like most healers I know. She has a gift for knowing people. My impression is that she feels him to be immature and selfish. I have heard her say that he thinks only of himself.” He picked up a twig and twirled it in his fingers. “As far as I know, Elenna has no interest in the healing arts, but I know that she is gifted in understanding people too. How she cannot see through Calith is a mystery to me, but I realize that even sighted people can be misled by those for whom they care.”  Tree shifted against the rock. “Calith is a fool, Seregon. And I do not make such judgments lightly. What I cannot understand is why she would take him when she is truly a beautiful maiden with a kind heart. Available males from all over the realm would be more than happy to vie for her hand.  There is no reason for her to settle for him. If anything, she has been too kind to him already.”

 “What I would like to know,” I said angrily, “is why Elenna did not tell Aldamir about Calith? If she found that she had made a mistake in agreeing to bond with the Elf, then why did she not simply tell Aldamir that she had a problem and would rectify it?”

“I do not know,” Tree shrugged. “I would not have expected this from Sordien either. Sordien is a very kind Elf; he is careful of others’ feelings. It is unimaginable to me that he would have allowed this.”

“Possibly, then,” I said, “Sordien remained silent hoping that Elenna would fall in love with Aldamir and break off this betrothal to Calith.”

“Possibly,” he said and then grined again. “Which of the two would you chose if Elenna were your beloved daughter?”

“I am not unbiased,” I smiled back.

“Nor am I,” he said. “But as an observer, I would not think the choice would be difficult.” He stood and cast his gaze out to where Aldamir slid from the rock and after one more quick dip under the water had started for the bank. “Our lord and commander comes, but I think that Calith bears watching.”

I nodded, perfectly aware of the disgruntled look on my face.

 Tree bowed to me. “By your leave, my lord, I will see you back at the campsite,” he said.

“You may go,” I said, as I watched Aldamir advance. “And thank you, Tree. You have given me some explanation even if it is still fraught with puzzles.” He had indeed given me much to think about.

With a quick smile, he faded into the forest as easily as the mist scatters in the wind.

That evening when everyone had settle for the night, Aldamir spread out his bedroll and lay down next to me. He had been unusually silent, but he was still generous with his smiles when talking amicably with the warriors.  The camp grew quiet as the warriors settled to find some rest before resuming our journey in the morning. I was nearly asleep when I felt the quiet stirring of Aldamir rising. I focused my tired eyes to see his back as he strode silently into the forest. Tabor slipped from his blanket and followed; I propped myself up on an elbow.

“He will be fine,” Lathien said softly from a few feet to my left where he had thrown out his blanket to sleep.

Saying nothing, I lay back down. Indeed, I believed that he would be fine too—eventually, but in the intervening time, he was faced with balancing duty and heart.  I had no concern for his ability to lead the troops, but I did know the toll Elenna’s deception had taken on him.  I could see it in his single-minded, over-attention to detail and in the manner of his sad smile. Aldamir looked tired and mentally removed from himself; the commander and the Elf were living two separate existences.

Even if Calith had a right to claim the maiden who had promised to wed him, the manner in which he told Aldamir infuriated me. Elenna bore responsibility too. She could have told him in private and not allowed Calith to ambush Aldamir on the steps to the stronghold. What game were these two playing? Too angry to immediately sleep, I closed my eyes and reviewed what Tree had said earlier. Answers were to be had, and I thought to look for some clue that would shed light on what had happened.

Well before dawn, I awoke to find that Aldamir had not returned to his bedroll. I glanced around the camp, but did not see him or Tabor. Lathien focused his eyes when I sat up; he watched me in silence.

“I am going to walk down to the stream,” I told him. “You do not need to get up yet.”

“Very well,” he said, but after I had taken a few steps, I felt his presence at my back. Lathien is an ornery creature. Ignoring him, I followed the same path we had taken the evening before. The sound of gently flowing water greeted me as I stepped from the trees near the bank.

The moon was full and gliding off toward its last hours of watch. Stars were still twinkling robustly in the clear sky devoid of any hint of dawn. And there, upon the rock I leaned against earlier, sat Aldamir with his arms locked about his knees and his face turned upward.

He lowered his head and turned toward me. “Why are you not sleeping?” he asked quietly.

“I could ask the same of you, cousin,” I said as I slipped onto the rock’s wide head and settled myself next to him.

He turned his face back to the starry sky. “I could not sleep,” he said.

“The night is calm,” I said, glancing upward too. “But the air still feels thick. I hope for rain, but I can also hope that it will not interfere with our mission.”

“The song of the trees has gone soft and quiet with lack of water,” he said. “They spend their energy stretching deeper into the earth for a drink. I suppose if rain is to come, then I will be glad for it.”

Aldamir and I have always been close, but I do not think I have ever felt a more tangible connection with him than I felt at that moment. I could feel his song blending with the forest around us with such natural ease that he was as wholly a part of this forest as any tree. “What comfort do they give you?” I asked, nodding toward the thick, dark forest surrounding us.

His head lowered slowly, but he did not look at me. “The trees give me strength, and the stars accept me as a child of their own. I could ask for no more.”

“If they grant you peace, then you are indeed blessed,” I whispered.

“And you find none here?” he asked.

“I seek you, cousin, not peace,” I said. “But for you, I do want peace of heart and mind.”

“Even if for only a brief moment, I have found it, then it will have to suffice,” he said. “Tomorrow, I will resume my duties, and I will do the best I can.”

“You have led the troops of this realm well. Your warriors respect you. They will willingly do your bidding without question.”

Dropping his gaze to the river, he sat silent and still for a moment. “I only wish to be worthy of their devotion.”

“You doubt yourself?” I asked.

“I have erred in judgment,” he said. “How can the warriors respect a commander who has made such an utter fool of himself?”

“What error have you made?” I asked.

He sighed heavily and leaned back to prop on his hands. “It is nothing,” he said. “With only the crickets’ love songs to keep me company, I have wandered into self-pity.” I knew what weighed on his mind: Elenna and Legolas. Aldamir was harder on himself than he ever thought to be with one of his subordinates. Duty came first in his life, and the one time that he felt he had lowered his guard, it had resulted in disaster for himself and injury for his brother. But I was not going to get into Legolas with him. Now that Legolas was home and in the care of his parents and the healers, I felt he would be fine.

“I spoke with Tree today,” I said. “He feels that Calith’s intent in coming to the stronghold was to claim Elenna.”

“She is his to claim,” he said softly.

“She belongs to herself,” I said quickly. “Tree is quite knowledgeable about the villagers, and he feels that there is something odd about this betrothal.”

“In what way?” he asked with such neutrality that a casual observer would have thought that he had little interest in the matter.

“He says that Elenna has never shown any romantic interest in Calith,” I told him. “He is puzzled as to why she would accept his proposal.”

Aldamir shook his head. “It does not matter,” he said. “She has agreed to bond with him and that is the end of it.”

“Would you see her coerced into a wedding that she does not want?” I asked.

“And if it is what she wants?” he asked. “Tree is from Sordien’s village, and I believe he has relatives still living there,” he said, “but all he has said is mere gossip. I have heard nothing that makes me think she did not accept Calith’s offer willingly.”

Ah, I thought, then that is why Tree knows so much about this village; his family is there. “I would trust Tree’s judgment,” I said. “He is too wily to be swayed by idle gossip.”

“I cannot change what has happened,” he said.

A heavy breath pushed through my lips. “I think you can,” I said. “I admit that I am angry with Elenna for causing you this harm; she should have told you about Calith. I think she was afraid that if she did, then you would break with her. I also think that she intended to return home and sever the betrothal with Calith, but he somehow got word that she was seeing you and intentionally set out to give you the news of their betrothal to thwart any possibility of you interfering.” I turned toward him. “Do you not see that he arranged to spring this news on you in public so that you would be caught so unaware that you would not be willing to hear her?”

“If she wanted to break with Calith, then she could have done so by now and come to me with an explanation,” he said.

I exhaled loudly. “Listen to me, Aldamir.” I said, “She fears you will not hear her now. She knows you are angry.” I shifted slightly forward. “I do not think she cares for Calith. I have seen how she looks at you. She loves you. Why she has not rectified this problem with Calith, I cannot guess. I do not know what sort of hold he has over her. But there is something that prevented her from telling you about him.”

“She will have to come to me,” he said as sternly as if he were issuing a final command. “I will not interfere in her promise to him. If Elenna wishes to break this pledge, then she will have to do so because it is what her heart desires, not because I pressured her.”

“I understand why you feel this way,” I said, “and I cannot say I disagree with you. But I think Calith bears watching. I do not trust him. From what Tree has told me of him, he is not above treachery where Elenna is concerned.”

Aldamir sat up and gathered his knees back to his chest to wrap his arms around them. He stared silently at the dark pool until he finally spoke. “Unless Calith gives me reason to think that he has somehow gained her promise by duplicity, then I can do nothing.” He glanced at me and then returned to stare straight ahead. “I will watch him when we return.”

A smile sprang to my mouth. “Then you will need some rest, cousin,” I said. “Or you will not be able to remain alert enough to watch anything other than your dreams.”

“I have rested,” he said.

“I am pleased to hear that,” I said, “because there are spiders awaiting your bow. We would not want to disappoint them.”

“They will not be disappointed,” he said softly.

On the morning of the fourth day, as the sun began her ascent, we were gathered, ready to be positioned for the sweep. As the night passed into a hazy gray that lightened steadily, a bird lifted its voice in its first song of the day.

I felt a familiar pre-battle calmness as I watched Elves arrange themselves into assigned units. Aldamir walked from company to company speaking to the warriors, his gait smooth and his motions fluid with confidence.

A commander sets the tone of any engagement. Among the troops, heightened awareness and anticipation shone on their faces; their backs were straight and their hands were flexing. But Aldamir’s strong and reassuring leadership lent a calmness that tempered the warriors to focus on the duty at hand while maintaining the constant flow of energy needed to take oneself into harm’s way. Aldamir is a natural leader. Elves follow him, not because he is the son of the ruling monarchs, but because he has a keen grasp on the nature of warriors; they freely offer their loyalty because of his devotion to them. I thought as I watched him walk among his troops, grasping a shoulder here, an arm there, that any one of these warriors would lay down his life for him.

When he came to the youngest group of warriors, the ones who would trail behind us to replenish arms as we traveled swiftly through the forest, I could not help the small smile that came to my lips: the newest warriors were simply awed by his presence. This battle was a first for many of them. Young faces fairly glowed with a new found belief in themselves. No one would have ever known the doubts that haunted Aldamir by observing him interacting with his troops. My only hope was his own words would treat him with the same inspiration as he offered his warriors.

Once all were in position, we awaited enough light to begin our careful march through the trees. To the west, I saw that dark clouds were rolling in. Tall, thick and ominous, thunderheads roiled to overtake the first glimpse of the robin’s-egg-blue sky of morning. The storm would be upon us soon. Wind began to pick up, swaying the leaves gently at first, and then clattering them against one another as their paler undersides turned upward. The first low grumble of thunder came alongside the passed whistle that signaled the charge.

As commander of the left flank, my place was east of Aldamir’s position. Tree was captaining to my left on the outermost edge. As we began to move forward as a unit, I glanced back at the small unit of young armed warriors whose main responsibility was armament replacement. No warriors would be caught without weapons. Our design was to fight by bow, using blades as a last resort. We would pick the spiders off from the trees as quickly as possible and continue moving to the south, driving the fleeing spiders toward the Elf-path where Erelas waited.

No more than a quarter of an hour into the sweep, fat heavy drops began to fall. For the most part, the driving rain would be kept from us by the canopy, but the rain itself could serve to our advantage. The spiders would be less active, seeking shelter in the trees and in their nests. As I traveled forward, I reviewed strategy in my head, letting it settle comfortably into instinct. I knew that once a colony was sighted, we would have to move swiftly and in concert to bring them down before they scattered. Bodies would be left where they fell until the sweep was completed. Then we would return, retracing our path to destroy the spider remains, their nests and webs, and to search for any strays.

Within minutes as the rain began to fall steadily, we sighted the first nests. Twenty fat, globular bodies were huddled around four nests spread out in two trees. We far outnumbered them. I signaled a group of warriors to the right of the nests and to the left, I sent another five. Those of us remaining would watch for any escaping. Ten warriors could easily take the spiders out in seconds.

Thunder boomed overhead, shaking the trees like a vibrating drumhead. In the cloudy, dim woods, lightning slashed in two quick successive strikes. As I gave the low call of a blue jay and arrows flew into the trees finding their marks, I prayed to Elbereth to spare the warriors and the trees from the jagged, killing bolts of nature. Three more spiders skittered out of the nests and were downed in seconds. The trailing warriors moved in to check the downed bodies and retrieve our arrows as we cut our way through thick web to speed ahead in a hard downpour.

To the west, I occasionally heard shouts or the solid twang of bowstrings being released. I knew Aldamir’s unit was meeting with spiders as well. To my east, Tree’s patrol was making quick headway; I caught only a rapid showing of warriors in earnest pursuit as they raced after a group of fleeing spiders. A quick succession of leaves being shaken as spiders fell came in a satisfying swiftness.

By midday, we had routed six small colonies numbering no more than ten to twenty spiders in each. Few, if any, escaped us. Everything had progressed methodically and with surprising speed.

When I reached for another arrow, I found my quiver empty. I dropped back enough to call to the following warriors. “Arms!” I called. Lathien fell back with me and waited for replenishing his own quiver. A young warrior, only a few years older than Daeron, ran toward us, carrying a bundle of arrows in each hand.

Movement overhead caught my eye. The foliage was thick and dark, with only scant light filtering through the hovering fog. As the young warrior passed under the boughs, a spider dropped from a rope of web. “Move!” I shouted the knife from my belt already in my hand. The spider frantically tried to reverse its course as my blade caught its exposed underbelly. It quivered for a moment, hung still and then fell heavily to the forest floor landing upon its back, its legs bending and twisting like twigs caught in a wind.  Lathien’s plunged his sword into the round orb of its middle and the spider stilled.

Pale and shaken, the young warrior stood rigidly, still holding the bundles of arrows clutched tightly in his fists. Taking one of the bundles from him, I dropped the arrows into my quiver. “Thank you,” I said.

He flushed. “No, thank you, my lord,” he said. “I did not see it.”

“Spiders are sneaky creatures,” I smile, fighting the urge to lecture him as I would have Daeron. “You are doing fine. Just keep your eyes open for any that might escape us.”

He nodded as Lathien took the remaining bundle and dropped then into this quiver. Once Lathien was ready, we leapt into the trees to catch up to the quickly moving patrol.

By dusk, we were all wet, dirty and tired. And hungry; we had not eaten since before daybreak. Only a light rain continued to fall with the last hard downpour having been several hours earlier, though it was still enough to make the idea of being dry untenable.

As we arrived at the designated small stream where we were to rejoin with the other units, I saw Aldamir, dripping wet and mud splashed, as he unbuckled his quiver and sword and placed them against a tree. I made my way to him and smiled. “My lord, I trust you met with success?”

He exhaled and shook his head in exhaustion. “We did, but I am surprised at the reduced numbers. We did not find nearly the spiders that Farendi indicated before we began the sweep.” Leaning against the trees, he crossed his arms and stared out in to the forest for a moment. “Did you take any injuries?”

“No, everyone is accounted for,” I said. “But I was also surprised at the low number of spiders we encountered. Do you suppose so many have fled south?”

“That is my thinking,” he said. “As we drove the spiders before us, they must have warned others that they came upon and these joined in fleeing south.” He rubbed his face briskly. “I am concerned that the greater numbers are heading toward Erelas and his patrol. The members of his patrol are some of the best warriors this realm has to offer. They have to be to do the kind of work they do, but not even they will be a match for so many panicked spiders.”

“What would you have us do?” I asked, trying to ease the tight knot that formed in my stomach.

“I have sent a party of scouts to locate those that may be heading toward the elf-path,” he said. “Once I hear from them, then I will decide what to do.”

“They will have to move rapidly to catch up to the spiders,” I said.

“Indeed,” he said. “We may all have to move quickly to intervene.”

He paused for a moment and I could see that his mind was at work, planning for all possible actions we might be required to take. “The scouts have been gone for several hours,” he said. “My hope is that they will find answers to where the majority of the spiders have gone soon and return before daybreak.”

Nothing could be done until we gained word on the spiders’ movement. Waiting is always the hardest part of my job. I prefer to be set in a determined action and moving on this directive. Aldamir looked equally as uneasy as I felt. “What did you find in the northernmost village?” I asked. My unit passed to the east of the first village, but I knew that Aldamir had positioned himself to go through the villages.

“The villagers have heeded our warning and have barricaded themselves in a few centrally located structures.  I sent a group to search all the other buildings for any spiders that might have sought refuge. They found only one spider hiding in the eaves of the stable. I left two warriors to keep watch overnight. If no further spiders are sighted, then they will signal the villagers that they can come out once light has returned,” he said.

The smell of stew boiling wafted on the wind. My stomach rumbled. “In the meantime, I will see that all watches are set,” I smiled. “And I wish to be certain that our cooks for the evening are preparing enough to feed hungry warriors.” I placed my hand over my heart in formal salute. “By your leave, my lord.”

“Go”, he smiled, “and tell the cooks that I am indeed very hungry.” Though he managed a slight smile, I knew his thought were still on the swarm of spiders heading south toward Erelas’s position.

A few hours before dawn, I heard Aldamir call my name as he shook my shoulder. “Seregon! Wake. The scouts have returned,” he said.

Sleep immediately left me as I jumped from my wet blanket. I followed him to where the scouts stood waiting.

“Commander,” Nathron said, saluting Aldamir, “we have found a large massing of spiders due north of the elf-path, approximately four leagues away from Lord Erelas and his patrol’s position.”

“How many?” Aldamir asked.

“Several hundred at least,” Nathron reported. “But I suspect that the number will swell as we advance. We saw others fleeing in that direction.”

“Why do they not cross into the southern woods?” I asked. “For what do they wait?”

Nathron dipped his head to me. “My belief is that the spiders are aware of the location of Lord Erelas’s patrol, and are depending on sheer numbers to overwhelm the warriors.”

“The spiders have a strategy?” I mused. Certainly, the spiders were not without intellect, but I had not given them enough credit if what Nathron was saying was accurate. True, this strategy was quite basic, but I was still slightly shocked that the spiders would amass under some sort of leadership. 

Aldamir had remained silent with his thoughts, but he appeared, I thought, by his look of concentration, to be putting the final touches on what he had planned. Finally, he turned to me. “Rouse the warriors. Choose five from each unit and send them immediately to Erelas’s aid. Have Nathron captain this group; he will know the exact locations of the spiders so that the warriors may pass safely and alert Erelas of what is transpiring. These twenty warriors will be under Erelas’s command when they reach him. I will also send Erelas a message that Nathron will carry.”

I saluted. “As you command,” I said.

“And Seregon,” he called as he began to take out parchment and ink. “We must move swiftly onward through the remaining forest until we wedge the spiders between us. What we can take out of their rear flank will lessen the number advancing on only thirty- two warriors.”

At dawn, thick voluminous clouds hung overhead, obscuring the sky and allowing only a faint gray light to push back the night. Fog lingered like a wet blanket to cover deep into the forest. As I checked my unit to be certain that we were prepared to move, I looked anxiously toward the sky, hoping that the warmth of the rising sun would soon burn away the milky haze that lay over tree and Elf alike. I did not wish for the spiders to hide from us.

We drove south all morning, slaying spiders methodically. The spiders were indeed fleeing south ahead of us. We had only managed to find the ones that sought to remain rooted in their nests or were too slow to catch up to their fellows. We continued traveling with great speed and by mid-afternoon, as we passed to the east of Calendon’s village, we were nearing the amassed spiders.

Grateful for the extended light of a summer’s day, we came upon the first band of spiders while there was still enough light to battle them. But night would fall soon, and the swiftness of our assault was imperative. I whistled the charge. Arrows flew like rain into the scrambling black beasts. They fell quickly.

More spiders awaited us as we moved onward. The trailing warriors found themselves engaged in a ground assault as the spiders swarmed all around us. Their blades hacked and stabbed with no time to retrieve our spent arrows or to offer the advance warriors any replenishment. When my quiver was empty, I jumped to the forest floor with my sword in hand. At every opportunity, I snatched arrows from corpses and crammed them into my quiver. My warriors were doing the same as they brought their blades to bear on the enemy.

Dusk was passing into true night when I heard Aldamir call out the signal that he had reached the elf-path. The last of the spiders in our area were taken down and we met face to face with members of Erelas’s patrol.  Elves were strung out all along both sides of the path as were the numerous curled bodies of dead spiders.

As I dropped to the path, I saw Erelas striding toward me calling out for reports from his patrol. “Well!” echoed over and over. When he saw me, a great grin sprang to his face. “My lord,” he smiled as he saluted me.

After only a quick warrior’s greeting, I rushed him into an embrace. “Have you seen your brother yet?”

Erelas released me. “No, I have only heard his signal. But I will be glad to see him so that I might tell him how relieved I was to find twenty additional warriors coming to my aid.” He smiled wryly. “I was beginning to get worried.”

“These spiders will not worry anyone again,” I smiled. At that moment, I saw Aldamir approaching. He had already sighted Erelas and was coming toward us, looking relieved to see his brother unharmed.

When Aldamir reached us, Erelas turned, saluted and then allowed his older brother to draw him into a fierce embrace. “I am glad to see you,” Aldamir said softly.

“And I, you,” Erelas said.

Aldamir released his brother and placed his hands on Erelas’s shoulders. “How did your unit fare?”

“No injuries that I am aware of,” Erelas said. “I do not think any escaped us in this section of the path, but the swarm was large and if any did, they were few in number.”

Aldamir shook Erelas slightly and let his hands drop. “Good news, then,” he said. “We now have only to dispose of the carcasses.”

Erelas pushed his chin toward the path behind Aldamir. “Warriors already begin to gather the bodies to burn.” True enough, I saw. The spider remains were being tossed into a large pile, along with deadfall in a clearing near the path. I glanced in the other direction and found a similar scene. Another group dragged a tarp with bodies piled upon it from the woods toward the piles being readied to burn.

Aldamir nodded with satisfaction. “We will rest for the night before we begin to retrace our steps and clean the forest of the downed spiders,” he said. “I would have you, Erelas, return home by a northeastern route to look for any that might have escaped to the east. Take the additional twenty warriors with you so that you can cover more area. “

“As you command,” Erelas said. “If it pleases you, then we will begin our journey at first light.”

Aldamir nodded his agreement.

“I would not be surprised,” I said, “to find that the villagers have already begun the disposal of the remains in the forest. They are not likely to leave them if they can rid the woods of their foul presence.”

“That would indeed be welcome,” Aldamir said.

“Tell me, brother,” Erelas said, “how is Legolas?”

Aldamir cringed slightly. “He was well enough when we left. The poison was particularly virulent, I am told, but it followed the course we would expect. On the morning we took our leave, his fever had abated and the healer said he would fine with time.”

“I am relieved to hear that,” Erelas said. “When last I saw him, he was not doing well. I have been worried.”

Aldamir clasped his shoulder again. “By the time you arrive home, I suspect that he will back to his old self.”

Erelas laughed. “If he survives Naneth’s fussing.”

“He will,” Aldamir smiled. “And he will be the wiser for it. One of the queen’s sons does not take an injury without learning that the most trying portion of healing is avoiding upsetting her.”

Erelas laughed again. “I do not know if Legolas knows that yet. This should be an educational experience for him.”

“Naneth is a good teacher,” Aldamir said as his eyes met the captain of his eastern unit standing in wait at a respectful distance. He tilted his head in invitation, and Tree stepped forward and saluted.

“I have come to report, my lord,” Tree said.

“I am ready,” Aldamir said and settled to hear what his troop captain had to tell him. I listened too, finally feeling the weight of the oppressive enemy lift. This peace might not last long, but I resolved to enjoy this victory for we never knew what enemy might only be moments from finding us.

Chapter Eleven: Legolas

Adar placed his cup on the dining table as we finished evening meal. “I am afraid I will be late in joining you this evening in the family room,” he said. “I must meet with Galion for a short while.”

Naneth smiled. “Then I will see Morwen about choosing cloth to re-make draperies in the guest chambers,” she said. She glanced at Aunt Noreth. “Perhaps you would like to accompany me to Morwen’s cottage?”

“Indeed,” Aunt Noreth said. “I would enjoy a nice walk now that the rain has passed.”

And rain, it had, for three solid days. Another two days had been needed to simply dry the paths enough to walk without slogging through mud and wet leaves. Not that I had been allowed out to see the soggy forest, but Daeron had come home each day coated in a thick layer of mud. I envied him.

“Naneth?” I said, hoping that now that I had been allowed out of my chambers for several days, I might have some chance of stepping out the palace doors.

“Yes, love,” she smiled. She knew what I was about to say; I could see anticipation in the way she tilted her head.

“Since I am much better, I would like to go to the garden for a while this evening while everyone is out,” I said.

“Guilin tells me that you are much improved, but you are aware that you are not quite past the worry of cramps and sudden weakness,” she said. I grimaced. Only that morning after morning meal, when I stood to leave, I had been seized by a cramp in my thigh that had nearly taken me to the floor. Fortunately, Daeron caught me, but only a second passed before Adar had lifted me and placed me back in my chair and when I could stand, he made me walk in circles around the dining room until the cramp passed….with him by my side, ready to pounce, if the grace of the Elves left me again. This was a setback in convincing my parents that I was well enough to do more than ramble about the family quarters and read the books that Borgil brought me so that I could keep up with Daeron in our studies. For over a week, I had been bored completely out of my mind. So bored, in fact, I had actually read some of the books.

“I am just going to sit in the garden, Naneth,” I said. “I have not been outside at all since I have been home.”

Naneth’s eyes slid over to Daeron. “Do you plan to accompany Legolas to the garden?”

“I did not know he wished to go out, Aunt Lalaith,” he said, “but I am more than willing if you would like.”

“I do not think it wise for him to go beyond the family quarters alone,” she said. She turned back to me. “You may go, but do not stay past an hour.”

The smile that broke out on my face was one of pure joy. The outside! If my actions would not have drawn a reprimand, I would have run from the family dining room and gone straight out the Great Doors, laughing like a giddy elfling. “If I may be excused then,” I said, “I would like to enjoy the evening before it grows late, and I am once again tossed into bed.”

“And toss you, I will,” Adar laughed, “if you do not return as your naneth has instructed.”

“I will, Adar,” I promised, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Then you and Daeron may go,” he smiled.

As I stepped onto the landing outside the Great Doors, I flung open my arms and took in a great breath.

Daeron chuckled. “You act as if you have been held prisoner.”

“I am indeed an Elf set free,” I said as I descended the steps and took the side path to the family garden.

“For an hour,” Daeron laughed as he followed me.

Before I planted myself on a bench, I walked about the walled garden, touching the trees and breathing deep the sweet fragrance of flowers. Blooms in every shade of the rainbow nodded gently in the warm summer breeze. Daeron settled himself on the front wall so that he could look out over the paths that crisscrossed beyond the privacy of the walls and drew a knee up to his chest. When I had contented myself with touring the garden, I took a seat on a long, backed bench carved of wood.

“How did your weapons wiping go today?” I asked as I stretched out on the bench to gaze up at the dusky sky, watching for the first stars to twinkle to life.

“Fine,” he muttered. Then he smiled. “Belas is still nervous. I think he is counting the days until Aldamir returns and he has to face him.”

“The troops should be returning in less than a week,” I said. “I hope Guilin will release me to go back to training; I do not want to miss this.”  A light breeze was rustling the tops of the trees as I watch a gray titmouse scamper along a branch, stop and look down on me, and then sail into a neighboring tree.  “What have you found out about Calith?” I asked.

Daeron shook his head. “Little,” he sighed. “I have not had time to seek out anyone who might be knowledgeable about him. I have seen only novices and masters and family, but I hope to have a small stretch of free time….” He paused, leaning forward to peer down on the outside paths.

“What?” I asked.

“Sh.hh.h,” he said, waving his hand toward me without looking.

I sat upright. Finally, he motioned me toward me. “There he is,” he whispered. “He and Elenna are walking toward the river.”

Leaping up next to him, I crouched on the stone wall and followed the direction of his gaze. I immediately recognized Elenna, but I think I could have picked out Calith simply based on Daeron’s rather unusual description of him; this Elf was indeed pretty. He was tall as most Elves are wont to be, but there was a delicate shaping about his face that gave him a willowy, almost unsubstantial look as if he might break if too much pressure fell on him. His eyes were large and round and I thought the gaze he had trained on Elenna was alert, yet empathetic. Too solicitous, in fact.  Something in his manner seemed disingenuous to me as he walked by her side, keeping step with her as if she would falter at any moment, and he would be required to save her from some evil tree root whose sole existence was causing her to stumble. I could see why Daeron had taken such an immediate dislike to him; this Elf was walking trouble.

“They are moving away from us,” I said softly.

“Sh.hh.h,” Daeron hissed. “Listen.”

“I am pleased you wanted to go for a walk this evening,” Calith said. “You have stayed within your aunt’s cottage walls too long.”

Elenna dipped her chin to stare at the path, but said nothing.

Calith smiled. “Come, now, my love, you must put this behind you. No one escapes making mistakes in life and no one thinks ill of you for having been misled.”

“I feel like such a fool,” she said softly.

“Far from it,” Calith told her. “You were simply not aware of the games played by some males.” He sighed dramatically and placed his arm loosely about her shoulders. “We have been sheltered, living in one of the outermost villages. We are a simple folk, not given to the intrigues of royals. I, for one, am grateful for not having to deal with over-privileged lords and ladies who have nothing better to do with their time than to play with the affections of others.”

I threw a glance at Daeron. He looked as shocked as I am sure I did as he moved down the wall like a squirrel cautiously observing a fat nut on the forest floor. I followed.

Calith and Elenna rounded a curve in the path and were quickly moving out of our sight. I quickly leapt into the nearest tree and stayed just to their backs. Daeron was on my heels.

“I would not have believed that Lord Aldamir could be so callous,” Elenna said. “He seemed so kind and sincere.” She stopped walking and looked up at Calith. “I have embarrassed you as well.”

A smile of sympathy lifted the corners of his mouth. “No, my dear, I am not embarrassed. You were taken advantage of. This is no fault of yours. Lord Aldamir is the one who should be embarrassed, but I fear that such repentance is beyond someone like him. Whatever he wants has always been his for the taking. He is quite practiced at deception. Maidens are mere folly for his kind.” He tossed his hand out casually. “Do not worry about me; I am merely grateful that I was able to get here before he spurned you publicly and caused you even more humiliation.”

“Nonetheless,” she said, “I am sorry for making such a public display of myself and in turn, causing the public eye to rest on you as well.”

Calith took her hand. “I can withstand anything as long as you are safe from predators like our king and queen’s oldest son.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Once we are home things will be much better.”

Elenna nodded. “We have been friends for as long as I can remember,” she said, “and I am grateful to you for your steadfast loyalty, but under the circumstances, I think we should postpone the betrothal ceremony; I have done great harm to us both.”

“Now, now,” he cooed, “there is no need to feel uncertain about our plans. We have always known that we are destined for one another. You were simply a victim of an elaborate game played by Lord Aldamir; that does not change who we are to one another.”

Elenna stopped walking. “I am so foolish,” she said. “How could I be misled so readily? I am so sorry, Calith. You are much too kind to me after what I have done.”

“Do not be so hard on yourself,” he said. “If I had not spent time among his warriors as they pass through our village, I would not have heard about his prowess with falsely wooing maidens either. You had no way of knowing, and I certainly never thought that he would try to misuse you in any way, or I would have spoken to you sooner.”

“I do not deserve your forgiveness,” she said, “but I am grateful for it nonetheless.”

Calith planted a soft kiss on her hair. “Think no more about this. We are safe together and will speak no more of it.” He took her hand and started walking. “Now, tell me about your day.”

I sat perfectly still as I watched them chat about the mundane chores of the day until they were beyond sight and hearing. “Did you hear what he said about Aldamir?” I asked Daeron.

“I cannot believe he has told her that Aldamir uses maidens and then discards them,” Daeron said shaking his head. “If I had not heard this with my own ears, I do not think I would have believed it.” Daeron sat down on a limb, running a slender braid through his fingers. “I wanted to ask him if we were talking about the same Aldamir,” he said snidely. “He certainly was not talking about the one I know.”

“He was lying!” I said heatedly.

“Obviously,” Daeron said. “He has told Elenna this to make her believe that no one but he can make her happy. The slug.”

I puffed a great breath out and leaned against the trunk of the tree. “Oh, how I wish Aldamir was here. We have to tell him what Calith is saying.” I slid down the trunk to squat next to Daeron. “Even if Aldamir does not wish to pursue Elenna any longer, he should know what vicious lies this Elf is telling about him.”

“Then we will tell him and what he does will be up to him,” Daeron said.

Dusk was leaving quickly to allow night, and I was somewhere I was not supposed to be. “Come,” I said as I grasped a limb to hurry back to the garden before I was missed.

“Oh, no,” Daeron muttered as he grabbed my arm. Upon the path below stood a very angry queen and a shocked-looking aunt, though Daeron probably saw it the other way around.

“Legolas!” my mother said. “Come down here at once.”

My heart leapt into my throat as I pondered whether escape was an option. Since I had been sighted, it was not, and since I could think of nothing to save myself, I simply did as she bade. Moving cautiously through the branches, I went to the lowest one before I dropped carefully onto the path. I saw Naneth relax slightly once I was on the ground.

“I can explain, Naneth,” I started, but she silenced me with a wave of her hand.

“Go to your chambers,” she said, her voice tight with anger and something else that I could not quite identify. “I will come to you directly.”

I hesitated; I wanted to tell her that I had a good reason, but I could not tell her what that reason was. She would tell me I should not interfere in Aldamir’s private affairs.

“Now, Legolas!” she said sharply.

“Yes, Naneth,” I said and turned to go with Daeron following immediately. Aunt Noreth had said nothing, but I was certain that she had passed the appropriate looks of disapproval to Daeron.

As we approached the Green, Daeron shook his head. “Well, that certainly worked out well.”

“What are you complaining about?” I snapped. “You were not confined to the garden. I am the only one in trouble.”

“Do not delude yourself,” he said. “I will be held accountable simply because I was there. I did not tie you to a tree in the garden and call for the guards; therefore, I am guilty too.”

“You will not be sentenced to doing nothing and I will,” I complained.

“I expect not, but I will endure the wrath of the angry naneth,” he said. When had walked across the bridge, he slapped me on the shoulder. “Look at the bright side, we have important information. Are you going to tell your naneth what we found out?”

I snorted. “Of course not. I can hear that conversation now: Why yes, Naneth, not only was I disobeying, but I was eavesdropping as well. I do not think she will find that the ends justify the means.”

“So what then will you tell her?” he asked. “We need to have the same story you realize. My naneth is going to ask me what we were doing.”

My head was beginning to hurt. I rubbed at my eyes. “I do not know what to tell her,” I moaned. “Why were we out of the garden?”

“Well, the truth seems out of the question at this point,” Daeron said, “though that is usually the best course with naneths. They have some innate ability to know when their offspring lie.” He paused then said, “I suggest we tell the truth, only not all of it.”

“That we were following the pretty Elf and Elenna?” I yelped. “Naneth will like that no better than eavesdropping.”

“No,” he said as if I were daft, “we will tell them that we were sitting on the wall when they walked by and you, having never seen Calith, just wandered casually out to get a look at him and that was all. We were on our way back when we met our naneths.”

“Were we not out a bit far for us to have just stepped out for the view?” I asked sarcastically.

“We will have to hope that they do not notice that part,” he said.

“And if they do?”

“Then we plead innocent to realizing that we were so far away from the garden--so lovely was the evening and the trees’ song and the warm breeze. We will claim wood-elf defense; we could not help ourselves,” he smiled.

“You are not taking this seriously,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously.

He flung his hand upon his chest. “Of course, I am. We really have no defense as far as our naneths will be concerned, so we will just have to make do.” He smiled. “And keep to the same story.”

“I am dead,” I muttered as we passed the guards at the Great Doors.

When I entered my chambers, I found I was anxious in the quiet of stone walls and softly carpeted floors. I was alone, and I was not certain that I was prepared to face my mother’s wrath on my own. I first sat in a chair in front of the hearth and when I could not sit still, I went to my bathing chamber and washed my face. Pulling my sleep clothes from the wardrobe, I flung them on the bed. I decided I might as well dress for bed since I was confident that I would not be leaving my chambers in this Age.

After I had changed, I sat down on the bed and looked around the room. Everything was in order, books, maps, weapons and furniture, all sitting exactly where it should be. Instead of finding comfort in familiarity, I suddenly realized that I was feeling slightly queasy. The wait was unbearable. Snatching from the bedside table one of the books Borgil had brought me, I opened it and tried to read, but the words made no sense as I fidgeted, glancing at the door every few seconds.

I did not have to wait long before the door to my chambers swung open and Naneth marched in like a commander ready to dress down an errant warrior. She closed the door none too gently and stood staring at me as if she were unsure by what manner she would end my existence.

“Explain yourself,” she demanded.

The prearranged story was simple enough, and I found that the words flowed easily after I reminded myself that I was telling her the truth—partial as it was. Most of all, I wished to appear innocent of willful wrongdoing and as repentant as possible.

When I had completed my tale and begged for her forgiveness, she simply stood next to my bed with her arms crossed and her eyes flashing. Finally, she said, “Do you have no forethought? Did it not occur to you that you could be seized by spasms while in the trees? Do you not realize that you could have been seriously injured if you had fallen?” Before I could answer, she flung her hand out. “Do not tell me that Daeron would have prevented this. Or that the trees would not let you fall. Some things are not within the power of others to stop.”

My mind raced back to another time when Daeron and I had fallen from a tree, so I do not think I would have used that rationalization; it had not served me well in the past. Instead I said, “I am sorry, Naneth. I was enjoying the evening too much when I took to the trees to see this Elf that Elenna is betrothed to, and I did not think.”

“Legolas,” she said, “Elenna and her friend are none of your concern.”

“But, Naneth, I only wanted to see what he looks like.”

“How do you think your brother would feel if he knew you were spying on Elenna?” she asked.

“I was not spying!”

Her frown deepened. “That is certainly not how it appears. And you put yourself at risk in doing so.”

“I felt safe,” I said. “I know what I did was foolish, and I am not making excuses, but I did not think anything would happen.”

“No one ever does, child,” she said. “The things that happen to end a life or cause great harm happen in the blink of an eye, and they cannot be changed once it is done.”

“I understand,” I said.

“I am not certain that you do,” she said. “You have not only the worries of caring how your actions affect your family, but also your responsibility to this realm. You cannot simply dismiss the fact that how you behave reflects on the crown. If you are viewed by the subjects of this realm as irresponsible in your personal life, then it will influence how they see you as the son of the king. You destroy your credibility. You destroy the trust that you must have to fulfill your duties.” Her body was straight and taut as she took a step forward. “One day, you will be in a position of leadership; you do not have the luxury of being careless. If you expect troops to follow you then you must gain their respect and trust. Think, Legolas! Think before you do something that will cause harm to you or to someone else.”

“I am sorry,” I said. “I made a mistake.”

“Yes, indeed, you made a mistake,” she said, “but it was not an honest miscalculation, it was an error of willful negligence. This type of mistake is avoidable.”

I looked down at the coverlet on my bed and picked at a fold. She was right, as much as I hated to admit it. I had done something unwise, but what made it even worse was that I could not tell her why I took the risk. I was aware that the possible outcomes never entered my mind when I went after Caltih and Elenna, but I think had I been fully aware that a spasm might catch me at the wrong time, I would still have gone to hear the rest of the conversation. The information we gained outweighed the risk. Truly, I could not have said that I would not have done it again, even if I knew that Naneth would catch me, and I would later be sitting on my bed being scolded. “I am sorry,” I muttered again, feeling quite disingenuous, but saying it nonetheless and feeling terribly guilty that I was not as remorseful as I should be.

She remained silent, her face set hard and her chest rising and falling noticeably. Anger rolled off her until I felt myself leaning away from her. My determination wavered for a moment, and I considered telling her the truth, but I could not risk her forbidding me to reveal to Aldamir what I had heard.

“Then you may stay here in your chambers until I tell you otherwise,” she said.

“Yes, Naneth,” I whispered, feeling terrible that I got caught and feeling even worse for lying to her, but I could see no other course of action at that time. “Will you tell Adar?” I asked softly.

“Of course, I will,” she said. “He will not be pleased, Legolas. His responsibilities are great, as is his love for you. Knowing that you have disregarded respect for your position and for his love for you, will not sit well with him, I can assure you.”

“I did not mean for it to be that way,” I said.

“Then perhaps you will think more carefully in the future before you throw off good judgment and simply do as you please,” she said.

“I will,” I muttered.

“If you need anything call a guard to summon me,” she said as she went to the door. She stopped. “And Legolas, think carefully about this.”

When she had gone, I lay back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to remember the last time I had felt so wholly terrible.

Naneth had been gone only minutes when a knock sounded on my door. “Come,” I said dully.

Daeron ducked into the room and closed the door behind him. “How long is your sentence?” he asked.

“Until we sail,” I muttered, exhausted from the confrontation with my mother.

Daeron laughed lightly and sat down on the edge of the bed. “She will grow weary of having to see you fed in your chambers,” he said. “Did you tell her what we heard?”

I shook my head. “How could I? She would have been angrier—if that is possible.”

“Maybe she would have been so concerned about the lies Calith is spreading about Aldamir that she would have forgotten about confining you to your chambers.”

I snorted. “You do not believe that, do you?”

“Not really,” he sighed. “Naneths seem to be able to juggle three or four crises at a time and still not forget to tell you to change your undergarments.”

“And your naneth?” I asked.

“I got the responsibility lectures complete with the admonishment that since I am older, I should be wiser.” He shrugged. “She was not overly angry. According to her, you frightened her and your naneth so much that she is still recovering.”

I tossed the book aside and jumped from the bed. Being confined and treated like an elfling was wearing my patience thin. My entire family worried far too much.

Taking a step to go nowhere of interest since there were few places I could wander while confined, I was suddenly seized by a cramp in my chest and across my back that drove the breath from me. The harder I tried to take in air, the tighter the spasm clamped down on my chest. I pressed my hands into my chest trying to lessen the spasm, but succeeded in only making my muscles grip me as hard as an iron band twisted on a barrel.

“Legolas?” Daeron said as he came up off the bed.

Nothing would come when I tried to speak. I could not force air into my cramped chest as pain and fear overtook me. For a moment, I wavered, tilting from side to side as bright lights began to flash before my eyes and my mind grew foggy and panicked that I would not gain my breath. Unable to think clearly, I simply tried to stay on my feet.

Daeron bolted for the door. I turned to go to the bed as I struggled through excruciating pain and lack of air. Vaguely aware of the door slamming into the wall, I heard Daeron shout to the guard at the end of the hall. “Summon the queen immediately. Something is wrong!” Everything went black.

When I woke, Daeron was lifting me to the bed. The pain was still there, but I was able to force small gasps of air into my chest. “Hold on,” he whispered. “You were only out for a moment.” He settled me gently against the pillows. “Breathe, Legolas, just breathe.”

Naneth and Adar came running through the door. Naneth nearly flung Daeron to the side when she reached the bed. Adar called to the guard hovering at the door. “Summon the healer. Hurry!”

“Relax, Legolas,” Naneth said soothingly. “Do not worry; this is only a severe spasm. You can breathe.” The cramp was finally loosening its hold on me so that I could willfully draw air into my aching chest.

I could not take my eyes from her face. “Naneth,” I croaked as tears swam over my vision.

Adar knelt by the bed. He placed his hand on my chest, and I felt the warmth of his touch melt through my night tunic to my skin. “Your naneth is right; you must take calm deep breaths. The healer will be here in a moment. You are safe.”

With gentle hands, Naneth brushed the tears that had sprung to my eyes from my cheeks. She touched my forehead and smoothed my hair from my face, all the while speaking quietly to me in reassurance. The words were lost to me as I fought the panic that had seized me along with the spasm; the sound of her voice steadying me was like a light beckoning to me in a deep fog.

“What has happened?” Guilin demanded as he came to sharp halt behind my parents.

Adar stood as he told the healer of the spasm that drove my breath from me.

Naneth rose and stepped back. “He is frightened, but he is breathing,” she said.

Guilin began quickly loosening the fasteners on my tunic. “Did he lose consciousness?”

“Yes,” Daeron said from where he stood at the foot of my bed.

“For how long?”

“Only a few seconds,” Daeron said.

“Less than a minute?” Guilin asked as he ran his hands over my chest and neck.

“Yes,” Daeron replied.

“Legolas,” Guilin said, “can you tell me what happened?”

The pain was diminishing, but I felt oddly out of focus with my surroundings. My heart pounded loudly in my ears and my mouth felt dry and thick. “Spasm in my chest and back. I am better,” I muttered weakly.

“Your muscles are loosening,” he said kindly. “Relax and take deep breaths. This will pass.” He turned to my parents. “I will give him something to help the spasms and to aid him in resting tonight. This has probably been brought on by a bit of overexertion on his part today. As you know, after a spider bite the muscles remain easily stimulated for a while and sometimes even the most mundane of movement can send them into spasms.” He looked back to me. “You may get up tomorrow as you have been doing, just be a little quieter for another day and then we will begin again to increase your activity.” He patted my leg. “You will be fine.”

From his bag, he withdrew a little earthen jar and poured a small amount of liquid into the glass on my bedside table and then filled the glass with water. “Here, Legolas, drink this. It will help you relax, but it will also make you quite drowsy. Be careful if you get out of bed.”

“He will not be alone,” Adar said.

Guilin nodded. By this time, I was certain that he knew that Naneth and Adar would be rooted to the chair next to their children’s bed if anything was wrong.  Knowing that there was no point in arguing with them that I would be fine by myself, I sighed, feeling air moving in and out of my chest and decided that it was enough that I was grateful for this simple function. I had caused this. Guilt and fear filled me when I thought of what could have happened if I had been caught by such a spasm while in the trees.

After drinking the bitter potion, I settled back onto my pillows and watched silently as Naneth and Adar thanked Guilin. He smiled reassuringly at me and took his leave.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Daeron asked when he came quietly to my bedside. I smiled at him, sorry that I had caused him to look as worried as he did, but greatly relieved that he had been with me when this happened. More than likely, I would have survived the attack, but the thought of being alone when I could not call for help made my chest tighten again.

“No, thank you,” I said. “I am fine now. Thank you for your help.”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “I am just glad I was here.”

“I am too,” I said.

He grinned with a slightly nervous tilt to his mouth. “Then I will take my leave also so that you may rest.” With a roll of his eyes, he chuckled. “I think I will go and try to calm myself enough to sleep tonight. Some of us have to get up and go to training tomorrow.”

“Good night,” I said.

“I will see you in the morning,” Daeron said as he turned to my parents. “By your leave, my lord and lady, I will retire to my chambers.”

Naneth hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Daeron,” she whispered.

When she released him, Adar hugged him and placed a quick kiss on his head. “Good night, child,” he smiled.

Adar arranged the chairs that had been placed back in front of the fireplace next to the bed as Naneth busied herself straightening my room and snuffing lanterns. The last I recalled before I fell asleep was Naneth adjusting my covers and kissing me lightly on the forehead. “Go to sleep, my baby,” she whispered.

“I am a big baby,” I slurred.

Adar laughed, and I drifted off into a deep sleep.

Very early in the morning, I woke to find both my parents still by my side. But sometime during the night, Naneth had moved over into the large chair with Adar. Half in his lap and half in the chair, she slept soundly with her head on his shoulder. His cheek was laid against the top of her head, but when I stirred he focused his eyes and simply watched me. I was still groggy, but I managed a feeble smile, feeling warmed by their presence and by the obvious closeness of my parents. I did indeed feel safe. Adar returned my smile, but said nothing. Within seconds, I had fallen back into sleep and did not wake again until morning.

Naneth had gone when I awoke for a second time, but Adar still sat in the chair next to the bed with his eyes closed and his hands linked across his midsection. For a short time I simply watched him. He was not sleeping, I was sure, but he looked peaceful and relaxed as if contemplating the ease of simply being. A strong surge of love filled me. This Elf was not just the king, but he was a very good father who gave of himself to his sons when lesser Elves would not have been capable of bearing the responsibilities of realm and family. I felt important to him, and I was comforted by this thought. I wanted him to be proud of me just as he was of Aldamir and Erelas. My father is an accomplished warrior; there are none better than he and with all my heart, I wanted to be like him, not only as a warrior, but as an adult. Someday I hoped to have the same composure as he does to meet my responsibilities with strength and kindness. I could not yet imagine marrying and having children of my own, but I supposed that that day would come and I could think of no one else whom I knew who managed to carry all the roles and responsibilities that he did with such grace and love. Suddenly, I was very ashamed of myself for lying to my mother. He would not have done so.

“Good morning,” Adar said softly as he slowly opened his eyes.

“Good morning, Adar,” I responded sleepily.

“I do not know what Guilin gave you last night to help you rest,” he smiled, “but it must have been quite powerful. You may need a moment to wake fully.”

“I am a little groggy,” I said, but it was not Guilin’s potion that weighed heavily on me.  At that point I still did not know what I wanted to do about the lies I had told my mother, but I knew I would have to decide if I would tell my parents and take the risk of being told to not reveal to Aldamir what I had heard or bear the burden of guilt for my deceit.

“You must have overdone your activity yesterday,” Adar said. “Today will be quieter.” He was not suggesting that I would have less to attend; he was telling me that I would do as I had been instructed.

“I will rest today,” I said.

“Taking to the trees was quite risky,” he told me. “I hope that you will consider that we do not make rules for you without cause, iôn-nín. The healers are experienced with injury and Guilin knows of what he speaks.”

“I did not think,” I said.

Adar watched me with kind but knowing eyes. “What would take you so that you forgot the ordeal that you have recently suffered?”

“I was glad to be outside,” I said, carefully.

“That is understandable,” he agreed. “I do not think any of our kind can resist the call of the forest for long.”

When he said nothing more, I suddenly felt anxious with the need the say something myself. “I wanted to see this Elf who is betrothed to Elenna,” I said.

“I see,” Adar said. After a short pause, he said, “And what did you learn of this Elf?”

My face flushed hot as I shifted under my covers to bring them further up to fit their coolness onto my cheeks. “He is tall and dark-haired,” I muttered.

A slight crease formed on Adar’s forehead. “Does he worry you?”

Pressing the cover further into my neck, I nodded. “He has harmed my brother.”

“Do you think this was intentional?” Adar asked mildly.

Resigned to fate, I flung the covers away. “Yes, I do,” I said as I sat up. “Adar, I am sorry that I eavesdropped, I know it is wrong, but he and Elenna were talking about Aldamir and I had to hear what they were saying. That is why I followed them.” Before he had a chance to respond I went on. “I was afraid to tell Naneth because she would tell me to stay out of Aldamir’s personal affairs, but I do not see how I can. Aldamir must know what Calith has been saying about him.”

“What did Calith say?” Adar asked.

Words tumbled out of my mouth as I recounted the conversation I had overheard. Anger swelled again in my chest. I saw a quick glint of anger flash in Adar’s eyes, but his anger was placed securely behind his placid expression as quickly as it came. But I could see that his knuckles were white as he gripped his hands tightly together at his waist.

“If I understand what you are saying, then Calith has lied to Elenna about Aldamir’s intentions?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, sliding around to put my feet on the floor. “He has accused Aldamir of not being honorable. That is not true, Adar. Aldamir would never treat anyone with such disrespect, especially not a maiden. And she is the daughter of a village leader. Calith wants Elenna for himself and he has convinced her that no one other than he can make her happy.”

“Did she appear happy?” Adar asked.

“No, not at all,” I said quickly. “She was sad and even tried to delay her betrothal ceremony to Calith, but he would not hear of it.” I slid forward until my knees were touching his. “I have to tell Aldamir. If Calith is telling such vicious lies about him, then Aldamir deserves the right to defend himself. And who else has Calith been relaying these false tales to?”

“Certainly, no one here at the stronghold,” Adar said. “The people know your brother and know none of Calith’s accusations are true. I suspect that this is something that he has concocted to sway Elenna.”

“And it is working,” I pointed out. “Calith has damaged Elenna’s feelings about Aldamir.”

Adar relaxed back into the chair and gazed thoughtfully over my shoulder as if gathering his thoughts. My heart pounded; I feared that he was going to tell me that I could not tell Aldamir. I silently pleaded that he would not withhold this information from Aldamir. Slowly, his gaze came back to me. “This is indeed unsettling information, Legolas. I assume that Daeron also heard what Calith said?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Legolas,” he said softly, “I do not want you to say anything about this to anyone just yet.” My heart sunk. “Allow me to make some inquiries first. Once I have an idea about who this Elf is, then I can judge better how to deal with this.” His eyes narrowed and his lips stretched thin. “Your naneth is right that you should not interfere in Aldamir’s personal affairs…”

“But Adar!” I cried.

He held up his hand to silence me. “But this is not only information that Elenna and Aldamir have been deceived; if Calith is spreading such lies, then his actions are damaging to the crown. I will not tolerate such.” He leaned forward. “Allow me to handle this, Legolas. I do not want you involved.”

“Will you tell Aldamir?” I asked worried that I had only gained the same stay that I had expected from Naneth.

“I will do what I think is best when I gather what information I need to decide. For now, I want you to remain silent.” He sighed and stood. I came to my feet as he did. “In the meantime, I will help you wash and dress and we will go to morning meal. Then,” he said as he placed his arm about my shoulder and began to walk me toward my bathing chambers, “you will have a quiet day.”

“What will you do, Adar?” I asked.

He laughed. “First, I will eat morning meal; I am quite hungry. Then,” he said as he guided me into my bathing chambers, “I think I will be king.”

                                                      Chapter Twelve: Aldamir

A warm bath was all I wanted. Inhaling deeply the fragrance of cedar and berries, I slid into the tub and let the water close over me like a welcome cloak. Immediately, I felt myself loosen; every muscle in my body sighed with relief.

When the troops arrived back at the stronghold mid-afternoon, I was satisfied by the overall campaign. Not one Elf had taken injury, and I was pleased to say that the spiders had taken a grievous blow to uproot them from their web-infested hold on the western woods. The trees themselves seemed to stand taller and sing of joy. Warriors and villagers alike rejoiced and on this night, the main stronghold village would celebrate our victory in a feast before the visiting delegations took their leave on the following morning.

As happy as I was to see the western woods safe for the two villages that were accosted by the spiders, I could not help but worry this reprieve was only temporary. The shadow did not give up easily, and I feared it would only be a matter of time until spiders and orcs alike pressed once again against our defenses. Had it not been for the malevolent red-banded spiders turning on their kin, then I do not think we would have been so successful.

However, as one foe had been vanquished, another would have to be faced come that evening. There was nothing I wanted to do less than to place an insincere smile on my face and attend this feast.  Perhaps Seregon had been right, and Calith bore watching, but I doubted there would be much I would find out in one evening. And to what avail? Elenna had made her choice.

A soft knock came on my bathing chamber door and the door creaked open. Seregon smiled down at me. “I have retuned your fillet knife,” he said. “I will miss it, but there is always next year.” He came into the chamber and seated himself on a stool near the tub.

“Thank you,” I said, watching him with something of an incredulous look on my face, I am sure. “Is there anything further? I seem to be indisposed at this moment.”

“I have seen you bathe before. Carry on,” he said, swatting his hand through the air to dismiss my concerns.

Apparently there was more on his mind and knowing him as well as I do, I knew he would not leave until he had said what he had to say. I ducked under the water and resurfaced and began to scrub my head and hair with soft soap. “Then what is it that brings you here?” I asked. “Besides the fillet knife. The real reason you are perched on a stool while I bathe?”

“I suppose I am looking for some reassurance that this feast will not be too much of a trial for you,” he said sympathetically.

Sliding back under the water to rinse the soap from my hair, I took the moment to think about how to respond. My required presence was not something I could change and indeed, I had led the troops and it was only fitting that I attend. Combine that with the fact that I am the son of the king and queen, and I truly had little choice in the matter. Still, I did not want to spend an evening trying to not look at Elenna and her betrothed. I was far too tired to be cordial, and I would have to conduct myself appropriately no matter how I felt.

I ran my hands through my hair and squeezed the water from it as best I could while the ends still dangled in the bath. “I wish I could tell you that this duty will be nothing, but I will manage,” I said with resignation.

“Have you thought about talking to her?” Seregon asked. Obviously he still held the opinion that there was something wrong in the relationship of Elenna and Calith, and I could see the hope in his eyes that I would uncover it and take action. I know Seregon wished for me to be content in my personal life, but I also wondered how much revenge played into his desire to see Calith set into his place. I admit this was an enticing idea, but as far as I could see, any decisions about their relationship would have to be made by them. I could do nothing.

I shook my head as I lathered my chest. “I do not think talking to her will aid either of us. I would not cause her embarrassment or hurt her intentionally.”

“And what of the hurt she has caused you?” he asked.

“I am fine,” I said, knowing that I fooled him no more than I fooled myself. “Still to retaliate against her would not improve the situation or make me feel any better.”

Seregon propped his elbows on his knees while keeping a steady gaze fixed on me. “I am not suggesting that you retaliate, Aldamir, I am suggesting that you give her a chance to explain herself.”

I shook my head. “I do not think it wise to engage in such conversation at a public event. Perhaps if she has something to say to me, she will do so, but I will not seek her out.”

He sat back up and slumped with defeat. “Do not let her go without at least trying to find out what happened that she would willingly deceive you. Her doing so seems completely at odds with how she was with you before Calith came.”

“I do not know if that is true or not,” I said. “I was merely mistaken about she felt.”

He shook his head vigorously. “You were not mistaken,” he said. “Look at it this way, whatever you find out will at least answer your questions about why she kept this betrothal from you. You will be more at ease in putting this behind if she truly wishes to be with Calith. But if she does not...”

“I see no evidence that she wants to be with me,” I told him.

“Perhaps,” he said, “but you will not know until you make some move to find out.”

Before anything further could be said, another knock sounded on my bathing chamber door. “Come,” I called.

Erelas burst through the door wearing a big grin; he had already bathed and dressed in a light tunic and leggings.  “You are still in the bath?” he said. “There is a feast waiting to honor you!”

I smiled, feeling genuinely happy to see my younger brother home and looking so fit. For years I had been leaving him to do his job in some of the most dangerous regions of the forest, but I never ceased to feel relief when he returned home safe and sound. “Welcome home, brother,” I laughed. “I will greet you properly when I am not wet.”

“I have little to report,” he said still smiling, “and I do not think I have ever reported to my commander while he is bathing, but I shall make an exception in this instance so that said commander can complete his bath, and we can join in the celebration that is about to commence.”

“And that report would be?” I asked.

“We saw no more spiders as we traveled back by the northeastern route. At Bear Rock we found heavy webbing and nests, but no spiders. The song of the trees was light and content; I felt no weight of shadow upon them,” he said.

“Everyone in your patrol is well then?” I asked.

“And happy to be home,” he said.

At that moment, I heard more stirring behind Erelas in my chambers. Legolas and Daeron appeared in the doorway.

“You are still bathing?” Legolas yelped. “What are you doing?”

“Entertaining,” I said dryly, “Do come on in and join.”

“Certainly,” Daeron intoned as he entered and took a seat next to Seregon on the low bench against the wall. “Will there be wine served?”

I groaned. “What brings you two to disrupt my bath…other than it seems to be a family tradition?”

“Naneth said that we do not have to wear formal robes tonight,” Legolas told me with a look of absolute pleasure on his face. “I came to tell you.”

“Important news indeed,” I laughed.

“And I also bear a message from our king and queen,” Erelas said. “Adar said to tell you to come to his and Naneth’s sitting room before we gather with the family to go to the feast.” He threw his arm around Legolas’s shoulders and snatched him quickly to his side. Legolas feigned a look of irritation, but it was obvious that he was pleased to have our brother home. “You are summoned also, little brother,” Erelas said. “Daeron, too.” His brows shot up. “What sort of trouble have you all been in that you warrant a private audience with the king and queen?”

Legolas and Daeron exchanged knowing looks. “I am afraid I am in the dark on this one,” I said. “But I am certain I will find out soon enough.” I stood in the tub. “Everyone out!” I commanded with a watery wave of my hand. “This gathering of the kindred is over; I have to get dressed.”

I found Legolas and Daeron loitering about the corridor when I approached Naneth and Adar’s chambers. I thought they were suspiciously alert and nervous in how they were pacing back and forth. If I had not been concerned that something was truly amiss, then I would have been amused by seeing them, at their age, behaving with the same jumpy anticipation I had seen from them many times before when they were younger and had been summoned to Adar and Naneth for some wild misadventure.

“We are waiting for you,” Legolas said.

I observed him for some clue about this meeting and then said, “Is there anything you wish to tell me before I meet with the king and queen?”

Legolas shook his head with wide-eyed innocence. “No,” he said simply. Daeron was unusually silent and that generally was evidence of something being afoot.

“Very well,” I said as I knocked on the door.

“Come!” Adar called.

I entered with the two young ones on my heels. Naneth and Adar were seated in the chairs before the fireplace. Three more chairs had been moved to form an intimate circle. We made our bow and I said, “You wish to see us, Adar?”

“Yes,” he said as he motioned to the chairs. “Please sit down.”

I took a seat between Legolas and Daeron for no better reason than splitting them up seemed prudent.

Naneth glanced at Adar and he said, “Aldamir, you know that your naneth and I have tried to respect your personal life since you have become an adult. And we have not been remiss in doing so; you have proven yourself to be steadfast in your duty and in your private affairs.” My heart beat sped up as I got the first hint of where this conversation was headed. My spine stiffened; I did not want to delve into this matter. I wanted to leave the topic of Elenna. Everywhere I turned, she seemed to come up. I could not imagine what would prompt my parents to enter into the fray. Now that we all knew what Sordien and Elenna were hiding, there was little left to discuss.

Adar straightened his tunic as he paused only long enough to watch my reaction. I am transparent to my mother, and I have always suspected that my father is nearly as astute as she, though through different means of discernment.  “Information has come to me that we feel you should know,” he said. “What you make of this information is up to you. I am concerned because it cast a shadow upon the throne. Many of the villagers rarely come to the stronghold or are in our presence. We see most of them only one or twice a year. I do not take their good will for granted.”

“I understand that, Adar,” I said cautiously. I did not know what he had heard, but my mind raced to a night when I had taken more intimate liberties with a maiden than I ever had before. I could only hope that we had not been observed. The thought embarrassed me deeply as the feelings of betrayal and self recrimination floated swiftly forward again. I found comfort in the fact that Legolas and Daeron were present. My parents would not discuss such intimacies in their presence.

Adar nodded. “Several nights ago, Calith and Elenna were overheard in conversation. Some interesting insights were gathered,” he said. As he went on to tell me what had been overheard, I felt my face suddenly heat. My fists clinched and my heart pounded in my head with a steady beat that I wanted only to turn upon this lying Elf who had turned Elenna against me. Waves of fresh anger coursed through me until I did not think I would be able to remain seated. Only the look upon my mother’s face kept me from reacting with a violence that sprang from such a dark place within me that I did not seem to recognize myself, the person I had thought myself to be. I was not calm or rational at that moment. But Naneth was upset. I sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm my fury, but found that I was nearly strangled by its might. Still I held tight to what self-control I could muster to remain seated and not charge immediately out in search of Calith.

Suddenly Legolas’s attendance to this meeting became clear. “It was you who heard this?” I said, my anger boiling over into my words.

He nodded, white-faced and looking unsure if my anger was also directed at him.

“You are certain of what you heard?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Daeron heard the conversation too.”

No longer able to stay my need to move, I jumped from the chair and paced across to a table in the center of the room before I swung sharply back to them. I could find no words to express what I was feeling, but I do not think speaking was necessary; I was enraged, and I was certain no one was wondering what my feelings were about this news.

“I cannot allow such lies to be spread among the villagers,” Adar said, calmly, as an influence to me, I am sure. “I would not have them think that any member of this family would abuse the trust they have placed in us. For me to rule effectively, I must always consider how we are perceived by my subjects. They may not always agree with me, but they must feel confident that I and my family take our position seriously and with all due respect.”

“What have you done about this?” I demanded.

“I have gathered reports as to what sort of Elf Calith is and how he is perceived by others. I had to know if he is found credible among his fellow villagers,” Adar said. “I had to know what sort of damage he may be able to cause by his talk.”

“And what did you find out?” I asked, steadying myself as my blood pumped as furiously as if I were preparing for battle. Which, indeed, I was. With my teeth gritted and every muscle in my body on alert, I vowed that Calith would regret the day he was born.

“The reports I have received,” Adar said, “do not speak highly of him. He is well known among his people as being pompous and ill suited for much more than pursuing Elenna.”

“And she has been receptive?” I asked.

“A friend is all I have been told,” Adar said.

“Then why is she betrothed to him?” I snapped.

“I cannot answer that,” Adar said. “I do not know. Indeed, no one seems to know how this betrothal came about.”

I threw my hands up into the air. “We certainly know how he has managed to preserve it,” I said. “Have you taken any action to quell his lies?” I asked, hoping that I would be granted that privilege.

“No,” Adar said. “I wished to speak to you first.”

Before Adar could go on, I said, “Then I request your permission to handle this myself.”

Adar sighed and looked down for a moment. When his gaze came back to me, he said. “I would ask that you allow yourself some time to think this through before you react.”

“The villagers are leaving in the morning, are they not?” I said. “I do not have much time to sort this out.”

Naneth rose and came to me. She placed her hands on my face and drew me to give her my attention. “Listen to me, child,” she said. “Time is not your problem. But you must tread carefully or you may create a situation that is no better than the one you find yourself in now.”

“How can it get much worse?” I asked.

She smiled softly. “Things can always get worse,” she said. “We are only asking that you think before you act. I know you are angry, and you have right to be, but do not let anger take away your ability to deal with this fruitfully.” She released me and stepped back. “Do not forget that you will be judged by how you deal with this. If Calith can cast aspersions upon you and the throne, you can seal them by responding inappropriately.”

My head ached. I dug my finger into my temple. “I do not know what to do,” I said then smiled grimly. “I know what I want to do, but like you say, this would not serve me or the crown well.”

“No,” she said. “Unchecked anger would not be prudent. Reflect upon what you truly wish to see done about Calith’s lies, and then choose a course of action.”

“Then I have your leave to deal with this myself?” I asked.

Adar came to where Naneth and I were standing. “At this point, I grant you permission to deal with this. I cannot say that I will not at some point speak to Calith about how his lies cast an unsavory light upon the throne and about my displeasure with his actions,” he said. “But I would not have my action appear as if I am angry only because you are my son. That fact is important and I do not deny it, but I feel justified only in dealing with him about how his lies affect the crown. I do not wish to interfere in the personal aspects of this where you are concerned.”

“It is a fine line,” I said.

“Indeed, it is,” Adar said. “But I can see this line, and I trust that others will as well.”

“Is there any indication that he has been repeating these lies to others?” I asked.

“I have no proof of that,” Adar said. “But it is something I wish to avoid if possible. If,” he said, “I speak to him, I would prefer that it remain private. I do not want to bring attention to him.”

I turned to Legolas and Daeron. “Did you get any indication that Calith has spoken of this to anyone other than Elenna?” I asked.

“He did not mention speaking to anyone else,” Legolas said. Daeron shook his head.

“Then I can only hope that I can deal with this without causing more talk,” I said. I turned back to my parents. “I will take care of this,” I said with resolve.

Adar gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. “The time grows late. Let us go to the feast and enjoy the fine food and drink that has been prepared. We still have much to be grateful for. The people of this realm will not forget that you have led our troops well.” But, I reminded myself, people do quickly forget what good you have done if there is something more interesting to draw their focus.

On the landing of the steps before the Great Doors, I stood at Adar’s side as he welcomed everyone and asked for blessings upon us and our land. My mind was far from his words as I scanned the crowd looking for my prey. I found him quickly enough, standing with Elenna and Sordien near the back of the gathered Elves. I felt calm enough and in control as I let my gaze settle on him. The anger had not dissipated, but I owned it by that point. Naneth was right; I had to deal with this carefully. Not only could I not risk gossip, but I could not risk alienating Elenna.

My gaze drifted to her. The breeze caught the loose strands of her hair that framed her face and tossed them gently. I tried to read her expression, but found that I could not. She appeared placid enough, but she did not fully look up to where my family stood gathered. Her hands were clasped in front of her and as I looked closer, I could that her knuckles were white and as her fingers clinched tightly together. This pleased me; she was not happy.

I followed the king and queen down to the Green where tables had been decorated with vines and summer flowers, and set with trays and dishes of food. I took my place to Adar’s left and sat after he and Naneth were seated. Erelas settled down next to me as the other members of my family strung out down the table according to protocol. Servants began to scurry to deliver plates piled high with golden roasted fowl and creamy vegetables. Laughter drifted up to us as Elves began to serve themselves from long tables laden with food and then part into groups of family and friends to enjoy their meal.

For a while I simply ate, watching the crowd and keeping my eagle-eye on Calith. He glanced up to me once or twice, but looked away quickly. He would have to have been a complete fool to not see the fire simmering behind my purposely benign expression. I still did not know how I would approach this problem, but I thought it wise to simply observe until I found my course.

Erelas poured more wine into his cup and took a sip. “You are awfully quiet, Commander,” he said. “You look as if you are scouting the enemy.”

My head snapped around to him as I wondered what he knew about the debacle of my personal life. “I am merely watching,” I said.

“Anyone in particular?” he asked.

“Why do you ask?” I said.

He put his cup down and took up his knife. “The look on your face,” he said. “You forget that I have had many years to learn your moods. I would say this one is dark.”

Realizing that he was correct and that I was straight backed and tense, I willed myself to relax. “I am fine,” I said softly.

“What troubles you, brother?” he asked kindly.

“Nothing I cannot handle,” I replied, taking up my own cup of wine and taking a long drink. “But I do not want to dwell on the problems of the day,” I said. “I would rather know if you are going to ask the lovely maiden, Lalwen, to dance?” I forced a smile and then relaxed the grin to something I hoped was less feral.

“Lalwen?” he mused, then a slow grin crept across his face. “What a pleasant idea. I wish I had thought of that.”

“You do not fool me, little brother,” I said, ripping a chunk of bread from the platter in front of me. “I have also had years to study your moods and fits.” I casually lathed honey onto my bread. “I would say that you have thought of nothing else for days.”

He smiled as a faint blush crept up around his neck and settled on his cheeks. “She has crossed my mind,” he said.

I motioned out across the Green to where Lalwen was seated with a group of maidens. A young warrior I knew from the home guard stopped and spoke. “Then if I were you,” I said slowly, “I would not waste my time worrying about your dull older brother when you need to move quickly to capture the lovely maiden’s attention.”

Erelas watched in silence and I felt him stiffen slightly at the sight of Lalwen laughing at whatever the young warrior had said. “You are right,” he said. “I do not have time to worry about you, or I will be dancing with Naneth all night.”

“That will be my pleasure, iôn-nín,” Adar said from my right. “You will have to find your own elleth.”

Erelas laughed. “See, I will not even have my own naneth’s attention,” he said. “I will have to move swiftly if I am not to be a knot on a log for the entire evening.”

I smiled and felt a little of the tension leave me. I would not be thwarted from what I wanted either.

At the end of the meal, Adar motioned to the minstrels to begin to play. Elves scurried to remove the outermost tables to provide room for dancing. Children ran barefoot to the dance circle and claimed their spots to watch and join in the dance as they would. A circle began to form in wait for the king and queen to open the night of singing and dancing.

Adar stood and extended his hand to Naneth. The rest of the table came to our feet with him. “My lady,” he said, “I would be honored if you would grant me this dance.”

I heard Legolas laugh and felt the jostle of Erelas’s shoulder as Legolas’s elbow flew into his side. “You can try that line to see if you can get an elleth to dance with you.”

“I will wait and see if it works for you,” Erelas chuckled as we waited for Adar to lead Naneth to the circle.

As courtesy dictated, everyone waited for a few minutes and watched my parents dance and then as if a dam had given way, people began to join them in pairs. “I am off,” Erelas said. “I have a claim to declare.”

Legolas and Daeron flew off to join their friends, and Seregon took his mother’s hand and led her to the circle. Alone, I wandered among the crowd, speaking to warriors and their families and other Elves I knew.

A hand gripped my shoulder tightly from behind and I whirled to find Tabor holding his young daughter, a mop-headed little tyke of no more than ten years. I could not repress the smile that sprang to my lips at seeing her flushed and happy face. “I see you have captured a young maiden’s heart,” I said to my guard.

Tabor grinned infectiously. “Indeed, the loveliest elfling in all of the Great Woods,” he said as she snuggled in closer to her father.

“You are fortunate indeed,” I said.

“My lord,” he smiled. “I have come on a mission. This fair lady wishes to claim this dance with you, but she feared she is too short to gain your attention. I kindly offered my services.”

A burst of laughter escaped me. I bowed to Amariel and said, “I would be honored, lovely one, to dance with you.”  Shyly, she reached out her arms to me, and I gathered her to my chest as tiny legs wound about my waist. “Come then,” I said with great fanfare. “Let us join this most glorious dance.” I looked back over my shoulder to Tabor. “Do not worry Ada, I will have her back before too late.”

Tabor laughed and left to take this opportunity to dance with his wife.

Amariel giggled delightfully as I whirled her around the circle. Her little arms clung to my neck and ever so often, she would be so overcome with a fit of giggles that she would nuzzle into my neck and then, fling her head backwards to let the wind tousle her hair. My heart lightened considerably at her innocent enthusiasm.

I came upon Adar and Naneth. Naneth laughed. “Who is this young beauty who has captured my son?” she asked, though I knew Naneth recognized the child of my guard.

I slowed and turned Amariel around to the queen. Her small body bobbed in a make-do curtsy in my arms. “I am Amariel, Queen My Lady,” she said, the first words I had heard her speak in my presence that night. And I laughed outright at my naneth’s new title.

Adar smiled. “You have indeed won the heart of a fair maiden, iôn-nín,” he said. “But if I may be so bold, I would wish to dance with this beautiful one.”

I raised my eyebrows in question and said, “Would you like to dance with the king, Amariel?” Curls bobbed up and down. As I handed her over, I told Adar, “I have promised her Ada that I would not keep her long. I fear I will have to reclaim her soon.”

“She is safe with me,” Adar smiled. “I trust you will see to Queen My Lady.”

I bowed to Naneth. “I would be honored.”

Naneth said little while we danced, but I felt her warmth and love spread through me. And indeed, her calm strength soothed the places where I had burned hot with anger earlier. I smiled down at her and began to feel confident that I would find peace one way or another.

When the dance ended, I reclaimed Amariel from Adar. Naneth brushed a stray curl from Amariel’s forehead and tucked it unsuccessfully into the braid at the back of her head. “She is adorable,” Naneth said smiling. “I have always wanted an elleth,” she said, wistfully.

Adar took her hand and guided her back toward the new dance. “Do not get any ideas, Lalaith,” he said. “We would only end up with another boisterous ellon.”

“You do not know that,” I heard her say as Adar swept her into his arms and joined in the dance.

I returned Amariel to Tabor and his wife, and as I handed her over, I felt more reluctance than I would ever thought possible. She was a safe partner for me. While dancing with her, I did not feel pressured to ask anyone else to dance, and I had truly enjoyed her charming blushes and giggles. “Thank you Mistress Amariel,” I said with a bow. “I appreciate the dance.”

Amariel laughed happily while twirling her adar’s braid about her hand.

“She is a delightful child,” I told Tabor. “You have much to be proud of.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Tabor said as he planted a loud kiss on Amariel’s cheek. She put her chubby hand on her cheek and laughed, laying her head on her adar’s shoulder. “She has been the most wonderful blessing of my life,” Tabor said. “I do not know why I waited so long before begetting this one.”

I knew: The life of warrior is uncertain and full of risk. When Tabor and his wife finally did beget this child, he remained at the main village for the year of his wife’s confinement and for the following two years after Amariel’s birth. Seregon and I had to plan our need for a guard so that we were not away from the stronghold at the same time. Lathien was required to guard us both. As I often did with new adars, I posted Tabor to the least dangerous local duty I could find. He was pleased to be home everyday, but he was not pleased at all with the duty. As soon as Amariel was old enough, he requested his post as my guard to be reinstated and for his routine posting in the home guard while I was not in need of his services to rotate through the home guard territory as before.

I smiled at my guard and his daughter. “She was well worth the wait,” I said envying his contentment and joy.

Across the Green I sighted Elenna and Calith. I excused myself from Tabor and Amariel and went to the fringes of the circle and leaned against a tree. Elenna and Calith were not dancing, and I realized I had not seen them join in the dance at all that evening. As I watched them, suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I needed not to deal with Calith at all unless he forced my hand. I cared nothing for what he said or felt about me, but I cared greatly about what Elenna thought. All I wanted was to win her over. The problem of Calith would take care of itself if I succeeded.

Never taking my eyes from her, I walked around the throng watching the dance, making my way steadily to where she and Calith stood with her family.

Sordien was on his feet before anyone else noted my arrival. He bowed deeply, but with an unsteady nervousness, I thought. “Good evening, my lord,” he said. The others in his family party turned with varying degrees of swiftness and greeted me. Elenna made a graceful curtsy, but kept her eyes trained on the ground. Calith simply looked shocked, I thought. His confidence was wavering.

I gave a terse nod to Sordien and then turned to Elenna. “Would you walk with me for a moment?” I asked.

Before she could reply, Calith found his bluster. “I do not think that would be appropriate,” he said.

Ignoring him, I fixed my gaze on only her. “Please,” I said.

Calith took a step forward. “It would not be suitable for her, a betrothed maiden, to walk alone with you,” he said.

“Please,” I repeated softly, holding out my hand.

Slowly, she placed her hand in mine. I clasped it lightly for fear I would crush her now that I had her within my grasp. I turned to lead her toward the path to the river where we had gone weeks before; the same path we had taken when I knew without doubt that I loved her.

Calith grabbed my shoulder from behind. I turned slowly, my body suddenly alert with a feral instinct that was only seconds away from escaping my control.

He snatched his hand away quickly. “I must object,” he said, but I thought his voice had lost its earlier sureness.

“I did not ask your permission,” I said steadily. “This is Elenna’s decision, and she has made it. You will respect her and her decisions.

“Please do not do this,” Elenna whispered. People near us had begun to turn to watch. “I will be fine, Calith. Please.”

Though Calith said nothing further, the look on his face was one of complete outrage. Underneath his anger, however, I saw thin cracks of worry visible upon his brow. From this, I took great pleasure.

Neither Elenna nor I said anything as we walked the well-worn path toward the falls. When we reached the rock at the step-falls, I pulled her gently to the top and took her to the exact place where we had spent, in my mind, an important evening together. I motioned in request for her to sit and when she did, I sank down beside her.

At that point I realized I had erred in not planning carefully what I wanted to say to her. Disjointed words and feelings rushed through my mind, but I could find none to say exactly what I wished to tell her. For lack of a more refined opening into this conversation, I simply decided to tell her what I had learned.

“Recently,” I said, “news has come to me; this information disturbs me greatly.” I took a deep breath. “I am told that Calith has been speaking of me and making accusations that I have willfully trifled with the affections of maidens.” She said nothing, keeping her gaze pointed downward at her folded hands in her lap. “These tales are not true, Elenna,” I said. “I have never done such things.”

When she still did not speak, I pressed my hand to my forehead and ran it over the top of my head. If she would not respond to what I had to say, then I could only hope to encourage her to talk to me by asking her questions. And I did indeed want answers. “Why did you not tell me you are betrothed?” I asked as mildly as possible.

Finally, she shifted as if suddenly awakening and said, “You must understand, my lord,” she said, “I did not expect to have to explain this to anyone. By the time I realized that …” she stopped abruptly.

“Realized what, Elenna?” I asked.

“…that I…that you wished to see me, I thought it too late to explain this to you.”

“Would that not have been the most appropriate time to tell me that you were not free to see me?” I said.

“Calith…Calith and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. He asked me to bond with him on the night before we left to come to the stronghold for my adar to meet with the king. I did not exactly say that I would, but I did not say that I would not either,” she said.

“Then how did he come by the impression that you consented?” I asked.

“I suppose he came to understand that I accepted by silent consent. I did not say no,” she said.

“Do you wish to bond with him?” I asked.

“I do not know what I want at this point,” she said. “When he asked, I had begun to believe that there was little more to love and bonding than two people who can abide with one another simply deciding that this was the sensible thing to do. My yearning for something more had suddenly seemed like childish dreams. I despaired that I would never find what I was looking for.”

“So you settled for him?” I said.

She looked up at me. “I did not feel I was settling, but I felt that this was simply the way things were to be. Calith is a good person. I thought I would learn to care for him in the way I desired. I already loved him as a friend. And what better basis is there for a marriage?”

“How do I come into this?” I asked.

“I thought I had been wrong about everything; I had made an error. I met you and everything I never thought I would feel was blossoming. Then Calith came.  My intention was to tell him that I could not bond with him, but he told me about you, and I felt so foolish.”

“He has lied to you, Elenna,” I said. “I have done none of things he has accused me of doing.”

“Calith would not lie to me,” she said heatedly.

“So you think that I would?” I said.

“No,” she said and then quickly added, “I do not know. Calith has always been faithful to me as a friend, and I know so little about you.”

“So little?” I said, shocked. “You have more knowledge of me that nearly anyone else. Did you not believe me sincere?”

“I did,” she said, “but once Calith explained to me about your previous dealings with maidens, then I realized what a fool I have been.”

“Elenna,” I said with growing exasperation, “you are not a fool. Calith is the one who has made a fool of himself by lying to you about me. Can you not see that he did this to interfere in our relationship?”

“If Calith has told me an untruth, then it is not because he willingly lied,” she said, her cheeks growing flushed. “He is only repeating what he has been told.”

“And who told him such things about me?” I asked. “I have never laid eyes on him until the day I saw him when he told me of your betrothal.”

“People talk, my lord,” she said. “Calith is in the position to speak with those who come to our village, people who do know you.”

“Warriors?” I asked. I knew this was the claimed source of information he had used from what Adar had told me about the conversation that Legolas and Daeron overheard.

“Yes,” she said. “The warriors of the western patrol come through our village frequently. Calith has gotten to know many of them quite well. Males talk about things that I would not be privy to. They told him of your reputation.”

I sighed angrily. “I have no such reputation!” I said, my frustration becoming more difficult to hide. “And there has been no talk from my warriors because there is nothing for them to report. They have a job to do, and this duty does not include speculation about my personal life. The warriors of this realm are too well trained for such idle and untrue gossip.”

Her head snapped up. “You cannot be certain that none of them would say such things.”

“I can and I am,” I said. “My warriors have not made up these stories. The source of these tales is Calith. He made them up to sway you.”

“Calith would not lie to me,” she repeated. “He would never cause me harm.”

Realizing that I was not making any headway in convincing her about Calith’s deceitfulness, I asked, “Have you asked no one else? Someone who knows me? Someone who lives here? What about your aunt? She is aware of what goes on in the main village. Did you not ask her if this is true?”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “I was too ashamed.”

“Then perhaps you should,” I said angrily. “You are willing enough to take the word of an Elf who does not know me over mine. At least ask someone who knows me. Do I not deserve the benefit of doubt?”

“I have never had any reason to doubt Calith either,” she said, matching my anger with her own.

“But you have reason to doubt me?” I asked incredulously.

She jumped to her feet. “By your own admission you do not know Calith. Yet, you casually accuse him of lying.”

I came quickly to my feet. “There is nothing casual about what I am telling you about Calith,” I said. “And what of the accusations he has made about me? He has caused me harm on several fronts, and in the process, he has managed to insult the crown as well.”

Elenna flushed deeply.

“My parents are not pleased with lies being spread among the people they care for, not only because they are untruths about their son, but these lies reflect on the crown as well. Calith has created an intolerable situation for which he will have to answer,” I snapped.

“The king would confront Calith?” she asked, a look of horror openly displayed on her face.

“I do not know what the king plans to do, but I will tell you this, I will confront him,” I said. “I will not stand down while this lying Elf attempts to destroy my standing with the people of my parents’ realm.” I flung my hand out. “While he thinks only to destroy a relationship between two people, he has gone too far. I have no idea who else he has told these tales to. I cannot ignore what he has done.”

Her fists balled at her sides, she took a step toward me. “You will not harm Calith,” she said, her eyes flashing and her lips set into a thin line of anger. “He did not intentionally cause anyone harm. He was concerned for me. Calith told me because he did not want to see me hurt when you spurned me publicly.”

“So instead, he ambushed me in public to tell me that you are betrothed,” I answered back. “I would say that I am the one who was spurned in full public view.”

“He thought you deserved it for playing with my affections,” she said.

“But I did not deserve it,” I said.

“He was protecting me,” she said, her voice rising.

“From nothing!” I shouted. “The last thing I intended for you was harm.”

“He had no way of knowing that!” she said.

“Of course, he did,” I said. “He knew he was lying. His intent was to destroy us, and he did not care who he hurt in the process.” I threw my hands up. “He has hurt you. He has hurt me. And he is smugly standing back watching us dance around one another while he is the instrument of this discordant song.”

She snatched up her skirt and started for the edge of the rock. “I can see that there is no reasoning with you. You have set your mind against Calith and nothing will make you see that he might have been wrong in his information, but he erred honestly,” she whirled back toward me, “and for the right reasons; he did not want to see me humiliated.”

“And you cannot see that he did not care how you felt. He only cared for what he wanted,” I said.

“You are wrong!” she said as she looked over the drop to the path as if trying to discern her descent.

I grabbed her arm to steady her before she plunged headfirst to the ground in her anger. “I am not wrong,” I snapped. “I know the kind of Elf this Calith is, and I will tell you that he knew exactly what he was doing—what he is doing. He has successfully maneuvered you and me and into an argument over him!”

“You know nothing of Calith,” she hissed, straining against my hold. “You are blinded by your own embarrassment and refuse to even allow that he might have been duped.”

“I am blind to nothing,” I seethed, then said, “Except perhaps you! I have let you cloud my vision.”

With a look of surprise, she stopped and stood completely still for a moment. “Release me,” she demanded finally. “I can take myself back to the feast.”

I did as she bade and then jumped to the ground and held my arms up. “Then I will see you back to your adar,” I said, then added, “and in one piece.” Reluctantly, she allowed me to help her down.

She took off down the path at a heated pace with me following behind. I stared angrily at her dark hair swaying with her pace and at the taut set of her shoulders. Disgusted with how what I had hoped would be a reconciliation had turned out, I muttered, “I do not think I have ever known a more strong-headed maiden in my life.”

She spun around to face me; her face was tight with an anger that radiated from her like heat from a fire. “And I do not think I have ever known anyone who is more determined to see malevolent motives when there are none in my life,” she spat out.

“I did not scheme this situation,” I said. “At least I have tried to set things straight.”

“At an innocent person’s expense!” she snapped.

“If Calith is innocent,” I said, “then I am an orc in Elvish clothing.”

“You freely admit that; I did not say it,” she said seething.

I threw my hands up in defeat. “Have it your way, mistress,” I nearly shouted. “You will one day find that this friend of yours is not your friend at all, but may in fact be your worst enemy.”

“I will not discuss this any further with you,” she said as she turned her back to me and started back down the path.

After a short ways, she stopped and wheeled around back to me. “How is it that I am so strong-headed when you will not give an inch?”

“I cannot where Calith is concerned,” I said angrily. “He is a viper, and you will not even pretend to entertain the idea that he has lied to you.”

“You,” she sputtered as her face and neck turned a quick and deep shade of red, “you are insufferable.” She stomped down the path for only two steps and then turned back to me. “My lord!” she shouted as if my title were some bitter bite that she had to rid herself of as quickly as possible.

I stopped dead and looked at her in disbelief. “I am insufferable?” I said. “I am not taking a cause against you!”

“Nor is Calith,” she said. “He is loyal to me, which is more than I can say for you.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “I have tasted your loyalty as well,” I said.

“I will not discuss this any further,” she said and again, started back toward the Green.

“You have already said that,” I sarcastically.

As we emerged from the forest, I saw Calith pacing back and forth between Sordien and his sister. When he saw us, he stopped, watching us closely. Everything he needed to know was written on Elenna’s and my face. Sordien rose slowly and bowed.

A minutely devious smile winged upward on Calith’s lips. The same look of triumph I had seen on the day we departed to rout the spiders had reappeared. I had to call upon every scrap of self-control I had to prevent myself from snapping his neck like a scrawny, brittle stick.  Calith reached out possessively to take Elenna’s arm. Before he could make good his reach, I snatched her back against me, pressing her back into my chest. My eyes never left his and hopefully, were inviting him to give me a reason to take him apart limb by limb.

Through gritted teeth, I said, “If I ever hear the slightest indication that you have caused her to shed one tear on your account, I will hunt you down and exact a toll that will make you regret ever having drawn breath. And make no mistake, I will find out.”

The cocky look on his face faded instantly, and he took a wary step back. Never breaking my eye contact with him, I released Elenna and stepped back. To my satisfaction, I noted that she did not go to him, but remained standing where I had left her. My only hope was that I had at least planted a seed of doubt in her mind, and she would not bond with him. I knew that I might never have her affection again, but I was certain I did not want him to have it. I nodded once to Sordien, turned and walked back into the forest.

The crickets sang loudly, adding their own voices to the sound of music and laughter that carried through the trees like a playful breeze. I went only far enough to feel alone and there, I sat down at the base of old, sturdy oak. Pulling my knees to my chest, I dropped my head into my arms and sat still, listening to the sounds of Elves celebrating, and the somnolent voice of the forest playing her night songs. All the pain I had felt and more, came back to reside with me like a faithful companion that would not leave even when unwanted.

Someone approached silently; I knew of this presence only by the shift in the trees’ song. I glanced up to see Naneth standing beside me. I made to rise, but she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and shook her head. Her gown fanned out around her as she lowered herself to the ground next to me. Gently, she pulled my head toward her and laid a kiss upon my forehead. I turned only enough to allow her to gather me into her arms. Burying my face into her neck, and for the first time in more years that I could recall, I simply let my mother hold me.

Naneth gently rubbed slow, soothing circles on my back as I listened to the beat of my own heart blend with hers. At that moment, I allowed myself to be completely open to her, allowing her to absorb what of the pain I could push away from myself. I had no strength of my own to shelter her or myself from the searing hurt that nearly took my heart.

But I could not stay in her safe embrace forever. “She did not believe me,” I finally whispered. “How could she not?” I asked. “How can she not see?”

Naneth laid a light kiss on my head. “She is young iôn-nín,” Naneth said softly. “But she is also gifted. You must remember that even the gifted must learn to use the talents they have been given. She does not trust herself.”

I carefully pushed away from my mother and sat at her side, staring down at my hands as if the answers lay within my grasp, but my hands were too idle to offer any hope. “She does not trust me,” I said softly, feeling this final blow to my heart swell. “Elenna has placed her trust in someone who does not deserve it. She cannot see that Calith is lying.”

“Does she believe that you did not trifle with her affections?” Naneth asked.

“She said she did,” I said, glancing upward to see my mother, and then looking back down in embarrassment and hurt. “But she could not believe that Calith would lie to her, either.”

“You must remember,” Naneth said softly as she stroked the top of my head in the manner she often practiced when I was a child and my hair had come undone, “Elenna has known Calith all her life. He has had many years to work his web of deceit about her. To admit that one has erred in their judgment can be difficult. I think she knows that Calith has deceived her, but her pride will not allow her to admit it to herself yet.” She took my chin and lifted my face to her. “Give her time, child. Elenna is not a fool. She is simply stunned and confused by all that has happened.”

“Would my feelings for her not sway her?” I asked. “If she is gifted, then why does she not know that I am sincere?”

Naneth smiled kindly. “She is indeed swayed by your sincere feelings for her. Her feelings for you are strong, but she wars now with having her entire world turned askew. All she believed has been taken from her. In time, she will see that what has been snatched from her has been replaced with something far better. She is frightened, iôn-nín; her heart is vulnerable to you.”

“She is vulnerable to Calith’s lies,” I spat out angrily.

“For now,” Naneth said. “But I do not believe that she will remain so. Once she has time to reflect, I think she will come to realize that what you offer her is far more important than her pride or maintaining a friendship with someone who has meant to control her.” Naneth chuckled slightly. “Elenna is a feisty one. She will regain her own self and remember her own wisdom. You have shaken her world, child.”

“She has certainly shaken mine,” I admitted.

Naneth chuckled again. “And that will be what will lead her back to you.”

“I do not know that,” I said. “I cannot see her admitting she was wrong about Calith. She was far too angry in her defense of him.”

“Do not despair,” she smiled. “Elenna loves you. The pull back to you will be stronger than any hold Calith might have over her.”

“Does she love me?” I asked, wanting reassurance. “Or have I only interpreted her feelings the way I wished them to be?”

“Love is a very strong bond among our kind, Aldamir. It cannot be ignored for long.” Naneth kissed my cheek lightly. “She does not want to ignore what she has found with you. Give her time to set straight her life. And take heart, child; in time, I believe that she will be receptive to you once again.”

“I know, Naneth, that you are gifted with understanding, and I do not doubt you,” I said. “But I am not certain that Elenna will ever see me the same as she did before Calith came.”

Naneth smiled sadly. “She still sees you the same as she did before. All that will be required is for Calith to touch her or kiss her. As a female, I can tell you that if the touch of a male is not welcome from deep within, then the act will make her recoil. Her heart will immediately turn back to the one who whose heart is tied to hers.”

“I hope that you are right,” I said.

“I think I am,” Naneth said with assurance. “I can not predict the future, but I can understand what troubles her now. You need only give her time.”

I smiled grimly. “I want to break Calith’s neck.”

Naneth laughed lightly. “And he knows this too. He will not hold sway over her much longer.”

At that moment, I felt the shift in the trees once again that told me that someone approached. Adar appeared from the darkness of the trees. I started to rise, but he motioned me to remain seated. “I wondered where my wife and son had disappeared to,” he said as he seated himself next to us under the old oak. He eyed me carefully, but said nothing.

“We were talking,” Naneth said softly. I did not fully understand the bond they shared, but I could feel that she was reaching out to Adar and he was open to her.

Slowly, he leaned forward and cupped my face in his hand. “I love you, child,” he said, “And I am proud of you.”

“Thank you, Adar,” I said. “I love you too.”

Adar reached out to me then and I fell forward into his embrace. His strong arms enclosed me in a grip that poured warmth and strength into my damaged heart. With a firm kiss to my head, he whispered, “My son.”

Chapter Thirteen: Elenna

The birds sounded annoyingly happy on this bright morning, I thought as I crammed my sleep gown into my pack. The gown sprang back out, taunting me, like a merry little mouse popping from its hole. “Stay in there!” I snapped as I punched it back to its place.  I pushed my brush down into the side of the jumbled mess of clothing and personal items and was mildly pleased that it stayed where I had put it. Still, I could not shake my annoyance with the process of packing for the long trip back home. I simply did not want to do this.

I sighed heavily and went over to the window of the bedroom I had used at my Aunt’s cottage. Pushing aside the window covering, I glanced out at the early morning and restrained myself from shouting at the birds to cease their happy song. What was there to be joyous about? My life was in ruins!

Just weeks ago, I had come to the stronghold with my father to see the king, and I expected nothing more than a pleasant trip to see the main village. Little did I know that I would see my whole world tossed into an upheaval. And it was entirely my fault! How could I have been so foolish?

What I had dreamed of for so long had finally been within my grasp, and I not only let it slip away, but I had thrown it away with my own pride and foolishness! I dropped my head into my hands and felt the tears that I had thought were done rise once again to my eyes. Everything had gone wrong, terribly wrong.

Slowly, I went back to the bed and sat down next to my bag. Little sleep had come to me the night before, and I felt exhaustion tugging at me as insistently as a child wanting his mother’s attention. I had cried myself into dropping off for a few moments, only to be awakened by angry dreams and disoriented scenes of people and spiders that I could not make sense of.

On the table at the side of the bed, I saw a book I had put there myself. I simply sat staring at it as if the answers to all my problems could be found between its covers. Inside the book was the yellow flower Aldamir had given me the night of our walk to the river. Gently, I took up the slender volume, allowing my fingers to feel the grain of old leather having grown soft from repeated use. Love and gentle hands had cared for this small book of poetry. Taking a shaky breath, I opened it to find the flower exactly where I had placed it, pressed between a folded parchment. The color of the bloom had not faded, and the petals were still supple. I held it to my nose, but found the fragrance had faded to nothing more than a sweet memory.

I snapped the book closed and dropped it on the table. Was I going to close this part of my life as simply as a used book? I could not bear the thought of leaving without seeing Aldamir again. But he would not wish to see me, I was certain. I had said many awful things to him the night before, things I did not mean. I had not wanted to believe that Calith had lied to me.

My chest felt as if it would collapse from want of air when I thought about our argument.  The shock of hearing that Calith had lied was enough, but then, I reacted childishly and vehemently in his defense. When I was removed from the heat of the moment, and able to view what had happened without anger, I could see that Aldamir was indeed telling me the truth. Though I thought nothing of it at the time, I could see now that Calith’s reaction when Aldamir asked me to walk was not that of someone who cared about my happiness or wellbeing. Calith was not fearful for me, but for himself. And when Aldamir pulled me back against him and told Calith that he would he watching him, I realized that Aldamir acted out of love for me; Calith did not. What a fool I had been!

If destroying Aldamir’s feelings for me was not enough, I was also sick with guilt over matters I should have told Aldamir about immediately, weeks ago. Despite my anguish about Aldamir, my romantic difficulties paled in comparison to the knowledge I had withheld from him.  Misguided loyalty caused me to stumble in doing what I knew was right. Again, I had allowed other people to influence me. I had no excuse for my weakness; I should have seen the possible dangers of my silence. I had to tell Aldamir all I knew even if my confession meant I would be hauled before the king to confirm to him that I was indeed the fool that I am sure he thought me to be. If I did not, then I would be acting with the same deceitfulness than I so despised in Calith.

Angrily, I snapped the flap of my bag shut, tugging on it to make the strap ends meet. As soon as I got the upper ones under control, the bottom ones would slip from my grasp. Finally, in frustration, I flung the bag backward across the bed and the same errant gown of earlier tumbled like a loose sheet onto the floor. I stared at the white, wispy bunch of cloth with pale green ribbons twirled across the floor and knew that I would not leave without setting right what should have been done long before this point.

I snatched the parchment containing the dried flower from the bed and slid it into my pocket. I would tell him all. I would no longer carry the secrets of fools. And I was firmly in the middle of this fraudulent gaggle. No longer would I bear this burden!

My aunt called to me as I marched through the sitting room of her cottage toward the door. “I will be back soon,” was all I replied as I continued on my quest. May all forgive me, but I would not be swayed this time.

The morning was still young, but hopefully, Aldamir was in his office in the palace. I knew not where else to look for him, but someone there would know where to find him if he was not. The further I walked, the faster my steps became. I had to get to him. Even if he would have nothing further to do with me, I would see him once more and confess all I knew. I prayed for mercy and strength from the Valar. Only they knew how much I would need it.

As I crossed the Green, I was nearly running toward the Great Steps. I passed Elves as they went about their day and some spoke, but I had no time or interest in politeness. Taking the steps as quickly as I could, I came to the open doors of the palace. I paused to see if the guards would stop me, but they did not.

Once inside the Grand Entry, I stopped abruptly and looked around me. Other than the Great Hall, I had never been in the palace. Tall delicately carved columns reached to the high, polished ceiling all around me. The doors to the Great Hall were closed and two guards stood on either side of them. A corridor stretched out in front of me. Two more guards were stationed there. To my right, another long corridor went off along the side of the Great Hall. And to my left, yet another corridor extended as far as I could see. Straightening my shoulders as if I were confident of my being in this place, I walked steadily to the guards at the corridor in front of me. I could see tapestries and doors and finely carved furniture in this hallway and then another set of doors that were closed. Two more guards stood there.

“Excuse me,” I said to one of the guards. “I would like to see Lord Aldamir. Could you tell me how I might find him?”

The guard glanced to the other one and then back to me. “I will take you to his aide. He can help you.”

“Thank you,” I said breathlessly, as if a great weight had been taken from me.

“Please follow me,” he said and started down the corridor. I followed silently, realizing that my footsteps were sinking into a deeply piled carpet runner that ran the length of the corridor. My heart was pounding and my mouth had gone completely dry, but I took in a cleansing breath of air and went onward.

Halfway down the hallway, he stopped at a door and turned to me. “This is Lord Aldamir’s office. His aide is in.”  Opening the door, he motioned me in.

An Elf dressed in the garb of a woodland warrior looked up from a desk and then stood as the guard and I entered. “The mistress would like to see Lord Aldamir,” the guard said.

The warrior behind the desk smiled at me, and I felt slightly less nervous, but not enough to stop the shaking I felt inside. He nodded to the guard. “You may go.” The guard saluted him and backed out the door, closing it quietly.

“I am Culalda, Lord Aldamir’s aide,” he said, coming around the desk. “How may I help you?”

“I wish to see Lord Aldamir,” I said, my voice shaking more than I would have liked.

“I am sorry, mistress, but he is not here. Is there something that I could help you with?” he asked kindly.

At that point my knees went completely weak, and I felt as if all my courage had fled me, leaving me nothing more than a brittle shell on the brink of breaking. “No,” I whispered. I suddenly became aware of the hand on my elbow as Culalda directed me to a chair and motioned me to sit. “When do you expect him back?” I asked meekly, barely having the strength left to speak.

“I am afraid he will not be back until tomorrow or possibly even the day after. He is in the field,” Culalda told me.

Without warning, tears filled my eyes. I blinked in an attempt to tame them, but one escaped before I could stop it. I wiped it quickly from my cheek.

“Mistress,” Culalda said softly, “would you like some tea or a glass of water?”

“No, thank you,” I said as I stared at my hands in my lap.

Culalda squatted next to the chair. “Are you certain that there is nothing I can do? Would you like to see Lord Seregon? He is here.”

My lips formed the beginning of a refusal, but then I remembered that there was more to my quest to find Aldamir than my personal interest. I found my resolve again. I nodded. “Yes, thank you. If he is willing, I would like to speak to him.”

“Then I will only be a few moments,” he said as he stood.

True to his word, Culalda was indeed only gone for a less than a minute. He smiled slightly and held out his hand. “Please follow me. Lord Seregon will see you.”

We went only a short ways down the corridor and turned into another office that looked very much like Aldamir’s. “I am Elendur,” a warrior there said. “I am Lord Seregon’s aide. He will see you now.”

Again my heart was racing and my head felt light, but I followed Elendur into an adjoining office where Seregon stood behind his desk, his face completely unreadable. “You may go,” he said to his aide while watching me. Elendur closed the door, and I was suddenly alone with Seregon. My heart began to race again.  Motioning to a chair in front of his desk, he said, “Please, Elenna, be seated.”

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“What can I do for you?” he asked. I brought my gaze up to him, trying to gauge what he was feeling, knowing that he most likely was angry with me for what I had done. I felt he was closed and cautious. I found this no surprise.

“I came to see Ald…Lord Aldamir,” I corrected. “But he is not here.”

Seregon said nothing, waiting for me to continue. I truly wanted to go on, but the words were hard to form now that I was faced with telling him what I knew. But I had determined to do what I believed was right, and I would do so.

“There is something that I think you…the king…the commander should know,” I said carefully but still, I stumbled over the words.

“What is that?” he asked mildly.

“I know where the red-banded spiders came from,” I blurted out, simply to get to the heart of what I had to say and be done with it.

A look of shock crossed his face, but it quickly faded into a neutral expression. “Where?” he asked simply.

“Only a few Elves know of this,” I said, “and I came by this knowledge on the journey to the stronghold, as did my father,” I added quickly.

“What is it that you learned?” he asked.

“First,” I said, shakily, “you must know that they meant well. What they did, they did because they thought that it would benefit all. Truly, I wanted to tell Aldamir. I thought that the ones involved should do so themselves, but my father had sworn that he would not reveal this to anyone and he did not want me involved. Then Calith learned of this when he came and he did not think I should say anything either….”

“Wait!” Lord Seregon said, holding up his hand. “Slow down and start at the beginning.”

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “As I am sure you know, the web of a spider is useful in stopping bleeding,” I said as slowly as I could, but I still felt like my words were keeping pace with the racing of my heart. “There is a spider that is common in the western woodlands called a silk spinner. It is small, and somewhat aggressive, but no bigger than a brown garden spider.” I stopped for a moment to see if he was following me. He nodded and I went on. “The web it spins is stronger than other spiders, and there is something about it that stops blood flowing from a wound much more rapidly than other webs. Wounds also seem to heal more quickly when the silk spinner’s web is used. But the silk spinners are few and the web is hard to find. The web is actually strong enough to carefully weave into small bandages, but the web is so rare that there is not enough to offer much help.”

“What does this spider have to do with the red-banded spiders?” Seregon asked, impatiently.

“The silk spinner is kin to the red-banded spiders,” I said.

“Kin? What do you mean?” he asked as his brow wrinkled.

“Some of the healers of Calendon’s village thought that they could obtain more of the web if the spiders were larger. Not only would the amount be increased, but also the strength of the web. A few of the foresters aided them and they have been breeding these spiders to grow larger and more productive.”

“They deliberately bred the red-banded spiders?” Seregon spat out, his eyes narrowed with anger.

“Not exactly,” I told him, suddenly wishing to not be alone with this angry warrior. “They cross-bred many generations of silk spinners, choosing the largest and heartiest of each clutch, but they still did not obtained the size they desired. So they thought to cross-breed them with the giant black spiders that had come to the woods. I understand it was difficult, but they were able to obtain what they needed from a male black spider and then kill him before he could…do whatever he does. Then they placed this on the web pads of the smaller spider and this male spider then mixed his…his…”

“His what?” Seregon snapped.

“His…fluid,” I mumbled. Seregon’s brow wrinkled as he stared wide-eyed at me as if I had gone completely mad. “Then,” I went on, “the smaller male injected this mixture into the female.”

Seregon had gone pale by this time, and I was sure that I was red as a ripe summer berry judging by the heat I felt on my cheeks.

“And this produced the red-banded spiders?” he asked finally.

“Not at first,” I said. “It took many generations, but instead of stopping when they were finally producing a spider about the size of a hand, they continued to use the giant spider’s…fluid because many of the hatched clutches did not reproduce and then suddenly they had a clutch hatch that no longer resembled the small silk spinners, but instead they had bred a clutch of giant spiders that were aggressive and more like the black spiders.”  As I watched him, I thought he appeared as if he were nearly ready to jump from his chair. “The spiders were so large and aggressive, that they escaped.” I smiled grimly. “No Elves were harmed in the escape, but they were quite frightened.”

“Not as frightened as they will be when the king finds out!” Seregon yelled as he sprang from his chair.

I was startled by his sudden outburst and automatically stood as he did, but he turned back to me and waved his hand. “Oh, sit down, Elenna.” He wiped his hand over his face. “Why did they not tell us? Why did they not tell the western patrol?”

“The escape was the point at which Calendon came to Adar and told him that the spider situation was so bad that the time had come to go to the king for help. Adar thought that Calendon was talking about the ordinary black spiders and indeed, Adar thinks now that this is what Calendon wanted him to believe. They had discussed the black spiders in the past, and Adar did agree that the black spiders had multiplied beyond our ability to handle them. It was only on the journey here that Calendon told us about the red-banded spiders. He swore an oath to Adar that the experiments had ceased and that the healers and foresters were destroying everything to do with them.  Calendon told us that they suspected that the red-banded spiders would not be capable of reproduction and that in their experience with the cross-bred spiders, they found that the lifespan was significantly shorter. They believed the spiders would simply die out quickly. He pleaded with Adar to keep this between them. He promised Adar that nothing like this would ever happen again. Adar gave him his word that he would not reveal this to anyone as long as Calendon and his villagers held to their promise.”

“Why have you waited so long to tell us this?”  Seregon asked. “And why now?”

“I wanted to tell Aldamir, especially after I heard that his youngest brother had been bitten. I went to my father when I heard about Legolas’s injury and begged him to tell the king. He was adamant that Calendon was responsible for this situation and that it was he who should tell the king. Adar still did not want me involved. He and Calendon had a heated disagreement, and I am not sure exactly what was decided, if anything. But I had decided that I would tell Aldamir when I saw him on the morning he returned from going to see the novices. Then Calith arrived….

Seregon sighed heavily and sat down in his chair, rubbing his forehead. “I have to tell the king,” he said. I thought he seemed regretful that he would have to reveal to the king the news I had brought, but I understood that it was his duty. News such as this could not be ignored.

“I know,” I said softly.

He sat up straight. “How could this have happened, Elenna?  I am no master in the ways of the heart, but I had thought that you truly loved Aldamir.”

 My heart was once again pounding against my chest, and I felt the sting of tears rising. I tried to stop them, but I could feel them coming like a swollen stream. “I am a fool, my lord,” I said softly. “I have no other defense.”

“What will you do about this?” he asked me.

“I think there is little that I can do,” I said. “I have squandered Aldamir’s love, and his trust, and I deserve nothing but his scorn. Please understand, I never meant to hurt him. The outlying villages can be lonely for those of us who have not found our mates, my lord. There are few of us who are young and many of the males become warriors, leaving even fewer of us as we come of age.  I have known Calith since we were children. Though we were friends from an early age, I never thought of him as someone I would wish to bond with. But as I grew into adulthood and for long afterwards, I came to despair of finding anyone who made my heart sing and my being come alive. I was fond of Calith even though my parents and friends did not regard him highly. But I found him bright and knowledgeable about many subjects, and we spent long hours simply talking, turning our thoughts and desires around and around like a crystal, gazing for each color of the prism, searching for the exact one that would reveal to us a deeper truth.  He had few friends, but so did I. I thought of him as only a friend, and thought he viewed me the same way.”

“And when he proposed, you did not see that he was more serious than you had thought?”  Seregon asked.

“He proposed to me just before we traveled to the stronghold, and I knew even then that I did not love him as I hoped that I would someday love someone. But by that time I had lost hope that true love would ever come to me. If life with Calith could be pleasant and comfortable, perhaps that was the best I could hope for. For a moment, I convinced myself that I could be happy with him. And truly, my lord, I did care for him. When he asked me, I did not know what to say. I did not wish to hurt him by refusing, and I was not ready to entirely reject the idea either. I had no hope that what my heart truly desired lay at the end of my journey, and there I would find something stronger and more wonderful than even the brightest moments of my dreams. In my dazed joy, it never occurred to me that Calith would not understand. I thought he would rejoice with me that I had found such happiness.”

After a moment of silence, Seregon asked, “By your own admission, you do not love Calith; he is of little matter. What do you want, Elenna?”

My heart was heavy at that point, and the burden of carrying its weight within me was more than I had the strength to bear. Truly, I simply wanted to lie down and sleep until all the entanglements of my life had unknotted themselves. I was exhausted, spent from heartache, worry, anger and fear. I had little left to offer myself or anyone else. “What do I want?” I repeated softly. “Peace of mind,” I said. “I cannot not ask for anything more, I do not think.”

“All is not lost,” he said mildly.

I smiled sadly, feeling the faint winging of a deep sorrow gently lift the corners of my mouth as if it had nowhere else to go. “My heart is lost, my lord. My life as I knew it is lost. All that I have valued, I have let slip from me. I have shamed myself and my family by my actions. And I stand prepared to answer for it.”

Lord Seregon stood and came to me. I did not have the strength left to stand as he did. I simply sat with my head bowed and staring at nothing, feeling the powerful burn of threatening tears. He knelt at my side and placed his hands on the arm of the chair. “Elenna,” he said quietly, “do not give up hope. Tell Aldamir all the things you have just told me. He is hurt, but he will listen. You might find that he feels much the same as you.”

“I am the cause of his hurt,” I said. “How can he ever believe me again?”

“Only he can answer that,” he said, “but I think that you might find he is willing to forgive more than you think.”

A small glimmer of hope ignited in my chest and flickered in want of more. I lifted my head to look at Seregon, but I found that I was afraid to say anything. I did not want to destroy this small token.

“Aldamir will return tomorrow or the following morning,” he said. “You will see him then.”

“But we will be gone,” I protested. “We are leaving in a few hours.”

Lord Seregon stood and smiled kindly. “I do not think so, mistress Elenna,” he said as extended his hand to me. “Come. Let us go tell this incredible story to the king.”

I took his hand to rise, but my legs remained weak and shaky. He must have sensed my unsteadiness for he paused a moment to allow me to gain my footing. With a strong hand to my elbow, he slowly led me out into his aide’s office. “I will be with the king,” Seregon said as we passed through.

Suddenly I found myself retracing my earlier steps back out toward the Grand Entry. We left the soft walkway of the carpeted corridor, and I felt a second of surprise when my feet once again touched the solid, smooth stone of the Entry. Seregon took me to the door of the Great Hall and nodded to the guards. Each guard grasped a door handle and swung open the doors for us to enter. I could not breathe. Seregon did not release me from his grasp. I thought I should have felt frightened by this, but instead, I felt grateful that his strength would not allow me to falter.

At the back of the Hall, seated along benches were a few Elves, awaiting an audience with the king, I supposed. Other Elves, attendants to the king by their busy crisscrossing of the floor, carried on as if the commander’s second in command and a nervous slip of an elleth would not halt their duties. A few slowed to acknowledge the presence of Lord Seregon, but for me, there were only a few wary glances cast in my direction.

Seregon continued toward the center of the Hall where I saw that the doors to the Throne Room were thrown open and there, seated upon his throne was the king, listening to a courtier. Seregon came to a halt at the edge of a deep forest green runner. I nearly stumbled over him, so transfixed were my eyes at seeing the king seated on the throne. Thranduil wore a mithril crown interwoven with summer greenery and a scattering of tiny golden flowers. The deep green and brown of his silken formal robes seemed to proclaim his strength as surely as did the cool eyes that he settled upon us when we approached.

My mind carried swiftly back to the last time I had been in this room. I was a guest, seated next to Aldamir, falling in love with him at that very minute, and now I stood before the king feeling like a criminal. All I had to keep me from falling on my face in fear was Seregon’s strong grip on my arm and my determined but shaky resolve to see this through.

Once the attendant had completed what he was saying, the king waved him away. He fixed his gaze on us again and studied us for a very long moment. Seregon was straight and unreadable as he waited the king’s signal to approach. I could barely stay on my feet.

Finally, the king motioned us forward. My feet felt like heavy boulders as I tried to move them. Seregon tightened his grasp and gently pulled me forward. I do not think I have ever walked so far in my life; a short distance became thousands of leagues. As we approached the throne, Seregon stopped just past the mid-way and dropped to one knee, gently tugging at me. I curtsied deeply and held myself there. I heard the king give us leave to approach him, but I did not move until Seregon again urged me to do so. When we came to a stop at the foot of the raised throne, I did not look up at the king. I could not. My eyes could focus on nothing as fear and tears swam in my watery view.

“My lord,” Seregon said, “there is something that I would discuss with you in private if it so pleases you.”

The king paused for so long, that I finally slid my eyes upward to see him. He gazed at us dispassionately, but with a look in his eyes that made me hasten to look down again. Finally, he said, “Come to my office.” I could hear the king stand and descend the steps. I moved at Seregon’s urging and simply went where he led me.

We followed the king through the back of the throne room and through another door. An attendant jumped to his feet in the office we entered, but we simply passed him by as we trailed behind the soft rustle of the king’s robes. Seregon came to a halt and I stopped, leaning slightly into his side as if he would somehow offer me protection. I knew that he would not; I was on my own now that I was in front of the king, but I could not help wishing for someone to take this away from me.

The king seated himself behind a large ornately carved desk. Again he simply looked at us, before he spoke. “Be seated,” he said. Seregon directed me to a chair in front of the desk. I sat, but still could not control the quaking of my knees. I pressed them together and tried to breathe.

“What is it that you wish to discuss?” the king asked.

“My lord,” Seregon began, “Mistress Elenna has come to me this morning with some important information regarding the villagers and the recent red-banded spider attacks.”

“Indeed,” the king said. “What would this information be?”

Still unable to look up, I was greatly relieved when Seregon did not require me to explain to the king what I had told him. He repeated the tale as I attempted to remain composed. I reminded myself that I had done the right thing, and that I could withstand whatever anger the king might direct toward me.

When Seregon completed what he had to say, the silence was deafening. “Is this true?” the king asked, his voice cold and angry. Seregon touched my arm to stir me.

“Yes, my lord,” I said softly. “Lord Seregon has repeated to you exactly what I told him.”

“And you witnessed this conversation between your father and Calendon?” the king asked.

“I did, my lord.”

“The fools!” he spat out. “What manner of Elf would be so mad as to tamper with nature?”

“The healers meant well,” I offered nervously.

“Meaning well does not excuse the folly of such an action,” the king snapped. “Healers especially should have better sense than to try to bend nature to their own will! There could only be unwanted or unexpected repercussions. There is no excuse for them not to see this. They are charged with the wellbeing of my people, not the insane meddling into the affairs of creation!”

I shrank further into my chair and remained silent.

“Does you adar know that you have come to me?” the king asked.

“No, my lord,” I answered softly. “I told no one that I was coming here.”

Thranduil jumped from his chair, startling me, but I attempted to rise anyway. I swayed but managed to gain my feet along side Seregon. “Send for the fools!” the king barked. “I want them in front of me as quickly as you can drag them here! Bring them to the Great Hall,” he ordered as he swept from the room.

“Elenna,” Seregon said softly, and when I merely stood frozen to the spot and did not respond, he repeated my name. I turned to him. “I will take you back to my office where you can wait while I send for the village leaders.” I nodded, feeling the slow fogginess of being trapped in a bad dream that would not end. “I know you are frightened and upset, but you have done the right thing,” he said kindly. “I do not know what the king thinks, but I can tell you that I understand how hard this was for you. You have risked much for the good of the realm. I do not believe that your courage will go unnoticed.”

“I do not feel brave,” I whispered. “I feel terrible.”

Seregon smiled as he took my elbow again to lead me from the king’s office. “You have been placed in an unfair position. To reveal this to the king did indeed take courage. Take heart, Elenna, I do not think you will be held to blame.”

“But I did not say anything,” I said as we entered the corridor. “I have waited until the king’s own son has been bitten by these awful spiders and until we had nearly left to return to our homes, villages now free of spiders because the king saw to our safety. I am ashamed of how long I have waited.”

Seregon stopped and tuned to me. “Elenna, your father tried to protect you by asking you to not get involved. He insisted that you remain silent. While his motives may have been admirable, he placed you in a difficult position. You had to disobey him to come to us. But Calendon bears the most blame. The king will see this.”

“How will I ever show my face in my own home again?” I asked. “I have betrayed my own father and the leader of our sister village.”

“The people of your village and the majority of the people of Calendon’s village do not know of this, am I right?” he asked.

“They do not know,” I said.

“Why do you think that is, Elenna?” he asked. “Calendon kept this a secret because he knew that he and his healers would meet with strong opposition. I have a feeling that your people will not see that they have anything to forgive you for.” At the door of his aide’s office, he stopped and turned to me once again. “From what I have seen of your father, I would guess that he will be relieved that this has been revealed as well. I am certain he will regret that you had to become involved to see done what he should have taken upon himself, but I do not think he will feel badly toward you.”

“I hope that you are right,” I said as we went through the door.

Elendur came to his feet. Seregon motioned me to chair. “Look after mistress Elenna while I attend some business for the king,” he told his aide. “Some tea would be nice, I think,” he smiled.

I had barely taken a sip of the tea Elendur had sent for, when Seregon reappeared at the door. “Come,” he said. “The leaders are in the Great Hall.”

The cup clattered as I quickly sat it back upon the saucer. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach again, but I stood and went to Seregon. As we walked into the corridor, I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath. I had come this far and I would take the king’s judgment as steadily as I could. At that moment, I was suddenly grateful that Aldamir was not there to see me standing in wait of judgment before his father.

Instead of taking me into the Great Hall, Seregon escorted me back to the outer room of Thanduil’s office and bade me to sit. “Wait here,” he said and then left, swiftly and quietly, through the door into the back of the throne room. I glanced at the king’s aide and then back to the door. “What is happening?” I asked.

The aide put his quill down. “My guess is that the king will confront the leaders and give them a chance to tell him the truth. He will involve you only if necessary.”

“I cannot stand not knowing what is happening,” I said, my heart caught in my throat. “My adar is there.”

The aide rose and went to the door. Very quietly, he opened the door a few inches so that we could hear. “I do not think the king will mind. His intent is not to prevent you from knowing what is going on; he simply means to protect you.” He motioned to me. “Come, you can see a little of what is happening.”

Indeed, he was correct; I could see the back of the throne and my position was angled just enough to see my father and Calendon flanked by two warriors walking toward the king on the slender green rug. At the same place where Seregon and I had stopped, they did as well, both dropping to one knee.

“Rise,” the king said. “Approach the throne.”

Adar and Calendon went forward and stood at the bottom of the dais. Frantically, I searched my father’s face. I was surprised to see how calm he appeared. His face was serene and relaxed. However, Calendon did not look as confident. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he started up at the fearsome visage of an obviously angry king.

Thranduil did not speak for a moment, and I could not see his face. Sliding my hand into my pocket, I fingered the parchment with Aldamir’s flower in it, waiting anxiously for what the king would say. Adar stood straight and tall as he waited. Calendon seemed to be shrinking.

“Do either of you have anything to say in your defense for what has been happening in secret in your villages?” the king demanded.

My father’s shoulders relaxed. “I do, my lord,” he said.

“No,” Calendon said with a raised hand. His hand quivered slightly, but he seemed to take a breath that gave him courage. “This is my responsibility. I am the one who will answer the king.”

“Then do so,” I heard the king say sternly.

As I listened to Calendon confess about the spiders, I watched my father. His eyes were downcast as he listened intently. As far as I could see, his face was placid enough, but I could not help but feel horrified that he was there because of me. My heart ached for him.

“I am astounded at the foolishness of this,” I heard the king say. “But I am even more displeased that once you saw the errors of your experiments that you did not seek out the proper authorities immediately. You assumed much in your decisions to hide this from us. You thought that the spiders could not reproduce, but you did not know for certain. You thought that their life spans would be short, but you did not know for certain. And you thought that their venom would not be more virulent than the small silk spinner, but you did not know for certain,” he said his voice rising. “But what you did know was this clutch of spiders was loose in my kingdom and you did nothing! You have risked lives with your silence. Warriors were tied up searching for them. My commanders were pressed in trying to see them located and destroyed before anyone came to harm. Indeed, someone did come to harm. A group of novices and their masters were attacked and had fortune not played a hand in aiding us, all of these children and five adults would have been overwhelmed and lost to us!” Thranduil leaned forward and spoke slowly; I could hear the seething anger in his voice. “I can tell you that the venom of this spider was indeed virulent. I sat by the bed of my youngest son as he burned with fever and cried in pain. I held his head as he retched until he was too weak to do so. His naneth and I waited in fear as the healers tried to save him, not knowing if what they did would be of any use against this venom or not. And you said nothing!”

I cringed as I saw pain on my father’s face. The color blanched from his face, even as his cheeks turned red with heat.

The king sat back. “You are both fathers. How could you allow any child to go through this? Any parent? Any Elf? And where do I find it my father’s heart to forgive you? Or as your king?”

“There is no excuse, my lord,” my father said. “There is none.”

“No,” Thranduil agreed. “There is not.” From the side, I could see the king tilt his head upward to look down on the two Elves.  “I have determined my judgment,” he said. “Calendon,” he said as turned toward the leader. “Your behavior has demonstrated your lack of leadership ability. You have betrayed the throne and you have betrayed the confidence of your people. I do not involve myself in the politics of the villages unless it becomes necessary, but in this instance, you have given me no choice. I relieve you of your office as leader of your village. You may continue to live there if your people will accept you. You may not hold office again for two hundred years and then only with my permission. You will report the names of the healers and foresters who were involved in this to my scribe. I will choose a healer from here that I will send regularly to oversee the healers in your village. We are far too short of healers for me to strip them of the ability to help, but they will be required to keep detailed records on every person they aid and every potion they mix. These records will be reviewed by my healer and in turn, this healer will report to me. You will be escorted back to you village where you will show the warriors where these experiments were carried out so that they can be certain that everything to do with this madness has been destroyed. I will prepare a declaration that will be read to your entire village detailing this insane breeding and my decrees regarding it. One of my advisors will accompany you back to ensure that a new leader is chosen in an appropriate manner. The western border patrol will also be made aware so that they may also watch over the innocent of your village.”

Calendon bowed his head. “I am indeed sorry, my lord. I accept your judgment willingly.”

“You will accept it willingly or not!” Thranduil snapped.

“Of course, my lord,” Calendon said softly.

Thranduil then turned his head toward my father. My breath caught in my throat and tears clouded my eyes again. “Sordien,” the king said. “I am surprised to find you involved in this sort of subterfuge. What made you agree to remain silent when the dangers of this folly became apparent to you?”

“My excuses are weak, my lord,” Adar said. “When I first heard of the spiders, I was shocked. I have known Calendon for nearly as long as I can remember. I have always known him to be kind and caring. I believed him that the motives for this breeding were good and honest, but I could see the dangers. I allowed our friendship to sway me against doing what I should have. I gave him my word, and I tried to hold to it. I was wrong and there is simply nothing more that I can say in my defense, my lord. I can only beg your forgiveness and the forgiveness of the queen and your youngest son.”

After a pause, the king said, “I will not remove you from you position of leadership, Sordien, but I will require a vote of confidence from your people. A decree will be read to your village as well, and then if your people wish for you to remain as their leader, I will allow it. I will send an advisor with you to oversee this procedure.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. The people of our village loved my father, and I could not see them asking him to be removed from his leadership.

The king spoke again. “I will not tolerate such a thing as this again. Mercy will not be granted a second time. You will remain here until all arrangements are made for a healer, my advisors and a guard to travel with you. Word will be sent to you when you may depart.” Adar and Calendon bowed their heads in understanding. “You may go,” the king said. My father and Calendon bowed and retreated toward the back of the Hall.  As the crowd shuffled and moved, I caught a quick glimpse of some of the delegations from home. How badly I felt for my father; he had been humiliated in front of the people he had led here. How would I ever tell him that I had caused this?

Movement from the throne brought my eyes back to the king. He motioned to Seregon and Seregon slipped from the shadows, walking up the steps to the throne. He bent low to hear the king. I could not make out anything of what was said, but Seregon nodded, saluted formally and then descended. He motioned to him the two warriors who had come in with Adar and Calendon. After a quick word, they turned, moving swiftly to the back of the Hall again. My heart lurched. Surely there was nothing more to do about the leaders.

My view was limited, but I saw the guards scuffling with someone along the very back at the wall. I would not say there was much resistance from the person, but whoever it was did not seem inclined to come forward easily. As the small crowd parted, the guards emerged with Calith firmly held between the two of them. I gasped. Truly, I did feel ill at that point. Aldamir had told me that the king might confront Calith, but I surely did not expect to stand witness to it. The last thing I wanted was to hear the mistakes of my romantic entanglements revealed in public.

Calith and his guards came to a stop midway to the king where he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

“Rise and come forward,” the king said as his voice once again boomed in anger.

Calith got up slowly, but as he did, he cast glances to and fro as if looking to see how he could disengage from this horrible situation. My heart was pounding. Slowly he walked forward. His face was pale and his eyes large as he seemingly watched his steps carefully, as if counting each one to the king.

When he reached the dais, the king ordered, “On your knees.”

A look of surprise flitted across Calith’s face, and then I could no longer see his expression as he sank to both knees at the king’s feet.

“You have played with fire, Calith,” the king said.

“I…I am not certain what you mean, my lord,” Calith stammered out.

The king stood and walked down to where Calith knelt. Slowly the king walked in a circle around him “Indeed,” the king said. “Perhaps I should jog your memory. Will that be necessary, Calith? Or do you not recall what lies you have told? Are there so many that you cannot possibly remember?” he asked.

“I am sorry, my lord,” Calith said. “I do not know of what you speak.”

Thranduil stopped and bent over Calith bowed head. “Is that so?” he said slowly. “Then you do not recall having any conversation with mistress Elenna, Sordien’s daughter, regarding the reputation of a member of my family?” Thranduil stood quickly. “Think carefully before you answer. You would not wish to hide the truth.”

“My lord,” Calith said as he sank further down, “I repeated only what I had been told. The source of these stories was not with me, but with members of the western border patrol.”

“I see,” Thranduil said. “Then I want the names of the warriors who are spreading lies. Who are they? Name them.”

“I…do not recall their names, sire,” Calith said.

“You know these warriors well enough for them to tell you such intimate details, yet you do not know their names? I find that odd.”

“I do not know their names, my lord,” Calith whispered.

“Then what did they look like? Surely you can give me description of them,” Thranduil said as he continued his circling.

“I saw them only briefly. I did not pay attention to such details,” Calith said, his voice growing more and more distant and unsteady.

“Yet you recall in great detail what you claim they said,” the king reminded him. “Would you recognize the warriors, if you saw them again?”

“I do not know,” he said. “It was dark, and I was really only listening.”

“You were eavesdropping then?  Though you claimed that the warriors told you personally the stories you repeated.”

“I..I..simply heard them,” Calith said, his voice quivering.

Thranduil stopped again in front of Calith. “Let me be certain that I understand you. You do not know the names of the warriors you heard gossiping. Nor do you know what they look like. Furthermore, you do not know even if you would recognize them if you saw them again, because they were not talking to you directly; you merely overheard their conversation. Do I have this right?”

Calith shook his head as if confused.

“Perhaps you did not hear anyone at all. Perhaps you meant only to undermine a relationship, but in the workings of your deceit, you have insulted the crown gravely. You have willfully and maliciously spread rumors that reflect badly on me and on the sacred trust of the throne. I am very angry, Calith.” When Calith made no reply, the king said, “I do not care what prompted you to lie. I do not care what you hoped to gain. I do not care for any excuses you may have. The fact is that you slandered us-- undermining the authority of the crown.”

“That was not my intent,” Calith said meekly.

“I think it was,” the king said. “The only thing you did not intend was to get caught.” Thranduil turned and walked back to his throne. Once he had seated himself, he took up his oaken staff and held it. “From this moment onward or until I decree otherwise, you are banished from the main village and the stronghold. You may return to your family in your village and may they have mercy on you for your foolishness. I know not what mistress Elenna desires of her friendship with you, but I will say this, if she no longer desires you as a friend or as a betrothed, then you will honor her wishes or you will answer to me, as well as the male members of her family.  Make no mistake, Calith, my anger is not fueled by anything that my son might wish; he is unaware of anything that is transpiring here. My decree to you is solely based on the harm you have caused the crown. I will not abide such deceit. If you ever think to undermine the throne again, I will banish you from this forest for as long as Arda stands. Do I make myself clear?”

“You do, my lord,” Calith said. I cringed. I could hear the subtle tone of anger in Calith’s voice. The inflection was small, but it was there.

“You will be escorted to gather your things, and then you will be taken from here and set on your way back to your village. Go now from our sight,” the king said as he flicked his hand toward Seregon. Seregon in turn motioned to the guards. With one on each side of him, they pulled Calith to his feet and rushed him from the Hall. The crowd parted silently as they watched him hauled from court.

At that point, I realized that my hand was covering my mouth.  I sank back against the wall next to the door and squeezed my eyes closed to shut out all I had witnessed. My breath seemed to have left me with only short gasps to sustain me.

“What other business is there?” I heard the king say.

Slowly, my breathing calmed, and I opened my eyes to see the king’s aide watching me. He rose from his desk and motioned to the chair. “The worst seems to be over,” he said. “Please, sit. Someone will come for you shortly.”

Stunned, I walked slowly to the chair and lowered myself. Earlier that morning, when I thought my world had come unhinged, I had no idea that it could or would become even more ruined. I wanted to rush to my father, beg his forgiveness and leave this place. I trusted his love for me, but I feared his disappointment in me as well. But I would bear his displeasure with my actions if it would put behind us this horrible tragedy of guilt and deceit. I felt as if the only thing keeping me from running from this office and to him was the fear of bringing more of the king’s anger to bear on my father. Dropping my face into my hands, I could not stop the flow of hot tears.

“Elenna,” I heard Seregon say softly. He knelt in front of me and gently pulled my hands from my face.

“Please,” I pleaded. “May I leave now? Allow me to go to my father.”

He held my tear-stained hands in his and squeezed them gently. “Soon,” he said. “I will take you back to my office where the king wishes for you to wait until Calith has been removed from the village. If you wish to resume your friendship with him, then you may certainly do so when you return home, but the king wishes to spare you from any unpleasantness that might stem from his anger with Calith.”

“I will have to face him at some point,” I said, knowing that this would indeed be unpleasant, but I truly did not have any desire to do so on this day. “But there is nothing of our friendship to salvage. I have been foolish, and I would not continue to do so where he is concerned.”

“You will not have to worry about him further,” Seregon said. “The king will see to that. But I am told that you have relatives that will not allow Calith to bother you if you do not wish it.”

“My father will certainly be more than happy to show Calith the door,” I smiled weakly. “He has never cared much for him.”

“I am sure that this is true,” Seregon smiled. “But I was thinking of Tree. I am told that he is your mother’s cousin and somewhat overprotective of her and her daughters at times.”

“Tree,” I laughed lightly as I felt the familiar warmth of affection for this bear of a cousin. “He has never been reticent in voicing his opinion on any subject, but Calith has always been one of his favorite tirades.”

“Tirades?” Seregon chuckled. “I would not say that he has tirades to his face.”

I smiled more genuinely now as I thought about Tree. “Tree and I have had many discussions, my lord, and some of them quite heated. But I am safe with him, I know. He is more like a brother or uncle than a cousin to my sister and me.” I shook my head. “He can be rather overbearing at times.”

“In this instance,” Seregon said as he stood and extended his hand, “he may prove useful.”

I took Seregon’s hand and stood. “He is always useful, my lord, even if he is stubborn and free with his opinions.”

“Then you are safe in his and your father’s care,” Seregon said as he led me into the corridor.

I waited in Seregon’s office for nearly an hour before he returned to retrieve me. He smiled kindly as he told me that Calith had been taken by guard to the forest to begin his journey home. One of the friends Calith had arrived with had chosen to accompany Calith home.

Seregon walked with me back to my aunt’s cottage. “Would you like for me to stay while you greet your father?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I will be fine, but I thank you for your care.”

At that moment, my father came from the door of the cottage. He stopped as if surprised to see me and then held out his arms. I rushed into his embrace, sobbing until I could barely draw breath. “Oh, Adar,” I cried. “How can you forgive me?”

Adar held me closely and then kissed me firmly on my forehead. “Oh child, there is nothing for me to forgive. You were far braver than I have been.” He pushed my gently from him. “The question is: can you forgive a foolish old adar?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Adar. I love you,” I said through my hitching breath and rush of tears. I did not know how he knew that I had been the one to tell the story of the spiders to the king, but I supposed that it did not take much for him to note my absence and the sudden revealing of this secret. “I want to go home and forget all that has happened.”

“Soon, child,” he whispered as he gathered me to him again. “Soon.”

***Thanks to daw the minstrel for her knowledge of spider breeding. Who knew? I’m grateful for her continued support and suggestions. Also thanks to Meckinock for her patient wielding of her sword through this story. It’s bled at times, but her guidance is always kind and accurate. I’m sure I’ve missed some things that should have been corrected, but they are my errors. She’s done her best with me. :>)

                                                Chapter Fifteen: Thranduil

My son and nephew would take the field on this day in the Warriors Renewal Trials. At Lalaith’s insistence that I would enjoy the time alone, I left her in the palace to complete her morning chores while Legolas fulfilled some of the studies he had missed while recovering. She assured me that they would follow soon.

When I stepped out onto the landing before the Great Doors, I took a moment to breathe in the sweet, clean air of mid-morning. The sky was a cloudless deep blue and the birds were busy and happily winging about. The pause from my daily routine was a welcome diversion and I truly enjoyed getting out into the forest, but I found, as I walked down the wide, well-worn path toward the warriors’ training field, my thoughts were again on the western forest. The villagers had departed nearly a week past, but still, they stayed on my mind. I was greatly relieved that the spiders had been driven back, but I could not completely shake my anger and shock that my own people had engaged in such trickery. Never would I cease to be amazed at the foolishness that can take a person. I have made many errors in my life, some worse than others, but I cannot imagine what would make someone believe that he can meddle in the affairs of creation. Our enemy has done so, and this alone should serve as warning. Even though there are times when we must take chances, these decisions must be undertaken with thoughts for possible outcomes. Consequences, both good and bad, are assured no matter the course, but unexpected ones are almost as certain as the ones we anticipate. One would think that an Elf had lived long enough to know this simple truth. But then, I need only recall the history of my own kind to know that even Elves can be misled by their own passions.

The red-banded spiders had been as much a surprise to their creators as they had been to me. The unintended consequences had dwelt somewhere between good and evil, neither wholly one nor the other. Intent on the part of the instigators might have been altruistic, but their foresight had been dangerously limited. Did Calendon’s people understand the sacrifices of playing with evil? I did not think they did. I knew that when I sent my troops into the forest to protect this realm that there would be casualties. I also knew that we would perish without the aid of the warriors to guard and defend us, but still, I had sacrificed good, brave Elves to our fight. The villagers were blinded by the desire to do as they saw fit and by the relative peace they had lived in until evil began to creep into their blissful safety. I could not fault them for wishing to bring betterment to their ways of healing, but I did indeed fault them for not considering what the consequences might be for overreaching the boundaries of good sense. I also could not forget the obvious fact that they hid their machinations from me and from the other villagers. They knew there would be protest of their experiments, and they learned all too well why these objections would have been valid. In this instance, they created a cure that was worse than the affliction.

My troops and all three of my sons had been thrust into conflict with these Elven-made creatures. That thought alone turned my stomach. I could have lost my own child. Other parents, spouses and children could have lost their loved ones to the shortsightedness of Calendon and his healers as well. The evil that we were already saddled with was enough.

I sighed; Legolas was well and for that I was grateful. As is the nature of the young, he was back to the happy adolescent that he was before, seemingly no worse for the experience he suffered. A part of me was pleased at his resilience, yet another part of me worried that he still did not grasp the dangers that awaited him in the future. As a father, I could rationalize and justify both sides of his nature.  Perhaps a firm middle ground was what I should wish for him, but the fear a parent always holds close to heart prevented me from being entirely comfortable with either side. Struggling with allowing Legolas to venture from my protection was not new to me. I had done this with two older sons already, and I found that I was no better at it the third time than I was with the first two. My fears and worries for Aldamir and Erelas were no less now than when they were Legolas’s age, but I had faith in their abilities. Still, I had lived through enough unexpected consequences to know that being well trained was not enough. Lalaith and I worried about them daily, just as did every other family who had someone serving. All I had was the firm resolve to not let my fears rule me.  I could no more protect my sons from their destiny than I could my own father or Tarondor. I could merely pray that my sons would not be destined for the same fate.

But it seemed that fate was guiding much with or without my consent. Even as Legolas grew far too rapidly toward adulthood, my oldest son had tasted the first bittersweet experience of love. The moment I first saw Aldamir with Elenna, I knew that his feelings for her went far beyond anything he had ever felt. Aldamir had always been rather reluctant to get involved in serious relationships. As he grew up, I saw the mild interest he had in some maidens, and as he got older, there were a few elleths who seemed to stir a deeper interest, but nothing more ever came of those friendships. Elenna was quite a surprise to us all. But none, I think, was more surprised than Aldamir. My son was completely unprepared for the depth of feelings he found rushing him. I sighed; no appropriate or successful warning existed that could be given to someone who has tasted the first fruit of a blossoming love.

I should know. When I first realized that I was in love with Lalaith, there was no turning back. My way was set and my heart completely in her keep. I had thought that her father would be the greatest obstacle to our plans. But I was wrong; Tarondor proved more stubborn than Aranel ever thought to be. Had it not been for Noreth distracting him, I do not know if I would have ever broken through his shock and anger. Tarondor was my closest friend; indeed, a brother to me. And that was the problem. Lalaith had played the role of our little sister since the day she had been born. When I suddenly realized that I did not see her in a brotherly fashion, I was as appalled as Tarondor.  Lalaith would not allow me to remain in a brotherly role and for this I am grateful. Tarondor had to have some time to come to terms with the fact, that while we had been protecting his sister from suitors, I had somehow become one of them. In the end, Tarondor gave us his blessing and embraced me, truly, as his brother. Working through the defenses of hardheaded relatives seemed mild in comparison to what Aldamir and Elenna have to work through.

From my own experience, I could easily understand how Aldamir fell so quickly and completely in love with Elenna. Fate is a tricky creature. She offers us our heart’s desire and then tosses mountains into our path. I have learned that if this heart’s desire is true, then there are no obstacles that will stand in our way. We will find a way to navigate the treacherous ground. Aldamir and Elenna were looking for the map that would take them through this foreign land. And if I knew people as I thought I did then I felt confident that they would find the path that would lead them back together. I supposed this recent trial could even be for the best. When we have to work for something we want, its value is increased. We cherish it dearly for we know what it is like to be without it.

I chuckled to myself. When I told Lalaith that I gave Aldamir a year to regain his footing, and then some mysterious errand would take him back to Elenna’s village, she laughed at me and said it would be no more than six months. My wife tells me that our son is deeply in love with this maiden. Lalaith also tells me that Elenna returns these feelings. I did not need her gift to see this myself about our son, but I was gratified to hear what Lalaith had to say about Elenna. I would not see my son hurt again by this maiden. Time was what Aldamir and Elenna needed, and I hoped that once they were back together, they would take the time to slowly build a lasting and trusting relationship.

But in the meantime, fate had played us a kinder turn. I took pleasure in the cooler air that carried the laughter and shouts of the spectators gathered for the games. Summer had not yet drifted from us, but the cooler days felt as if autumn would soon come to stay. I could not help but find this thought pleasing. Every season has its own glory, but when the trees change from their green raiment into an earthy blaze, no matter how many times I have witnessed this change, I continue to find myself awed by its beauty.

A crowd had already gathered in a joyous circle around the field, placing the participating warriors within the warm embrace of grateful and admiring kin. I greeted those about me then went to the place my wife had prepared earlier for us. A soft woven blanket had been placed upon a grassy patch amidst the families who had come to observe. Baskets of food and drink awaited us for midday meal. Lalaith had kindly ordered a chair for me and for herself. She claims I am old and in need of such comforts, but I believe her thoughtfulness in this case had to do with her wishing a higher perch with which to gain a better view of our son and nephew as they participated. I snorted to myself; I was as hale as I was an Age ago and as sturdy as I will be with the passing of another Age. This was merely one of Lalaith’s ways of never allowing me to forget that while I am the king, I am still hers to do with as she pleases. I remain grateful for whatever hand played a part in bringing her into my life and heart; she is the center of my being; indeed, my queen is the heartbeat of this realm.

Ignoring the chair, I settled onto the blanket and leaned against the wide trunk of an ancient but hearty beech. I smiled and patted a gnarled root in camaraderie. “We are two of a kind, old friend,” I said. An answering hum thrilled at my back.

As I watched the warriors who were sparring at the time, I sporadically glanced about to see the familiar faces of my people. Such a strong and beautiful people, they are: Silvan and Sinda folks brought together by a fierce love of this forest. Among them, I saw the magnificent blending of both Elvenkind in faces that smiled and laughed.

Across the field I spied Daeron. He was talking to his friends, laughing and by my estimation, betting on the outcome of the current match. I hoped he did not lose too much wagering, but thought again that such a loss might indeed be a good lesson learned.

I was proud of Daeron and the fine Elf he was becoming. In the spider attack upon the novices, he had faced his worst fears and triumphed. Perhaps he would never willingly share his seat with even the smallest garden spider, but he knew now that he could and indeed, would defend his home against a far worse threat than the innocuous spiders that had always frightened him. His adar, Tarondor, came to mind as he often did when I had a moment to reflect on his absence. And as always, I mourned that he could not see his sons. My old friend would be proud. My most heartfelt prayer is that he will be released from the Halls of Waiting so that on the day his sons finally sail into sight of the harbor of Aman, he will be waiting. I hope to be present for this meeting; I would not wish to miss the look on Tarondor’s face when he sets his eyes upon his strong, handsome sons.

Behind me, I heard a stirring and knew the queen had finally made her way to the fields. I stood and watched as she led Legolas through the crowd toward me. Our people bowed and smiled as she passed. Her smile was radiant as she spoke to them, calling many by name and asking after children, parents and grandchildren. I am warmed by the affection our people have for her, and by the love she has for them. On most days I feel the urge to congratulate myself on choosing her to be my mate, but in truth, I think it was she who chose me. Perhaps I even like that notion better.

When she finally reached me, Lalaith kissed my cheek, lingering for just a second to let me know that she felt my love for her and to allow me to feel through our bond the depth of her feelings for me. I wanted a real kiss, but this was neither the time nor the place for intimacy. I would wait. Legolas smiled uncomfortably at his parents’ public display, but dismissed us quickly enough as he turned to scan the crowds, looking to spend his time with his friends and not his disgustingly affectionate parents.

“I will only be a few moments,” Lalaith said. “I wish to speak to Morwen about a new gown she is making for me. You will be pleased to know that I have decided on the color.”  I smiled weakly. I did seem to recall a recent conversation to do with color schemes, but I hoped that she did not require me to tell her which color I had suggested since I did not recall the original choices. She gave me wink and a wry smile. “Legolas will keep you company until I return.”

He snapped back to us, his eyes wide with shock and despair that I would actually take his mother’s offer. Obviously, visiting with me was not in his plans. However, I thought with amusement, I would indeed like to spend a moment with this whirlwind son of mine.

“I would like that,” I said motioning our youngest son to me.

Legolas gave a resigned look to no one in particular. His shoulders slumped slightly, but he managed a rendition of a faint smile. “Yes Naneth.  I will keep Adar company.”

“Good,” she smiled and wandered off to join Noreth and the seamstress.

“Adar…” Legolas began.

I held my hand up to silence him.  “Come and sit with me, Legolas. Perhaps Aldamir and Seregon will soon take the field.”

He dropped dejectedly down next to me. “I thought I was no longer on restriction. Will I be required to stay here all day?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” he asked.

“On how much goodwill I feel toward you after I have spent time in your presence,” I smiled. “Besides I did not realize that spending time with me is akin to punishment.”

“Of course not, Adar. I did not mean that.”

“But you want to be with your friends?”

“I would like to, yes,” he said. “But I like very much being with you too.”

I threw my arm around his shoulders and pulled him to my side in a hug. “We will sit here in companionable happiness for a short while, and then I will allow you to go to your friends. You will grow up and be gone from me far too soon, iôn-nín.”

“I will always be here, Adar,” he told me sincerely.

“I hope so, Legolas, but you are not long from coming of age and I wish to cherish what time we have together before you are gone on patrols and making a life of your own. I want this for you, but do not begrudge your adar for wishing to enjoy your youth.”

I felt the gentle pressure of his body lean into mine. “I like being your son, Adar,” he said. “I will always want to be with you.”

My heart was full of love for this child. I knew he meant his words, but I also recalled being his age, straining at the tethers of youth, wanting to have what I thought would be the freedom from the limits of childhood.  I found out once I reached my majority and assumed my duties that I had never been freer than when I was in the protective embrace of my parents. But I do not regret the paths that I have taken, the paths that have led me to his naneth and to having him and his older brothers. I accept the responsibilities of husband and father freely and with great joy.  “I will always want you with me too, Legolas,” I said as I placed a kiss on the top of his head. I breathed in the scent of his hair and tried to memorize the feel of his body tucked so comfortably in my arm. He would be fully grown too soon. I would miss the child, but I looked forward to knowing the adult he would become. “Now let us watch the remainder of this bout,” I said.

As the duel on the field neared a certain end—the younger warrior was beginning to tire as the more experienced warrior ran him backwards in a swift assault—I saw Aldamir and Seregon move toward the rack of practice weapons. They did not select a sword, but stood talking as they watched the pair on the field carefully.

The close relationship of my oldest son and my nephew pleased me. They have always been good counterbalances for one another. They are enough alike to see their duties in the same vein, but different enough to offer new insights and challenges to push one another into reaching for ideas that each would not consider on his own. And they are devoted friends and allies. Aldamir was cautious by nature. When anything went wrong, he was quick to take all responsibility upon himself. I was pleased that he held to his duty so responsibly during the recent events, but I was also dismayed to know that he suffered so. Only experience as a commander would help him take less blame in the future when things went wrong under his command. Still, I knew from personal experience that one never completely gets past feeling some measure of blame when one is in command. But Aldamir was strong, and I trusted him to find a way to place these worries into their proper place.

“Adar?” Legolas’s voice brought me back to the fields. “I think Aldamir and Seregon are readying to spar.”  I looked up to see that the warriors who had been sparring were walking from the field toward Melda.

“Indeed,” I answered as I watched Aldamir shed his outer tunic and take up a protective leather breast plate. He walked slowly to the rack of practice swords. A mischief lit upon me as quickly as a touch of a butterfly. I turned to Legolas as I stood and motioned for him to remain seated.

“Where are you going? You will miss the bout,” he said.

I smiled as I watched Aldamir, his back to us as he swung different swords, testing them for a weight and balance that suited his hand. “I think I should like some exercise,” I said as I stepped over the fence separating the spectators from the field. I caught Seregon by the arm as he approached a weapons rack near me. He broke into a wide grin and bowed when I motioned him away from the rack. Quickly removing my outer tunic, I took the breastplate he offered me and slipped it on. After scanning the weapons on the rack, I chose one and swung it through the air. Letting my hand adjust to the feel of the sword, I reveled in the simplicity of a motion that felt so natural and at the same time so long missed. With the sword I chose in hand, I walked to the center of the field and waited. At my appearance, the crowd murmured softly and then fell silent.

Aldamir had not noticed the stir of the crowd, and when he turned, I could not help but be amused by the look of intensity on his face. He was completely focused on the sword he had drawn as he took a few steps forward. Finally, when he looked up to sight his quarry, the stunned expression on his face was worth all the wealth of this realm. Once the initial shock had passed, he smiled agreeably and bowed low--a bit dramatically, I thought. I returned his grin and tipped my sword in invitation. He came slowly toward me and began to circle. “You would have me best my king?” he asked.

“No, I would have you bested by your adar,” I said, following him with my own circle. I caught sight of Lalaith, standing with her arms folded and an amused smile upon her lips as she waited at the fence with Legolas and Seregon. Daeron and Alar rushed to come to a halt at their side. “My lady is watching,” I said, “and I would not have her disappointed.”

Aldamir tilted his head in understanding. “Indeed,” he grinned, obviously enjoying himself immensely. “My naneth is watching, and I would not have her disappointed.”

“She will understand,” I said as I made a quick forward thrust. Aldamir easily blocked it and moved back to circle. “Come on, child,” I goaded him. “Surely, you can do better than that.”

“I beg your pardon, Adar, but I am no child,” he said.

“Then you fancy yourself a warrior?” I asked lightly as I mirrored his steps.

“I fancy myself your son,” he said as he came against me with quick blows and equally as quick parries.

We feigned and parried, thrust and retreated, only to begin again and again. But he was still giving me my head, letting me lead this dance. “Why do you not come against me, child? I can take whatever you can wield,” I smiled.

He barked a short laugh. “I am told that you are growing in years and do not have the stamina that you once had. I do not want to end this too quickly—as your lady is looking on.”

“Why do you not put to the test how aged I am?” I beckoned him with my hand. I let down my defensive posture and allowed my sword to drift to my side. “You do not fear me, do you?” I asked as if incredulous at such a thought. As I expected, he charged me. I brought my sword back up to swiftly match him blow for blow, all the while allowing him the reins of this contest. When I had backed enough from him, I took an offensive tactic and pounded his sword until he was taking steps back from the power of my blows. We stayed with each other, pushing in turn toward the other until we were both drenched in sweat and breathing hard. Our swords rang out, echoing off the trees that stood around the field like amused old guards that were willing to allow us to finish one another.

Aldamir advanced again, thrusting his blade toward my mid-section. I leaned back enough to avoid his touch and swung my sword down to force his away. As I stepped into him, I swept my left foot out and caught him on the back of his calf. Our blades still locked, he stumbled backwards and fell with a dull thump onto the ground. I heard the air leave his chest. In a second’s time, I had my sword poised at his throat. “Not bad for an aged Elf,” I said as I dropped my sword to my side and held out my hand to him. He drew in a deep breath and took my offered hand to pull himself back to his feet. The crowd was roaring with laughter, shouts and clamorous applause. My eyes caught Lalaith’s for a moment; she was clapping and smiling joyfully at us. I felt the thrill of a delightful promise reach me through our bond. With a smile of my own and a gentle tug, I pulled Aldamir onward into my arms and hugged him fiercely. He was flushed and dripping with sweat, but he was laughing. His laughter. To me, this was the most joyous sound of all.

The End

Thanks to all who have read and stayed with me for the story. The saga of Aldamir and Elenna is not over and will continue at a later date in another story. And Legolas and Daeron have more growing up to do. I’ve had a wonderful time writing this and each and every review means more to me than you’ll ever know. Thanks so much for your kind support.