I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien, but they are his, not mine. I gain only the enriched imaginative life that I assume he intended me to gain.

Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter. 

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10.  Good Neighbors

In the circle of Legolas’s arms, the maiden had finally stopped shaking, and, a little reluctantly, he let her go and moved slightly away.  She drew a long breath.  “They need dry clothes,” she said.

Legolas surveyed the row of wet, shivering children who were regarding him and Tuilinn with solemn eyes.  The Mannish children in particular were looking blue about the lips, and even the Elvish children were huddled in on themselves in the sharp spring air. Adult Elves could withstand cold far better than Men could, but these children were not yet so resilient.   All of their clothes were wet, although those whom Tuilinn had been able to keep out of the flood waters were simply damp from the rain.  At least the rain has stopped, he thought thankfully.

“They do need dry clothes,” he agreed, “but I do not see how we are to get them.”

Tuilinn rose gracefully to her feet and walked toward the storage chest that stood near one edge of this flet, as was true of all the flets Legolas had seen here. “I am staying on this flet,” she told him. “We can probably find something for them to wear among my things.” She opened the chest, removed the bedroll and towel that were on top, and began sorting through the surprisingly small store of garments.  Pulling out a simple white night tunic, she turned to Talet.  “Here is a tunic for you, Talet, my heart,” she said.  “Legolas will help you change your clothes.”  She handed the tunic and towel to Legolas and then went back to her search.

Legolas drew the little boy closer to him and began to pull off his soaked clothes.  The child was still shaking.  He had had a very near call, Legolas thought, seeing him again, clinging to Tuilinn’s waist while the flood waters knocked his feet out from under him. No wonder he was still frightened.

“Come, little one,” he murmured, rubbing the small body briskly with the towel.  “We will get you dry and warm.  You were very strong and clever to hang on to Tuilinn like that.  That was the best thing you could have done.  When you are dressed again, you can help Tuilinn with Astiaa.” As Legolas talked, the child drew deep breaths and rubbed his cheek against the wet wool of Legolas’s cloak.  Legolas drew the tunic over the boy’s head and then wrapped him in a blanket.  By this time, Tuilinn had finished dressing Astiaa in an embroidered chemise that Legolas eyed curiously for a moment before turning hastily away when he felt heat rising in his face.  Tuilinn tucked the little girl into the blanket next to her brother, who put both arms around her, although it was hard to say if he sought most to give or receive comfort.

“Everything is all right now, Astiaa,” Talet declared, and she nodded her head trustingly, cuddling up against him.

Legolas turned to help the next child and found himself dealing with Ródien.  “Now how wet are you, my young warrior?” Legolas asked, and Ródien grinned at him.

“Not very,” he declared. “I just got rained on, but mostly my cloak got wet.  I can climb very well, so I did not fall into the water.  May I see your sword?”

“After everyone is taken care of,” Legolas laughed and moved to dry off the last little girl and dress her in a knitted jacket.  He turned to look at Tuilinn, who stood holding her hair away from her face and running her practiced eye over the children.  “You should put something dry on too,” he said.  He was soaked himself, but he did not have much hope of her pulling anything for him out the chest, not anything he would consent to wear anyway.

She eyed him a little skeptically for a second, then shrugged, went back to the chest, and pulled out a gown.  She raised an eyebrow at him, and he hastily turned his back on her, sat down next to Ródien, and unsheathed his sword.  Distracted by the idea of what was happening behind him, he rested its hilt in the child’s hand so that he could feel its weight for a moment.  Ródien could not actually lift the weapon, but he held it as carefully as if someone had put a fragile piece of glass in his hand.  “Look, Tuilinn,” he cried, peering around Legolas.  “I have the warrior’s sword.”

“Be careful with it,” she said in a voice whose muffled quality suggested that she was speaking through a layer of fabric.

Ródien continued looking behind Legolas. “She cannot really see me,” he said, obviously disappointed.

Firmly resisting temptation, Legolas resheathed the sword and took his bow from his back to dry and check it too.  He showed Ródien his packet of bowstrings, wrapped in a protective layer of waxed cloth to protect them.  “When you are bigger, you will learn to hunt with a bow like this,” he told the child, “and then you can help to feed our people.”

Ródien nodded. “That will be good,” he said, much too soberly for one so young.  Legolas could not resist hugging him and kissing the top of his head.

“Shall we play a game?” Tuilinn asked briskly, stepping into the circle of children. “Or would you like me to tell you a story?”

“I am hungry,” proclaimed Talet, to Legolas’s satisfaction.  The little boy looked much calmer, and if he was hungry, then his fear must have abated somewhat.

“I am afraid we have no food here,” Tuilinn said.

“If you can manage them alone, I can go through the trees to the flet where the food is stored,” Legolas offered.

Her face lit up. “Please do,” she responded.  “They really must be hungry.  We did not have mid-day meal, and the time for it is long past.  I do not mind caring for them by myself.  I am used to it.”

Legolas thought the Elves and Men were asking a great deal of her.  “How long have you been doing this?” he asked, trying to keep the disapproval from his voice.

“Just since the flood,” she said, looking surprised.  His irritation with Anyr and Crydus eased a little at that.  Her complete responsibility for the smallest children was a temporary measure then, brought on by the emergency of the flood.

“I will be back quickly,” he promised and set off through the treetops toward where the food was stored.  He scanned the waters below him as he went.  The rain had stopped, which should help matters some, and it seemed to him that the level of the water was dropping a little.  It is probably flowing into the Men’s fields further downstream, he thought grimly.  At least it was early enough in the spring that the Men would not have planted yet, so they would not lose their precious seed stock to the flood.

He was drawing near to his destination when he heard a sound that for a moment he could not identify because it seemed so out of place. Then he realized that it was the sound of oars splashing softly in the water. At the same moment, he heard a male voice speaking quietly.  “It is the one in that tree right there,” the voice said.

For a second, Legolas froze.  The voice could belong to one of Anyr’s or Crydus’s people, come to get food for the workers in the Men’s village, but the furtiveness with which the voice had spoken made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Something was wrong here. He moved silently forward to try to get a look at the boat.

Suddenly he caught a glimpse of it through the newly leafing tree branches.  Two Men were edging their boat toward the tree where the food was stored.  Legolas did not recognize either one of them, but that did not mean much. He did not know Crydus’s people.  He hesitated and had just decided to hail them and ask them their business when one of them rose and moved cautiously toward the fork in the tree.

“Be careful, you fool!” the other Man snapped as the boat rocked precariously. “These bags of meat will be worth a lot less if you tip this boat over and dump them into that dirty water.”

“Hold the boat still then,” the other frowned.  “I don’t know why we have to get more food anyway.   That meat will bring the best price in Esgaroth.  Nobody is going to want the vegetables or that acorn meal, and we should be getting on our way before anyone finds us.”

The Man at the oars snorted. “You’d be surprised what people will pay for when they’re hungry enough.  We’ll go as soon as we have the rest of the food.  Hurry up.  Now that the rain has stopped, Anyr’s people might decide they’ve done enough for Crydus and be back any minute.”  The other Man stepped from the boat into the tree and slowly began to climb toward the flet.

Legolas could not believe what he was hearing. These Men were stealing the precious food that Thranduil had sent, not because they were hungry themselves, although they might have been, but because they wanted money.  He almost could not comprehend it, and yet he could see the two missing bags of food in the boat.  Rage made his muscles tighten, but his hand was steady as he seized his bow, strung it with one of the protected bowstrings he had just shown to Ródien, and fitted an arrow to the string.  So far as he was concerned, these Men merited hard retribution, and he was its bearer.  He walked further out onto the branch until he was sure he would be visible from below.

“Stop where you are,” he ordered.

Both Men turned toward him with surprise writ large on their faces.  Then the right hand of the Man in the tree jumped toward the knife on his left hip.  Before he had touched the hilt, Legolas had sent an arrow through the loose edge of his sleeve to pin his right arm to the tree and nocked another arrow.  He felt grim satisfaction at the shock on both Mannish faces.  These Men had thought they could rob Thranduil’s people with impunity.  Legolas intended to make sure they understood just how mistaken they had been.

“You wouldn’t kill us for simple thieving!” the Man in the boat protested.

“I would kill you in an eyeblink if thought you were going to leave the Elven king’s people to starve to death,” Legolas said coldly. “But as I have stopped you from doing that, I am going to allow you to live.”  The Man in the tree was reaching cautiously to pull the arrow from his sleeve. “Leave it until I tell you otherwise!” Legolas snapped, turning to point his bow at him. The Man in the tree froze, but the Man in the boat reached for the oars. Legolas planted an arrow on the edge of the boat between the Man’s outspread fingers.  He paled and turned his face up to Legolas, who already had another arrow pointed at him.

“Didn’t you just say you were letting us go?” asked the Man in the boat uncertainly.

Legolas gave a short laugh.  “Not likely,” he snorted.  “I said I was letting you live. I am going to turn you in to one of the authorities. I am simply trying to decide if it should be the captain of the guard at Esgaroth or King Thranduil.”

Both Men turned ashen.  “You,” Legolas jerked his head at the man in the tree, “use your left hand to take the knife from your belt and drop it into the water.” With his eyes never leaving Legolas’s bow, the Man obeyed.  Legolas scanned the Man in the boat, looking for weapons but seeing none despite the fact that he thought it extremely unlikely the Man was unarmed.

He turned back to the Man in the tree.  “Pull the arrow out.” The Man complied, still watching Legolas.  “Have you any other weapons?”  The Man shook his head.  “Get back into the boat and disarm your friend.  And,” Legolas added as the Man edged back toward the boat, “know that when you have finished, I am going to search both of you, and if I find any weapon at all, I will immediately use it on you.” He felt a surge of malicious satisfaction at the fear on both the thieves’ faces.

The Man in the tree moved toward the one in the boat, looked at him apologetically, and then took a knife from a concealed sheath in his belt. He looked at Legolas.  “Drop it overboard,” Legolas ordered. The Man obeyed.  “Take off your belt and give it to your companion,” Legolas said. The Man looked at the arrow pointed at his head and once again did as he was told.  “Now, turn around and let your companion tie your hands with the belt.”  The Man turned slowly around and put his hands behind him.  His companion worked at the belt for a moment and then let it go.

Never deflecting his arrow an inch from its aim at the Men, Legolas descended into the fork of the tree, within touching distance of the prow of the boat.  “Come here,” he ordered the Man with bound hands.  The Man was beginning to move toward Legolas, when suddenly there was a whirl of motion in the boat.   The other Man grabbed the bound Man with one hand and held him in front of him like a shield. With the other hand, he snatched a dagger from the bound Man’s boot and flung it at Legolas’s chest.  For a Man, he was amazingly fast with a dagger, because although Legolas dodged, the blade still nicked his left shoulder, infuriating him no end.

Shoving the bound Man toward Legolas, the Man in the boat leapt into the waist high water and began to wade as fast as he could toward the surrounding trees.  The bound Man stumbled forward and then lost his balance and fell overboard, disappearing into the murky water where his bound hands were going to make standing again difficult. But what really made Legolas’s heart leap was that the boat lurched so violently that it tipped over, sending both bags of meat flying.

With a gasp of dismay, he ignored both Men and lunged into the water, reaching for the bags.  In the hand that still held his bow, he caught one almost before it hit the water, then waded a quick step and snatched up the other. The bag was dripping, but he was almost certain it had not been in the water long enough to ruin much of the meat.  He hoped not. If the food had been ruined, the Men would pay he vowed viciously. Only when he had stowed the food safely in the fork of the tree did he shoulder his bow and wade to where the bound Man was trying to surface.  Enjoying himself more than he liked to admit, he grabbed the Man by his hair, pulled him to his feet, and shoved him against the tree.  He stretched the Man’s bound arms through the fork in the tree, seized one of the oars that was floating nearby, threaded the oar through the bound arms, and then wedged the oar on the other side of the tree, leaving the Man hopelessly stuck.

Then he turned to start after the fleeing Man, seizing the second oar as he went. The Man was considerably shorter than Legolas and was floundering in the water, not yet having found shelter in the trees. Not that the trees would have hidden him from me anyway, Legolas thought in disgust.  He reached the Man in a few easy strides and then cocked the oar back over his shoulder and swung it at the Man’s back.  With a loud and very satisfying yelp of pain, the Man stumbled forward and fell face down into the water.

Legolas grabbed at the dazed Man, dragged him close, and ran a hand over him, searching for weapons and finding none.  “You are Orc dung!” he spat. “You are spider filth!  You are greedy enough to take food from children for money!”  The Man blinked at him, apparently not quite taking in the last insult.  Legolas shook him in disgust, then yanked off the Man’s belt and used it to bind his hands behind him.  Then he dragged him back toward the tree where the flood was perched, where he had left the other thief.

He was nearing the tree when someone startled both him and the thieves by dropping from the higher branches to one just above the head of the thief who was fastened to the tree.  Legolas gaped, unable to believe what he saw. “Beliond!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”  He glanced up to see Annael and Tinár in the trees, their bows drawn and pointed at the two thieves.

His bodyguard, too, stood with an arrow nocked in his bow.  “Looking after you, as it turns out,” he snorted, “although I confess I did not expect to be doing it when I heard about the flooding and came to see if I could help. What is the source of that blood on your shoulder?”

Legolas recalled in surprise that the dagger one of the Men had thrown had nicked his shoulder. “It is only a scratch,” he assured Beliond hastily. The last thing he needed was Beliond fussing over his injury.

Beliond gestured with his bow toward the thief whose arm Legolas still grasped.  “Who are these two?”

Legolas felt hot fury rise again when he thought of what the thieves had been doing.  He tightened his grip on the thief’s arm and jerked it, feeling a flush of satisfaction when the thief stumbled slightly.  “They were stealing food that the king sent to the Elves in this settlement.  They intended to sell it.”

Beliond looked scornfully down his nose at the two thieves.  “Do you want to take them to the king?”

The Men’s alarm flared visibly, and for a moment, Legolas pictured how much he would enjoy seeing his father wreak vengeance on these two creatures.  And then, unexpectedly, he found himself hesitating, repelled by his own reaction and even by the satisfaction he had been taking in handling the thieves roughly. He looked at Beliond, who awaited his decision, and was conscious of how rarely his keeper had ever behaved as if Legolas were in charge. So far as Beliond was usually concerned, Legolas was a warrior with far less experience than himself and for whose safety he was completely responsible, and usually that was what Legolas was. But I am not that here, he remembered. Here I am the son of the king.  He drew a deep breath.

“No,” he said. “They are Men, and Men should decide their fate.” The thief he was holding sagged slightly in relief. “Besides,” Legolas added contemptuously, “I do not want to have to put up with their company for a second longer than I must.”

Accepting Legolas’s decision without question, Beliond nodded.  He would be entirely sympathetic to any desire to avoid the company of Men if possible. “Annael and Tinár can take them to Esgaroth,” he announced. “I will stay with you.”

“Legolas should take them,” Tinár protested. “I hate going to Esgaroth.”

Beliond turned a disgusted face toward him.  “I see you are as great an idiot as ever, Tinár,” he said.  “Legolas is not taking these vermin to Esgaroth because, as I understand it from Galivion, he is Thranduil’s representative here.   Would you expect the king to take the prisoners to Esagaroth?  Do not make me climb up there and kick you down from your perch to do as you have been told.”

Tinár blinked in astonishment, and Legolas could see Annael grinning as he dropped down from the tree into the water.  He waded toward Legolas. “I will take this one. You get the one pinned to the tree, Tinár.” He took hold of the thief’s arm.  “Are you planning to go home soon, my lord?” he asked Legolas, stressing the title a little and then winking at Legolas.

Legolas smothered a smile. “I do not know. I still need to speak with Crydus about whether the Men will promise food from their fields in exchange for what Anyr might give them now.”  He left unspoken his wish to spend a little more time with Tuilinn.  “How are things in the Men’s village?”

“The sandbags were holding when we left,” Annael said, “and the river level was dropping. Crydus may be ready to speak to you now. Galivion bid us ask you to return to the village as soon as you could.”

Legolas nodded. “He would want this settled so he can get food for his people today.  I have to take some food to the children, but then I can go.”  He thought fleetingly about Tuilinn, regretting that he could not simply go back to her flet to stay for a while.  I can come back, he reminded himself. I know she is here now. The thought warmed him.

Tinár had come low enough in the tree to remove the oar that held the second thief in place.  He paused, grimaced fastidiously, and then jumped into the slowly ebbing water.  “Come, Annael,” he said resignedly. “Do not dawdle. Let us do this as quickly as we can.”

Annael gave a wry half smile at Tinár’s back. “If you have left for home before we return, we will follow as soon as we can,” he told Legolas and then started after Tinár, keeping a firm hold on his prisoner’s arm.

Legolas jumped into the fork in the tree, retrieved the two bags of dried meat, and climbed to the flet, with Beliond right behind him.  Beliond seized his arm and pulled at the torn spot on the shoulder of his tunic, assuring himself that Legolas had been honest with him about the slightness of his wound.  Legolas tugged his arm away impatiently.  “Are you happy now, Nana?” he asked.

Beliond frowned.  “Watch your mouth,” he said, with no apparent consciousness at all of Legolas as his king’s son.

Legolas shrugged and turned to their task. “We need a meal for seven small children and their caretaker,” he told Beliond, who began helping him pick through the supplies to find something that would not need to be prepared before the children could eat it.

“What was Galivion thinking to let you come here on your own?” Beliond complained, pulling out and then replacing one of the strips of dried meat.  “I have already told him what I thought about his carelessness.  For that matter, what was the king thinking in sending you on this mission without me?”

Legolas spared a moment to sympathize silently with Galivion and then ignored the rest of the grumbling.  If Beliond chose to scold Thranduil too, that would be Beliond’s worry.  Legolas only wished he could watch the confrontation – from a safe distance, of course.  “How did you get here?” he asked, interrupting his keeper’s complaints about others’ lack of good sense.

“I was camped not far away, and I came across two Men from the village who were hunting.  I asked them what they were doing, of course.” Legolas suppressed a grin. He could only imagine the manner in which Beliond had challenged the Men’s presence in the forest.  “They told me there was flooding here and that Elves were in need of aid.  They directed me to the Men’s village instead of the Elven settlement though, which I believe must have been deliberately deceptive of them.”  He frowned.  “If I ever see them again, I shall certainly speak to them about it.”

Beliond tossed a bag of dried vegetables aside.  “Children are going to have trouble with most of this unless it is stewed.  I have waybread with me. They can have that. Where are they?”

Legolas led the way to Tuilinn’s flet. She had apparently been watching for him.  “I heard some sort of commotion,” she said worriedly when the two of them dropped to the flet.  She eyed Beliond but seemed undisturbed by the arrival of an Elf she did not know.

“The thieves came back,” Legolas told her.  “This is Beliond,” he added, indicating his keeper, who had already opened his pack and was pulling out waybread.  The oddly dressed children were crowding around him, hunger overcoming any shyness they might have felt. “Beliond, this is Tuilinn.”  Beliond nodded to the maiden and continued handing out waybread.

“Were the thieves from Crydus’s village?” Tuilinn asked anxiously.

“I do not think so,” Legolas answered. “They were going to sell the food for money.” He still found that unbelievable, and the look on Tuilinn’s face showed that she shared his incredulity.

“Did you capture them, Captain?” Ródien demanded excitedly.  Legolas could see Beliond suppressing a surprised grin.

“Yes, I did,” Legolas told Ródien.  “Some other warriors are taking them to Esgaroth to be punished.”  Ródien nodded with satisfaction and then settled down to enjoy his waybread.  Legolas turned to Tuilinn. “I am sorry I cannot stay,” he apologized. “I must go back to confer with Crydus about the exchange of food.”

She smiled, but he thought she looked regretful.  “That will be good,” she said.  “You were clever to think of it.”

Legolas returned her smile.  “Perhaps we can talk later.”

“I would like that,” she said.

He looked up to find Beliond watching him shrewdly. He could feel a flush creeping up his neck.  “Are you ready?” he asked a little brusquely.  Beliond made no reply but simply gestured for Legolas to lead the way.  With a wave of farewell to the children, Legolas started back to the Men’s village, moving quickly through the treetops.

The trees eventually thinned, and he and Beliond dropped to the ground for the last bit of the trip, emerging into the village just as both Elves and Men appeared to be collapsing in exhaustion near the small tents the Men were using for shelter.  Beliond looked around with a scowl.  “They were fortunate to have Elves to help them,” he said, and Legolas could only nod his agreement.  He was beginning to think, though, that Anyr’s people might also be fortunate in their neighbors.

Legolas asked a nearby Elf where Galivion was and then went to find him, seated with Anyr and Crydus around a small fire in front of Crydus’s tent.  All three of them rose to their feet as Legolas and Beliond approached, and Legolas realized with a start that they were standing on his account.  He took the stool Crydus offered, and they all sat down again.

“Before we begin,” he said, “someone should be sent to help Tuilinn with the children.  The settlement is flooded, and she is all alone with them.”

Crydus rose and went to speak to a nearby Man, whom Legolas recognized as Ethau, the father of Astiaa and Talet.  Ethau trotted off hastily toward the Elven settlement and Crydus resumed his seat. He came straight to the point, as Legolas had come to expect the Mannish leader to do.  “My lord, the owners of our fields have agreed to trade food they grow this summer for some of the supplies that King Thranduil has sent to Anyr.”

“I do not believe we should think of this as ‘trade,’” Galivion put in hastily.  “This is simply a matter of one group of people helping another in a time of need and then those who have been helped showing their appreciation by bestowing a gift later.” The rest of them turned to look at the advisor in various degrees of surprise and puzzlement.

Suddenly, Legolas grinned.  “I believe Galivion is right.  The king regulates any trade in which his people engage, of course, but such matters of mutual assistance are usually none of his concern except as they merit his benevolent approval.” Behind him, he could hear Beliond snorting in faint derision at this dancing around about words. He smiled to himself. If Legolas knew anyone who would be more impatient than Beliond over the niceties of diplomacy, he could not think of who it would be.

Anyr still looked a little puzzled, but Crydus smiled appreciatively. “That certainly makes sense to me.  I also sent out two hunting parties this morning to try to supplement the amount of food on hand.”  For a few moments, they talked about the amount of food the Men would give to Elves at harvest time. Legolas pushed a little, thinking that Thranduil might want a better bargain than he himself would have been happy with.  From the corner of his eye, he could see Beliond watching him appraisingly.  When the bargain was concluded, Beliond and Galivion gave simultaneous nods of approval, leaving him flushed with satisfaction.

The discussion of the future having been completed, Crydus turned to more pressing concerns. His people and Anyr’s both needed to be fed that night.  He turned to Anyr.  “If you are willing to send some of your people with mine or send out hunting parties of your own, we can probably also share the meat we bring down.”

Anyr immediately brightened. “Of course.  It will be much better if we pool our resources because that way a bad day’s hunt for one group will be less likely to leave them hungry.”

Legolas could not help feeling a certain admiration as he watched the leaders of two different peoples cooperate so easily.  He only hoped his father would also approve.  A sudden idea occurred to him.  “Crydus,” he intervened, “given the uncertain state of the river, perhaps it would be better to store the meat from the hunts on the same flet with the food that the king sent.  I am sure Anyr would be happy to allow use of the space, and perhaps in turn you would supply guards for the food.  In a time of famine, there will regrettably be temptation to thievery.” In a few words, he told Crydus about the thieves he had just caught.

“Of course we will be happy to provide guards,” Crydus exclaimed.  He glanced at Anyr, who was shaking his head in bewilderment at the wickedness of the thieves, and then looked back at Legolas.  “I would be only too happy to relieve my friend Anyr of the burden of guarding the food, my lord,” he said with a wry little smile.  Legolas suppressed his own smile. Crydus was apparently well aware of the limitations his “friend” might exhibit in anticipating such matters as theft.

“Then I think we have an agreement,” Legolas said. “Were your hunters successful today?”

“They brought down some small game,” Crydus said.

“If you agree, we can cook a communal meal here tonight,” Anyr put in, rising to his feet when Crydus nodded. “The flood is too deep in our settlement to allow us to eat there, but I will send someone to fetch food from our stores. Where are your hunters?”

“Yes,” said Beliond, rising to go with Anyr. “Where are they?  I wish to speak to two of them whom I met earlier today.”

“I need you here, Beliond,” said Legolas hastily.  Beliond threw him a suspicious look but sat down again.  Crydus directed Anyr to where the hunters were skinning the game they had brought down, and the settlement leader departed. Crydus turned back to Legolas.

“I gather that the king may have some interest in the past trading of food and timber in which Anyr’s people and mine have been engaged.”  He cocked on eyebrow at Legolas.

Legolas could feel Galivion tensing next to him. “I suspect he will,” he said.  “His people maintain the safety and navigability of the river after all.” Galivion relaxed.

Crydus nodded resignedly.  “When should we expect to hear from him?”

“We will leave for home in the morning,” Galivion said, making Beliond nod approvingly.  “I do not imagine you will have to wait long after that.”

Legolas did not imagine they would either.  He was a little startled by how soon Galivion wanted to leave, but when he thought about it, he knew that his mission here was completed.  Moreover, he had to return to his patrol in three days. If he was to have any time at all with his family, he needed to get home.  For a moment, he pictured Tuilinn, holding her hair away from her face and contemplating the children. Then, regretfully, he put the picture aside, and, as he had done earlier, he reminded himself that he could come and see her again.  Moreover, he could sit with her during tonight’s meal. He happily held onto that thought as he tried to look interested while he listened to Galivion delicately extracting from Crydus news of exactly how much unauthorized trading had been going on between the settlers and the Men.

At last, Crydus called a halt to the conversation. “I believe our evening meal is waiting,” he said, and he, Legolas, Galivion, and Beliond made their way to where Elves and men were gathered around a campfire.

Legolas looked eagerly for Tuilinn, but to his dismay, he did not see her.  He supposed she was busy with the children somewhere.  I should have expected that, he thought disappointedly.  It is unseemly to be so impatient. There will be time yet. But despite the good advice he gave himself, he found Anyr and Crydus very poor substitutes for Tuilinn as companions for the meal.

Legolas and Beliond slept that night on the flet that he and Annael had been using, but Legolas was up early.  He wanted to see Tuilinn before they left.  He pulled on his shoes and was just rising when he realized that Beliond too was getting up. “You do not need to come,” he protested.

“I do,” answered Beliond and picked up his bow.  “The fact that you are an excellent representative of the king only makes it that much more important that I watch your back.”

Even as he marveled at the compliment Beliond had just given him, Legolas let out an exasperated sigh. He knew better than to argue however. “I assume you can watch it from a respectful distance,” he said a little acerbically.  Beliond smiled but made no answer.  A foot or so of water still lapped around the bottom of the trees, so Legolas led the way through the branches to Tuilinn’s flet. To his surprise, she was not there.  He had not realized the maiden’s day started quite so early.

He wondered where the children might be being cared for that day and concluded that the Men’s village was the most likely place.  As he turned to break the news to Beliond that they were going there, he caught a glimpse of Anyr seated in a nearby maple tree, watching the sun come up.  Legolas moved across the tree limbs and dropped down onto the branch next to him, with Beliond hovering a little above them.  “Mae govannen,” he said politely.

“Mae govannen, my lord.”  Anyr looked supremely peaceful, and maddening as the Elf was, Legolas could not help admiring him.  There was something very Elven about Anyr.

“Can you tell me where I might find Tuilinn this morning?” Legolas asked.

“Tuilinn?” Anyr asked vaguely.

“Yes.”  All admiration fled, and Legolas had to smother his exasperation.  “The maiden who watches the children,” he prompted.

“She went home,” Anyr said.

Legolas blinked uncertainly. “What do you mean?  She is not on her flet.”

“Her family sent for her late yesterday afternoon and said she was needed at home, so she left.”

“Is this not her home?” Legolas could feel his stomach beginning to tighten in panic.

Anyr laughed and shook his head.  “She is from somewhere north of here, I think.  She came to help when she heard about the flood. We have had many Elves come to help us, much like your friend there.”  He smiled up at Beliond, who was looking soberly at Legolas.

Legolas stared at him.  “Where north of here?”

“I do not know.”

Legolas felt an almost overwhelming desire to seize Anyr by the throat.  Beliond dropped onto the branch next to them. “Come, my lord,” he said gently. “We need to get ready to go home. Galivion will be waiting for us.” He touched Legolas’s arm lightly.  “There is nothing you can do here,” he said softly.

Even in his fury, Legolas noticed that Beliond had addressed him as ‘my lord,’ something he very rarely did.  He is reminding you of who you are, he told himself in despair, and you would do well to remember it too.  Legolas glared at his keeper for a moment, burning with unreasonable anger that was only made worse when he saw what looked like pity on Beliond’s face.  He realized that Anyr was looking at him curiously and drew a deep breath.

“I bid you farewell, Anyr,” he said as evenly as he could.

“Farewell,” said Anyr cheerfully and went back to watching the sky.

*******

AN: I thought readers might find it useful to see the time line of the story so far:

Day 1.  Legolas arrives home in the evening

Day 2.  Eilian sees healer and gets permission to ride. Rides with Legolas. Rain in the night leads to flooding that knocks down the food flet at Anyr’s settlement. Eilian gets permission to become betrothed to Celuwen if her parents agree.

Day 3.  Eilian leaves to visit Celuwen and arrives with rabbits. Thranduil gets request from Anyr.  Legolas helps Galivion to gather food from the palace’s storage.

Day 4.  Legolas arrives at settlement around noon. Eilian tells Celuwen about her father intercepting her letters. He and she bond in the evening. Legolas walks with Tuilinn.

Day 5.  River floods again.  Eilian starts home.  Legolas rescues Tuilinn and the children and catches the thieves. Beliond arrives.  Business is concluded.

Day 6.  Legolas starts home.