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Paths Taken  by daw the minstrel

I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien, but they are his, not mine. I gain nothing other than the enriched imaginative life I assume he expected me to gain.

Thank you to Nilmandra for beta reading this.

*******

3.  Brothers

Legolas trotted down the path to Annael’s cottage and then skirted around it to the small woods in back.  He had not been here in a month because his free time had been given over to working in the infirmary, and the prospect of playing with his friends again left him almost giddy.  He could hear hammering before he got all the way around the cottage, and as soon as he entered the clearing behind it, he could see Turgon and Annael at work, high in a beech tree.

“Come up,” Annael called, spotting him immediately, and Legolas slipped lightly up the tree, coming to a halt on a branch that formed part of the base to which his friends were nailing the flet.  He eyed the construction appraisingly.  It was considerably smaller than the flets that some of Thranduil’s people lived on during the summer.  Those often held small houses, while this was a simple platform measuring perhaps eight feet on a side. Annael and Turgon were in the process of nailing boards to a framework that was wedged among the branches.

“Where did you get the boards?” Legolas asked.

“My ada got them for us,” Annael answered.  Legolas noted that today Annael was calling his father ‘ada.’  Turgon and Legolas both used the more grown-up ‘adar’ now, but Annael still slipped back and forth between the two terms.  Legolas did not think that meant that Annael was a baby. It was just that his parents were more like an ada and a nana than an adar and a naneth.  Legolas thought of them that way, and even Turgon had never commented on the matter.

“He got them from Thréthiel,” Annael went on. “She is going to live with her daughter, so she is pulling down her cottage so the forest can grow there again.  My ada is helping her.”

Legolas nodded.  He knew who Thréthiel was.  Her husband had been one of his brother Eilian’s warriors in the south, but he had been killed.  The thought of Eilian’s dead warrior made Legolas’s stomach hurt, so he determinedly pushed the memory out of his head.

“My ada helped us build the frame too,” Annael added.

“And a good thing that was,” Turgon said practically. “When we tried to put one in the tree, it fell out.”  Legolas laughed but decided he would not tell his father about the ill-fated frame.

“We brought a hammer for you today,” Annael said, pointing to where the tool lay.  “We need to nail these boards on well, and then my ada will look at it tonight when he gets home to see if we can sleep on it.”  Deeply contented to be with his friends, Legolas picked up the hammer and began pounding nails into boards that already seemed to have a good many nails in them.

“Will you be able to sleep out with us?” Turgon asked, banging a bent nail to flatten it into the surface of the flet.

“Not yet,” Legolas admitted.  He brightened. “I am going camping with Ithilden though.”

The other two turned to look at him.  “That will be fun,” Annael said, a little doubtfully.

Turgon snorted.  “Ithilden is much too bossy.  He will not let you do anything fun at all.”

“We are going to hunt,” Legolas said defensively.  “Ithilden is a very good hunter, and I will probably kill at least two deer. And we will sleep outside just as you are going to do.”

“When you went camping with your adar, you had guards with you, and your adar would not let you out of his sight,” Turgon pointed out.  “Ithilden will be even worse because he gives orders all the time.”

“We are not taking any guards,” Legolas protested.  Turgon raised a skeptical eyebrow but said nothing.  Legolas was immediately anxious.  Were they taking guards?  He could not imagine Ithilden needing guards.

“Ithilden is a good archer,” Annael said. “If you hunt with him, you will be sure to be successful.” Legolas shot his friend a grateful look.

He had to admit to himself that he was becoming a little worried, though.  He admired Ithilden, who was, after all, in charge of all of their father’s warriors.  His oldest brother always seemed to know what to do and always seemed to succeed in doing whatever he attempted.  Legolas wanted Ithilden’s approval more than he would ever have admitted to anyone else.  He wanted Ithilden to see him as someone who would be a good warrior some day, and indeed had a private fantasy that Ithilden was counting the days until Legolas was old enough to join the Realm’s forces.  But it was only too true that Ithilden gave orders, and he did not hesitate to reprimand Legolas when he failed to follow them.  Legolas did not like it when Thranduil scolded him, but he accepted his father’s right to do it.  He could not help resenting it a little, however, when Ithilden scolded him.

The back door of Annael’s cottage opened, and his mother came out.  “Would you three like some cold cider?” she called.  “You have been working so hard, you must be warm.”

Legolas put his hammer down immediately.  He had missed Annael’s mother in the last month too. She was much the nicest female that he knew.  “We are coming, Nana!” Annael said, dropping his own hammer.  The three of them scrambled down the tree and ran toward her.

She smiled at Legolas.  “It is good to see you, Legolas.”  He blushed, ducked his head, and happily followed Annael and Turgon into the cottage.

***

The following day, Ithilden found his father and Legolas both in the dining room when he arrived rather late for evening meal.  Deliberately taking his time and husbanding his news, he sat down and served himself some fish and bread.  “I have a report from the armorer, Adar,” he said, cutting a bite of fish.

Thranduil raised an impatient eyebrow. “And?”

Ithilden chewed and swallowed, prolonging the moment.  “He says that as far as he can tell the grooved swords are as strong as those we have been using.”  He hoped he was keeping the note of triumph from his voice, but he could not be sure.

Thranduil sat back in his chair and narrowed his eyes.  “As far as he can tell?”

“He has run every test he can think of.”

“I am not sure I believe it,” Thranduil said.

“The armorer has run every test he can think of,” Ithilden repeated exasperatedly. Surely his father was not going to be so unreasonable!

Thranduil pursed his lips. “Very well,” he finally said with obvious reluctance.  “I will authorize payment for the next shipment.”

“The Men have left already,” Ithilden told him. “Someone will have to go to Dale with the payment.”

Thranduil nodded grimly. “I will see to it.”

Ithilden could feel himself beginning to smile and swiftly looked down at his plate to hide his face.  He did not really take satisfaction in his father being wrong, but he took a great deal in being right himself.  His warriors would be better armed because he had been willing to stand up to Thranduil’s unreasoned prejudices.  And he knew he could do it again if he had to.

There was a moment’s silence and then Thranduil turned to Legolas. “What did you do today, Legolas?” he asked.  He was evidently determined to let the matter drop and Ithilden was willing enough to go along with him.  He had had his moment of victory and that was enough.

“We finished the flet,” Legolas said.  “Annael and Turgon are sleeping on it tonight.”  He looked at Thranduil. “You can see if from the back door of Annael’s cottage,” he said plaintively.  “Please can I sleep on it too, Adar?”

Thranduil put down his fork.  “Legolas, on at least two occasions recently, you have not been where you were supposed to be at night. You cannot expect me to allow you to sleep outside with no adult present until you have shown me that you can be trusted to stay where you are told to.”

Legolas poked at his fish with his fork and scowled at his plate but wisely said nothing.

“We are leaving on our camping trip in the morning anyway,” Ithilden comforted him, “so you could not have slept on the flet tonight in any case.”

A sudden thought seemed to strike Legolas, and he looked up.  “Are we taking guards with us tomorrow?”

“No,” Ithilden said.  Once he had asked Legolas to go with him, he had considered taking guards, but he had decided against it.

Legolas smiled. “I told Turgon and Annael we would not have guards,” he said in satisfaction.

Thranduil turned to Ithilden. “You are not taking guards?”  He sounded surprised.

“No. We are only going three leagues west and are staying near the Elf Path, because I want Deler to be able to reach me if he has to.  And I have asked that the Home Guard patrols check on us when they go that way twice a day.”

Thranduil made an exasperated noise. “You insist that two guards accompany me when I go for my afternoon ride.”

Ithilden raised an eyebrow. “You are the king.  Your safety is crucial to the Realm.”

Thranduil grimaced.  “And your safety and Legolas’s are crucial to me.”

Ithilden glanced across the table at a worried looking Legolas. “We will be fine, Adar,” he said.  “This is supposed to be time away for both Legolas and me, remember?”

Thranduil hesitated and then conceded.  “When you return, we will discuss the matter of my guards again.”

“Whenever you like,” Ithilden grinned at him.  He had no more intention of calling off the guards he had set on his father than he had of taking guards on this camping trip.  Legolas was beaming at him, and to his little brother’s evident delight, Ithilden winked at him.

At the meal’s completion, they rose to move to the sitting room.  “Legolas, you need to go and do your lessons,” Thranduil said as they started toward the door.

“But I do not have lessons tomorrow,” Legolas protested in astonished outrage, and Ithilden felt some sympathy for him.

“Do them now and you will not have to do them when you return from the trip,” Thranduil insisted. “You can join your brother and me when you have finished.”

Legolas opened his mouth to protest, looked at his father, and evidently thought better of it.  “None of my friends has as many lessons as I do,” he grumbled, as he started toward the library instead of the sitting room.

“You are lucky,” Thranduil said, unperturbed, and then ignored the reproachful look Legolas threw him.

Ithilden accepted the cup of wine his father offered him and sat down when his father waved him toward a chair. “I wanted to talk to you about Legolas,” Thranduil began without preface.

Ithilden nodded, suddenly seeing why his father had insisted on Legolas’s lessons being done tonight.

Thranduil paused, as if trying to find words for what he had to say.  “Your brother is at an age when obedience does not come easily,” he finally said.

Ithilden could not help laughing. “I had noticed that, Adar.”

Thranduil smiled wryly.  “I am pointing this out to you because you will have to watch him on this trip, particularly since you are not taking guards and you will be the only one with him.  He may do exactly as you tell him, but he may decide that he is wiser than you are and do something foolish.”

Ithilden smiled.  “I can command obedience from a troop of Wood-elf warriors, Adar. I think I can exact it from one elfling.”

Thranduil blinked and then laughed.  “I have always looked forward to Eilian becoming a parent,” he said, “preferably to sons who will jump off the bridge over the Forest River to see if they can fly.  But I begin to think you may offer me some amusement too, iôn-nín.”

Ithilden could not help laughing in response.  He had not been home when Eilian had jumped off the bridge, but he had heard about it from the guard who had been in front of the Great Doors and had jumped into the river after him. “I will make sure Legolas understands what I expect of him,” he assured his father.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow.  “I believe I have made sure that Legolas understands what I expect of him too.  Nonetheless I intend to check if he is in his bed tonight and has not slipped off to sleep in a flet.”

Ithilden laughed again.  He was not particularly worried.  Legolas was so obviously grateful that Ithilden was taking him on this trip with him that Ithilden was sure he would behave.  He sat back and sipped his wine.  This had been a good day.

***

Ithilden folded the extra tunic and put it in his pack and then tucked his emergency healing kit in next to it.  A knock sounded at the door, and at his invitation, a servant entered.  “A messenger came from the infirmary with these for you, my lord,” he said.

“Good,” said Ithilden, taking the four small packets of spider venom antidote that the servant handed to him and placing them in his pack.  Four packets was an excessive number, but he was taking no chances, given that Legolas was going along on this trip.  In the past weeks, the shortage of the antidote had been so acute that he had asked those who were safe at home to take what they had from their emergency healing kits and give it to the warriors who were driving away the recent influx of spiders.  The shortage had eased now, however, thanks to the efforts of the healers.

He picked up his pack and his bow and went to the sitting room, where he found Thranduil and Legolas waiting for him.  Thranduil was seated but Legolas was on his feet and pacing.  “There you are!” he cried. “I have been ready forever.”

Ithilden grinned at him. “Are you sure you have everything?”

“Yes. Adar checked.”  Legolas bounced on his toes, obviously eager to be off.

“Then perhaps we should go,” Ithilden said and laughed when Legolas immediately bounded toward the door.

“One moment,” said Thranduil, rising.  Legolas turned his head to look at his father but remained standing with his hand on the doorknob.  “Come and let me bid you goodbye.”  Looking exasperated, Legolas obeyed. “I will miss you,” Thranduil said, enfolding him in his arms and kissing the top of his head. “Be good, and do what Ithilden tells you.”  Then, with what seemed to Ithilden to be an effort, Thranduil loosened his hold and stayed where he was as Legolas hastened to the door again.

“Enjoy your time in the woods,” Thranduil told Ithilden, embracing him too.  “Your naneth would be delighted by this trip.”

Ithilden smiled. His Wood-elf mother would have been horrified to know how long it had been since he had spent more than a few hours among the trees.  He turned to Legolas. “Shall we?”

Legolas yanked the door open and trotted down the hallway toward the Great Doors.  With a last small bow to their father, Ithilden followed.  Legolas jumped off the last three steps in front of the palace and ran across the bridge, with Ithilden following at a more sedate pace. He planned to hike along the path at an easy pace today and reach the campsite he had chosen by late afternoon.  Legolas would soon settle down. He was as energetic as any child his age, but the walk would be a long one for him.

They had not been in the forest for more than half an hour before he realized how much he had missed it.  He noticed first the piercing sweetness of birdsong, but then, beneath that, he heard the welcoming rustle of trees in full summer leaf and inhaled the earthy smell of soil, and rotting wood, and living things.  He could feel himself relaxing, as his blood began to flow in harmony with the green world around him.

Ithilden knew that all Wood-elves were tied to the forest, but he had also long felt that, as Thranduil’s heir, he was even more deeply connected to it.  It was a simple fact that he shared some of his father’s magic, for, like Thranduil, he could seal the Great Doors and open them again, which not even Eilian could do.  Now the trees were murmuring to him, telling him of their joy at the life that flowed through them and through him and the young one who was with him.

Legolas had slowed and fallen into step next to him.  “Can we hunt for deer as soon as we get there?”

“By ourselves, we would not be able to carry a deer all the way back from the campsite. We will hunt for smaller game.”

Legolas stopped dead in his distress. “But I want to hunt deer!  Annael has killed a deer and I have not!”  He looked stricken, and Ithilden found himself wanting to please the child if he could.

“We might be able to get the Home Guard warriors to help us carry a deer home,” he said slowly.

“Yes!” Legolas’s face lit up, and Ithilden could not help smiling at his joy.   They settled into companionable silence until Ithilden called a halt for food and a rest. The day was growing warm, and he did not want Legolas to become too tired.  They sat in the shade of an oak that was just off the path, drinking from their water skins and eating bits of the bread and cheese that they had brought with them.

“I am glad we did not bring guards,” Legolas said. “For a minute, I was afraid Adar would make us, but I suppose he knew you did not need them. He treats me like a baby, but he knows you are a warrior.”

Ithilden could not help smiling at his brother’s casually expressed admiration.  “Adar knows you are not a baby. He just does not think you are quite grown up yet.”

Legolas picked up a stick and began poking at the ground.  “I wish he would do more things with me like Annael’s ada does with him, but he is always so busy.  And anyway, he is not like Annael’s ada.  He mostly just tells me what to do.”

Ithilden grimaced. He could remember feeling that way about Thranduil too, although when he was Legolas’s age, their mother had still been alive, and she had been the one from whom he had most often sought understanding.  “Adar has been teaching you how to hunt,” he reminded his brother.

“But he never has time to go,” Legolas answered.  He turned to Ithilden. “Can we hunt deer tonight?  They will be sure to be active with the moon so full.”

Ithilden was startled. “Absolutely not!” he exclaimed.  “We will stay in our camp at night. The woods are much too dangerous for you to be roaming around in them after dark.”

“But--,” Legolas began.

“No,” Ithilden said firmly.  “Do not argue with me.”

Legolas flung the stick away hard.  “You are as bad as Adar sometimes, Ithilden!”

“Do you want to go on this trip or not?”  Ithilden had decided that now was the time to lay down the rules.  He had never allowed a warrior to question an order, and he was certainly not going to allow his little brother to do it.

“Yes,” said Legolas sullenly.

“Then you must do what I tell you and not argue.”

Legolas bit his lip but said nothing.

After a moment, Ithilden got to his feet.  “Come along,” he said. “We have some distance to go yet. There is a stream by the campsite I have in mind.  If we make good time, we may be able catch some fish for our evening meal.”

Legolas stood up and followed him, but it was some time before his peevishness eased.  Like Ithilden, he seemed to draw comfort from the trees.  The sun was beginning to drop into the west when Ithilden led him into the clearing he planned to use as their campsite.  Ithilden looked around in satisfaction.  The spot was just as he had remembered it from a camping trip taken years ago.  A stream bubbled along not far away, and they were within hailing distance of the path, meaning the site was safe and the Home Guard warriors would be able to find them easily.  Legolas dropped his pack and looked around too.

“Go and gather wood while I clear a spot for the fire,” Ithilden ordered. Legolas wandered toward the stream. “Legolas!” Ithilden said sharply.  “Did you hear me?”

“I will do it in a minute,” Legolas answered, sounding annoyed. “I am hot and want some cold water first.”

Ithilden frowned but started on his own task and was relieved when he heard Legolas move off to search the area near the campsite for firewood.  Legolas had been slow to obey, but he had finally done so.

They had no luck fishing and so settled for more of the food they had brought with them. Legolas was obviously tired, and Ithilden attributed some of his irritability to that.  They unrolled their blankets as soon as it began to grow dark.

Ithilden lay on his back watching the stars open one by one until they lay spread across the night in a thick array that dazzled him.  How could he have stayed away for so long? he wondered.

“I love the stars,” said Legolas suddenly, surprising Ithilden, who could have sworn that his brother would fall asleep as soon as he lay down.  And indeed, Legolas’s voice was dreamy even now and almost before he had finished speaking, his breath had grown slow and even.

Ithilden smiled to himself. He had done right to bring Legolas along.  His little brother needed to be out at night at least as much as Ithilden did.  A night under the stars would settle him, and they would be easier together on the morrow.  Their father really should spend more time with Legolas doing things like this.  Ithilden would see if he could find a way to tell Thranduil that when they got home.

 





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