Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter for me.

AN:  I make use of a bit of lore from “Laws and Customs among the Eldar” in this chapter: “And the Eldar deemed that the dealing of death, even when lawful or under necessity, diminished the power of healing….”

*******

5. I Can Do It

Eilian lay awake, gazing up at the dark ceiling and listening to Celuwen’s quiet breathing. What am I going to do? he had wondered, and now, after hours of  chasing the thought around and around in his head, he knew the answer. There was nothing he could do, and therefore he would do nothing. In the morning, he would bid good-bye to Celuwen and watch her ride off to her parents’ settlement, hoping that he was wrong and that no fresh dangers lurked in the woods.

Like a hurt warrior who cannot resist poking at his wound, he pictured the scene of her leaving and swallowed the choking fear that she would never return from this trip. In his mind, he saw her disappearing into the woods, with her face turned back to him, glimmering pale in the dawn light.

And along with the fear, he suddenly realized that another emotion was stirring in his heart. With a horrified start, he recognized it. I am jealous! he thought in dismay, jealous because she can ride off and be free while I must stay here under Adar’s and Ithilden’s thumbs.

“What is it?” asked a sleepy voice, and he turned his head to see Celuwen roll onto her side to face him with her brow creased in worry. She put a hand out and rested it on his chest. “Is something the matter?”

She knew him so well, and with the tie of bonding between him, she seemed to feel his emotions and sometimes even read his thoughts. He could not tell her this, he thought unhappily. She would think him small and ungenerous. With an almost painful effort, he pushed the ugly emotion as far away from his thoughts as he could. Then he turned toward her and reached to draw her close, as much so that she would not be able to see his face as to caress and comfort her. “I am simply worried,” he said, kissing her hair. His heart contracted painfully. It was the first time since they had married that he had deliberately hidden a thought from her.

She lay still for a moment and then pulled away from him so that their faces lay inches apart on his pillow. “Are you sure?” she asked, touching his face. She sounded distant somehow, and he realized that she must sense that something was amiss.

“Yes.” He rolled onto his back again so that he would not have to meet her eyes. For a while, they lay quietly.

“Eilian, I have been thinking, and I wanted to tell you that I am sorry.”

“For what?” He looked at her in surprise.

“For complaining about the hard time I am having learning to live in the palace while ignoring how hard this month has been for you too.  I know that your adar is still being difficult and that you do not like sitting at a desk all day. I know you have been doing your best for my sake. I was selfish to complain.”

He found himself looking back at the ceiling. Perhaps he had not hidden his thoughts from her as well as he thought he had. “I love you, Celuwen,” he said simply.

She was silent for a second, and then she slid across the short distance that separated them and put her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her, and they lay together without speaking, as he waited for the morning to come and take her away from him.

***

Legolas finished his sweep of the patrol’s camp, checking on every member to make sure that no one else had been hurt in that night’s battle. They seemed well enough, he thought, anxiously running his mind over what he had seen. They were settling down to sleep, as the heat of battle drained from them and their bodies recognized how exhausted they were not only from pulling a bow and swinging a sword, but also from the strain of fear and constant vigilance. Not to mention the shadow, of course. He was reasonably certain that if any of them was going to break from the pressure, it would not be tonight.

He walked back to the camp’s center, where Sórion was just pulling a blanket up over the wounded Análas. Análas would sleep near the fire tonight, where he could be kept warm and would have a ring of his fellow warriors to protect him if unexpected trouble should come upon them. Already, his eyes were vacant and his breathing deep, as he fell under the influence of the sleeping draught Sórion had given him.

“How is he?” Legolas asked, dropping to his haunches next to his captain. He had seen the Orc slash at Análas but had not been close enough to help.

“He will be fine in a day or two,” Sórion answered.

Legolas watched as he carefully replaced the patrol’s healing supplies in their bag. “You are very good at dealing with the wounded.”

Sórion gave a crooked smile without looking up from his task. “I used to think that I wanted to be a healer. I even trained at it for a while. But then I saw the wounded coming home, and I realized that what I really should be doing was driving the enemy away so that no one would be hurt in the first place.”

Legolas considered that for a moment. He had never wanted to be anything other than a warrior. Indeed, as the king’s son, he had never thought of himself as having any other choice. He wondered what it would be like to be Sórion and know that every battle in which he fought lessened his ability to do what he most wanted and heal the injured. If Sórion still had the skill that Legolas saw him exercise almost daily, then his gift must have been great indeed when he started. He felt a sudden stab of anger. He had lived under the shadow and seen its effects his whole life, but he was still occasionally surprised by the far-reaching nature of its destructiveness.

Oblivious to Legolas’s reaction, Sórion closed the healing kit and went on, “A messenger came with a dispatch while we were out hunting Orcs. Ithilden wants us to find out whatever we can about the Men we saw signs of five days ago.”

Legolas pulled his attention back to the present and frowned. “That will not be easy after all this time.” The patrol was well southeast of the point where they had seen the Men’s tracks, and enough time had passed that some of those tracks would have been obliterated by weather and the normal life of the forest.

Sórion glanced at him sharply. “I judged it unwise to divide the patrol, and the Men had left our territory,” he said. Legolas had to force himself not to react. He should have known that the captain might take his comment as critical of Sórion’s cautious commands. Sórion surely must have heard some of the grumbling from troops who were accustomed to Eilian’s more daring leadership, and Legolas had never made any secret of his admiration for his brother.

He shrugged, trying to look casual. “Our first business must surely be with the Orcs.” And in truth, he could see Sórion’s point of view. Judging by what the scouts had said, the Men had not seemed to present an immediate threat, but the Orcs had been looking for prey. Still, he did not like having Men venture into his father’s realm while they knew so little about them. Their presence made him uneasy.

Sórion paused and then nodded, apparently accepting Legolas’s loyalty. “Get a few hours sleep, and then I want you to take about half a dozen others and see what you can find.”

Legolas felt a surge of excitement. In his experience, lieutenants frequently led small groups of warriors on missions away from their patrol, but this was the first time that Sórion had trusted him to do it. He had begun to wonder if the captain doubted his ability to direct a group of warriors by himself. He paused for a second, knowing what he wanted to say but worried that Sórion would once again see it as a criticism. I need to be able to speak my mind, he decided. If I cannot, then I will be far less useful. “I think we will have to be ready to follow them out of our own territory,” he said firmly. “They were very close to our northwest boundary when we saw the signs of them.”

Sórion sighed. “Yes. I think you will. Take no chances though, Legolas.” He smiled wryly. “I would not like to have to explain to the king how I let you be killed.”

Suddenly, another reason for Sórion’s reluctance to send him off on his own occurred to Legolas. He grinned. “I would not like to have you have to make that explanation either.”

Sórion laughed.

“It may take us several days to learn anything,” Legolas said.

Sórion nodded. “I expect it will. I am sure you will have no trouble finding us when you are finished.”

“We will be back as soon as we have satisfied ourselves about the Men,” Legolas promised and went off to snatch what sleep he could.

***

“The king wants us to stand watch for him?” Félas asked. “Surely you told him that we have no time to spare, Celuwen.”

Celuwen looked across the table at the Elf who had led this settlement from the time her family first moved there just before she had come of age. She had a sudden vivid memory of him finding her in the woods that first week, looking for a good place to set rabbit snares. He had shown her half a dozen promising sites. Her heart sank a little. You are the king’s representative, she admonished herself firmly. Remember that.

“Lord Thranduil respects the knowledge that those living here have of the forest. He knows you have much to tell him,” she said. “I believe he had in mind that you would tell him of any oddities that you noted in the course of your own affairs. He can take action against dangers only if he knows about them.”

“What action?” her father asked from his place by her side. He had acted as Félas’s second for years now, and she had necessarily met with both of them. At least he sat next to me instead of Félas, she thought wryly.

“That would depend on what you reported,” she said.

Her father grimaced. “He evidently expects us to defend ourselves though, so I cannot conceive of what help he might intend to give.”

“He wants you to be able to defend yourselves if you have to,” she corrected. “He proposes to provide you with training and a head guard. Surely you would welcome those things.”

“Perhaps,” said Félas noncommittally. “Your adar and I will have to talk about this with one another and with our neighbors too. I am not sure that everyone would like the idea of arming themselves. We are a pretty peaceful lot.” He smiled at her, and she could not help smiling back.

“The king truly is concerned about your safety,” she said. “I have heard him talk about it.”

Félas rose, signaling that the meeting was at an end. “Allow us time to think a little. And in the meantime, enjoy your visit with your family. I am sure that Sólith and Isiwen are happy to have you home again.”

“Indeed we are,” her father said, looking at her affectionately. “Her mother is roasting a duck for evening meal, so we had better not be late for it.”

Together, they walked out of the open door of the communal gathering house, and then Félas bid them good evening and departed on the narrow path to the right, while Celuwen and her father strolled along the path that led straight ahead, toward their cottage.

“We were surprised to see you home so soon, Celuwen,” Sólith commented. “Glad, but surprised. We did not expect a visit from you for another month or two yet.”

“I suggested this plan to the king, Adar, and I was only too happy to take the excuse of talking to Félas about it to come here and see you and Naneth.” To her surprised pleasure, the minute she had announced that the plan was her own, both her father and Félas had become more open to it. She took her father’s arm. “I have missed you and Naneth and the life here.”

She could feel his arm tense under her hand. “Are you unhappy in the palace, daughter? Does he not treat you well?”

She frowned. “Eilian treats me with all the love and respect for which any wife could wish,” she said a little sharply. “I feel blessed beyond measure to be married to him.”

Her father’s jaw tightened, but to her relief, he said no more. She did not want to quarrel with her father, but she had resolved not to let him speak ill of Eilian if she could help it. The odor of roast fowl greeted them as they entered the tiny cottage, and her mother turned from where she was just removing the duck from the spit. “There you are! I was beginning to think I would have to eat this by myself.”

“Let me help you, Naneth.” Celuwen moved to help slide the bird off the hot spit while her mother held it.

“I can do it,” Isiwen chided her. “You are a guest now. Sit down.”

Celuwen hesitated, torn between obeying and helping in the way she had done from the time she had been small. Then she stepped forward and reached for the large fork her mother was using to spear the duck. “Nonsense. Let me make myself useful. Besides, I could never be a guest here.”

“Now that sounds like my daughter,” Sólith approved. “And she is right too. This is her home after all.” Celuwen felt a second’s warmth at the idea of being home and then realized that her home now lay elsewhere. And I am glad, she thought, a little guiltily. Truly I am.

The meal passed pleasantly enough, with her mother asking about her and Eilian’s new apartments and her father telling her the small news of the settlement. A neighbor’s cottage had needed a new roof. A young couple had decided to have a baby and had left the settlement to live near the king’s stronghold. “I hope that one day we will be secure enough that people can raise their children here,” Sólith said.

“I hope so too,” Celuwen agreed and thought suddenly of how wonderful it would be if she and Eilian could raise elfings here. But perhaps that would not be wise either, she thought, with a sideways glance at her father.

When the meal had ended, she ignored her mother’s protests and helped to wash the dishes. Then she declared her intention of going to bed. Her parents would soon retire too, she knew. No one who lived in a settlement wasted candles or lamp oil in staying up much past dark.

“Go,” Isiwen told her with a smile. “You are probably tired, although I must say you look much stronger than you did the last time I saw you, my child. I think I will have to send my thanks to Eilian for that.”

Celuwen laughed and kissed her mother’s cheek, catching a glimpse of her father’s grimace from the corner of her eye. “Good night, Naneth. Good night, Adar.” She kissed him too and went into the tiny bedchamber that had been hers from late girlhood.

The window was open, and for a second, she stood with her eyes closed, simply breathing in the night smell of the forest near her parents’ home. How she had missed this! She sighed and then began to undress. She hung her gown on a peg, dropped her chemise and stockings onto the small pile of laundry in the basket, and then opened a drawer that should have contained her nightdress only to find it empty.

She had put the garment in the laundry basket that morning, she realized, and then forgotten to wash her clothes. How silly of her! She must be drunk on the forest air, she thought in amusement. She would have to do laundry the next day. She pulled open another drawer, searching for a worn-out gown she might have left behind when she gathered her things to go with Eilian. A ragged gown that had been too pleasantly soft from wear to part with lay pushed in a corner of the bottom drawer.

When she lifted the garment out of the drawer, something fell from its folds and landed on the floor with a clatter. For a second, she stood, holding the gown pressed against her breasts and staring at the thing that lay there, glittering faintly in the moonlight. Then she crouched and picked it up.

The polished stone on its leather thong lay cool in her hand, reminding her of the day that Eilian had given it to her. It had been her thirty-fifth begetting day, the last begetting day she had spent playing with Eilian and Gelmir. They had waded in the river and then thrown knives in a contest that she had won. And when it was time to go home, Eilian had shyly given her the pierced stone that he had found and polished and tied to the length of leather. She had worn it occasionally and then put it away, and the three of them had begun to grow up. She did not think she had seen the necklace in years. Her mother must have found it somewhere and put it in the drawer.

Sudden longing for Eilian nearly stopped her breath. She pressed her mouth closed to keep from moaning and then slipped the loop of leather over her head, so that the stone nestled between her breasts. She pulled the gown on and climbed into the narrow bed, where she lay hugging herself for what seemed like hours, trying to draw comfort from the song of the trees. Why did she have to choose? she thought and then immediately dismissed the question as childish. In reality, there was no choice for her anyway.

***

“Does that hurt?” Belówen asked, prodding the fading red mark on Eilian’s hip.

“No.” Not much anyway, Eilian thought. And really, what did healers expect when they poked at sore spots?

Belówen raised one eyebrow skeptically. “It is best to be truthful, my lord. If you go back to active duty too soon, you are likely to find yourself flat on your back in bed again.”

Eilian met his gaze levelly. “Are you suggesting that I am lying?” he asked coolly.

The healer sighed. “I would not be so bold.” He made a face. “Very well. I will tell Ithilden that I am releasing you for active duty.”

Eilian could not suppress a triumphant smile. “Good. When?”

Belówen laughed. “You may go and tell him yourself right now if you like. I will speak to him later.”

Eilian slid off the examining table, fastening his leggings as he did so and starting for the door. “Thank you,” he called back over his shoulder, but he was out of the infirmary before the healer had time to answer. He strode toward Ithilden’s office, with his mind working busily over what he would need to do this afternoon if he wanted to put his plans into effect by morning. He could not shake the notion that he needed to act now, that there was no time to waste.

Calith looked up when he entered and read his face with no trouble at all. “I take it you have had good news,” he smiled.

“Indeed,” Eilian agreed, not at all offended that Calith looked almost as glad as Eilian felt to know that he would no longer be working in this office. “Is Ithilden here?”

But Ithilden had come to the door of his office, smiling broadly. “How did things go at the infirmary?” he asked, although he plainly already knew the answer.

“Belówen has released me for active duty. I thought I would go over to the Home Guard headquarters and get some things organized.”

“The paperwork here must really have been wearing on you,” Ithilden laughed. Eilian supposed that his brother had a right to be startled by his enthusiasm for a posting he had never even pretended to like. “Go,” Ithilden said. “Elviondel has been managing things since their previous captain left, but I think you will find he is glad to see you. He looked a bit harassed when I saw him yesterday.”

Still preoccupied, Eilian nodded and left an amused looking Ithilden to go back outside and follow the path to the Home Guard headquarters. It was nearly time for the day patrols to report in and the night patrols to be sent out, so he expected to find Elviondel there and was not disappointed. Elviondel’s relief at seeing Eilian was evident. “I am only a lieutenant again?” he asked with a grin. “I think I can live with that.”

Eilian laughed. He liked planning the action of others and leading them, but not everyone wanted the responsibility. So far as Eilian was concerned, if he could shove all of the patrol’s paperwork off onto Elviondel, the division of labor would be eminently satisfactory. “I have been reading your reports, of course, but tell me the things I need to know that have not been in them.”

The two of them sat down together in one corner of the room, and Elviondel talked quietly about the patrol, telling its new captain about incidents he had not seen fit to put in his reports, about who got along – or did not get along – with whom, about concerns that had arisen in the last few days that had not yet come to anything. Eilian listened intently, trying to hear both what Elviondel was saying and what he was not saying. As they spoke, those on night duty gradually filtered in, sending interested glances Eilian’s way, and by the time they had finished, the day patrols were beginning to return from their assignments. Eilian saw his bodyguard, Maltanaur, enter and raise his eyebrows in their direction. Maltanaur had been serving in the Home Guard as he waited for Eilian to take his place as its captain.

Eilian stood and the warriors’ conversations gradually fell quiet. He grinned at them. “As you may have guessed, the healers have finally decided that I am well enough to deal with you lot. Or perhaps he has decided that you have been bleeding all over his infirmary too much and has decided to punish you by sending me your way.”

As he had expected, they all laughed. He was experienced enough at captaining patrols that he did not anticipate having any trouble with this group, although they tended to be of a different temperament than the more daring warriors he usually led in the Southern Patrol. “Elviondel and I are going to share command for another week or so while I take stock of things,” Eilian went on, conscious of the surprised look on Elviondel’s face. “He will send those on night duty on their way now, while I hear the reports of the day patrols. I look forward to working with you all.”

With that, he seated himself at the small table near the door to hear from each pair of warriors who had been guarding the woods that day.  He could hear Elviondel making the night assignments, but for the most part, he concentrated on what each returning warrior had to tell him about the state of the woods. “Did you find anything unusual?” he asked one after another. “Did you sense any danger?” Each of them said he had not.

Maltanaur was the last to speak to him, and by that time the night patrols had all left too, so Eilian, Maltanaur, and Elviondel were alone. “I am glad to see you back,” Maltanaur said. “How much did you have to lie to Belówen to get him to allow it?”

Eilian grinned. “None at all.” Maltanaur laughed softly, his disbelief plain.

Eilian turned to Elviondel. “I want to work out the duty rosters and anything else we need as much as we can for the next week or so.  I have decided that Maltanaur and I are going to be carrying out a special assignment during that time.”

Elviondel hid his dismay well. “Of course. May I ask what the assignment is?”

“We are going to check on the safety of one of the settlements,” Eilian told him.  Maltanaur let out a startled snort and Eilian smiled blandly at him. “You do not have to stay, Maltanaur. Elviondel and I can attend to this and you can meet me in the morning.”

“I will stay here,” Maltanaur said flatly. “There is something I wish to speak to you about.”

Eilian laughed outright. “I will wager there is,” he said cheerfully and then sat down with Elviondel to go over plans for the patrol for the next week, while Maltanaur leaned against the wall and watched him. Finally, Eilian was satisfied that everything he could do ahead of time was done.

Elviondel sighed slightly. “I look forward to your return, Captain.”

Eilian nodded. “This should take no more than a week and might take less.” Elviondel saluted and left the building, and Eilian turned to his keeper and raised an eyebrow.

“Have you told Ithilden what you intend to do?” Maltanaur asked, not trying to disguise his disapproval.

“I am the captain of this patrol. I do not have to clear every decision I make with the troop commander.”

Maltanaur made a disgusted noise. “I take it you have missed being in trouble.”

Eilian pulled himself erect. “That settlement is within the territory of the Home Guard. It is my duty to see to its safety.”

Maltanaur rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “What time do you want to leave tomorrow?”

“Dawn.”

Maltanaur nodded and left the building without another word. Eilian followed him out. From somewhere, his instincts were urging him to hurry, and he was elated that at last he would be able to do something about his sense of impending danger.