Haldir sat high up in a tree. Clinging to the branch for support, he desperately tried to calm his breathing and his racing heart. By the Belain! He needed to calm down. Calm down and focus. Focus on the situation at hand and find a solution. Any solution. And no one from Doriath could die in the process. He could not let that happen. He would not let that happen. Angaril had already reminded him more than once why they could not let that happen.

Calmly the ellon kept reciting the litany of names and the known futures of some of those for whom they were responsible. One would defend King Dior’s wounded body during the second kinslaying and die beside him. Another would accompany the young child Elwing’s entourage protecting her in her desperate escape from Doriath so she could live to be Elrond’s mother. Two would fight side by side with the surviving lords of Gondolin at the third kinslaying. Two would be kings one day. One was destined to be Lord of Lothlórien.

Six times Haldir banged his forehead against the bole of tree, scrabbling at the bark with reddened calloused fingers in his panic and frustration. With each struggling breath he cursed those responsible: King Thingol, Chieftain Damrod, Mablung the haughty, the proud Sindarin trainees, Taurion his idiot son. When he ran out of curse words in the three elven languages with which he was most comfortable, he resorted to the tongues of dwarves and then of orcs in search of just the right turn of phrase for his anger and frustration and fear and guilt.

Finally he turned and leaned back against the trunk, his knees tucked up so he could rest his bruised forehead on them. How the hell had this happened?

Briefly Haldir reviewed the events of the last few months in his mind. It was Damrod’s fault. No, wait, Thingol was the one who ordered the trainees to live among the Galadhrim so he was to blame first. Then it was Damrod. Well, Damrod and Taurion.

XXXXX

Ever since the Sindar had arrived in Gladhol Gelaidh, Taurion had been mocking and criticizing them, both in private and to their faces. He never missed an opportunity to condemn them for their short-comings and to call attention to all that they did not know. Every struggle with stringing and then shooting a Lórien longbow, every clumsy move with a sword, every mishap when trying to run through the canopies, set Taurion off on a long tirade.

After every practice, Haldir pulled his son aside along with increasing numbers of others among the Galadhrim to explain the importance of diplomacy, tolerance, and patience. Likewise, before every breakfast, Haldir took Mablung and the trainees from Doriath aside and tried to explain to them the importance of graciousness to hosts, tolerance of cultural differences, and patience -both with the Galadhrim and with themselves.

In spite of this, Mablung and the trainees seemed to find something to complain about or speak of with disdain at every turn. The tables were too low, the telain were too high, there were too few bridges between telain, there were not enough chairs, the bows were too long and too hard to string, making the spiral fletching for the arrows was difficult and arduous (what was wrong with their way of doing it?), the food was too bland, the ellith were too standoffish.  And the list went on…

Unfortunately, after a few weeks, some ellith were not standoffish enough, much to the chagrin of their kin. And even more unfortunate was the fact that Rúmil’s youngest daughter was among them.

“It is not that I necessarily dislike the Sindar…” Rúmil griped after dinner on one of many occasions for griping. “But much as we respected them in the Second and Third Ages, hearing grand tales of the majesty and power of Doriath way back when…I have very little respect for the folk of those about whom those tales were told. I do not want my daughter taking one of those lazy fools for a lover let alone marrying one! It is one thing to have to dwell near them and work side-by-side with them, but I will not take one into my family as a son!”

Haldir and his Lórien brethren did not bother trying to sooth Rúmil’s ire for they each had struggled enough with allowing their daughters to marry even among the Galadhrim. Silent, deadly accidents would have befallen any Sinda who had vied for the hand of one of their eligible daughters and Ferevellon had said as much. Unfortunately they were in Doriath now, surrounded by Sindar, and many of the Lórien ellyn had young daughters and all had granddaughters who would grow up one day and wish to marry.

XXXXX

“Giant spiders,” Galadin the wise would remind all of the Galadhrim warriors – especially those with unmarried daughters – whenever they passed in their endeavors or when he noticed any of them grumbling or scowling in annoyance at the Sindar.

“Wargs killing warriors, ellith, and children.”

“Orcs eating our kin.”

“Burning trees.”

It was not subtle, but the reminders seemed to work far better at calming irritated warriors and angry fathers than Haldir’s constant lectures.

“My Captain, you tell them what they must do and you are most correct. I merely am reminding them of why they must do it and the consequences of our home in Doriath failing,” Galadin had once explained. “Together, we just might be able to settle them and make them tolerate the Sindar. They will not respect them, for respect must be earned, but they will eventually realize they must be tolerant. Perhaps a few of them marrying into the Galadhrim would be a good thing.” He paused a moment then clarified, “Granted, I do not want one of them marrying a daughter of my house either, but I do understand the necessity of learning to live with them.”

XXXXX

Unfortunately, the need for tolerance did not seem to have reached their chieftain.

“Haldir, how much longer must they dwell among us?” Damrod had demanded from the big chair he seldom used in the big hall he used only slightly more often than the chair.

With a longsuffering sigh, Haldir gave his standard reply to the time-worn question, “They will be here until they are finished learning the skills we have to teach them at this time.”

“And how long will that be, Captain?”

“As long as it takes for them to learn.”

“Our people were not this slow to comprehend your instruction. Why did Thingol send us fools for instruction? Was it to mock us and our ways?”

Haldir took a deep breath, surprised at the venom dripping from his father-in-law’s tones. “He did not send us fools, my Lord. He sent us those who wished to learn from us and those who he chose to learn from us.”

“And they are fools. Fools and idiots who take from us what they wish and mock and disparage what they do not even attempt to try to understand! They learn our language. They learn our superior skills, and yet they scoff at our way of life and deride our people.” Damrod nodded in contempt. “Oh yes. I have heard them myself and I have seen how they treat our ellith and the elder edair of the clan and their vile disregard for perhaps the greatest son of the wood to have graced our kind – young Taurion – and their rudeness and disrespect for him and even for you. And yet you continue to teach them! How dare you! What kind of ellon are you, for you behave like no son of the Galadhrim that I have ever known!”

He smashed his hand down on the arm of his chair. “They speak ill of my grandson – your first born son – and they dishonor your people and disrespect you behind your back. Yes, I have seen it as have many others! Every turn of the stars, Taurion gives me reports on all of the offensive things that they have said and done. And that fool – oh, I have not the words to describe his foulness properly – Mablung, who leads them? I am beyond weary of his haughtiness. There is much talk among our folk of leaving Doriath and finding a home where we can live among our trees in peace with no tribute due to anyone else. Some have already begun preparations to leave.”

Haldir had heard rumors of the Galadhrim wanting to leave, but he thought they were just that: rumors. He had not realized just how bad the situation had become. He started to speak, trying to reason with Damrod, but the chieftain cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“Do not attempt to defend them with any talk of their serving King Thingol and how we should suffer them for the sake of peace and allegiance with our liege lord. I will hear none of it!”

Calling on his full wisdom and his many ennin of knowledge of the temper of his wife’s adar, Haldir stood still and silent, his head bowed in respect, waiting of the waves of violent emotion to roll away. “I cannot send them away yet,” he finally said, meeting Damrod’s angry glare with his own calm gaze. “My lord and chieftain, you are very wise and you understand the gravity of the situation. You know what they have learned already and what they have yet to learn. Truly, what would you have me do?”

Damrod looked away for a time, running his fingers through his unbraided hair then rubbing his chin as he sat back in his great chair. At long last he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. “Teach them to march, Captain, and march them far, far away from here. Take them north beyond their precious holes in the ground they call Menegroth. Let them put into practice the wood lore they have learned from us, and perhaps, after many turns of the stars living off what the forest will provide and communing with the trees, they will learn some respect and appreciation for our ways and our culture.”

Quickly working through the logistics in his mind, Haldir replied, “Fair enough.”

“I want them gone tomorrow, Haldir, so I can try to get our people back under control and prevent any of the Galadhrim from leaving Doriath - for now.”

Taking a deep worried breath, Haldir slowly exhaled with raised eyebrows and a shake of his head. “I will do my best to have the trainees from Doriath and my warriors ready to depart by then.”

“You may not take all of my warriors, Haldir. You may only take a few. But most need to remain here with their families to keep order and show our folk that the people of Doriath do not dictate to us and do not control us. We rule ourselves.”

“Yes, my lord,” Haldir replied with a low bow, wondering who would be best to take and who would be best to leave behind, especially considering the matters of calm and peace for the folk of Gladhol Gelaidh now seemed to be of equal importance with keeping Thingol happy.

XXXXX

So Haldir had marched them north, beyond Menegroth, across the river and all the way to the Northern part of the Forest of Neldoreth. The warriors accompanying him included his brethren of Lórien and their sons and sons-in-law and his own sons and sons-in-law as well as Galadin and a few sons of his line.

The first six turns of the stars had been a forced march intended to put as much distance as possible between Gladhol Gelaidh and the trainees. He also hoped it would serve the purpose of making everyone tired so there might be a little less spark in the volatile tempers. Haldir and the other warriors with small children all were feeling it by the time he called the halt in the middle of the Neldoreth to make camp and allow everyone their first real rest.

Unfortunately the march failed to have the desired effect on Taurion. Nonchalantly, he wandered over to the clearing where the ellyn of Doriath had gathered a little apart from the Galadhrim.

“Mablung, those caves have made your folk soft,” he sniffed with disdain. “One would have thought that living among the trees for the last few months would have strengthened you enough to be able to endure such a simple stroll through the woods. Obviously that was not the case.”

Fairly bristling, Mablung rose from his seat on the ground near a fire where meat was roasting. “And I would have thought that being the son of one as well-travelled as your adar would have taught you some common courtesy when addressing your elders and betters. Apparently spending so much time communing with trees instead of talking to people has greatly hindered your social skills. It is no wonder your folk hide up in the trees. They are too inept to interact with their own kind.”

Calmly Galadin strode up and placed himself squarely between the two before the red-faced Taurion’s clenched fists could rise to cause further problems.

“Friend Mablung, I suggest you return to your seat and finish preparing yourself and your ellyn for the meal. Friend Taurion, your adar has asked me to determine who will take the first watch with me. Since you are feeling so little fatigue, I think you would be a fine choice. Your cousin will bring us our meals.” Amiably but firmly, Galadin took Taurion’s upper arm and drew him away. When Taurion glared at him, Galadin met him with a steely gaze of his own which the younger ellon knew better than to defy.

As they walked away, Mablung growled, “Insolent whelp.”

Taurion turned so quickly, that Galadin lost his grip. Haldir watched from across the camp as his son lunged for Mablung and knocked him to the ground. The two rolled about punching each other, narrowly avoiding the fire.

“This has been a long time coming. Let them fight it out,” someone ordered.

The Galadhrim raced over immediately, but the ellyn of Doriath sufficiently outnumbered them and held them back.

Struggling against the four ellyn restraining him, Haldir looked over horrified to discover that the speaker was none other than Prince Celeborn. Ever did his lord trust him and rely on his wisdom in matters of weapons and training. How dare he interfere with Haldir’s command now!

But then again, Celeborn was not Haldir’s lord right now. He was merely one lord among many in Doriath though he was the only royalty present in the group from Doriath…which meant Haldir had to obey him - even if he were a mere little princeling in Haldir’s eyes. Haldir had tried for so long to instill respect for the leaders of Doriath in his people, and it was only proper that he set the example now. But then again, what would that do to his ability to command the warriors if he capitulated to a mere trainee? Technically speaking, Celeborn was under his command right now. What was he to do?

Fortunately, the two battling on the ground saved Haldir from the power struggle with his future liege. Mablung got the upper hand, pinning Taurion to the ground. Panting hard, Taurion went limp in obvious surrender. Mablung spat on him, then rose to turn away and proclaim his victory when Taurion twisted and kicked, delivering him a most foul blow which left Mablung cursing and rolling on the ground, curled around his pain.

Celeborn nodded and his ellyn released the Galadhrim. Haldir immediately went to his bruised and bloody son and pinned him to a tree with one hand gripping his son’s tunic and his other forearm across the ellon’s throat. “Boy,” he growled, “if you ever attack another elf like that again without orders to do so, then so help me, I will deal you the same blow that you gave Mablung. I am ashamed of you and your behavior these last several months and I am weary of your attitude! Now go to the stream and clean up and then go take the watch with Galadin.”

Turning away from his purple-faced, gasping son, he called over his shoulder, “Rúmil, Orophin, accompany him and do whatever you need to do to see that he stays out of further trouble.”

Abruptly, he released Taurion who fell to his hands and knees struggling to breathe. Grimly, Rúmil and Orophin took his place looming over the lad. Angrily Haldir strode over to the assembled Doriathrim who huddled around Mablung’s shuddering form. Using his most commanding fatherly tone, he demanded, “Prince Celeborn, you will join me over here now.”

Celeborn hesitated for a moment, then joined Haldir a few paces away from everyone else.

In a low authoritative voice, Haldir said, “My lord, I realize you are royalty and outrank every one of us here. However, in matters of warrior training, King Thingol, your esteemed uncle has placed me in command. Tensions are running very high among our respective folk right now and the best way to calm things is for each of us to respect the other. I have done all that I can to set the example for my folk, and it is time that you show your true worth and set the example for yours. The king and queen in their great wisdom have seen the potential value of warriors in the defense of Doriath and they have entrusted me with the task of training more warriors. You must see this value as well or you would not be here receiving training.”

Celeborn nodded, raising a hand to forestall him, “I agree with you, Captain Haldir, but I do not apologize for my actions just now. I commanded my ellyn to allow the fight to go on for good reason. If those two had not released their anger and met their strife physically, then it would have continued to come out in other ways and a full brawl might well have broken out among our respective peoples with more than just two ellyn being injured.”

He paused a moment, placing a hand on Haldir’s shoulder and moving a little closer, dropping his voice for only Haldir to hear. “I apologize for the way Mablung and my folk have behaved since our arrival in Gladhol Gelaidh. It was rude and most uncalled for. I also pity Mablung, but he deserved what happened to him just now just as your son deserved the blows he received. They saved us the trouble of punching them both ourselves.”

Celeborn laughed slightly and Haldir could not help but grin in agreement.  “Rest assured, my friend, that when my uncle’s chief guardian recovers enough to endure it, then I will publically reprimand him for his actions and his attitude. Again, Haldir, I apologize for overstepping your authority in this matter, and I will not do it again unless I feel I have very strong cause to do so. I have a great amount of respect for you as do my uncles and my adar and I can tell you from experience that their respect is very difficult to earn. Thank you for sharing your knowledge with us. I hope that moving forward from here we can better prove ourselves worthy of your time and perhaps eventually earn your respect as well.”

Haldir stared dumfounded, seeing for the first time in his few years and many months in Doriath, the great lord of elves that the silver-haired ellon before him would one day become. Taking a step back, Haldir saluted and gave a small bow. “Thank you, Prince Celeborn, for everything.”

XXXXX

They remained at the camp for more than a week, adding to the rudimentary map Orophin had begun as well as teaching the building of telain and creating a patrol outpost for future use. True to his word, Celeborn rebuked Mablung for all to hear and silent but grudging cooperation followed for a time. Upon breaking camp, the warriors spent the next few weeks teaching those of Doriath how to scout each new area, looking for suitable defensive and offensive positions and identifying more locations for telain which could serve as outposts for patrols and mustering points for troops.

Taurion served on many patrols – more than the other warriors – and always took the first watch upon setting up a new camp. Haldir had found that the most effective way to silence the ellon and his offensive attitude was to remove him from the situation. Unfortunately, Haldir was running out of ways to silence Mablung and his minions who seemed to be just as enthusiastic as Taurion at finding things to criticize.

“If it were not for the fact that we have effectively taught them not only to survive but to thrive in and defend the forest,” Rúmil commented at one point to Haldir, Orophin, and Galadin, “I would suggest we blindfold Taurion and Mablung and leave them out here somewhere and let them find their own ways back home. Unfortunately, I think they would eventually find us again and the peace would be too short-lived for us to bother with the trouble of losing them and then having to endure them being found again.”

Orophin nodded in grim agreement. “You know, Haldir, I used to think you were unbearable at times, but your son is far worse over a longer period of time than you ever were.”

Haldir glared at his brother with great irritation.

“I think there might be a compliment buried in there somewhere, Captain,” Galadin observed thoughtfully. “If you look hard enough.”

Everyone laughed at Haldir’s scowl until he threatened to reward them with duty alongside Mablung and/or Taurion. He made a mental note to keep that punishment in mind for future reference for he had seldom seen warriors snap to and immediately find other duties to occupy themselves more readily.

XXXXX

A few leagues from the northern border of the Forest of Neldoreth, Prince Celeborn made a suggestion which would serve to ease tensions for everyone for a few turns of the stars. Haldir immediately jumped at the opportunity to separate the two groups and gain some peace for everyone. And so it was that the trainees from Doriath departed for a week to scout ahead to the edge of the forest, build some telain, and map the terrain.

“Perhaps once we realize for ourselves what we have learned,” Prince Celeborn had said, “my people will be more gracious to you and grateful for the wisdom you have imparted. Likewise, your warriors may take some pride in our demonstration of the lessons we have learned from them.”

Haldir, his brethren from Lórien, and Galadin could find no fault with this plan, so they agreed to it, then sat back and enjoyed the bliss of at last being alone to better commune with the trees of this beautiful forest.

XXXXX

After five turns of the stars exploring and getting to know the trees as only the Galadhrim could, Haldir began to grow uneasy. He gave the feeling some time to go away, but when it only grew worse, he called his warriors to him.

“I think we need to go check on our friends,” he said.

Taurion snorted derisively at the term, but Haldir silenced him with a menacing glare.

“You feel it, too, then,” Orophin observed warily. “I thought I was the only one.”

After a short chorus of other comments about sensing something amiss as well, Haldir ordered the ellyn go out in search of their comrades from Doriath. They departed the camp at a jog and soon were running, with all of them now sensing that something was indeed wrong, very wrong.

At the forest’s edge, they found a series of partially constructed telain high up in the trees. A little farther away, they discovered the remains of a hastily abandoned camp. A short distance from there, they saw blood, spent arrows, a broken long bow, and two daggers partially buried in the ground as if they had been thrown. The warriors immediately scaled the trees, desperately searching for some sign of where to look next.

“Wargs!” Galadin’s eldest great-grandson called out, pointing to the northeast. “Six dead ones and more running away from here, skirting the edge of the forest.”

“Spiders!” Orophin’s middle son cried pointing to the northwest. “I count twelve dead ones and eight, perhaps ten more fled through the trees.”

“Spiders came through here in the last few hours!” Handir called from his position several trees away to the east. “They each were hauling something large, judging from the depth of the marks in the bark. I am seeing drops of red blood as well as black on the trunks of the trees.”

“Adar!” Taurion screamed some distance away as he hastily slid down a tree, dropping the last fifteen feet to the ground. He swore loudly and yelled again.

It took a few minutes for Haldir to reach his son for the ellon had managed to cover an impressive distance in a very short time, flying through the trees in his search. Haldir arrived to find his son crouching, shakily singing a song of healing to the still form lying prostrate on the ground before him.

Kneeling down, the captain brushed a few leaves from the hair of the unconscious elf. “Who is it?” he asked still unable to discern the identity, but Taurion shook his head as he continued singing.

Taurion’s voice grew stronger as he obviously gained more control of himself and moved his trembling hands from the closing puncture wound on the ellon’s back to the bite marks on the bloody lower legs.

Haldir swore, realizing the elf had been attacked by both a spider and a warg. “I do not understand,” he said as he gently grasped the shoulder of the unconscious ellon. “Wargs and spiders never ever fight side-by-side. What happened here, my friend? What happened?”

Galadin arrived just then, kneeling opposite of Haldir. With the greatest of care, he turned the ellon’s head enough to make out the features. Cursing softly, he gently caressed the bruised face as if the one before him were his own child, whispering, “Captain, it is Mablung’s eldest son.”

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