Chapter Four: The unexpected

"The queen!" someone shouted.

Immediately, the call echoed across the Green, along with calls of Legolas and his cousins' names. Those greetings were just as quickly drowned out by loud cheers, as people abandoned their dancing, drinking and contests to press towards the point where the eastern Path spilled onto the Green. Brethil, Anastor, Noruil, Aewen, Maidhien and Eirienil jumped up from a tight, little group sitting on a blanket in their typical place near the broad beech. They waved to Legolas and his cousins and began weaving through the crowds.

Legolas waved back at them and fleetingly thought that it was a bit odd being one of the people they were running to greet rather than being with them himself.

He looked towards the Gates, expecting to see his father emerge through them as he always did when Lindomiel returned from any sort of travel. Thranduil always seemed to know exactly when she would return. Tonight, he was not there. Legolas continued watching the stronghold even as his friends grasped at his horse's headstall and his cloak, practically pulling him down to the ground. Maidhien was subjecting Galithil to the same treatment. Only Eirienil was kind enough to stand back and allow them all a bit of room.

"Was it amazing?" she asked as Legolas slid from his horse. Her tone was distinctly envious.

"Did you enjoy yourselves?" Brethil asked, eyes wide and voice much louder than necessary, even given the rowdy crowd. He was standing almost toe-to-toe with Legolas. There was no need to shout.

"Was it dirty and smelly?" Noruil asked eagerly, his nose wrinkled in anticipation of an affirmative answer.

"They were in a palace, not the sewers," Aewen countered, glaring at Noruil.

Legolas's brow raised involuntarily. How did Aewen even know the word sewer, much less what one was?

"Was the King of Dale's palace as marvelous as our Hall?" she added.

"How was Fengel?" Eirienil asked.

Legolas could not help but grin at them as they crowded around him. "It was a great deal of fun," he answered. "Fengel was much older, but exactly as I remember him as far as his kindness. His palace was indeed very impressive, especially for something built by men. It was much like our Hall." He turned to Noruil. "And, no, it was neither dirty nor smelly."

Galithil ruined that dignified denial with a loud snort that caused Maidhien to giggle and Noruil to smirk at Legolas.

"And the men?" Anastor asked, gravely. "How did they treat you?"

Legolas turned a concerned gaze on his friend. "They were all very courteous," he replied. Then he took a step towards Anastor, so the rest of the populace would not hear him. "Not all men are like the one that you met, Anastor. Most are good people. The men of Dale certainly are."

Anastor said nothing in response to that. He only continued to look at Legolas silently.

"The men did not really warrant concern," Berior interjected with an overly casual tone and a mischievous look. "The women on the other hand--they were the true source of danger. They were...well, it could only be described as overly interested in elves."

Aewen's eyebrows shot up and her head swung around from Berior to Legolas fast enough to make Legolas's breath catch and heart beat, as if he had done something wrong. She took a step to stand directly in front of him and grasped his upper arm to pull him to face her.

Caught completely at unawares, Legolas mutely shook his head in response to her expectant glare, while trying to formulate a more articulate response.

Berior's shoulders shook with repressed laughter.

He had some nerve! Of all of them, he was the most overwhelmed by the attention of the women during that feast. Legolas turned his head to look at Galithil, expecting his support. While Aewen had no real right to be angry with him--even if he had paid attention to one of the women, which he had not--Maidhien had every right to be upset with Galithil if she thought he had.

His cousin's face was indeed contorting into scowl until Maidhien rolled her eyes. She shook her head and whispered something to Galithil that earned her a kiss on the cheek. Then Galithil grinned sidelong at Legolas.

Legolas shot him a warning look, but to no avail.

"It was admittedly quite difficult to fend the women off," Galithil agreed, speaking directly to Aewen. "Of course, I am betrothed, and so had to refuse their attentions. Lucky for Legolas and Berior that they are not. Some of the women were quite fair. I am sure they enjoyed themselves."

Legolas's eyes flew open even wider than they already were and a shocked noise escaped him. "Women!" he repeated firmly. "Not ellyth. Honestly! The two of you should try not to behave foolishly for all the world to see."

That made all his friends laugh outright. It also seemed to mollify Aewen. Her grasp on his arm loosened.

"I never did hear why that one woman slapped you, Legolas," Galithil said, struggling to appear serious. "What did you do to her?"

Aewen's fingers dug into his arm again and his friends' laughter quieted to astonished stares.

"You orc!" Legolas exclaimed, pulling away from Aewen and advancing on his cousin. "You know perfectly well that I did nothing. No one slapped me...."

"I thought I heard Tureden saying that incident had something to do with kissing..." Berior interrupted.

"What?" Aewen blurted loudly.

From somewhere behind Legolas, Tureden loosed a disapproving growl. "Do not involve me in this idiocy," he ordered.

"Oh come, Aewen," Maidhien intervened, arms crossed. "You need a brother to teach you what teasing is. The women in Dale likely did fancy elves, for what little good it did them. But it is perfectly obvious that Berior found their attention the most difficult to manage, since he felt the need to throw the first punch on that topic here. And the only reason Legolas is still the target in this battle is because you keep pushing him back out on the field with the way you are reacting. If you care for him, stop it." Then, she lowered her voice so that only Aewen--and Legolas, since he was right next to her--could hear. "You might also try remembering that you have kissed nearly every warrior in the Training Program at least once. Legolas is not betrothed, nor is he courting anyone in particular. He can kiss anyone he pleases."

Scowling severely, Aewen faced off with Maidhien and drew sharp breath.

Legolas cut her off. "I did not kiss anyone in Dale or anywhere else, nor did I suggest that I should and you all know it." He directed himself to his cousins, but he glanced about himself to be certain that none of the surrounding elves had heard any part of this exchange. Most were busy shouting questions to Lindomiel and listening to her answers. They did not appear to be paying attention to them. Legolas relaxed slightly, but still pivoted a finger from Galithil to Berior. "You two had best govern your tongues. I am certain that with only a little effort I could think of something each of you did that could be cast in an unfavorable light. Perhaps I could relate those stories in adar's presence."

Galithil grinned at Legolas. "You are, as usual, very easy to tease, gwador nin."

Legolas loosed a scoffing laugh and turned his back to him. "Gwador nin," he muttered under his breath. "Only when you are in imminent danger do you pull that out."

Galithil gave him a light shove, which Legolas ignored just as he ignored his cousins. He turned his attention to the crowd in general, scanning it for his father and intending to help his mother field some of the questions being shouted at them. He found himself face to face with Galuon, an unusually solidly built elf, who was his mother's chief baker.

"And how did you find the food in Dale, my lords," he asked.

"Very different, but quite acceptable," Legolas replied, making certain he did not sound too enthusiastic. He knew from long expereince that Galuon suffered from easily wounded pride. "Nonetheless, I do not think I could have survived another day without your seed cakes. I hope there are some left in the kitchen. I intend to look for them tonight."

Galuon smiled, obviously quite pleased with that response. "I made some this evening for tomorrow's breakfast," he said. "They are probably still warm."

"Wonderful!" Legolas replied, sincerely delighted. He did love Galuon's seed cakes.

"And the ale, my lords?" Galion asked, coming up alongside Galuon. "Did you try that?" His eyes were bright with mirth.

"Only a mouthful, out of curiosity. It was dreadful. Mercifully, we knew it would be. The queen was kind enough to warn us about it," Legolas replied. "Unfortunately, the wine was not much better."

Galion laughed and nodded at that.

"What about contests?" Dollion called, bow in hand. He stood amongst several warriors that had emerged from the Oak. "Did you partake in any contests against the men?"

Legolas, Galithil and Berior all grinned at him. "We did," Legolas answered.

Before he could say more, a cheer arose amongst the warriors. "Where is all the gold you won, then? Surely the Woodland Realm must now be wealthy beyond the dreams of dwarves and dragons!" Dollion shouted, with a wink at Legolas.

Legolas laughed and shook his head.

The surrounding crowd began to give way and Legolas automatically turned in the direction it was parting, expecting to finally see his father. He was surprised that the gap in the crowd led not in the direction of the stronghold, but instead to the Green. His father had been waiting for them on the Green? Sure enough, Thranduil promptly appeared, striding towards them swiftly across the thick grass, followed by Hallion, Engwe, Golwon, Isteth and Arthiel.

The moment he had his family in view, Thranduil inspected each of the travelers in turn before settling his gaze on Lindomiel and holding out his hand to her. She she took several steps towards him to take it. Normally, once assured that all his returning family was present and safe, Thranduil focused exclusively on the queen. Tonight, however, while he kissed her hand and drew her against him to kiss her cheek, Thranduil's attention was divided between her and his children.

Legolas and his cousins had all dropped to one knee at the king's approach.

This was certainly not the first time Legolas had knelt to his father, but tonight, after coming home from representing the king in foreign lands, it felt different somehow. More meaningful...weighty, maybe? He did not have long to think about it.

"Come here, ionnath nin," Thranduil ordered, waving them over to him. His voice was much more emotional than he normally allowed it to sound while in the public eye.

"Were you waiting on the Green for us, my lord," Lindomiel asked as Legolas and his cousins each accepted an overly strong embrace from Thranduil. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Thranduil loosed a short laugh, turning his gaze playfully towards the stars. "My wife and sons all travel together to Dale--a journey that kept them away from me for well over a week--and she wonders at the fact that I could not keep myself in the stronghold when news reached me that they were nearly home."

"I missed you also, Thranduil," she whispered into his ear before placing a kiss of her own on his cheek.

One arm around Lindomiel's waist, the other guiding Legolas, Galithil and Berior, he turned them in the direction of the Gates.

"I suppose we will have to do without treats and presents from Dale this visit," Anastor said softly, as he followed the king's family to the stronghold. He was trying to sound stoic--to respect the fact that the lack of the gifts they normally received upon Celonhael's return from any foreign journey was not as great a burden to bear as the reason for their absence.

Even so, Legolas looked over his shoulder at him coolly.

"If I had any gold, I certainly would not waste it on presents for you, Anastor," Galithil answered back.

Anastor made a face at him and glanced at Legolas. Legolas had been defending him more vocally of late, but this time, he said nothing. Anastor should not have drawn attention to Berior's loss.

"We do have candy," Berior said with a flat tone. He paused to pull a small sack from where it was tied to his pack. Without saying anything else, he opened it and distributed small, brown squares to each of their friends.

"What is this?" Noruil asked excitedly, raising the square to his nose to smell it.

"It is called chocolate," Berior replied. "It comes all the way from Harad. Which is in the far south. Farther south than Gondor," he added in response to Noruil's blank stare. "Eat it slowly, because that is all there is."

"We know. We know," Noruil replied, nibbling a corner off his square. "Your adar always says that."

Legolas looked silently at Berior as his friends took small bites of the chocolate and immediately began exclaiming about it. Galithil was looking at Berior somberly too.

"A maid brought it to me as we were leaving," Berior whispered, his gaze on the ground as they resumed walking towards the stronghold. "Fengel apparently ordered some of the chocolate from the iced cream to be set aside for us to take back. The maid asked for my adar to give it to him. She said she always brought him sweets on his last day in Dale and when she was a child she accompanied her mother when she did it. I took them from her and told her to ask for me from now on."

Frowning, Legolas laid a hand on Berior's shoulder and patted it lightly.

*~*~*

"And you should have seen the man juggling!" Berior said excitedly. "Those swords..."

He said something more, but in a low whisper after Thranduil heard what sounded very much like a fist connecting violently with an arm or shoulder. He could not see exactly what had happened. Berior was too thoroughly surrounded by his cousins and friends. Still, Thranduil caught the word 'flaming' and he would have sworn he also heard something about 'swallowing.' He smiled to himself. They had an eye-full on their trip then. That was good. He had visited mannish towns several times before seeing that particular stunt. He would never understand how beings as fragile as men could treat their mortality so cavalierly.

"Have you heard from Dolgailon yet?" Lindomiel asked, a little too loudly.

His smile broadened at her attempt to shield the children's conversation. "I have not," he answered, intentionally saying nothing about the patrols' report that Dolgailon would return tonight. He preferred to listen to Berior's stories. Unfortunately, they seemed to have moved on from discussing the little festival. Pity. He would have liked to hear more about the puppet show that caused Galithil to giggle so uncontrollably. He would have to do a bit of digging on that topic. And warn Tureden and Colloth to be on the look out for flaming knives and swords.

"Tell us more about the food," Noruil demanded, jumping down the steps of the bridge two at a time ahead of Legolas, while still half facing him. "It could not have all been this good," he said, touching his pocket where he stashed three-quarters of the chocolate Berior gave him, wrapped in a handkerchief.

A clean handkerchief, Thranduil hoped. Legolas, Galithil and Berior talked over one another as they described the various dishes they sampled in Dale. Thranduil was familiar enough with mannish food to recognize most of what they mentioned.

"What were the orange things called, Legolas?" Galithil interrupted himself to ask.

"Orange food?" Aewen exclaimed.

"They were carrots, I think. Is that right nana?"

All eyes turned to Lindomiel, where she walked arm-in-arm with Thranduil.

She nodded, not bothering an attempt to voice an answer. She would have been cut off if she had tried. Galithil immediately returned to regaling everyone with the marvels of carrots.

Thranduil could not help but smile again, strongly reminded of another conversation he had with Lindomiel before they were married. "Will the Woodland Realm now be cultivating carrots as we do potatoes?" he asked.

Legolas's gaze immediately snapped to his father. "Could we? It would not be difficult. We saw them growing. Sadron had some in his family plot. They do not take very much space. They are roots, like potatoes, but they grow straight down and you do not even have to dig them. You just pull them up by the green plant part. They really are good." He turned to Lindomiel. "Do you think there is room in the kitchen garden for some, nana. We will plant them."

His cousins all nodded.

Lindomiel frowned.

That made Thranduil laugh out loud. "I obtained potatoes for you, my lady," he said quietly. "Carrots for our children, especially if they are willing to do the work for them, seems a fair trade."

Lindomiel feigned a put-upon expression. "And Galuon is still complaining about the potatoes--the presence of foreign foods in his kitchen. This will be worse. Carrots are far more exotic in appearance than potatoes. He might never recover." Then she smiled at them. "I will ask Fengel to send us some carrot seeds next spring."

"Thank you, nana," Legolas replied, grinning broadly. His cousins echoed him.

Thranduil enjoyed the sight of his son so thoroughly happy. Berior too. He had hoped this trip to Dale would distract them both from their respective griefs and it appeared to have done so, even if temporarily.

"Can we stay in your room tonight, Legolas?" Brethil asked as they passed through the Gates. Anastor and Noruil nodded in agreement with that suggestion. "So you can finish telling us about Dale?"

Aewen and Maidhien immediately looked at Eirienil, the same question in their eyes. Eirienil, in turn, looked at her parents, who looked to Thranduil.

Thranduil glanced at Legolas, Galithil and Berior to confirm they wanted the company. They obviously did. "Assuming you have already obtained your own parents' permission, you may wait for us in the sitting room," Thranduil said, directing himself to his son's friends. "I want to speak to Legolas and his cousins in the Hall for a moment, and then they will join you."

A chorus of 'thank you's' echoed in the antechamber before Eirienil led the way into the family quarters.

"Noruil. Anastor," Thranduil called.

They turned to him with wide, innocent eyes that caused Thranduil to fight not to roll his own.

"The chocolate you have in your pockets will melt if it gets too warm. And you will never get the stain it makes out of whatever cloth it contacts. I recommend you put that chocolate somewhere more cool," he warned them.

Noruil and Anastor both put a hand over their pockets, but they nodded agreeably.

"You have had chocolate, adar?" Legolas asked as Thranduil signaled to Golwon's wife, Isteth, when she passed him.

"I have," he confirmed.

Isteth stopped and turned to face him fully. "My lord?"

Thranduil leaned closer to her. "You are in charge of making sure that there is still wine left for me when I arrive in my own sitting room," he whispered to her with a nod towards Anastor and Noruil, who were disappearing through the door to the family quarters.

"Yes, my lord," she said.

Thranduil smiled his thanks to her and then gestured for those remaining with him--his council, minus Dolgailon, to precede him into the Hall. "Given everyone's fine humor, I trust that your journey was uneventful?" he asked. "Nothing unexpected?"

"Uneventful?" Tureden repeated, his tone dry. "Largely speaking. But nothing unexpected? Of course the unexpected happened. Dale is a mannish town, after all."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at Tureden and then turned to Lindomiel with a look that demanded an explanation.

She shrugged as she walked down the center aisle of the Hall, towards the meeting table at the foot of the dais. "I found a wool merchant that I am very satisfied with. And the hunting rights treaty came out much more in our favor than we had hoped," she began.

Behind her, Berior pulled a satchel off his shoulder, flipped it open and pulled two folded parchments from it. He handed them to Lindomiel and she offered them to Thranduil. They bore the seal of the King of Dale.

Thranduil unfolded and scanned the parchments. He glanced over the agreement with the wool merchant, before turning closer attention to the treaty.

"Fengel easily accepted that we would not allow hunting with dogs or horses," Lindomiel explained as he read. "I did not get the impression they expected us to permit that. And he did not contest that we would not expand their hunting area, provided that it proves possible to take additional boar in the current range. He remained firm that they needed fifty boar and he consented to pay ten coins total for them."

"Perfectly fair," Thranduil agreed. Five boars per coin was the established rate Dale paid to take game from the forest. His looked up from his reading and his gaze darted between Legolas, Galithil and Berior when they exchanged a grin.

"That is not all," Lindomiel said. "In addition to the payment of ten coins, Fengel granted us a five coin reduction in the price we pay for the winter wheat, but he will send all the wheat to us unmilled. That is of no consequence, because we already re-mill it when we receive it. It never comes finely enough ground to suit Galuon."

"We will pay five coins less for the wheat? This winter only, surely," Thranduil asked.

Lindomiel shook her head.

"Every winter?" he asked, voice rising in surprise, before Lindomiel could say anything.

"Every winter they take the additional fifty boar," Lindomiel responded.

Thranduil smiled, very pleased. "I am afraid to ask how you managed to convince Fengel to agree to this," he said, tossing the parchment onto the meeting table next to the stack of correspondence that had arrived with the evening courier.

Now Lindomiel joined the children in grinning. "Well, it was hard for Fengel to negotiate down from the price of half a coin per boar that his son, Forwed, agreed to before consulting with his father," she said softly without looking back at the king.

"What price?" Thranduil exclaimed. He could not have heard that correctly.

Galithil laughed. "If you are reacting that way, uncle, imagine how Fengel reacted when he heard it. He was the one that would have had to pay it, after all."

"I believe his exact word were, 'May the Valar preserve us. Thranduil will own all of Dale within a year of my death,'" Legolas added with a sidelong smirk directed at Galithil that only made his cousin laugh harder.

Lindomiel and Berior were doing little better, but at least they were trying to hide their giggling with bowed heads.

"What is going on in Dale?" Thranduil demanded, his tone stern. He pulled out his chair at the head of the table, but waited to see if Lindomiel felt the explanation was worth sitting for.

She pulled out the chair to his right and seated herself. "Fengel's son is not going to be a ruler that we will enjoy working with," she said bluntly.

"Especially if he persists in negotiating treaties at the High Table during feasts," Galithil said under his breath.

"When he is not even informed of the price of the items he is negotiating for," Berior added.

"And does not even have the good sense to communicate the reasons why he wants the items in question," Legolas concluded. He looked at his father very seriously. "The boars are to feed orphans and widows of an epidemic they recently suffered in Dale."   

Thranduil frowned and sat at the table himself, gesturing for the children, Arthiel, Hallion, Golwon and Engwe to sit as well. "Orphans and widows? We did not take advantage of Dale in its need, I trust?"

Lindomiel shook her head. "Fengel was well enough satisfied with the price." She nodded to Berior, who reached back into his satchel. "I think they were anxious to avoid incurring your wrath, since they had additional requests that they only presented to us upon our arrival." She handed Thranduil a third parchment and remained silent as he opened it.

"Timber?" he asked. "White oaks? Five of them? I am not selling Dale five white oak trunks." He bent the parchment over his finger in the place where Forwed had signed it. "Has this Forwed, son of Fengel lost his mind?" he asked, glaring at that signature.

"You cannot lose what you never possessed," Galithil said softly.

Legolas, Berior and even Lindomiel snickered at that comment.

Thranduil's brows knit. He hoped his nephew had managed to refrain from insulting the future king of Dale to his face. "I beg your pardon, Galithil?"

Galithil only shrugged. "He is not particularly intelligent," he replied.

"He is not particularly experienced in court," Legolas countered with a conciliatory tone. "According to Barad, at any rate. But, where he is experienced--in military matters, for example--he seems to do well enough. He was a better archer than any of the other men we competed against...."

"And that is saying very little," Colloth whispered to Lanthir and Tureden, who both smirked.

"And his officers obviously loved him," Legolas continued, ignoring the guards. "Most importantly, he seemed to care about his people..."

"Especially the women amongst them," Galithil interjected.

Legolas fixed his cousin with a forbidding glare, flicking a glance at Lindomiel.

Galithil sobered and looked down.

"I do agree that it would be best for me not to go alone, if at all, to Dale during Forwed's reign," Lindomiel said quietly.

Thranduil's eyes widened and he studied his wife carefully. There had been very few mannish rulers that she willingly barred herself from dealing with.

"Forwed has...beliefs about the place of women that elves would not agree with. True enough," Legolas continued. "But he is devoted to his people--his orphanage and his concern about the public mill prove that. After he gains more experience in court, I am sure his citizens will love him when he is their king."

"Assuming he does not bring them to ruin by emptying their treasury and making enemies of their allies," Tureden said from where he stood behind Legolas's chair.

Legolas rolled his eyes.

Thranduil looked at the guard with raised brows.

"I would be fleeing Dale in anticipation of Fengel's death if I was one of its citizens," Tureden said.

"He has a good deal to learn, but that would be an excessive reaction, I think. He is not as terrible as all that," Legolas answered back.

"If you are being sincere, that frightens me," Tureden retorted.

Thranduil's eyes widened in response to Tureden's implication. It was bad enough the guard was openly disrespecting Dale's heir, but he had more nerve than he had sense to disrespect the Woodland Realm's heir, especially since he was already on thin ground for similar recent behavior. Thranduil drew a sharp breath to reply.

Legolas spoke before his father had a chance. "I beg your pardon, Tureden," he snapped, spinning around in his chair to face him. "Surely I misunderstood you. There is no possibility that you would be publicly questioning my judgment in the same way that you just mocked lord Forwed's. You certainly would not be doing so in the Great Hall in the presence of the King's council."

"It was a joke, my lord. One in poor taste, I will grant you. I apologize," Tureden responded, frowning, but with his gaze on the floor.

Thranduil held his tongue, waiting to see if that apology satisfied his son.

Legolas's posture relaxed, if only only marginally. "Perhaps I am being a bit overly sensitive. If so, I also apologize, Tureden."

"No apology is needed, my lord," Tureden said quietly. "My point about Forwed, in truth, was that you are far more fit to become the king of this realm--and possibly even of Dale--than Forwed is to become the king of his own realm, and you are still a child."

"I am older than Forwed by several years I believe," Legolas observed, looking at Lindomiel for confirmation.

She nodded.

Silence reigned in the Hall as Thranduil considered what, if anything, he intended to say in response to that exchange, or the future of Dale's rule. Tureden and Legolas's ongoing conflict aside, a good many of the observations he had just heard about Forwed would have disturbed him if Celonhael had delivered them. That Legolas and his cousins had witnessed this.... Well, it was not the worst they had seen, he supposed, loosing a long, quiet breath.

"Forwed needs the timber to repair their mill," Berior said in a soft voice, in an attempt to refocus the conversation. "It is practically derelict. They have been using pine to repair it, apparently for years. We made no promises with regards to this timber, obviously. Indeed, we made it clear that it is very unlikely we will send five white oaks. But I do recommend we send him one of the two trunks we have seasoning now, with the warning that it needs to season two more years before it is installed. We just replaced the main shaft of our mill, so it should last several dozen more years. That is plenty of time to season a spare of our own, but Dale's need is immediate. As for timber to replace the paddles on the mill wheel and siding on the mill house, they do not need oak for that. They can use anything. I recommend we send them beech. It is more easily worked than oak and it is plentiful." He paused. "Their request for an ongoing arrangement to maintain the shaft is the largest problem. The shaft really does have to be made from white oak. There is no alternative."

"I am aware of that," Thranduil interrupted. "And I do recognize they need a mill and have no access to oak other than this forest. But finding a tree that is tall, straight and broad enough? It is not a simple task."

"I do understand that, my lord," Berior said. "I have been thinking about this request during our entire journey home and I have an idea. According to adar's ledger entry from the last time we cut oaks for our mill, all the remaining trees that are currently suitable for this purpose also hold telain."

Thranduil flashed a glance at Golwon, who nodded once in confirmation.

"You surely will not want to cut those," Berior continued. "But what about the part of the forest, near the eastern border, north of the Path, that burned this summer? It burned clear. Nothing is left but scorched ground. The village that was in that area has already relocated."

Again, Thranduil looked to Golwon and Golwon nodded.

"What if, rather than allowing the forest to come back naturally, we plant it with white oak saplings? And we ask no one to settle in them? That area should accommodate ten, maybe even a dozen oaks, full grown. With luck, before either we or Dale need another main shaft, some of those trees will have grown tall and broad enough. That oak in the corner of the Queen's garden was a sapling around the time we were born," he said looking at his cousins. "And it is nearly large enough to be cut to make a mill shaft..."

"But it will not be," Lindomiel interrupted. "I planted that oak for easy access to the acorns it produces."

"I know, my lady. I am simply using it as an example of how fast we can expect the oaks we plant to grow sufficiently." He turned back to Thranduil. "If we do this, we can set those trees aside for our own use--both timber and acorns--and for Dale's use, since they would be located where it would be easy enough for the men to retrieve them without really having to enter the forest."

Thranduil remained silent, considering that proposal.

"So, essentially, you are suggesting that the king cede a portion of the forest to Dale," Galithil said quietly into the silence.

Thranduil's gaze snapped to Galithil. Cede part of the forest! That was absurd! But Galithil was smirking at Berior. This was obviously some sort of joke between them.

Berior did not appear to think it was terribly funny.

"Would it be possible for you to hold your mischievous tongue for long enough to allow those of us with work to do to accomplish it?" he said with an overly stern expression.

"It is a reasonable question," Legolas added, with all apparent sincerity. "I thought we had decided against suggesting that the king cede part of the forest when we discussed this with Barad on the way back from the mill,"

Berior turned to Legolas and now he appeared a little desperate. "You, at least, surely can be counted upon to know better than to play out your vengeance on me for my... observations on the Green when serious topics are at hand," he whispered.

Legolas merely raised an eyebrow.

"Enough foolishness," Thranduil intervened, smothering a smile of his own. He rather missed the entertainment Aradunnon brought to morning council and would not mind seeing Galithil take his father's place. But Galithil and Legolas combined? That he would withhold judgment on--it might be too much. "Do those villagers intend to move back to that part of the forest?" he asked Golwon quickly to prevent further distractions.

"I do not believe so, my lord," he answered. "They moved their homes further inside the forest and closer to one of the tributaries of the Forest River."

"Ruscil is never fond of any efforts to manipulate what grows where," Thranduil observed, now looking between Golwon and Arthiel.

"Master Ruscil is even less fond of cutting trees to sell to men," Arthiel replied. "I think he would find this plan far more palatable than cutting trees that grew naturally. At least he will be prepared for their ultimate fates."

"Will you approach him on this matter? With Berior and Golwon?"

"If you wish for me to do so, my lord, of course I will."

"Very well," Thranduil said with a sigh. "I agree this is a good solution. If you have thought this through so thoroughly, Berior, I would wager you have a suggestion regarding what price we place on the sale of these trees."

Berior nodded. "I recommend the price for the agreement and the spare tree we send them now be that they cut us a new mill stone for our own mill from the mountain. We last replaced ours over a hundred years ago. The three before this one lasted little longer than that, so it must be time to replace it."

"I was going to recommend a stone be the price we ask, my lord," Lindomiel agreed. "Indeed, I had intended to approach you next spring regarding the replacement of our stone. Sooner is better."

Thranduil nodded. "Very well. And you both believe it is wise to give them one of the oaks we are currently seasoning? Their need is worth the risk to us?" he asked, looking from Berior to Lindomiel.

"I did not tour their mill," Lindomiel replied. "I was working with Fengel and the wool merchants. Berior, Legolas and Galithil saw the mill."

Thranduil turned back to them.

"Their mill is in dire need, my lord," Berior said. Legolas and Galithil nodded. "And it is unlikely our new shaft will fail, along with the remaining replacement, before we could season a spare. But we could stipulate in this agreement that, if that should happen, the men would have to mill our flour until we could replace our shaft."

"Which would be an extreme inconvenience," Thranduil muttered. "We will send them the oak, but their mill will have to find a way to survive two more years without it," he added in a stronger voice. "The oak we have is not fully seasoned and I will not risk sending it to them before it is and having them ruin it by putting it into use too soon. Berior, you and Hallion work together to compose a reply to Forwed agreeing to give him one of our oaks. In two years, when it is ready. You can give him the beech now, if he wants it immediately. You may also promise him ongoing rights to oak in exchange for millstones. But they must retrieve the timber and deliver the millstones themselves."

"Yes, my lord," both Berior and Hallion replied.

Thranduil sat back in his chair. "Well done, Berior," he added quietly and was rewarded by a smile that reminded him far too much of Celonhael. He looked away quickly lest his expression reveal something Berior might not understand. Or, worse still, something he would understand. Thranduil had no desire to dampen Berior's mood with unnecessary reminders. "Was that the only unexpected incident, then? Or is there more?" he asked.

"That was the only surprise from my point of view," Lindomiel said with a smile. "I imagine Legolas, Galithil and Berior found most everything they saw to be at least somewhat unexpected. I know I did the first time I visited a mannish town."

"True enough, nana," Legolas said, smiling back at her.

Lindomiel stood, bringing everyone to their feet. "If our business is finished, I am going to enjoy a bath," she said with a glance at Thranduil.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow when Galithil and Berior hid a grin, and Legolas a frown, under bowed heads in response to that announcement.

"There is little else I would enjoy better," Galithil said. "Unless it was some decent wine."

"Too right," Berior agreed.

Thranduil drew a breath to agree that they all should retire to the family quarters, but one of the Gate Guards appeared at the doors of the Hall, interrupting him.

"Lord Dolgailon has arrived, my lords," he called.

Arthiel immediately started towards the back of the Hall, without so much as a word to Thranduil or Lindomiel, an expression of utter relief on her face.

Dolgailon obviously shared the details of the information they learned about Manadhien with his wife.

Thranduil was about to order Arthiel to wait for Dolgailon in the Hall, if she could not rein in her expression, but she stopped herself just inside the antechamber, so instead, he turned his attention to Legolas and his cousins. "Dolgailon and I will join the rest of you in the sitting room in a few moments," he said firmly. He had no intention of allowing the children to focus on Manadhien when they should be relating stories of their adventure to their friends.

"I would like to at least greet my brother," Galithil replied with the same stubborn tone he had used his entire life to argue for forbidden privileges. He made no move to follow Golwon, Lindomiel and the guards, who had accepted Thranduil's dismissal. Neither did Legolas or Berior.

"I think I have the right to hear whatever news Dolgailon might have of Manadhien," Legolas said quietly. "I bought that right with my own blood."

"My father's life bought my right to hear what Dolgailon will say," Berior said, folding his arms across his chest.

Thranduil shook his head, ready to insist they leave. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lindomiel frown.

"My lord," the Gate Guard called. He had returned to his post, but was facing inside the stronghold. "Tulus is with Lord Dolgailon."

"Tulus!" Legolas exclaimed, peering through the doors of the Hall and out the Gates. Then he turned to Thranduil. "I am staying," he declared. "I want to speak to Tulus. And hear what he has to say."

"We will discuss both Tulus and Dolgailon's reports in council tomorrow," Thranduil argued. "And if you wish, I will invite Tulus to join us in the sitting room when we are finished speaking. But would you not prefer to spend the evening enjoying the company of your friends rather than enduring news of an elleth that has done nothing but cause you grief?"

"What would your choice be in our place, adar?" Legolas replied, still without moving from in front of his chair.

"I would choose to stay," Thranduil admitted quietly, abandoning the argument. It was one he had no hope of winning, especially now that Tulus was here. That unexpected arrival could not possibly bode well.

Dolgailon, his guard, Galudiron, and Tulus emerged through the Gates. Thranduil gestured to Lindomiel and Golwon to leave while Arthiel embraced her husband in greeting. With a backward glance to the children and Dolgailon, Lindomiel complied.

Dolgailon spent a moment speaking to Arthiel in the antechamber as Galudiron and Tulus lingered by the doors of the Hall. Thranduil could hear him assuring her that he was perfectly well and that his delivery of the horses had gone exactly as planned. Arthiel gave him a hard look in response to that as he asked her to wait for him in the sitting room and promised he would join her as quickly as he could manage.

Thranduil felt a stab of anger that Oropher's grandchildren, rather than enjoying the warmth of their families, were compelled to spend their time dealing with the very kinslayers that Oropher had worked so hard to escape.

After watching his wife disappear through the doors to the family quarters, Dolgailon turned into the Hall, followed by Galudiron and Tulus. They strode quickly up the center aisle and dropped to one knee when they reached the table.

Thranduil stepped forward, gesturing for Dolgailon and the guards to stand. He embraced his brother's son as soon as he did. "Welcome home, Dolgailon. I am very relieved to see you back safely."

Dolgailon smiled at him as he stood back, but his attention was quickly claimed by his brother, cousins and finally Hallion and Engwe, who had also remained in the Hall to hear Dolgailon's report. They all greeted Galudiron and Tulus as well. Tulus's very reserved responses did nothing to dispel Thranduil's concern over his presence.

"What news from the southern realm?" Thranduil asked once everyone had been seated around the table.

Dolgailon snorted softly at that apparently innocuous question. "Selwon, Nindir and Pellion were genuinely thrilled by the delivery of the horses. They send their thanks." Dolgailon extracted a stack of letters from his tunic pocket and placed them next to the correspondence already on the table. "Leithor sends his appreciation as well, along with his complaints that his village did not receive a mare. And Maethorness. Well, as one might expect, given her normal personality, she sends nothing but complaints. Ones I expect you can ignore. I will leave you to read them as you will. Over all, the gift of these horses was very well received and generated the responses we expected."

Saying that, Dolgailon fell silent.

Thranduil waited for him to continue.

"What about Manadhien and your village?" Galithil demanded when his brother remained quiet for too long.

Dolgailon's jaw clenched. "It is much worse than we expected," he said quietly.

Thranduil drew a long, calming breath. "How so?"

Dolgailon looked at him levelly. "Seregon, the head of the village guard, do you remember him?"

Thranduil nodded. So did Legolas and Galithil.

"He led a group of villagers to see me." Dolgailon glanced at Galithil. "One of them was your friend, Galasserch. He sends you his greetings." He turned back to Thranduil. "Others were elves that once advised my adar. I know them all well." He paused to draw Thranduil's full attention.

Thranduil leaned forward slightly. Dolgailon already had his full attention.

"They crept into my talan through the balcony to meet with me," Dolgailon continued. "They were afraid to be seen speaking with me publicly. In their own words, they did not want to be seen as a traitorous mob by displaying too much loyalty to the king or his family."

Thranduil's jaw dropped. Everyone else at the table, even Hallion, exclaimed in disbelief at that.

"That is not even the worst of it. They told me that over the last years, Moralfien has systematically driven away every one of the elves that served my adar--by means of simple discourtesy at times, but more often by informing them that their counsel was no longer needed. Many have left the village entirely, but none have any influence there. They told me that some of them sent complaints, either to you or to me, about her. I have never received any such complaint. Have you?"

"I have not," Thranduil replied quietly. If Manadhien was able to control correspondence coming out of the southern realm...
 
"It gets still worse. Seregon told me that village guards with a long history of loyalty to me, or my adar or the king--like himself--are regularly asked to take the more distant or southern patrols. I might argue that was wise, since those guards are likely the most experienced and can best manage those patrols. But Seregon said that they have suffered an unusually high incidence of injury of late. In contrast, newer guards--ones who have recently moved to the village, presumably from Lorien, as Pauron did after Amroth left--they seem to almost never encounter orcs on their patrols. Seregon said to me that, if he did not know it was impossible, he would believe that Moralfien commanded orcs and ordered them to only target elves loyal to the king."

"Of course, we know that Manadhien is indeed allied with orcs," Engwe muttered as Legolas, Galithil and Berior whispered amongst themselves.

Thranduil spoke over them all. "How did you respond to that statement?" he asked.

"I said nothing, of course. I would have trusted Seregon with the information we have about Manadhien, but there was no way for me to speak with him privately. And telling everyone that was present--that is obviously too great a risk. So I assured them that I would speak to Moralfien and ensure her loyalty to you."

"And how did your conversation with her go?" Thranduil asked. As if he did not already know the answer to that question.

Dolgailon's expression grew hard and he glanced at Legolas. "I arrived in time to hear her relating to the villagers that Legolas had killed two elves and you had executed two others."

From the corner of his eye, Thranduil saw Legolas draw himself up in his chair.
 
"I was able to gather from the patrols on my way home that Pelin, Lagril, Fuilin and Mauril attacked Legolas on the Green and a hunt ensued," Dolgailon continued. "But be certain those details were not part of Manadhien's report to the village. I was able to manage it so that, in the end, the villagers understood what happened and why. But if I had not been there, the way she portrayed that news could have been very damaging. I spoke to her about that and about the horses. She made up absurd lies to explain away both incidents."

"And how did you respond to that?"

"Honestly, my lord, I did not respond at all. I could not do so without revealing too much, so I admonished her, again, that I expected her unfailing loyalty to you and to me and she promised to give it. Another lie, obviously. To be frank, what disturbed me more than anything else--more than hearing her slander you and Legolas; more than hearing that she is actively putting elves in the paths of orcs--was her ability to look me in the face and lie completely convincingly. If I did not know exactly how she got the coins to buy those horses, I would have believed the story she told me. At the time, even knowing it was a lie, I considered it believable, when, in fact, it was absurd and any reasonable person ought to recognize it as such. I cannot imagine how she can lie so compellingly."

"What witchcraft does she weave?" Tulus whispered under his breath.

"Indeed," Legolas and Dolgailon agreed as one.

Thranduil looked between them. Tulus's words were a quote. He was repeating what Legolas had asked Glilavan after he had attacked him. Thranduil had thought nothing of those words then. Glilavan was ensorcelled by hatred fed by grief, nothing more.

Or was he? How could Dolgailon be thusly deceived?

"Was it some sort of unnatural craft?" Thranduil asked quietly, looking intently at Dolgailon.

His young nephew startled at the very suggestion. "How could it be?" he asked.

"She has Ages of experience lying, my lord," Hallion intervened. "Surely, it is nothing more than that."

"Every person who has ever testified against her in this Hall claimed that she possessed powerful speech," Thranduil reminded him.

"She has a way of making the unthinkable seem justified," Tulus said, looking at Thranduil.

He nodded. "That is what you testified about her."

"Are you suggesting she can..." Dolgailon frowned, struggling for words. "That she has...she uses some sort of spell to bend people to her will?"

"Could it be?" Thranduil asked. "Of all of us here, you and Tulus have the most experience with her."

Dolgailon turned an alarmed look on Tulus.

Tulus looked down. "I would like to believe that is true," he said. "It would excuse, if even slightly, how my son and I fell in with her. But I cannot claim to know it to be true. She did convince me that insane plans were reasonable. If she used sorcery to do so, I cannot say. I would not recognize such artifices. I have absolutely no experience with them. None that I can be certain of, at any rate."

Thranduil gazed steadily at Dolgailon.

He shook his head. "Nor would I recognize them, my lord. I do not know how she did it, but I believed her story of how she obtained that gold, even as I reminded myself that it was not true."

"Sounds like sorcery," Legolas whispered.

"She was in Ost-in-Edhil," Engwe said. "She was one of the Gwaith-i-Mirdain. You said yourself, Thranduil, that she sat at table with Annatar."

"The Gwaith-i-Mirdain! Annatar! You are not suggesting that Manadhien has a Ring of Power!" Hallion exclaimed with a scoffing tone.

"A Ring of Power? Of course not," Engwe replied calmly. "We all have our suspicions of where those lie and it is certainly not with her. But a lesser ring? There were many rings of power made in Ost-in-Edhil, as I understand it. They might not have been as powerful as the Nine, Seven or Three, but they are none of them to be trifled with."

Dolgailon knocked his knuckles on the table for attention. "Sorcery or no, she is dangerous and that is the important matter at hand. I cannot leave her unsupervised in that village, my lord. I cannot leave the elves that long trusted my adar, and now trust me, to her mercy. Not after hearing what Seregon and the other elves told me."

"We agreed that we must capture all her servants, Dolgailon," Thranduil began.

"And that is why I was very glad to meet Tulus on the way home," Dolgailon interrupted him. He looked towards the guard.

Tulus openly cringed to have attention shifted so abruptly to him. "I was coming north. To speak with you personally, my lord. I know where Fuilin is hiding. I can take you...or Dolgailon...or anyone you wish to him," he said without looking at the king.

Thranduil's brows drew together sharply. Tulus's demeanor was clearly not as victorious as it should be when delivering that news. He waited for the guard to continue speaking, knowing there must be more.

Tulus finally looked up and met Thranduil's gaze. "Glilavan was with Fuilin when I found him. He escaped. And returned to the forest."

Thranduil's hands clenched around the arms of his chair where they were resting.

"What?" Galithil exclaimed.

"I told you exiling him was a dangerous gamble," Berior said bitterly. "One we lost. We should have..."

"Silence, Berior," Legolas and Hallion demanded as one. As he spoke, Legolas reached out to lay a hand on Tulus's shoulder.

Tulus closed his eyes. "I cannot.... I was prepared to confront Fuilin. To bring you his body. But with Glilavan there...there is no way I could...not without a fight ensuing...and I cannot..."

Thranduil waved him silent. "I understand, Tulus. I would never ask that of you. I will manage it. With an outcome we can both accept, unless Glilavan forces me otherwise."

Tulus only nodded without opening his eyes.

Thranduil loosed a long sigh. "Do you have a suggestion, Dolgailon? Since you said that you will not allow Manadhien to continue ruling your village? Even if we capture or kill Fuilin and Glilavan, there might still be two more servants, the brothers of Lagril and Pelin, that Tureden mentioned. Did you hear about them yet? We still have to find and identify them."

"Manadhien has two elves in the village with her now," Dolgailon replied. "Elves I have never seen in that village. They are very loyal to her. She claims they are from Lorien. Perhaps they are these two unknown servants."

"We must be sure of that," Thranduil said.

"I can go with Tulus to get a look at them," Tureden suggested.

Legolas nodded. "He is the only one of us that would recognize them."

"And if he can confirm they are Lagril and Pelin's brothers, we are finished with this," Dolgailon said, jumping on that idea. "Someone can go get Fuilin and Glilavan. Tureden, Galudiron, Tulus and I can arrest Manadhien and her servants in the village and we are done. But if they are not her unknown servants, I must stay in that village. No matter how difficult it will make it for me to command the warriors. I cannot leave it in her hands."

Thranduil frowned. "If these two elves are not the servants we are seeking and this is not over, your return to that village will drive her away, Dolgailon. There is no reason for her to stay in the village if you take her little realm away from her."

Dolgailon said nothing in reply. He returned Thranduil's gaze stubbornly.

Thranduil's frown deepened. "If you stay in the village, she will first make an effort to remove you. If, Valar forbid, she is successful, you have accomplished nothing to help your village and you have deprived this realm of its Troop Commander. If she is not successful, she will leave the village, making keeping track of her and her servants much more difficult, if not impossible. You cannot go back, Dolgailon."

"I have no choice, my lord. I cannot allow her to send elves to their deaths at the hands of orcs. I cannot allow her to poison the newcomers to this forest against its king. And I cannot allow her to poison the elves that have lived in this forest for Ages against its king."

"There has to be another solution," Thranduil insisted.

"I could go to the village and keep an eye on her," Galithil said.

"No!" Legolas exclaimed the moment Galithil spoke.

"No!" Dolgailon echoed him.

"My presence would at least make her hesitant to openly criticize the king," Galithil continued, ignoring them both. "It did before, when Legolas and I were in the village to speak to the dwarves. That would at least serve to make life more comfortable for those loyal to the king. And I might be able to make it more difficult for her to hide her dealings with the Enemy."

"I will not consider that proposal, Galithil," Thranduil replied, at least doing him the courtesy of waiting until he finished speaking. "You are not of age, so you may not make this choice without my permission. And I am hesitant to allow Dolgailon, an experienced warrior, to go near Manadhien. I am certainly not sending you."

"Fuilin told me that her intention was to target Galithil after me," Legolas interjected, causing Galithil to shoot him a scathing look.

"My lord, just listen to me," Galithil pleaded. "We need someone who can support those elves in the south that are loyal to you, who understands the threat Manadhien is, but whose presence will not drive her away. I am the perfect person. I could go to the village and tell her that you sent me to learn to govern it. From her. She would be flattered. More importantly, she would be compelled to stay to teach me and I would have a hand in everything she does, by necessity, as I supposedly learned from her, so I could help control this situation until we are ready to arrest her, whenever that might be."

"Unless she sells you to men," Legolas said. "Galithil, this is insane."

Galithil made a face at him. "I will be in the village with Colloth. Tulus and six other spies will still be watching the village. She will not sell me to men."

"I could not go with you, Galithil," Colloth said. "I would recognize Manadhien."

"Then Lanthir or Galuauth can go with me."

"They could go if I were considering sending you, which I am not," Thranduil said. His tone was final.

"I could go with him also," Dolgailon said softly. "As his older brother and guardian, to supervise him, ostensibly, but I would tell Manadhien that my duties as Troop Commander prevent me from teaching him myself. I could say we admire her leadership and want her to teach him. I have told her before that I do admire her ability to manage such a large village, so it would be believable. Of course, I would truly be there to keep Galithil safe and help him control her. But, if Manadhien thinks she is being entrusted to teach Galithil, she will likely stay. If for no other reason than to take advantage of the opportunity to plot against both of us at once...."

"Which is why I am not considering this. It is even worse then sending you alone..." Thranduil interrupted, now angry. How could Dolgailon think it was acceptable to subject his younger brother to such danger!

"Manadhien will not succeed in injuring me or Galithil with my guard, Galithil's guard and Tulus's spies all watching us," Dolgailon insisted. "Between Galithil and I, we can definitely keep her under control to the extent that she can be controlled. It would give us time to determine if we have identified all of her servants or not. If we have, I would be in place to help arrest her. If not, we can keep the village safe until we do. I think Galithil's plan has merit. Especially since we have no other plan."

"No." Thranduil replied flatly. "I will not endanger Galithil in this manner. He is still a child."

"My lord," Galithil said quietly.

Thranduil could not deny that he admired how reasonable Galithil had managed to keep his tone.

"You said, when you assigned Legolas and I guards, that you would have asked us then if we were willing to be bait to draw out Dannenion and Dolwon, if only we had been capable of defending ourselves. I am now capable of defending myself. Any officer in the Training Program will tell you that I am better skilled with a sword than Legolas, and he defended himself against Manadhien's servants. You allowed him to help hunt for them because it was his place to do so under the circumstances. This is my adar's village we are speaking of now. It is my business. Mine after Dolgailon, of course. I am willing to be bait to keep Manadhien in place and in check while we search for her servants. Unless you have another plan that will keep the village safe and keep her from fleeing, you must at least consider mine."

Thranduil's jaw clenched. "As long as I remain king of this realm, lord Galithil, I will decide what I must consider."

"Then, as king, my lord, what is your plan?" Galithil retorted. "You have rejected mine and the village leader's. What alternative do you, or anyone else here, propose?"

Thranduil's teeth ground together. "You are every bit your adar's son, Galithil," he bit out. Then he took a deep breath in an effort to rein himself in. Reason, not force, governed the House of Oropher. He needed a convincing argument to turn Galithil from this course. What would sway him? "You might be forced to stay in that village for a very long time, if Manadhien's servants are not easily found," Thranduil finally said. "And you will likely be doing little more than copying for her. She will never give you any true authority. You might miss years of training. It would greatly delay your entry into the ranks of this realm's warriors. You do not want to make that sacrifice."

Galithil looked down. Legolas cast his cousin sidelong look that made Thranduil's eyebrows rise involuntarily.

"I am willing to do what is necessary to serve that village, my lord," Galithil said quietly, without looking up. "And I do not intend to become a warrior, so I do not view delaying my training as a sacrifice."

Thranduil's eyes widened and darted from Galithil to Legolas. Legolas's eyes were closed. He shook his head once before restraining himself. Legolas had at least suspected this. He was not surprised by it. Thranduil turned back to Galithil. This was not a ploy! He was sincere!

"What did you say?" Dolgailon demanded.

Galithil faced him with obvious reluctance. "I am only attending the training so I am capable of defending myself. And this realm, if necessary," he said. "I intended to serve long enough in a patrol to gain some experience, but only long enough to feel justified in asking you to allow me to lead that village, if you preferred to remain in the stronghold after I come of age. Or, if you return to the village, I intended to ask to serve you there."

Dolgailon's mouth hung open during that speech. "Galithil, you have a duty..."

"To serve this realm," Thranduil interrupted. "There are many ways for him to do so. Including in your village, however you deem best, Dolgailon."

Dolgailon turned to him, stunned and angry.

"We will all respect, not argue over, Galithil's decisions regarding how he can best serve this realm," Thranduil continued, his tone carefully measured.

That elicited even more surprise from Dolgailon and a look of profound gratitude from Galithil.

Thranduil stood, raising everyone else to their feet. "We will continue this discussion tomorrow. After petitions. When we are all more rested and have had time to gather our thoughts." He turned towards the door behind the throne without waiting for further arguments. He knew his brother's family well enough to know the arguments would follow him, will or not.

"Will you consider sending me to the village, my lord?" Galithil asked, immediately satisfying Thranduil's expectations.

"I will consider any reasonable plan to contain the damage Manadhien might do," he replied.

Which meant he would have to think of a better plan quickly.

*~*~*

Naneth/nana -- Mother/mum
Adar/ada -- Father/dad
gwador nin -- My brother (sworn brother, not blood brother)
ionnath nin--my sons
talan/telain -- the houses in trees where the elves lived

AN: This is the end of Foreign Journeys. This series will continue in Fall into Shadow, which will bring some major changes for both Thranduil's family and their enemies. That story needs a bit of work still, so there will be a few weeks break before I start to post it. I hope to start posting it sometime after I finish my Halloween costume.