12. Entertaining Visitors

Legolas had been given leave to spend the night with Annael. On previous occasions, they had discovered that it was far easier to return late to Annael's cottage than to the palace. Annael had no older brothers, and no guards stood before the doors of his home. Moreover, his parents were more easy-going than Thranduil was. Indeed, Legolas thought that Annael took his own placid temperament directly from them.

As they approached the cottage, however, Annael suddenly paused and looked a bit apprehensive. He regarded Legolas who was softly singing a song to the night that he was creating as he went along. Legolas stopped too and stood docilely as his friend raised first his own hood and then Legolas's. Annael poked at the blue feather that dangled in Legolas's face and tucked it out of sight under the hood.

"I think that it would be best if you stopped singing now," Annael said. "My parents are probably both abed, and we do not want to disturb them."

"Very well," said Legolas agreeably, and the two of them entered the cottage.

The little hallway was dim, for no windows opened into it, and Annael's parents did, indeed, seem to have gone to bed. They had left a lantern burning on a table in the hallway, though, and Annael went forward and picked it up. Legolas trailed after him, humming to himself.

"Annael?" called a deep voice from the bed chamber to their right. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Adar," Annael answered. "I am sorry that we disturbed you." Legolas was suddenly struck by a perfect melody for his song and sang a bit out loud to see how it sounded. Annael hastily clapped his hand over his friend's mouth.

There was a second's silence. "Is that Legolas I hear with you?" asked the voice.

"Yes," Annael answered and then, unexpectedly, he gave a nervous giggle. He cringed and clapped his hand over his own mouth.

There was another brief silence. "It sounds as if both of you should go to bed," the voice said, rather dryly. "I believe that you have to be at the novices' training fields early tomorrow. I suspect that you are going to be less happy then than you are now."

"Good night, Adar," Annael called and shoved Legolas unceremoniously through the door to his own chamber, closing it behind him. The two of them collapsed against the door, laughing as quietly as they could, although Annael was also dismayed. "Adar will have something to say about this," he moaned.

"But not now," Legolas returned happily. He shed the pack he was wearing and then dropped to his knees to drag out the pallet that he knew was under Annael's bed. He shoved it against the other wall and collapsed on it. "Do you think that we will really be less happy in the morning?" he asked dreamily, already beginning to drift off.

"Probably," Annael said, taking the time to remove his cloak and boots before flopping onto the bed. "My adar is usually right, I am sorry to say." He leaned over to put out the lantern and then he, too, fell asleep.

Morning came with unbelievable swiftness. Legolas awoke to find Annael's father shaking his shoulder. "Time to get up," he said cheerily. Legolas looked over at the bed, where Annael sat holding his head in his hands. As he looked at his friend, it occurred to Legolas that he too had a headache of blinding proportions.

"The two of you need to bathe and dress," Annael's father went on with relentless good spirits. "Your naneth has made a special breakfast, Annael." He left the room, shutting the door noisily behind him. They both jumped and moaned.

A short time later, the two friends dragged themselves into the kitchen and sat down at the table. They were freshly washed and dressed and had rebraided their hair with the bright feathers. But they both looked slightly stunned. Annael's mother stood looking at them with one hand over her mouth, while his father eyed them appraisingly.

"Are you two planning to appear before the novice masters with your hair like that?" he asked. Annael's father was a warrior serving in the Home Guard, and he had an accurate idea of what was likely to happen this morning on the novices' training fields.

"Yes," said Annael, a bit defensively.

His father gave a short laugh. "I will say one thing for the two of you: You are brave."

"Oh, Annael," his mother moaned.

His father gestured toward the food that stood waiting. "I expect that these two young warriors are hungry," he said heartily, and Annael's mother picked up the plates of food and set them in front of the two friends. Lightly cooked fried eggs stared gelatinously up at them next to some very fatty bacon. Annael took one look and bolted from the room, but Legolas was made of sturdier stuff. He took a forkful of the bacon and raised it toward his mouth. Then the smell struck him like a dwarf's hammer, and he too fled the room.

***

Ithilden sat in his office, trying to focus on the reports in front of him, but his thoughts kept drifting to Alfirin. The baby growing within her was beginning to drain her strength. The bond that Ithilden shared with his wife meant that he could offer her his own strength to support her, and he did so as much as he could. As a consequence, they were both tired much of the time, and he worried over her.

"My lord?" said his aide from the doorway.

He looked up. "What is it?"

"Tonduil asks to see you," the aide said.

Ithilden raised his eyebrows. What could his young brother-in-law want? "Send him in," he said.

Tonduil's appearance immediately drove all thoughts of the novice's sister from Ithilden's mind. What had the young fool done to his hair? Ithilden seldom interfered in matters to do with the novices, for he did not wish to meddle in an area that Lómilad managed well. So he had no intention of commenting on the bizarre little braid and the feather, but he was willing to wager that Lómilad would not be so restrained.

"Sit down," he offered in as neutral a tone as he could manage. "What is it you wanted to see me about?"

Tonduil drew a deep breath but let it out without speaking. Whatever he had to say was evidently difficult for him to get out. "I am very sorry, Ithilden," he finally said in a rush, "but I wish to resign from the novice training."

Ithilden sat back in his chair and regarded Tonduil steadily. "The training mission was difficult," he offered.

"Yes," said Tonduil, "but that is not the reason I wish to resign. At least, that is not the only reason. I was unhappy before that. I am not like Legolas, you know, and Thelion says that I should do what will make me happy."

Ithilden kept his face impassive. "And what would that be?" he asked.

"I would like to be a horsemaster," Tonduil responded, a light coming into his eyes. "And my adar says that he can arrange for me to be apprenticed to a horsemaster right away, this afternoon even, if I wish it."

Ithilden had no difficulty at all believing that his father-in-law would act swiftly to help his son become something other than a warrior. Tonduil's family had never believed that this was the right path for him.

"Are you certain that this is what you want?" Ithilden asked.

"Yes," Tonduil responded firmly. "I am sorry if it disappoints you, Ithilden," he added, now looking anxious.

Ithilden grinned broadly at him. "Far from being disappointed," he said, "I must congratulate you. You could have been a warrior if you cared to, of course, but I think that you will be an exceptionally fine horsemaster. You have a real gift with the beasts."

Tonduil let out his breath in a great sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said, happily.

"Will you be at the ceremony for you and the other novices this morning?" Ithilden asked.

"I would rather not," said Tonduil. "I wish to go with my adar to meet the horsemaster who will train me."

"Go then," Ithilden told him. "Have a good time." Thus dismissed, Tonduil hurried from the room, his mind already on his future. Ithilden smiled to himself. Alfirin would be happy, he thought. He looked forward to telling her about Tonduil's decision.

He had barely turned his attention back to his reports before the aide appeared in the doorway again. "Lord Eilian is here, my lord," he said.

"Good," Ithilden said, glad of the excuse. "Come on in, Eilian," he called over the aide's shoulder and his brother sauntered in and dropped into the chair that Tonduil had recently vacated. The aide withdrew.

"What brings you here to the haven of paperwork?" Ithilden asked lightly.

Eilian paused, as if considering the best way to broach his topic. "I wanted to talk to you about Legolas, actually," he said.

"What of him?" Ithilden asked cautiously.

"Did you know that when he finishes his training, he wants to be posted to the southern patrol?" Eilian asked.

Ithilden flinched. "No, I did not," he said wearily, rubbing his temples. "But that decision is years away, Eilian. There is no point in worrying about it now."

"I hear that Maldor is well enough to write reports," Eilian said. The comment might have seemed unconnected to the topic of Legolas, but Ithilden had managed to read some of what was on his desk, and he thought he understood the way his brother's mind was running. Indeed, he suspected that Maldor lay at the heart of Eilian's reason for this visit.

He pulled a piece of paper out of the stack. "Maldor's report on the training mission contains some details that Thelion's did not include and that you did not see fit to mention when we talked about the trip," he said. "He says that the novices did well, just as Thelion did, but he wants to place Legolas and Galelas on night guard duty for two weeks for quarreling." He looked at Eilian. "I know that you do not like him," he said. "But I wonder what you think of him as a novice master after the time you have spent seeing him at work."

Eilian hesitated. "It is difficult to say," he began slowly. "He is hard on them, but perhaps that is useful because they will need to be tough if they are to survive as warriors. And they do sometimes need the discipline he dishes out. They seem to respond to it, but I cannot help but think that they might respond as well to less harsh training methods. In some ways, he is devoted to them, but I hate the fact that he strikes them during the training."

Ithilden looked away, thinking. "I have been considering commuting all or part of the night duty as a reward for their efforts on the mission," he said. "But I hesitate because it is Legolas, and I do not want to look like I am playing favorites. And also, of course, I do not wish to undercut Maldor's authority with them."

Eilian considered. "If you can get Maldor to do it himself, I think that it will strengthen his position, not undercut it," he said.

Ithilden studied him. "I might be able to do that," he said slowly. "I would have to be at my silver-tongued best," he added wryly.

Eilian laughed. "I have faith in you," he said.

Ithilden regarded him again. "Have you ever considered becoming a novice master?" he asked carefully.

Eilian laughed and tipped his chair back on two legs. "Oh no," he said. "Judging by my experience so far, that would be too much excitement for me."

Ithilden's eyes drifted to Eilian's hand, which was inside his sling rubbing at his injured arm. Seeing the direction of his gaze, Eilian hastily withdrew his hand and rose to go, but Ithilden still had a question.

"Will Legolas be all right, do you think?" he asked.

"Of course," said Eilian surprised. "I think he has weathered the mission and even his near fall quite well."

Ithilden shook his head. "No, I mean will he be successful in the training? Will he be a good warrior?"

Now Eilian was really surprised. "There is no doubt in my mind that he will be," he said. "Our little brother is tougher than we realize sometimes, and I think that he has it in him to be a good captain too, once he has some experience and has gained more confidence in himself." Then he took his leave.

Ithilden managed to work for a while and made some headway in the paperwork that he hated but executed with his customary precision and care. Then the aide poked his head in the door again. "The ceremony for the novices is about to begin," he said. "You wanted me to remind you."

"Thank you," Ithilden said and began neatening up his desk, preparatory to leaving for the ceremony. He had approved of Lómilad's desire to give the youngest novices some public praise. They had had a difficult time and had handled it well. He would attend the ceremony to show that he, too, approved of their behavior.

As he neared the area where the ceremony was to be held, however, he could hear Lómilad speaking in a much sharper than usual voice. "What were you thinking?" he was crying. "Where were your brains?"

Ithilden approached the group. The twenty or so young Elves who were now in various stages of novice training were all lined up next to one of the training fields. Legolas, Annael, Galelas, and Isendir were grouped at one end of the line, and it was they whom the novice master was engaged in reprimanding. As Ithilden neared them, he could see why. All of them had cut, braided, and befeathered their hair in the same way that Tonduil had.

"Get rid of the feathers!" Lómilad was ordering. "And you had better find some way to work that short hair into your other braids before you come near this field again. I will not tolerate this – ." He appeared to grope for an appropriate word. "This haircutting!" he finished.

The novices tugged at the feathers, removing them and handing them over to Lómilad. Ithilden was actually feeling a bit sorry for them when an appalling thought struck him. Valar! What was Thranduil going to say when he saw Legolas?

Ithilden immediately resolved to be out of the palace that evening. He would take Alfirin to visit her parents. They could celebrate Tonduil's choice. Alfirin would like that. And her mother was a healer who could check on her daughter and reassure him that all was well.

Eilian had remained in the area, waiting to watch the ceremony. Now he sidled up to Ithilden. "Do they look odd to you?" he asked.

"Of course they look odd to me!" Ithilden responded in exasperation. "Just look at what the idiots have done to their hair!"

"No, I mean besides that," Eilian persisted. "Do they not look rather –" he paused delicately, "hung over?"

Ithilden blinked and immediately saw that Eilian was right. The four youngest novices all looked as if the light were hurting their reddened eyes. And Lómilad's lecture was definitely making them flinch beyond what he might have expected. They looked ill, a rare phenomenon in Elves, and one whose cause was only too obvious now that Eilian had pointed it out. Now that Ithilden thought about it, Tonduil had had something of the same look about him, but Ithilden had been distracted enough first by his hair and then by his announcement, that he had not registered it.

Ithilden groaned. Yes, tonight would assuredly be a good time for him and Alfirin to visit her parents. Her father had spent the day with Tonduil and would undoubtedly have already said anything he wanted to on the subject of Tonduil's hair or hangover. They would all be ready for pleasantness over evening meal. Thranduil, on the other hand, would be just getting started.

***

Legolas kept a firm grip on Tonduil's arm as they and the other three novices drew near to the cottage that was their destination. Legolas and the others had been waiting for Tonduil near his home at the end of their own long and painful day, for Lómilad had given them one last task and had instructed them to make sure that Tonduil, too, carried it out. "And keep in mind that I will be checking on you," he had said firmly before sending them on their way.

"But I am no longer a novice," Tonduil protested. "I should not have to do this."

"Shut up, Tonduil," growled Galelas. "If we have to this, then so do you."

They stopped in front of the cottage door and glanced at one another. Finally, Annael shrugged and knocked. The door opened and the five of them faced a slim She-elf with light brown hair curling softly around her sweet face. They gaped at her silently for a moment before Legolas remembered his courtly training and found his tongue.

"We are here to see Maldor," he said. "Although, perhaps he is not well enough to have visitors?" he added hopefully. But even before he had finished speaking, their hostess had opened the door wider with a delighted look on her face.

"You must be some of his novices," she cried. "Do come in. Maldor will be so happy to see you."

They squeezed into the hallway in a tight little group and then followed the She-elf into a sitting room where Maldor sat in a large chair near the fire with a blanket draped over his lap. He held a large mug of something hot in his hands and was sniffing at it with a scowl on his face.

"Tinemir, you cannot expect me to drink this foul stuff," he said and then broke off abruptly when he saw the novices.

"Do not be silly," Tinemir responded, hurrying toward him. "Of course you must drink it. Belówen says that you still need to take the antidote for the Orc poison." She kissed him on the top of his head. The novices stood in open-mouthed astonishment.

"But look," Tinemir went on, "you have visitors." She turned and smiled at them. "You just sit down, and I will get some cider and bread and honey. I know how hungry Elves your age always are." And she bustled away into the kitchen.

Maldor and the novices stared at one another in silence. Then suddenly his gaze was caught by the small braid that still dangled at Isendir's temple. In a moment, he swept his eyes over all of them. "What in Arda have you all done to your hair?" he barked.

"Lómilad has already ordered us to get rid of the small braids," Legolas put in hastily, hoping to avert another lecture on the subject. He was deeply grateful that the novice master (and in Tonduil's case, his father) had confiscated the feathers which would undoubtedly have been even more provocative.

"I should think he would," Maldor exclaimed. Whatever else he might have had to say on the subject was cut off when his wife came back in the room with a tray of food and drink. Tonduil moved to take it from her and place it at her direction on a table near the window. She directed them to chairs and then began passing out the plates and cups.

"I must ask," she said to her husband, "is this the group that carried you home after the Orc attack?"

"Yes," he said abruptly. "It is." He looked at them. "Ithilden has been to see me today," he said, "and from what I am told, you all did well. I commend you for your efforts in a difficult situation."

They sat for a moment in stunned silence. Finally, Legolas drew a wobbly breath and spoke. "Thank you," he said.

Maldor turned now to Galelas and Legolas, who happened to be sitting next to one another. "I presume that Lómilad has told you that I have decided that you will be serving one week of night guard duty, rather than two."

They both nodded, a little uncomfortable that their punishment was being discussed here.

"Given that you mended your ways, it is a more appropriate penalty," Maldor said stiffly.

"Thank you," said Legolas again, uncertain if that was an appropriate thing to say.

Tinemir now leaned forward earnestly and spoke to the group. "I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you for what you did. I do not know what I would have done if Maldor had not come home."

Galelas suddenly gave a cough that sounded to Legolas suspiciously like a suppressed snort. Maldor looked at him dryly.

"Tinemir," he said, "I think that these young Elves need to be on their way. I suspect that they have reached the limits of the effort that they can make for today."

"They do look tired," she exclaimed, as they all hastily rose. She escorted them to the door. "Please come and visit again!" she said warmly. "We would be happy to see you any time. We both enjoy having young people around."

They fled down the path and toward their own homes.

***

Carrying his cloak, Legolas entered the family's sitting room in search of Thranduil, but he found only Eilian sitting before the fire. Eilian had an open book in his lap, but he was staring into the fire rather than reading. Legolas was happy enough to find Eilian, for there was something he had been meaning to discuss with him, and he had previously been unable to find the privacy in which to do it.

Eilian looked up as Legolas sat down in the chair opposite him. "How do you feel?" he asked sympathetically.

Legolas grimaced. "Better for having slept a little," he said. "Do you think that Adar realized what the matter was?"

Eilian laughed. "I think that Adar was so preoccupied with telling you what he thought about your hair that he had little energy for noticing anything else," he said. He eyed the hair at Legolas's temple, where the shorter lock had been worked into one of his brother's braids. A few strands had escaped, but on the whole, Eilian judged that Legolas would now pass muster with the several adults who had felt free to comment on his appearance today.

Legolas frowned. He did not think that the fuss over his hair was funny. Moreover, he had hated being reprimanded today while the older novices and both of his brothers watched. He changed the subject to the one he was interested in. "Eilian," he began, "there is something that I wish to speak with you about."

Feeling a little guilty for his amusement, Eilian stopped smiling and regarded him attentively.

"Why have you not told Ithilden that I disobeyed your order to help you untie your arm?" Legolas asked.

Eilian looked uncomfortable. "I should not have asked you to do it," he said apologetically. "I realized afterwards that I was probably trying to take advantage of you when I asked you and no one else to help me. Besides, Thelion was in command, and he was unhappy when he realized that I had been using a bow. I should not have involved you."

Legolas regarded him seriously. "You know that I would obey your orders otherwise, do you not? I could serve under you and do it faithfully. I know that I could."

Eilian answered him with equal seriousness. "I know that you could," he said, "but I am not sure that I could bear to have you along on some of the missions the southern patrol undertakes."

"But I could do it!"

"That is not the question. The question is if I could do it," Eilian persisted. Legolas sighed in obvious exasperation. "Do not worry about this now," Eilian advised him. He smiled faintly. "You have years in which to educate me."

At that moment, their father entered the room, and they both stood. "Good evening, Adar," they chorused. He nodded at them, his eyes going straight to Legolas's hair. Evidently satisfied, he sat down and waved them back toward their seats. Eilian sat again, but Legolas remained standing.

He drew a breath and then said, "I am on my way to see Miriwen, Adar."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at him. When he had chastised Legolas for lying about his whereabouts at night, he had told his son that he could go out, but that he needed to tell Thranduil where he was going. This was the first time that Legolas had tested that rule. "Will you be late?" Thranduil asked him calmly.

"No," Legolas responded, evidently relieved at his father's placid response. "I start a week of night duty tomorrow, so I want to sleep tonight." For a moment, he looked as if he were marveling at something. "Maldor decided that one week on night duty was enough," he said.

Thranduil nodded. "Even in preparing for one week, sleep is advisable," he said, "particularly when one has been foolish enough to consume too much wine." He smiled serenely. "You may go," he added.

Legolas blinked. "Good night, Adar," he said rather weakly and escaped from the room.

Thranduil glanced across at Eilian, who was laughing softly. "Was I as simultaneously annoying and amusing as Legolas is when I was his age?" Eilian asked.

Thranduil snorted. "There are times when you are still as annoying as Legolas is and not nearly so amusing," he said. He regarded his middle son thoughtfully and let his eyes take in the injured arm. "You must take better care of yourself, iôn-nín," he said. "You frighten me, and I would miss you sorely if you were one day to take a risk that was too big."

Eilian rose, crossed to where his father was sitting, and dropped a kiss on his forehead. "I love you too, Adar," he said and grinned impudently.

***

Legolas paused outside the door to Miriwen's cottage, gathered his courage, and knocked. After a moment, Miriwen's father opened the door. "Legolas," he said, more welcoming than Legolas had worried he might be. "Come in." He opened the door invitingly. "We have been hearing about the excitement that the novices encountered on their trip," he continued, as he led Legolas into the kitchen. "I am glad to see you looking so well."

The kitchen looked just as he had remembered it. Miriwen sat at the table with a book open before her. Her mother was taking something fragrant from the oven, while the baby slept peacefully in a cradle in the corner.

"Hello, Legolas," Miriwen greeted him a bit shyly.

"Sit down," her mother invited him. "You have picked a good evening to visit. I have made the seed cakes that you like." She put the warm cakes and a jug of cider on the table, and the four of them sat down. Legolas suddenly realized how much he had missed not only Miriwen herself but also her family.

"Tell us about your trip," Miriwen's father invited, and Legolas did so, although the version that he gave them omitted much.

"We have not had anything as exciting as that happen while you were gone," Miriwen's mother told him when he had finished. "But Miriwen has reached a decision that we are pleased about." She smiled at her daughter, and Legolas looked at her inquiringly.

"I have decided that I want to become a healer like Alfirin's mother," she said bashfully. "I start my training tomorrow."

"That is wonderful," Legolas exclaimed. "You will be very good. You are so sympathetic." She smiled at him, grateful for the praise.

He rose reluctantly. "I must go now," he said. "I have to be up early tomorrow and I suppose that you do too," he added to Miriwen.

"Wait," said her mother. "You should take some of these cakes with you. We have more than enough." She wrapped two of the seed cakes in a napkin and pressed them on him.

Miriwen walked to the door with him and then stood just outside it to say goodnight.

"Miri, may I come to visit you again?" he asked. "I swear to you that I will not ask anything of you beyond your friendship, but I have missed being able to tell you the things that happen to me. And I want to know what you are doing too."

"I would welcome your visits, Legolas," she answered rather primly, "but my naneth said that if you asked, I was to tell you that you may come no more than once a week."

"That would be all right," Legolas said eagerly. He had a feeling that even though his father had given him leave to be out at night, Thranduil would not be happy with his visiting this cottage more frequently than weekly anyway. Oddly enough, he felt reassured by their parents' restrictions. Floundering about on his own had been exciting but daunting.

Miriwen smiled shyly at him. "I am glad to see you again, Legolas," she said. She stretched onto her toes, kissed him on the cheek, and then withdrew into the cottage, closing the door behind her.

As he walked happily along under the stars, it occurred to him that Maldor and Galelas, the two people who managed to get under his skin the most often, had also been the two people who had recently told him things about himself that he would do well to remember.

When he and Maldor had stood their watch together on the novice mission, Maldor had said that he was lucky in his friends, and Legolas knew that that was true. And on the previous evening, Galelas had told him that he was lucky to have Eilian as his brother. That was certainly true too, as it was true that he was lucky to have the rest of his family to fuss over him, and praise him, and discipline him, and love him. His desire to be "just" Legolas now seemed foolish. Being Legolas meant having these other people be part of his life too. And with that, for now, he was content.