Part 4.  The Wager 

“Legolas! Is that really you?’ exclaimed Tathar as he greeted his young friend who had travelled to meet Thranduil’s party beneath the eaves of Greenwood on their return from Imladris. They had been gone only a few brief months, but in that time sorrow and something Tathar could not quite define had changed Legolas.

“Of course it is I. Surely you have not been gone so long that you would forget me?” he replied with a puzzled expression.

“Nay, but you have a very different air about you. Do you not see it, your Majesty?” he asked turning to Thranduil who was also studying his son’s countenance. The hint of sorrow that now took a slight edge from the usual brilliance in his eyes was unmistakeable, yet not unexpected for Thranduil’s eyes mirrored the feeling they shared. However, there was also a more mature and even slightly regal lustre there as well, and for the first time Thranduil sensed a touch of his own majesty in his son, and his heart was filled with joy.

“Many of your subjects have made similar comments, for in your absence your son has handled the task of ‘king’ very well,” explained Thranduil’s Steward, a dear and trusted friend of uncountable years.

“You let *him* take charge of the Greenwood?”  Tathar asked the elder elf in mock disbelief, causing both Thranduil and his Steward to laugh.

“It was the King’s son’s place to do so, and he performed the task with the skill and responsibility one would expect,” affirmed the Steward, showing a little more respect than he believed Tathar did.

“My lord Steward, at the insistence of the lady Tariel and the Captain of the guard, decided I needed something to help take my mind from Naneth’s departure,” Legolas said, with more than a little affection for the elder elves who had taken care of him in his adar’s absence. Dealing with the matters of court had been exactly what he needed, and he had embraced the responsibility with fervour and every intention of making Thranduil proud. He had been certain it was what his naneth would have wished, and the pride in his adar’s eyes confirmed it had been the best thing he could have done, despite what Tathar thought.

“A shame really,” said Tathar, shaking his head and continuing in his jesting tone. “I assume your newfound maturity and sense of responsibility will prevent you from taking part in a little wager I made with Lord Elrond’s sons?” he asked Legolas with a sigh of resignation.

“Nay, if the honour of Greenwood needs defending, who better than the King’s son to do so?” asked Legolas who had brightened visibly at his friend’s words, and was obviously very interested in finding out more. Thranduil, on the other hand, was not.

“When I returned from Mithlond, Elrond warned me that my guards and his sons had become well acquainted and were likely up to some mischief. If that is the case, I prefer not to hear the details. Come, let us make haste and return to my Hall,” he said to his Steward. “I fear I must quickly send Elrond a suitable bottle of wine as a peace offering for the trouble that no doubt lies ahead. It would be most distressing if the bond of our renewed friendship was tested so soon,” he said, not entirely in jest. He had done as Elisiel asked and apologised for his unwarranted anger at his friend of old, but knew full well that it was possible that a conflict arising from their sons’ youthful exuberance could easily put them at odds again.

Legolas and Tathar merely grinned at each other, and followed at a far more leisurely pace so that they could discuss the Tathar’s trip to Imladris, and the wager, well out of the King’s hearing.

“First tell me how it is you met Elladan and Elrohir? Did they go to the Havens with you?” asked Legolas with false bravado at the mention of the reason for the journey.

“Nay, only the King and Queen, and Lord Glorfindel made the journey. The King’s Guard were ordered to await your adar’s return at Imladris,” Tathar explained with a great deal of compassion in his voice. Legolas raised his eyebrows in surprise at this information, but made no comment.  “Lord Elrond’s sons had only just returned from a scouting trip with some of the rangers and had seen the Queen kiss me goodbye. They mistakenly assumed that I was you,” he said, scoffing at the mistake.

“We have never met, so it would have been a natural assumption,” said Legolas with a shrug.

“So you have become a diplomat as well?” teased Tathar, earning himself a decidedly undiplomatic glare from his friend. “That could be to our advantage when we win,” he added thoughtfully.

“Win what, exactly?” asked Legolas, his curiosity piqued.

“Why the archery tournament, of course!” declared Tathar.

“Between Greenwood and Imladris, I assume?” Legolas enquired.

“Ai, and for good measure, Lothlórien as well. Elladan and his brother are arranging for some of the archers from the Golden Wood and Imladris to meet us on the Gladden Fields. Before you ask, the stakes are naught but the pleasure of forcing them to bow to our superior skill,” explained Tathar, full of confidence that Legolas alone could easily defeat the others if need be.

“The Gladden Fields? I do not believe either Adar or Lord Elrond would approve of that location, it is said that there are many small groups of Orcs roaming in those parts. The reports our scouts in the south have made confirm that several of the human villages have been attacked lately,” warned Legolas.

“I know. Similar reports have reached Imladris, and it is likely that Lord Celeborn would also not approve, but even if we are attacked, what better way to hone our fighting skills? There is no cause for concern, there will be many skilled warriors present,” argued Tathar, not expecting so much resistance to his plan, at least from Legolas.

“I still think it unwise, and how are we to convince Adar to allow us to go?” Legolas asked, knowing the King would likely forbid such a dangerous ‘amusement’.

“Lord Elrond informed him of the unrest in the south, and he plans to send several parties to warn the Beornings and the villages on our own borders. My patrol group will be one of those, all we need do is convince him that you are ready to join me,” Tathar said with a wicked wink.

“Surely you do not suggest I attempt to deceive the King?” asked Legolas, discomfited by the thought that his friend intended to be less than honest. It seemed that Tathar was changing too, and in a manner in which Legolas was not pleased to see.

“I doubt that you could, but you do need more experience on patrol. What harm is there in planning to meet scouts from other realms?” he asked.

“None, when you say it like that,” Legolas reluctantly agreed.

Thranduil initially resisted the notion strongly, until Tathar persuasively pointed out that, since Legolas’s recent experience had earned him the respect of his elders, perhaps the time was right for him to join the more experienced scouting party.

“Very well, I will permit it,” Thranduil finally agreed. “But be warned, Tathar, I sense there is more to this mission than you have told me. You will find me very unforgiving should Legolas or the others be placed in unnecessary danger,” he said sternly.

Unfortunately, Thranduil’s suspicions were well founded and the event turned out to be far more dangerous that even the King had anticipated.

The elves from Greenwood were the last to arrive, for Elladan and Elrohir had decided to personally issue the challenge to Haldir and Orophin, Lothlorien’s champion archers from the last tournament held in the Golden Wood.

“We will represent Imladris,” Elladan said to Tathar, indicating himself and his brother. “No doubt you and Legolas wish to do likewise for Greenwood?” he asked after introductions had been made.

“By all accounts, the pretty young prince should be able to best us all,” Orophin sneered.

“Ai, his reputation as a skilled archer has reached Lothlórien,” agreed Haldir as he glared at his brother who was well able to read the rebuke for such disrespectful words in the ice cold hardness of Haldir’s eyes.

“It is easily demonstrated,” said Legolas with an air of superiority, so confident was he in his own prowess. “Shall we set the targets?”

The six archers who were to compete soon agreed on the course, and the others in their respective parties eagerly gathered on the edge of the field to offer their support.  The elves from Imladris who had travelled to meet their Lord’s sons were disappointed to find Elladan and Elrohir were the first to be eliminated. The chagrin spread to the others as both Tathar and Orophin were eliminated shortly thereafter. However, there was no dispute about the fact that Legolas and Haldir were well matched, and clearly highly skilled. The scores were tied right until the last and most difficult of the targets were approached, and although Haldir accounted for himself well and missed only one, Legolas scored a perfect round. There was much cheering from the Greenwood patrol, and even a decent round of applause from the others who were pleased to see such skilful shooting.

By the time the competition was over, twilight had fallen, and the victors invited the vanquished to join in a typical woodland celebration. A large fire was lit in the centre of the field, and to everyone’s delight Elladan and Haldir had displayed presence of mind by bringing a supply of wine. As the stars rose to join them, the elves of the three realms indulged in a feast of lembas, fruit and wine as well as much merrymaking and tall tale telling.

None of the patrols had encountered so much as one Orc on their journey, and this knowledge, combined with the skill of the warriors present, imbued such a feeling of safety that not even the more experienced elves in the group deemed it necessary to set a watch. Such underestimation of danger proved to be a serious mistake for a large band of Orcs came upon them as they laughed and sang around the fire.

The elves were severely outnumbered, and despite their training, many of the warriors were injured before the battle was finally won. To Tathar’s dismay, Legolas had been slashed by a poisoned blade as he tried to defend his friend who had been knocked to the ground by a hard blow to the head. As Legolas had bent down to see if Tathar was harmed, he lost his concentration on the fight, and was easy prey for the Orc’s sword. Tathra saw the danger and pulled Legolas to the ground, preventing the blow from being fatal, but not from slashing a large gash down the younger elf’s arm.

“THIS is why the King would not permit us to train together,” he hissed the other Greenwood elves formed a protective circle around the King’s son and his friend. Tathar’s head ached, so he just lay there and held Legolas’s arm still until Elladan was free to come and bind the gash with a bandage coated in a medicinal herb he used as an antidote for Orc poison. Fortunately Elrond’s sons had learned sufficient about the art of healing to prevent the vile substance from spreading, as well as treat a   blow to the head, but Tathar knew he needed to see his friend and his injured comrades safely back in Greenwood, and with their own Healer, as soon as possible.

“Do you think Adar is going to be very angry with us?” whispered Legolas through teeth gritted with pain as Tathar, who had already mounted his horse, helped the injured elf up in front of him.

“I am sure he will be angry with me, but not you. It was my idea to come here,” replied Tathar grimly.

“Well, at least we won the tournament,” said Legolas managing a small smile before he drifted into unconsciousness.

“You won it, mellon nin,” whispered Tathar as he held Legolas tightly and urged his horse to go faster.

In fact, when the scouting party returned home, Thranduil was so furious with Tathar that he refused him permission to visit Legolas as he lay confined to his bed by the Healer. Never before had the halls of the palace echoed with words spoken in such anger between the King and the son of his friend, and although Legolas had heard of the discord, he was dismayed to learn that Tathar had been assigned to a mission in the north that would likely keep him from Greenwood for at least a year.

“You took a great risk coming here. If Adar catches you in my room, you might find yourself locked in the dungeon instead of merely banished to the north,” whispered Legolas as Tathar entered his chamber from the balcony, determined to see that his friend was well before he left.

“I know, and I should have heeded your advice about the tournament as well. I am ashamed of my behaviour, because of the untruth I told the King, but more so because I have diminished my standing in Thranduil’s eyes,” he said sadly.

“I am afraid you have hurt Adar deeply. Just as I consider you to be my brother, you are like a second son to him, I have always known it to be so,” said Legolas. “Do not give in to despair, for I also know that, in time, he will forgive you, just as he will forgive me although he is currently adamant that we will never serve together,” said Legolas.

“The King is angry with you? Why?” Tathar asked as he sat by the bedside and clasped his friend’s uninjured arm.

“Because I was party to the deception, and allowed you to sway me with your words against my better judgement. And because I was injured in the attack, and he feared he would lose me,” explained Legolas.

“I see. Well, it is likely he will not stay angry with you for long, as you say. Please take care of Mirieth for me while I am gone?” he entreated.

“Ai. I will miss you and I will look for your safe return,” said Legolas smiling affectionately at his friend.

“Namarie, mellon nin,” said Tathar disappearing the way he came.