Author's Note: I'm going to be out of town for a few days, and… Well, I had to get started on this before I left. As things stand, it'll be complete in five chapters, though I might change my mind about that later.

This comes directly after Doubt in the story arc, and it will help to have read at least that to understand this.

Summary: Legolas and his friends are accustomed to dealing with the perils of the battlefield. Navigating the intrigues of court will prove far more difficult.

The Art of Artifice

Part I: Whom to Trust

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Legolas could not help but smile as he dropped to the edge of the bed. Saeldur was notoriously terrified of healers. Legolas' second-in-command would face an Orc's blade without flinching, but it took three Elves to hold him down to be stitched up afterwards.

Or, in this instance, one Elf with enough experience to know how to handle him.

"Stop squirming," Legolas ordered, sliding a hand around Saeldur's shoulders to help him sit. "The sooner you let Feredir begin, the sooner it will be done and we can all return to our duties."

Saeldur looked around to make sure nobody but Legolas and Feredir was in the room before he let himself slump against Legolas' shoulder.

"This is your duty," he grunted. "Or is my prince telling me he has a more important duty than attending to warriors who have been grievously injured in his service?"

"You have a cut on your leg," Feredir said, unimpressed. "You will barely even feel it in two days. Hold him still, Legolas."

At the first prick of the needle, Saeldur's hand closed, painfully tight, around Legolas' forearm.

"Was that really so bad?" Legolas asked fifteen minutes later.

Saeldur's only response was a surprisingly strong smack aimed at Legolas' arm.

"If you can hit me that hard," Legolas said wryly, "you will be fit for patrols tomorrow."

"You will sit with him until Lord Belegur arrives?" Feredir asked. "I do not know about attending to grievously injured warriors, but listening to the complaints of archers who turn into children when they see the inside of a Healing Ward is your duty, not mine."

Legolas laughed. "I will stay with him."

"Good. I am leaving, then."

There was something in Feredir's voice that made Legolas glance at him sharply. But Feredir only shook his head in a manner that said clearly not now.

Saeldur waited for Feredir to leave the room before he sagged more heavily against Legolas' shoulder. Legolas felt a moment's concern, but it dissipated when Saeldur muttered, "Why is Feredir's needle ten times worse than any Morgul blade?"

"Because you are Legolas' brave and trusted second-in-command when facing Morgul blades and a pampered little Sindarin lordling in the Healing Wards," said a new voice.

Legolas rolled his eyes. Saeldur raised his head just enough to scowl at Voronwë before dropping it again.

"I would speak to you, Saeldur," Voronwë went on.

Legolas stiffened. He had spent most of that morning having a whispered argument with Eredhion and Voronwë – or, more precisely, being lectured by them on the subject of caution while he vainly attempted to talk sense. Four weeks ago Eredhion had unexpectedly entered Legolas' sitting-room in time to see Legolas drink a cup of wine Saeldur had poured for him. Nothing had happened, Legolas had not been taken violently ill, and the wine had not been poisoned. That was not enough to satisfy his guards.

He turned now to tell Voronwë this was neither the time nor the place, but Saeldur put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"What is it?" he asked, straightening.

Voronwë pulled up a chair to the other side of the bed. "I… I have been thinking. And… I think Legolas is right. I was wrong to doubt you. Forgive me."

Saeldur's eyes widened. He had not been expecting that. Neither had Legolas, but long years of sitting in Council helped him maintain a neutral expression.

"I would die before I let Legolas come to harm," Saeldur said at last.

"I know." Voronwë shook his head. "I… It is not that… It is not because Legolas trusts you. Legolas is entirely too trusting." Legolas pressed his lips together, his expression turning into an outright frown when Saeldur nodded agreement. "But… Well, you trust Legolas. It would be impossible for you to trust him if it were in your heart to betray him."

Saeldur let out a breath. "And Eredhion –"

"I agree," Eredhion said from behind Legolas. "We were wrong to doubt you, Saeldur. I –"

Saeldur shook his head, cutting off Eredhion's apology. "Considering how freely I was forgiven for a far greater wrong," he said, glancing at Legolas, "it would be churlish in me to bear a grudge now."

Eredhion smiled, but whatever else he had intended to say was interrupted by the entry of Rochendilwen and Aeroniel, who had just returned from patrol duty.

"I am told the guards in the corridor outside the royal quarters could hear you complaining, Saeldur," Aeroniel said by way of greeting. "I would not be surprised if travellers on the Forest Path heard you as well. How bad was it this time?"

Saeldur glared at her. "You might have a little consideration for my injury."

"We do," Rochendilwen assured him. "Colfind thinks it will be a week before you stop complaining about the stitches. I told him it would only be five days. I have a fine throwing knife hanging on your courage in the face of life-threatening injury –"

"Legolas!" Saeldur appealed. "You cannot allow them to mock me like this!"

Legolas laughed. "What my archers do and say when they are off duty is no concern of mine."

It was an hour before Lord Belegur arrived. Legolas handed Saeldur into his care, refusing his invitation to come and sup with them on the grounds of having too much work to do before the next day's War Council.

When he left the Healing Wards, though, it was not to his room or to his study he went, but outside to the talan Feredir shared with his sisters Melda and Calathiel.

Feredir was alone, which was a relief, but that he was there at all would have been unusual at any other time. At this hour Feredir was normally in the dining hall, or joining one of the many groups of Elves singing and making merry by the river. He was certainly not in the habit of staying home burying himself in thick volumes of philosophy.

"Is there a reason you are sitting here by yourself reading books even Mithrandir thinks are dull?" Legolas asked without preamble.

"At the moment I appear to be the only Elf who can stand my company," Feredir said, trying for a light tone. In response to Legolas' raised eyebrows, he continued, "Legolas, with what Calathiel is asking…" He turned away. "She has never lacked courage."

"No. She has not. Nor have you, Feredir."

"I have never had the stomach for battle. Legolas, even if the Council approved Calathiel's request, I could not… I could never…"

"Nobody would expect it of you."

"You mean you would not expect it of me. Nor would your father." Feredir sighed. "Do you know how many times I have heard myself spoken of as a coward since I gave up my sword?"

"Feredir –"

"In all the years since then, Legolas, I have not heard it as many times as I have in the last two weeks."

"You know it is not true. Why should you care what people say? Those who know you know you are no coward. Courage has nothing to do with battle."

Feredir laughed bitterly. "So says the finest archer in the Elven realms. But it is worse than that. If they were only speaking ill of me, I would not mind so much, but… They say it of my father as well."

"Lord Thorontur?" Legolas asked in bewilderment. "Why should they say it of him any more than they do of Maeglad or Lord Arbellason or my father? They all gave up active duty."

"Your father gave up active duty when he became King. Some might have criticized him nonetheless, but he gave us in his stead his son to be our warrior-prince." Legolas opened his mouth to protest, but Feredir forestalled him. "You are what you are, Legolas, and I do not blame you for it. But do you imagine it escapes notice that my father and I gave up warriors' duties at the same time?"

Legolas sighed. He felt bad for Feredir, but they had all learnt very young that court gossip would take its course regardless of anything they did or said.

"What does this have to do with Calathiel?" he asked.

"What do you think people will say when they learn that my sister is willing to go to battlefields as a healer, but that I will stay here, safely behind the gates of the stronghold?" Feredir made a helpless gesture. "You have no idea how I envy you, Legolas. Oh, I know Norgalad complains and Míron complains, but in the end… You have always been the son your father needed."

It was in a much more reflective mood that Legolas went to the archers' hall. He would be taking Saeldur's duty for the late patrol, but there were some things he had to do first.

On the way he stopped at the guard post, where one of Ellaurë's captains was the duty officer.

"Is there anything to report, Meluial?"

"One of the patrols found a pair of spiders," the elleth said. "They destroyed them, of course, and Lady Ellaurë has sent scouts to see if there is a nest."

"I hope not," Legolas murmured. "But I would not depend on that hope. The foul creatures multiply faster than we can cull them."

"Mithrandir came by. He was looking for you. I believe he has gone to the archery ranges now."

"I will speak to him. Thank you, Meluial."

He did indeed find Mithrandir at the ranges. The Wizard was watching the archers of the Home Guard. The light was beginning to fade, but they were still making a fair contest of it. While they were no match for Legolas' archers, they were skilled, and Mithrandir's eyes glinted with appreciation.

"My Elven-prince," Mithrandir said, smiling broadly when he saw Legolas. "I began to fear I would have to leave without seeing you."

"Do you mean to leave tonight?"

"I mean to leave this very hour. I must go south, to Lothlórien, and speak to its Lord and Lady." He raised a hand to forestall Legolas' question. "I know you have long wanted to see the Golden Wood, but it will not be Mithrandir who introduces you to the Lady Galadriel."

Legolas could feel laughter bubbling up despite himself. "Why not?"

"Because she has changed greatly in the days since Thranduil knew her. I believe you would quite like her if you met her now, and then your father would take my beard to trim his cloak." He tugged his own cloak more securely about his shoulders. "I have a favour to ask of you Legolas, both on my behalf and on that of… others with whom I have taken counsel."

"What favour, my lord?"

"I am no Elven-lord, Thranduilion. I want you to… keep watch. Radagast will speak to our friends among the birds and the beasts, of course, but if anybody might hear more than he does of what happens beneath these trees…"

"What am I to watch for?"

"When the time comes, if the time comes, the agents of the Enemy will be on the move. I do not know how, or where. You are an experienced warrior, Legolas. I do not doubt that you will know the difference between Orcs who are simply causing wanton destruction and Orcs… with a more sinister purpose. Listen, and watch, and if there is anything you think I should know…"

"I will get word to you."

"Tell Radagast. He will know where to reach me. Trust to no letters – not even if I am in Imladris."

Legolas' eyes widened. "Is all well in Imladris?"

"Oh, yes. You need not worry about that. But you should go there when you have time. Perhaps in the spring, when the snow melts in the High Pass. You can spend the summer there and return before winter makes the journey impossible. It will do you good."

"If I go in the spring…" Legolas shook his head. "I cannot leave at a time like this."

Mithrandir looked suddenly very serious. "Legolas, I know you are loyal to your father and his subjects, and I expect no less. You know I will not give you counsel, but… I am worried. I have fears I dare not utter here. They may never come to pass. But if they do, it may be that you can serve your people best… elsewhere. I would have you mentally prepared for that."

"Mithrandir." Legolas and Mithrandir both turned at the sound of the voice. The King stood a few feet away from them. "What are you telling my son?" he asked, drawing near.

The Wizard smiled. "Well is it said that there is one thing the Elven-king loves more than his gold."

Thranduil scoffed. "You have courage, to stand in my realm and repeat the idle chatter of Noldorin households. And you may help yourself to all the gold you can carry, with my goodwill, if that will buy me a promise that you will not involve Legolas in your schemes."

"A fair offer, but I think I must refuse. I have no use for gold, and I am very likely to require your son's help."

"I am certain the Noldo in Imladris can provide archers."

"He can, but he cannot provide Legolas."

Thranduil scowled. "It is well you are leaving, Mithrandir."

To spare Saeldur walking to Legolas' study (and, as Rochendilwen muttered, to spare everyone else the whining if he did), Legolas and his captains met in the clearing beside Belegur and Celephindeth's home. It was private, and they could count on being undisturbed – and unobserved.

"You have all had time to think about Calathiel's request," Legolas began when everyone had gathered, "and to speak to Calathiel and the other healers. The King intends to discuss it in tomorrow's meeting of the War Council."

"When does it go to court?" asked Rochendilwen.

"In four days' time, assuming nothing happens to delay it." Legolas looked around. "And now, what do you think?"

Colfind was the first to speak. "I think it is a good idea, if Calathiel, or any healer, can satisfy the weapons masters. She is not wrong in believing that lives might be saved – or at any least a good deal of pain spared."

He cast a glance at Saeldur as he finished, and the ensuing laughter lightened the sombre mood that had descended on them.

"I agree," offered Rochendilwen. "And as much for the healers' sakes as for the warriors'. Those who want to serve should have the chance. It is not for us to question their courage."

"It is not," said Aeroniel. "If I have any doubts at all, they are about whether any healers could be taught to use bows, or blades for that matter, well enough for self-defence. But that is a matter for the weapons masters. If a healer can learn enough to satisfy Lord Thorontur or Lord Maeglad…"

"It will be more than any of us has ever done," laughed Legolas. Then he turned to the one who had, so far, remained silent. "Saeldur?"

Saeldur's clear grey eyes met his. "No."

Legolas had been half-expecting that, as, by her slight shrug, had Aeroniel, but Rochendilwen and Colfind both looked surprised.

"Why not?" Colfind demanded.

"Because it is not a simple question of weapons training. Healers in the field will not be helping the warriors as much as they will be putting them at risk." Saeldur's eyes darkened. "Non-combatants do not belong on a battlefield."

There was a moment's silence.

It was broken by Rochendilwen. "Forgive me, Saeldur, but I must say this. We are not speaking of an awkward and ill-judged foray into a battlefield by one who is completely unprepared. If this is accepted by the King's Council, the healers will be trained, just as we were trained."

"Training cannot prepare you for a battlefield."

"They will be as prepared as we were."

"That is different." Saeldur glanced at Legolas. "Warriors are trained to obey their commanding officers in the field – always, without question, no matter what. Healers think first of their charges. It is good that they do, and I do not begrudge it. But tell me, what would Calathiel do if she were on the field, and you ordered her not to go to an injured warrior? What would any healer do?"

"No commanding officer would order such a thing without good reason," Legolas said mildly.

"No healer will accept such an order without argument. You know that as well as I do. It is not in them."

"You are being a little unfair," Aeroniel protested. "No healer has been given the chance yet. I imagine the lowest apprentice in the Healing Wards would consider himself fitter to decide how best to care for the injured than any member of the War Council, or for that matter the King. But even Barancrist would not dream of disobeying a warrior on duty outside the stronghold."

"Barancrist would not. Calathiel would."

"She is barely more than a child. She will learn." Aeroniel smiled. "I remember a young novice archer who chafed at every order, and on one of his first training expeditions decided to ignore his officer's orders altogether."

Saeldur smiled in response, though it seemed a little forced. "In my defence, the officer on duty that day deserved to have his orders ignored, and I am very glad that I did." He sighed. "I will not ask you not to support this in Council or in court, Legolas. If you think it is best… I trust you. Only… Promise me that nobody will be allowed to ride with the archers unless they are ready. In every way."

"I would have said that in any case. Even if Council and court both permit this, nobody will ride with the archers unless we are all in agreement about the specific individual."

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