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Part II: Crisis
Thranduil
Legolas is late when he stumbles into my study for the meeting of the War Council, but one sight of his face is enough to make any rebuke die on my lips. He looks pale, drawn, and weary beyond all belief.
Thorontur, without a word, pushes him into a chair, and nods for Îdhron to continue his report.
The meeting is brief. There is little to be said, with most of the Council members absent. The court is chafing at the restrictions on movement, but that is not relevant to the warriors, and I certainly do not want to burden them with it. I would not even tell Legolas and Îdhron about it if I had a choice. There is a reason the War Council meets in private.
When it is over and Îdhron has left, Legolas does not move. Thorontur and Arbellason, exchanging a glance, move to chairs on either side of him.
Legolas lets out a breath.
"I take it Saeldur has spoken to you."
"He has spoken to Celephindeth," Thorontur says grimly. "And she has spoken to him. In full hearing of half the court."
Legolas groans. "How bad is it?"
"That depends," Arbellason tells him. "How bad is Celephindeth telling Saeldur that she always knew you were not to be trusted and that perhaps he should consider requesting a different commanding officer?"
Legolas flinches, and Thorontur glares at Arbellason.
"It is not as bad as it sounds," I say gently, coming around the table to crouch before Legolas. "You and Saeldur have been friends for centuries. Give him time."
"I thought at least Lady Celephindeth would be pleased I have kept him from battle," Legolas mutters unhappily.
It is Thorontur who answers, one hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Elfling, I doubt there is anything you can do to please Celephindeth while she is determined to hate you. All you can do at the moment is wait."
"Do you think I should let Saeldur return to duty?"
"Do you think you should let Saeldur return to duty?" I ask.
Legolas shakes his head. "He is not ready."
"Then that is your answer."
"And for what it is worth," Arbellason says, "I agree with you, Legolas. Grief aside, I would not recommend putting Saeldur in the field again until you are certain he is ready to take orders. Debate is all very well in court, but the battlefield is not the place for it."
"It might help him to be active, though," Thorontur says thoughtfully. "He will be happier if he has less time to brood. If you think it suitable, Legolas, you can ask him to take the novices on their training rounds. It is as safe as anything can be, and they need not go too far outside the stronghold."
"Do you think that is wise?" Arbellason asks.
"I think, as I told Celephindeth again today, that it is Legolas' decision and not mine. But I also think that Saeldur has too much free time and he is spending most of it in the company of Arahael and his group of troublemakers. Celephindeth is only angry, but Arahael truly would jump at any opportunity to foment sedition."
"Why is Arahael even here?" I ask. "Should he not be at the border with Bercalion and the Southern Guard?"
"Bercalion would not say it outright, but I believe he thinks Arahael causes less trouble in the stronghold than at the border," Arbellason says dryly.
"In any case," Thorontur says, clapping a hand to Legolas' knee, "do not worry about Saeldur more than you must, Elfling. I think all he wants is reassurance that you value his skill and his counsel. If you knew how much your father and Arbellason and I quarrelled when we were your age…"
Legolas
The more I think about it, the more I feel Lord Thorontur has the answer. I cannot send Saeldur on regular patrols, but taking the novices out will give him something to do, and may hasten his return to his normal duties.
I have not spoken to him since he stormed out of my study. He has been avoiding me, and I thought it was best to give him time to calm down.
I wonder now if that was a mistake. Both of us know better than to argue before the warriors, and, to give Saeldur his due, he has not said a word about any of it in public. But the warriors are not fools, and they know when we are at odds. It must be even more clear to them now, without Aeroniel to smooth things over and divert attention.
Nobody has shown signs of insubordination – praise be to Elbereth, I could not have dealt with that in addition to everything else – but they are restless.
Saeldur is not in his room in the warriors' quarters. I was not expecting him to be, but I hoped to avoid meeting Lady Celephindeth.
There is no help for it.
Lady Celephindeth and Lord Belegur live on the other side of the stronghold from the warriors' quarters. I am grateful for the time it takes me to walk there. I need every second of it to steel myself for what lies ahead.
When I knock, it is Saeldur who answers the door. I try not to look too relieved.
"What do you want, Legolas?" Saeldur asks.
I had hoped for a better reception than that. Apparently he does not plan to make this easy for me.
"I wanted to speak to you."
He eyes me for a moment, and then he shrugs, backing away from the door to let me enter. He leads me into the sitting room, motions me to a chair, and says, "Very well. Speak."
"Saeldur, we… Lord Thorontur and I…"
"If you are going to blame Thorontur for your decisions –"
"I am sorry. I misspoke. I want you, if you feel ready, to take the novices on their training rounds outside the stronghold."
"You want me to take the novices on their training rounds."
"I would be grateful."
"Why? Were you and Lord Thorontur feeling sorry for me? Are you trying to let me feel useful? How long did it take you to think of something completely safe for me to do?"
"Saeldur, please –"
"I am a warrior, Legolas! I am not a nursemaid, and I do not need a nursemaid. When you have accepted that, tell me so."
I sigh and get to my feet. "I assume, then, that you will not be taking the novices out."
"I will not be accused of insubordination, my prince."
I wince. "Saeldur –"
"Make it an order, and I will go. But do not stand here expecting me to thank you for proving, again, that you think me incapable." He draws a furious breath. "I do not want to lead children around the forest as though I were an Elfling playing Esgalorne. But if you insist on it, I will have no choice. Order me to go, and I will."
I shake my head. "I would make you do nothing against your will, Saeldur."
I turn to go, and find myself faced with a furious Lady Celephindeth.
"My lady." I bow formally.
"Leave, Legolas," she says, her voice trembling with anger. "Leave. Now."
Thranduil
For the first time in weeks, the War Council will meet in its rightful location. There are still empty chairs, but Maeglad returned to the stronghold last night, and Ionwë and Mídhaer this morning, so there are enough of us to justify using the larger room.
Thorontur and Legolas enter first, together. A glance is enough to tell me that Saeldur did not take kindly to Thorontur's idea.
"He refused?" I ask.
"He said I would have to make it an order if I wanted him to do it, and made it clear that even then it would be done under duress."
"Quite frankly, Legolas, I think you should have made it an order. Do not let your friendship for Saeldur cloud your judgement… That said, this is unlike Saeldur," Thorontur comments, frowning. "Maybe Celephindeth has –"
"No," I say firmly. "Celephindeth might not be very fond of Legolas at the moment, but she would not actually push Saeldur to insubordination."
"It was not insubordination," Legolas points out. "I did not order him to do anything."
"No, but he put you in a difficult position," Thorontur says. "Either to let him refuse or to force him to do something against his will. Saeldur would normally never dream of refusing anything you asked of him, certainly not on the grounds that it was not sufficiently interesting. And he has let the archers sense his discontent."
"They have not let it affect them."
"You think so, Legolas, because they still heed you without question. You do not realize how much the young archers admire you; it would take far more than an argument with Saeldur to make them treat youwith anything but respect. They will not extend the same courtesy to everyone."
Before I can demand an explanation, the door opens and the others come in.
Arbellason's grave expression sends all worries about Saeldur out of my head.
"I have had word from Ellaurë," he announces without preamble, not even waiting for everyone to sit. "She and Bercalion need reinforcements. Immediately."
Legolas
"They need archers," Arbellason goes on, looking at me. "Legolas, I know you cannot spare many –"
"Take them off patrol," Mídhaer cuts in. "As many as you need, Legolas. Ionwë and I can handle the patrols. At the moment the archers are needed more urgently at the southern border."
I nod. Slowly. "I will send them, but only the most inexperienced archers are here now. The rest are with Aeroniel and Colfind. I can recall them, but –"
"No," my father says. "Their mission is too important to cut short. Send whatever warriors you can, but do not recall Aeroniel or any that are with her. When do you expect her to return?"
"In a week, perhaps ten days."
"And Ellaurë?" he asks, turning to Arbellason.
"That depends on how quickly they can turn the tide. And for that they must have archers. Your archers," he adds, nodding at me. "They do not need defenders. They need a force that can make sorties and harry the Orcs until they are forced to retreat."
"How many does she need?"
"As many as you can possibly send her… And, Legolas, go now. Unless someone has something important to discuss that needs Legolas' attention?" He looks around and receives shakes of the head from everyone. "Very well, then. Go now, Legolas, and start working it out. I want them ready to ride at first light tomorrow."
"Yes, my lord."
I scramble to my feet and hurry out, sending a page running for Saeldur and Rochendilwen before I go to my study.
Rochendilwen is with me in a few minutes. Close on her heels comes the page, who hesitates in the doorway, looking at me with apology and a hint of fear.
"What is it?" I ask. "Could you not find Lord Saeldur?"
"I found him, Prince Legolas, but he says…"
"What?" Rochendilwen demands impatiently. "Is he busy?"
"He says he must oversee the novices on the archery field and he will have no time to spare for anything else until someone relieves him."
"Thank you. You may leave," I say, before Rochendilwen can ask any questions.
When the page has gone, shutting the door behind him, she turns to me. "Legolas? What?"
"Saeldur is unhappy about –"
"About being taken off duty. I know. Everyone in the stronghold knows. I would not be surprised if everyone in Imladris, Lothlórien and Mithlond knows. That is no reason to throw a tantrum. Why are you letting him? His duties are not a matter of choice! If he did not want to take orders, he should not have sworn his warrior's oaths."
"What choicedo I have? He will not speak to me, Lady Celephindeth does not even want to look at me –"
"Lady Celephindeth may do as she pleases. Saeldur is sworn to obey you."
"I have never forced anyone to obey me. I do not want to start now." I shake my head. "I do not want to start with Saeldur."
"You have never forced him to do anything. He chose to be an archer. He asked to be your second." Rochendilwen's hand finds my shoulder. "We are your friends, Legolas, and we will always be your friends, but we also swore to obey you as our commanding officer. You cannot let this pass."
"I will speak to him," I promise. "Once we have sent the archers to Ellaurë."
"Do it."
"I will."
Rochendilwen nods, not entirely satisfied, and reaches for the day's duty roster.
Thranduil
When Arbellason, Thorontur and I go to Legolas' study after the War Council, we find him, with Rochendilwen, going over the patrol lists.
I pause a moment in the doorway, studying them. It never ceases to amaze me that Legolas and Rochendilwen have found the ease of their old friendship, after everything that has happened. I have forgiven her, yes, but I could never have trusted her as willingly as Legolas does.
"Are you ready?" Arbellason asks.
"We will be ready. The archers in the stronghold have been told not to leave, and the ones on patrol will be told as they come in."
"Who is leading them?" Arbellason pauses and glances at Legolas. Legolas nods, indicating that he can speak freely before Rochendilwen, and Arbellason goes on. "What of Saeldur? This is safe enough, and Ellaurë or Bercalion can assume command as soon as he gets there. He can lead them there and come straight back."
Legolas and Rochendilwen exchange a glance, and my breath catches. Something has happened.
"What is it?" Thorontur demands, noticing the look.
"I do not think it is wise to ask this of Saeldur, my lord," Legolas says.
Rochendilwen follows that with, "I will take the archers south. It would be better if Legolas did, perhaps, but he has already asked for Feredir's permission and been refused."
Arbellason's mouth is a thin line. "Why not Saeldur?" Legolas and Rochendilwen look at each other again, but neither of them speaks. "Legolas," Arbellason says sharply, "as commander of the army I demand an answer. That is an order. Why not Saeldur?"
Legolas' cheeks are crimson. "He will certainly not go unless I make it an order, my lord," he says softly. "And at the moment I do not know if he will go even if I do. I believe I have handled the situation ill." He ducks his head. "But if you truly want him to go, I doubt he would refuse you."
Arbellason's eyes are blazing. "I should like to see him try to refuse me," he growls. "But that is hardly the point. I have made plenty of allowances for Saeldur's grief, but if he cannot obey his commanding officer, he has no place among my warriors."
Legolas looks alarmed. "Lord Arbellason –"
"I do not want to create further difficulties for you, Legolas," Arbellason says. "But I cannot allow him to continue as your second if this persists. Your archers are our strike force. One way or another, Saeldur is going to stop spreading discontent among them. If he wants to complain about how the War Council knows nothing about battle, he can do so in court, not in the warriors' halls."
"But –"
"No, Legolas. I understand that he is grieving. That was why he was taken off duty, so that he could grieve in peace. I will not have him upsetting my archers. And there will be no argument."
Legolas bows his head unhappily. "Yes, my lord."
"Rochendilwen!"
"Yes, my lord?"
"Have the archers ready to leave at dawn. Legolas, send someone to tell Saeldur I want to see him in my study after dinner."
Legolas
It is with considerable relief that I lay my hands on the huge double doors emblazoned with a bow crossed by two long knives. It is well past midnight, and it has been an eventful day. At least in the hall of the Colhador I am hopeful of finding some peace.
With most of the archers away, it is only half full. There are a few Elves sparring on mats in the centre of the room. Most of them are fletching arrows or polishing knives. Some are gathered around Rochendilwen, who is explaining the new schedule.
The warriors nod as I pass them, standing a little straighter, as they always do. But there is an undercurrent of tension running through them. I can sense it.
Rochendilwen meets my eyes without pausing in her conversation. She looks worried –
No. Not worried. Desperate.
As I walk by her to the small council room at the other end of the hall, she tells the archers to prepare to leave, follows me, and shuts the door behind her.
"What?" I ask.
"Legolas… I do not think they will be ready in the morning."
"What?"
"They think I am trying to take Saeldur's place and they resent it."
"But – that is – no. They would not refuse a direct order."
"They will not refuse a direct order from you. At the moment, though, I am certain they will refuse any orders I try to give them. You can tell them to follow me…"
"But what will you do when you are leagues from the stronghold and I am not there to order them?" I finish her thought. "Elbereth! I never thought…"
"I am sorry," she says, distressed.
"You are not to blame. I just wish –"
I cut myself off when the door opens. Saeldur comes in, slamming it shut so hard I can feel the walls tremble.
"Did you not have the courage to do it yourself?" he hisses, pushing me back against the wall and holding me there with both hands. "Hiding behind Arbellason this time instead of Thorontur?"
"Saeldur!" Rochendilwen snaps. "Are you out of your mind?"
Looking into Saeldur's eyes, I think that, perhaps, he is. I have never seen him so furious. His arms are hard and unyielding against my ribs. I can feel stitches break and the sudden dampness of blood under my tunic.
"Saeldur." I fight to keep my voice steady, but from the way his eyes narrow I know I am failing. "Release me. Now."
He only presses harder. "Lord Arbellason has suspended me indefinitely. Do you know what that means, Legolas?"
"Saeldur –"
"It means I do not take your orders. Arahael was right –"
"You have been letting Arahael tell you his lies?" I demand incredulously. I knew somebody was talking to him and planting worries in his mind, but Arahael? He has been listening to a known troublemaker? "Saeldur, whatever he told you –"
"Deny it," he growls. "Deny it if you dare."
"What did he tell you?" I demand. "That I do not trust you? That I see you as a threat?" Something flickers in Saeldur's eyes, and I gasp in sudden realization. "He told you I saw Candnaur as a threat." Saeldur's arms push harder, constricting my breathing. "And you believed him?"
"What else am I to believe?" Saeldur's voice is frighteningly calm now. "Is that why you let him stay in camp, Legolas? Were you hoping he would be taken?"
All desire to fight goes out of me at those words. I cannot believe Saeldur – Saeldur, one of my closest friends – believes that of me.
"Saeldur!" Rochendilwen is on him, pulling him off. "This has gone far enough!"
"You!" Saeldur turns on her. "You trust her, Legolas? You do not trust me, but you trust a traitor?"
Rochendilwen warns me to silence with a glance.
"You are right," she tells Saeldur calmly. "I did once betray the King's trust. And this I can tell you, Saeldur: you are not thinking clearly now, but if your actions cause harm to Legolas, or to the realm, or to anything you hold dear, you will never forgive yourself. Remember that."
Saeldur, wrenching himself away from her, storms out.
Rochendilwen glances at me, frowning at the blood now spreading on my tunic.
"Go to the healers, Legolas. I can deal with this."
Thranduil
"If that wretched Dwarf-brained Arahael has put Saeldur up to this," Thorontur snarls, "I will have him exiled to Rhûn."
I glance up at him. "We can hardly exile him for expressing an opinion, no matter how ludicrous." Legolas hisses softly as the needle goes in, and I tighten the arm I have around him. "Easy, Elfling. How bad is it, Feredir?"
"For a half-healed injury that was torn open?" A half-smile flickers across Feredir's face. "Not as bad as it could have been, my king. It will keep him from patrols a few days longer. Are you having any difficulties breathing, Legolas?"
"No," Legolas grunts.
"You did well to wake me at once."
"Rochendilwen insisted."
"Rochendilwen is sensible." Feredir ties off the last stitch, snips the thread, and motions to Thorontur to give him the bandages on the table. "I will send for Voronwë and Eredhion to see you back to your room. Rest."
"He is right, Legolas," Thorontur says as he helps Feredir wrap the bandage and pull Legolas' tunic down over it. "Rest. At least for a day or two. Let Rochendilwen handle the archers."
"Drink this," Feredir orders, holding a cup to Legolas' lips.
Legolas grimaces, but for once he does not protest, obediently swallowing the draught. A few moments later, he slumps more heavily into my arms, eyes glazing over.
"Let him be," Feredir says, helping me lower Legolas to the pillows. "He will awaken in an hour or two, and he can go back to his room after that."
He leaves, but Thorontur stays with me to watch over Legolas' dreams.
Some time later, Legolas has just woken and is sitting up when Arbellason comes in, followed by Rochendilwen, Eredhion and Voronwë. Arbellason and my son's guards look grave; Rochendilwen looks like she will burst into tears any moment.
She stumbles to the bed and collapses onto the edge of it.
"I am sorry," she says, voice shaking. "I am so, so sorry, Legolas."
Legolas frowns. "What is it?"
"The archers say they will not follow her," Arbellason says. His voice is shaking as well. I can read the barely-suppressed rage in it. "In fact, they insist they will do nothing until we reinstate Saeldur."
I stare at him. "They cannot refuse their duties!"
"They have refused. Elbereth!"
Legolas shakes his head. "Did Saeldur ask this of them? He would never have done!"
"Not on his own." Thorontur's voice is grim. "But he and Arahael have been in and out of the warriors' halls, and Arahael knows how to twist words."
"That is not important now," Arbellason snaps. "We have other worries. I cannot give in to this blackmail, we cannot give in to it, but Ellaurë needs help." He turns to my son. "Legolas. You know the archers, and Saeldur, better than any of us. Is there anything we can do? They must ride at first light."
Involuntarily, we all glance at the window, at the sky that has already begun to brighten.
"Legolas?" Thorontur asks.
Legolas ducks his head for a moment. I can feel him trembling, but then he straightens, back stiff under my hand.
"They will ride at first light, my lord. I promise you that." He turns to Rochendilwen. "Get ready, get your weapons and your horse, and be at the gate."
She nods and hurries out.
"Legolas?" Voronwë asks.
Legolas meets his eyes. "Bring me my bow."
TBC
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