It was ridiculous. Who created a main hall before creating homes for those who had followed them in their journey?
Night had fallen on the small encampment. Tents had gone up and small campfires littered the part of the valley closest to the rock face. The air was moist with an impending rain, but not so much so that they wanted to delay the creation of the main hall. By they, she meant her father, Haldir, and the other elves making up her father's council.
They had continued working into the night, insistent that this was an important part of building their new settlement. She understood that the group wanted somewhere to gather – somewhere to meet, where it was mostly private. But, there were so many other important things – like getting water up to the guards who watched over the mountain ridge, and the scouts that protected them.
"Look, I know it's a climb. Stay there tonight if you need to. But, I need to make certain they are prepped for," she said, loading a runner with a pack of food and drink.
"We can handle a shift," a voice said behind her. "No elf is so weak that they need food and water like a man. This has got to stop. You're wasting precious resources." Haldir came up to the runner. "Have you been up the mountain before?" he asked him.
"Yes. It's not a hard journey. I'll be back tonight," he said, giving her a short gesture of reverence before heading on his way.
She turned to Haldir, her dark blonde tresses coming out of their braid as her hair hung as limply as she felt tired. "Why must you dissent from me on everything?" she asked the question in her heart.
"It is not you I dissent from. But, you worry about nothing. Those elves were well provisioned when we sent them up there. You are wasting valuable resources." He turned towards the camp, and waited for her to do the same. "Those are the elves you need to focus on. The ones who stayed, who gave up their rations to the ones who went."
"It's a night shift, not a warzone," she reasoned. "Those above will come back below, and the next shift will also be provisioned."
He nodded at her logic. Simple logic. Healers logic. In times like these he was reminded that she was not a warrior. Not a soldier. And he reminded himself that a leader did not have to be either of those things. Merely respected. "I will attempt not to dissent from you in front of the others again," he stated.
"Were you a man, I'd ask if you are dying," she teased in a wry tone. One of the few who had journeyed that she would confidently call her friend, the two of them had a comfortable banter that had run between them for many years.
"I mean it, Delazia," he said, turning to her. "The others followed your father here. They will follow me in battle. But, you – you are someone they would die for. A leader that they trust to look out for them. Even if we don't need it." The last sentence was said quieter, more prideful than the others. "I should not voice my dissent in front of others. I will endeavor not to do it again."
But, he would do it again. Just as he had many times before. "Thank you." She accepted his words without contest. Not everything needed to be a fight. Not everything needed to be difficult. And, now, they needed to stand strong. For many trials were to come ahead, and that was if they could build up before the orcs found them.