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On Rare Occasions

Chapter 3 - Early One Spring Morning….

The soft wind toying with the branches high above me whispered of the return of life after winter's dark night. Birds were twittering merrily, and even the murmur of the river behind the long row of hawthorn bushes that marked the boundary of the king's garden seemed to be part of the peaceful song of spring that engulfed me. With its carpet of wood anemones bathed in the rays of a kindly afternoon sun, the forest did not seem to deserve its unflattering name of 'Mirkwood', and there was no better place to be than the king's garden on such a fine day.

I felt quite grateful towards the unknown kind soul who had decided that I should be assigned to loosening the soil out here instead of burdening me with yet another dull round of scrubbing the dungeon stairs or the like. But then, the last few days had been considerably better than the previous weeks, as they had brought what I had been longing for ever since the beginning of winter, a small measure of true freedom and the privilege of being alone.

Humming to myself, an old tune of Nargothrond that spoke of longing for a fair maiden and waiting for her beneath the budding leaves, I felt a slight pang of guilt, for I would not have been on my own and as free as I felt if Mordil had not been gone, undertaking his sad annual journey south, to be with elves who were no more, in a place that was no more, scratching open a wound that had never properly healed instead of letting the past rest.

But this glorious afternoon, the first bright day after a rainy week, did not lend itself to morose thoughts, and it would have been a crime to let remorse at something I was not responsible for cloud my enjoyment of an idyll so perfect that one could have suspected that Eru Himself was smiling at us just then…

"I am very glad to see you, Master Alagaith! Very glad indeed!"

Raising my head at this greeting, I found myself looking up into the smiling face of someone who was most definitely not Eru.

"Good afternoon, Master Galion." Even though I returned his smile politely, I had no idea what brought the royal butler here and why he was so obviously pleased to see me. While I had not been treated unkindly by the wood-elves so far, they had good reason to remain somewhat suspicious and distant, so being greeted with this most peculiar mixture of joy and relief was more than strange.

"Good afternoon indeed." Whatever Galion planned to do in the king's gardens obviously involved his remaining standing right in front of me and plucking at his sleeves like a nervous elfling. After a while, he finally spoke, hesitantly and throwing about worried glances. "I...that is, I have a ..." He looked around yet again, as if he suspected a listener to be hiding in the hawthorn bushes. I could not help deciding that Galion would have made a lousy conspirator. "I have a favor to ask of you," he finally said.

This was not quite what I had expected. "And what 'favor' might that be?"

Galion was silent for a moment yet again. "Ah, well, it is a matter of...well, that is, you see...you have heard of the sword fighting competition, have you not? It is something we all look forward to after a long winter and not much activity...that is, well, I look forward to watching it, and was quite anticipating it as I make my special cakes just for it, and well...but this year...well..."

He had begun fidgeting with his sleeve again, and, as if realizing that this was not a proper gesture for a dignified butler, finally opened his fingers to release the tormented cloth. Only a moment later, he was busy twirling a strand of hair around his finger and rambled on: "Well, this year, someone...or someones if I am not mistaken, have placed my name on the list of competitors...I am a butler! Not a warrior, and while I wield a sword when I must, I do not wield it well enough to embarrass myself in front of the court as Master Tanglinna did when he fought you...Well, yes, he did actually embarrass himself as the sword is not his chosen weapon either." As if he had told me more than he had originally intended to say, he paused before he concluded: "I am most distressed."

This last statement was visibly true.

According to what I had been able to glean from some overheard conversations, the sword fighting competition was quite a prestigious affair, not as important as the yearly archery contest, of course, but still enough of an event to draw much attention. Even those living in the outlying regions of Mirkwood would travel to Gladaran Thamas to watch it, and as far as I knew, some of the very finest warriors of the wood-elven realm took part in it.

If Galion's name had found its way onto the list of participants without his doing, he was in a most unfortunate situation indeed, but while I pitied him, I did not understand what he expected me to do now. Did he want me to help him find out who was behind this? Or had he deluded himself into believing that he could persuade me to take part in some silly revenge plot?

"So some people played a trick on you and placed your name on that list without your knowledge?" I finally began. "That is most unpleasant indeed. Who would do such a thing? And...How can I help you?"

The butler hesitated a bit, but finally, he spoke. "Well, I do not know for certain who put my name on the list, but I suspect" – leaning closer to me, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper – "the king's youngest child and his troublesome friends. They are always pulling pranks, even at their age, and they probably found it amusing to place my name on the list. But," – here he frowned, plucking at his sleeve once more – "I would like you to help me...help me at least not look the fool in the contest. I do not expect to win, of course, but... I could take my name from the list, but that would perhaps make me appear cowardly, and I am not a coward, merely not the best swordsman in Mirkwood. I know what I excel at and it is not that."

While it did not surprise me at all that young Legolas and his friends were the prime suspects for the heinous crime – a mere week ago, my father had claimed he had seen those three scoundrels trying to hide a muskrat in the king's study, and there had been that infamous orc helmet incident shortly after I had been released from the dungeons – Galion's request did, and now that it was out, he appeared even more worried and insecure than before, as if he fully expected me to refuse.

I had no intention of doing so, but I was still puzzled. "You would like me to give you sword fighting lessons?" Why me, the former thief, the stranger? There were two very fine swordmasters in Mirkwood, after all, and probably more than enough warriors who could have helped him as well.

Galion misunderstood the intent of my question. "I assure you, I will do my best. I will try my hardest to do as you say." He sounded a bit imploring, as if I were his only hope indeed.

I shook my head a little. "Do not worry... I am certain you would make a very fine swordsman indeed." I was not certain at all, but it would have been cruel to discourage him. He seemed to have the will to do something about his sword fighting skills, and that was more than could be said of others. "I merely wondered why you believe I would make a good teacher. What about the swordmasters? They could probably show you all you need to know, and..." I grinned and finished with a shrug: "Well, you know them."

I had not meant to embarrass the poor butler with my words, but he flushed a bit and looked highly uncomfortable. "I fear that I could never learn anything from Vardamar. He is...rather stern and sometimes impatient. I fear I would not thrive under his tutelage. As for Thinruth, well, I fear he would merely spend the time trying to convince me to change my dress. You see," – he swept his hand over his immaculate uniform that was a far cry from what Thinruth would have worn indeed – "our tastes differ even on the matter of how a king's butler should dress. And besides," he continued with a sigh, "I saw how you fought with Master Tanglinna. You are very good and very patient, well, one would have to be, hm, to put up with his very, um, martial fighting style." A timid smile came to his face. "Hack and bash and all that. No elegance, but then he wielded the sword in battle, not for fun, and I do want to look like I know what I am doing."

He looked so miserable again that I would not have had the heart to send him away even if his case had been far more hopeless than he made it sound. I was not certain if the king would be pleased that the wicked Noldorin thief was about to wield a weapon in his forest, but perhaps, he would never find out, and even if he did, Galion and I could certainly convince him that I had meant no harm.

So I smiled encouragingly and decided: "We can at least try. If you come to the clearing by M- -" – well, Mordil's – "Master Tanglinna's house this evening after dinner, we can have a first lesson." Actually, I was beginning to look forward to this unexpected opportunity at a bit of swordplay, even though I knew I would probably have to be patient with the butler indeed. "But, Master Galion? I may sound like Thinruth now, but you should wear something else when fencing. One tends to get dirty and sweaty, and there can always be small accidents... I would hate to ruin your... official attire."

Galion laughed, as much with relief as with amusement. "Oh, I know that, Master Alagaith. Never fear, I shall come suitably attired...and I will procure some weapons. Thank you so very much!" Clasping my hand, he gave me a happy smile, and I concluded that I would at least have an eager student, if not the most talented or self-assured one Mirkwood had to offer.

"Until this evening, then... - Oh, but can you tell me where I might find young Brethil? I just remember I... have a message for him." This was not entirely a lie, as I meant to ask these young fools if they were guilty of what Galion suspected them of indeed and, if so, to tell them that what they had done to the butler had been less than kind. Brethil was the one of them who seemed most capable of compassion and some measure of empathy, and so, I hoped I would be able to make him understand that this seemingly harmless prank had undercurrents of inflicting serious ridicule and humiliation to someone who had not done anything to deserve being turned into laughingstock.

If Galion suspected what I had in mind, he did not disapprove. "Brethil, hm? Well, I saw the three of them headed for grove near the river...I believe they were...well, what they are usually doing. Young ladies or wicked plans, hm?" He smiled. "Until this evening then." With this, he actually bowed slightly, a gesture that surprised and pleased me almost more than his request, and hurried away.

Still smiling at this unexpected kindness, I bent down to gather up the gardening tools and moved to put them away in the small cave where they were kept. I could return later to finish my work here. First, I would do what had to be done and talk some sense into these imbecile younglings, hopefully without finding myself forced to grab the prince by the collar to shake him; Thranduil would hardly have approved of that.

The grove near the river, lush and green at this time of the year, resounded with the clatter of wooden sticks. All three of the young elves were there indeed, Tavor involved in a mock duel with Legolas, while Brethil was watching calling encouragements to them both.

Seen from afar, they almost seemed like elflings at play, not like young warriors who had already seen at least one grim battle, but I did not intend to let the fact that they could look quite endearing deter me.

"Your posture is sorely lacking, Master Tavor," I called instead as I strode towards them. "An Orcish scimitarman would have cut off your nose by now."

Apparently, they had not heard me approach before I had made my presence known, for all three of them were startled, none more than Tavor, who was surprised enough to let down his guard completely, unfortunately at the wrong time, for Legolas – astonished as well – did not halt the movement of his stick in time. With a satisfying thud, it collided with Tavor's nose.

Tavor seemed to be more outraged than damaged, and his angry cry of "Legolas!" actually made me grin a bit as soon as I was certain that both of his eyes were still in place.

Both of Tavor's companions were more worried than I was and had moved to stand beside him. "I am sorry, Tavor," Legolas proclaimed before turning to look at me. "Is something wrong, um, Master Alagaith?" At least he was a polite princeling.

I moved another step towards them. "Yes, something is wrong indeed." Folding my arms, I surveyed the three of them, hoping that I managed to copy my father's most impressive 'stern Noldorin warrior' glare, or even to enhance it by the fact that I had only one eye left and could look a bit daunting at the best of times. "And I am not talking about your questionable sword fighting skills."

The whack on his nose had obviously not been enough to teach Tavor some humility. "Questionable? Questionable?" He puffed up. "My skills are not questionable. You merely...startled me and I .. I faltered."

"You were already faltering, Tavor," Brethil reminded him, probably rather too honestly for Tavor's taste.

Legolas sighed. "What is wrong, ah, Master Alagaith?"

For one moment, I was almost swayed by his tone of innocent sincerity; perhaps Galion had been mistaken, and they were not the perpetrators at all? Valar knew I had been suspected of misdeeds I had never committed entirely too often, so perhaps, I was wronging these younglings now as I had often been wronged? But then, I also knew one could look innocent if one was not, and asking could not hurt. "It would appear you put your skills with a quill to ill use not long ago. Would you happen to remember that - signing a name that is not your own?"

All three of them frowned and exchanged puzzled glances that could have fooled me, but then, Tavor smiled a bit, and Brethil's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh," he began. "You mean putting Master Galion's name on the list of competitors, don't you? I told you, Legolas, that was not very nice. If Galion had wished to enter then he would have placed his own name on the list."

Tavor sighed in exasperation. "He is a...tolerable fighter, Brethil. We were...doing him a favor." I wondered if they had used this excuse to talk Brethil into taking part in their scheme in the first place.

Legolas remained silent for a moment, looking more concerned than his two companions. When he finally spoke, he sounded resigned, as if he knew what was coming. "I suppose you wish me to tell my father to remove Galion's name...only," – a pained look entered his face – "I suppose the Swordmasters have the list now, and I don't think that Master Vardamar will be very ...happy...with us or Galion if..." He had the grace to look ashamed, and I almost felt sorry for the pranksters. They were rather thoughtless than truly wicked, and I could not imagine that they had meant Galion any real harm.

"If my name has to stay on there so does his," Tavor muttered, looking mildly upset; perhaps he thought that I was about to remove the one person he could probably beat from the list.

I sighed a bit, feeling that the anger with which I had set out to growl at them was fading quickly. "I am not going to tell on you, if this is what you fear. However, I hope you are aware of the consequences of your childish prank, more worthy of elflings barely in their twenties than of young warriors. I know that, at your age, it is easy to be foolish and thoughtless and to assume that those who are neither esteemed warriors nor fair maidens have no pride and honour that can be hurt, but rest assured, it is not so."

All three managed to look abashed. Tavor was dragging his stick over the grass, not meeting my gaze, while Brethil finally nodded. "We are too old to be as foolish as we are," he agreed, sounding sincere, even though I suspected that this moment of common sense would only last until the next opportunity at mischief presented itself.

Legolas looked as if he were not feeling well at all, and perhaps he was not; he was the king's son, after all, and should have exhibited some maturity and noble-mindedness instead of getting into this kind of trouble. "We will apologize to Galion, Master Alagaith. But," he glanced at his companions, "what should we do? Do we go to Vardamar ourselves and... tell him that Galion did not put his name on the list? He might be more inclined to be gracious to Galion if the truth were known."

"You can certainly try to do so." I shrugged; I would not have liked to face an enraged Vardamar myself, and these three were still young enough to remember the swordmaster as someone in authority over them who had probably taught them not so long ago. "Or, of course, you could just steal the list and burn it... But in any case, I believe it may already be too late. If I were you, Master Tavor, I would just hone my swordfighting skills... and cry for the Valar's assistance."

I was probably grinning rather too much, but after having seen Tavor's comparatively meagre prowess with a sword, I was not so uncertain any more that I could turn Galion into a fighter able to beat at least one or two of the other contestants.

Tavor looked aghast, but Brethil nodded, as if my veiled predictions did not surprise him at all. "Galion will do quite well. He did slay that warg single-handedly when Master Tanglinna was wounded and helpless, and they were lost in the snow. Though I find it hard to believe that Master Tanglinna was helpless." Now, this was an interesting story; I would have to ask Mordil about it when he was back.

Tavor snorted a bit. "He appeared helpless when he was fighting Master Alagaith," he said with a smirk, but it was short-lived enough, and he sighed. "As helpless as I will look. My daernaneth will be so embarrassed by me. I know she put my name on that list." He looked very unhappy now, less happy than the unfortunate victim of their prank, even, and it was hard to abstain from giving him a comforting hug.

"You just need practice, Tavor," Legolas reassured him, "and Brethil and I will help you."

Tavor, fingering his abused nose, shot him a black look. "Some help you have been so far."

Legolas probably considered it wiser not to pursue the subject any further. Instead, he turned to look at me, a frown marring his fair brow. "How did you know we put Galion's name on the list?"

Perhaps he was merely curious, but I was not going to tell him that a desperate butler had come to me for help. "So you believed you would not be found out? You have much to learn if you want to become good forgers..." I shook my head a little and gazed at Tavor then. "And, no, I do not wish to hear just why you chose to inflict the embarrassment you seem to have suffered yourself upon an unsuspecting person. If it was to have a harmless opponent, it would not cause me to think very highly of you."

'And if you had not been unkind enough to torment a poor old butler, I might have offered to help you', I finished, but only in my thoughts; saying so aloud would have been just as cruel as their prank.

It has been said that I should no longer make the yearly pilgrimage to the south and more think it than say it for it shows in their eyes. Thranduil has mentioned it, in a most casual manner knowing that I will go regardless of what he says. He will never make it a command for he does not wish to argue with me…not over this.

Arasceleg is tactful but straightforward about it, not mincing words as that is not his way. And Vardamar, well, he is always blunt, but then it is usually when we are polishing off a second bottle of Combe, not an excellent wine by any standards but potent which suited our purpose. He will tell me that I am beyond foolish and my family would not wish me to hold onto the pain of losing them for so long.

Perhaps they are right, yet every spring I find myself traveling for the mountains in the southeast.

Now I can add Linlote to the list of people that are concerned about this. He has said nothing to me…yet, but I could see it in his eye as I packed the few things I would take with me, and his words of farewell were kind but guarded.

And while he may not entirely approve of this, I believe he was relieved to see me go, just as I was relieved to go. We both needed time away from one another after the winter months of being together all day and all night. Being a gaoler is not a fun job, not for the 'gaoler' or the 'prisoner'. We were both chaffing under the confinement.

I have lived alone for so long, having grown used to the solitude and the quiet order of day-to-day life, and in turn, Linlote, Alagaer, and Alagant were used to living with a large extended family consisting of Uncle Gwin, Aunt Fin, and Uncle Seven, and others over the years. Their family was reduced now as mine had grown, and well, it had not been easy for any of us to live in such close quarters. Living with Noldor is never an easy thing.

Oddly enough all I could think of as I hastened home was that I hoped Linlote was not in the dungeon again, not that I thought he would do anything to merit such a punishment, but things were…delicate right now and I suppose it would depend on whom was watching him while I was away.

As I neared Gladaran Thamas, I was met with calls of greeting and not a few looks of pity and relief. Some must still think I might never return. I answered them all, trying to smile at them but hastened on as quickly as I could. My goal was to speak with the king, tell him that I was back and ready to take over my duties again. Heledir was in charge of my little pupils and I admit that I was looking forward to the archery lessons with them once more, though I do not know if they would be as glad to see me as I would be to see them. Laureahiril's son is not as strict with them as I am though much of my harshness came from the worry I felt should one of them die or be wounded due to my failure to teach them what they needed to know to survive.

Unfortunately as I crossed the bridge, I could see that there was a great crowd of people already gathered there, and I slowed my pace wondering what could have happened. I was weary from the long journey I had just returned from and wanted nothing more than to get to Thranduil, go home hoping all was as it should be there, and then eat something, a bath might be in order as well. Undoubtedly seeing the king was going to take longer than it should or that I would have liked. Suppressing a sigh, and wondering if I could manage to sneak past those who obviously had an appointment with Thranduil and finish my quick business with him, I moved toward the group, unbraiding my hair, running my fingers through it and swiftly re-braiding it. At least my hair would be presentable.

Ah. Rivendell. I smiled a bit.

Yes, the visitors were dressed in the blues and greys favored by people of Elrond's realm, their horses manes braided with blue ribbons and bells, and I could now tell that it was Glorfindel near the palace speaking with someone, his golden hair giving him away instantly.

'I wonder what they want,' I thought suppressing yet another sigh. More delays. They were clearly their mission was more important than mine, so I would be the one to sit and wait. Perhaps I could just come back later. If no one noticed me then….

But that was not to be.

"Well met, Master Tanglinna! I had not hoped to see you quite that soon, with this great debate about a proper entry into your king's hall going on."

The voice was merry and I gazed at the Noldorin elf that moved to stand before me, eyes shining brightly, smiling in a friendly manner. Obviously he knew who I was, and he did look familiar to me, so I smiled back, hoping that my frantic searching as I dug for his name in my memory was not too obvious.

Though they had traveled far over the Misty Mountains in early spring when the roads were undoubtedly not as good as they would be if they had waited a few more weeks, this elf did not look as rumpled and travel-worn as I felt I did. I suspected he was always nearly immaculate. Some people are like that. His dark hair was neatly braided, his clothing looking fairly fresh, face and hands clean.

He continued to study me, smiling kindly, and slowly a name surfaced and with it my first memory of him.

It had been at Dagorlad inside Oropher's tent where Thranduil had laid out his father's body on the humble camp cot, wrapped in his bloodstained green cloak. That had not been a pleasant time, and perhaps that is what colored my feelings for this elf who had accompanied Gil-Galad and the others that had come to offer their condolences for the loss of our king, condolences and a warning that there was not to be a repeat of 'Oropher's Charge' as one of them snidely called it. My jaw tightened recalling this.

It had not been this elf though he had remained after the others had left. No, this elf had said that he found Oropher to be brave, and saw his headlong rush before the orders were given as valiant. "He actually did what the rest of us wanted to do in our hearts but were too cowardly to do," I believe were his words. Bold words really. Thranduil had thanked him, looking grateful after the mild tongue-lashing given to him by our esteemed 'leader' Gil-galad.

I had not been as impressed, but then I will admit that I was perhaps not in the most gracious mood that night. Having just lost my best friend so soon after losing my family… no one's words no matter how kindly meant or heartfelt would have moved me.

"Good day to you," I began, "Master Eliant, isn't it?" I smiled though I was not in the humor to exchange banal pleasantries, but I did owe this elf at least this much for saying what Thranduil had needed to hear all those years ago. "What brings such a merry party to Thranduil's hall and pray, what debate? Thranduil has not refused you entry has he?"

Hm, I did not sound too displeased that I was being delayed though the words did not sound like me at all. Hmph! I sounded like some dandyish courtier. I pushed the image of Linlote languishing in the dungeon from my head. No one had said anything about his being in trouble, so perhaps all was well on that front and the delay would not be too costly.

Eliant of Rivendell chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"I would not hope so," he said lightly, but then his expression grew serious and filled with concern. "Around Yuletide, we received word of the great battle you have fought and won, and so, it was decided that a visit would be in order as soon as the weather permitted it. I am glad to find you so well."

I cocked one brow at this. He hardly knew me at all; we had perhaps seen me half a dozen times since Dagorlad, so why would he really 'be glad' to find me so well? But he looked sincere all the same, and I silently berated myself for such unworthy thoughts. He was being kind and I was being suspicious; ridiculous and indeed undeserved thoughts on my part.

All the same thoughts of battle, any battle including our most recent one, were not what I wished to dwell on just now. Perhaps if I had not been returning from the south where the past lived more strongly than the present, I would not have been so brusque, but I could feel one of my 'bad days' as they have been called, coming on if this conversation continued, and wishing to chase those black feelings away, I was going to avoid this discussion as much as was possible even if I appeared rude, something that had never stopped me before. Only…these were guests….

"Yes, the battle," I began trying to sound as normal as possible and not like I wished to be anywhere else but here. "Fought and won as you say though we had plenty of help." Plenty of help and confusion as enemies became allies. But no help from Rivendell….I could feel my lips curving into a smirk, which was not called for just now. Rivendell could not even know of the events happening here east of the mountains. Undoubtedly Mithrandir had told Elrond what had happened, and now he had sent this group to make certain all was well with us. Truly, I should learn not to think the worst of everyone.

"I am certain Thranduil will regale you with the details, or his loremaster will or maybe Talagan will sing you the song he has written about it. I understand it is quite good," I continued in a lighthearted voice. Yes, let someone else do the telling. I was not in the mood, and all battles were basically the same: sorrow and loss, death and pain, the names of the dead sung to the stars and prayers offered for the wounded and the slain. No, I was not the one to tell any heroic tales about the battle on Erebor's slopes. Not just now. "How was your journey?" I asked, sounding solicitous, though perhaps a bit forced. "I hope it was a fair one and not too harsh."

Clearly I am too easy to read for Eliant smiled.

"It was a most uneventful journey – at least, not eventful enough to force you to listen to a lengthy tale now. You seem to be returning from a journey yourself," his eyes swept over my somewhat bedraggled appearance, "and I would hate to bore you any longer with my idle prattling."

He smiled again to show me there were no hard feelings between us. He is quite a fine fellow to let me go like this, knowing I did not wish to linger here any longer. Perhaps I had misjudged him all those years ago when I found him a bit too fawning in his dealing with Thranduil. He had probably been quite sincere at the time and I had been to hurt and angry to notice.

I smiled ruefully at Eliant, and tipped my head.

"I apologize. I am just returned as you have guessed and am quite weary." That was very true, and any longer conversation would have exhausted me. If I had continued to stand here, trying to seem interested in something that I really was not interested in, would only fray my temper. I am not as good at these courtly games as others are; lack of practice no doubt, lack of desire. "I will leave you and your party to your…welcome and hope that things are," I glanced up to see Glorfindel talking urgently to someone, one of the guardians of the doors it looked like, "straightened out soon."

Pressing my hand to my heart, I backed away continuing to smile, quite glad for the reprieve. He was still smiling and I turned, determined to see Thranduil much later, perhaps even the next morning. He was going to have his hands full with the visitors for some time. Besides, I had to make certain all was well at home.

Please let all be well, I prayed silently as I hastened back across the bridge to my little house.

TBC

Authors' Note: Sorry for the tardiness of this chapter. ;)