Chapter Ten: Trust Issues

Saturday seemed to come around really quickly this time. I hope everyone is having a good Easter if they celebrate it, and if not, hope your weekend is great! I have eaten so much chocolate in the last day or so, and I haven't even touched my actual Easter egg yet... I have Malteaser rabbits- chocolate coated bunnies filled with tiny malteasers (honeycomb biscuit ball things) and oh wow are they amazing.

Anyway, here's another chapter. Quite a lot of Belhadron and Rhavaniel in this one, and some of Bard as well. The final scene I'm not too happy about, but I rewrote it a lot and this is the best that I could get it- it's not a pivotal scene, really, but was necessary to put in. The chapter title refers to Belhadron, and a conversation between him and Rhavaniel where he is certainly on the losing end. It was a really fun part to write, to get deeper into Belhadron and Rhavaniel's characters. I'm glad people are liking Rhavaniel (oh, and thanks to everyone who said that they enjoyed the sparring scene. There's plenty more action to come- we haven't even reached the actual battle yet).

I do have plans for Rhavaniel- more stories to have her in, a backstory that is slowly taking shape. There's vague references to that backstory in this chapter, but it's never really explored for the simple fact that when I was writing this, she was a very new character and I just didn't know. I do now, though, so it will be featured in later stories. Writing is very slow at the moment, because I have amazing writer's block, and it's being really difficult to get through this and work out where this bloody oneshot is meant to go. And I cannot talk about it much, because the oneshot contains massive spoilers for this story!

Anyway, here's your chapter. Hope you all enjoy it.

0-o-0-o-0

Rhavaniel slipped back into camp not long after she left Legolas, avoiding the perimeter guards just to see if she could. She spent so much time under the boughs of Mirkwood, surrounded by her forest, that her skills in the barren land around them were not what she would like. It took her a few minutes, but soon she stepped into the camp without a single elf noticing her presence, and a smile curved her lips as she did so.

She flipped back her hood as she came into the lit area of the camp, and made a conscious decision to walk through the orange light falling across the ground. It was easy for her to forget, slip back into the mindset she wore when she was scouting for the King. It was easy for the shadows to become familiar, but she knew she could startle some people if she let it slip her mind.

She reported to the King first, telling him of the little more she had learnt over the day, and then she went to find the other captains. They were in the same place as they were last night, though two of them were out on the perimeter and Legolas was up with her scouts on the eastern slopes. Belhadron looked up, and then shifted his feet so she could sit down. One of the others offered her a glass and a dash of wine that had been warmed over the fire.

She watched the fire, swirling the wine in her hand without taking a sip. It had been burning for a while now, and the logs were charred and blackened within the stones, crackling softly until, with a crash, one gave out and they fell down in an eruption of sparks and golden flames.

There was the soft rustle of someone moving and then Belhadron nudged her, stilling her glass with one hand. Rhavaniel blinked.

"Don't lose yourself," Belhadron said, his tone light. He had said the same thing many times before, over the centuries. Rhavaniel's job was a solitary one, for the most part, and it was all too easy for her to become stuck within herself. If she did, though, it would usually only take a few words from one of the others to bring her back to the present. They watched out for each other in that way.

She, Legolas and Belhadron had known each other for the longest, for over centuries, but all the captains had known each other, all lived around each other for far too long to not become attuned to their moods. They all knew the warning signs when it came to Belhadron, when to talk him down or give him a task, and when to put away the breakable objects in the room and make sure Legolas was around. They knew which events may trigger nightmares for one of the others, and how to wake him up safely.

Rhavaniel had learnt a long time ago that none of them should be startled awake if possible. She knew that Belhadron could usually tell whether to nudge her out of her own thoughts, or whether, on a rare and particularly bad day, he should just make sure the chair with the best sightlines was left for her. They all knew when Legolas began spending too much time alone on the practice fields with his bow that they needed to make him take some time off, and that on a bad day, it was best to just quietly mention it in a conversation with their King.

It was a worn system by now, but it worked well. Such days when they needed to think of these things were rare, because they all had a job to do, but they had been fighting for too long to not be left with these little things.

There was the sound of footsteps, heavier than any elf, and the captains looked up as Gandalf stepped into the circle of light thrown out by the fire. Belhadron shifted off the log he was sat on to make room for the wizard. He came to sit in front of Rhavaniel, leaning back against her legs with his knees held loosely to his chest.

Gandalf sat down, and took the glass of wine that one of the others offered him. He sniffed it, and Belhadron laughed. "Do you think we would have anything but excellent wine?" he asked.

Gandalf raised one eyebrow. "I hardly think Thranduil is going to be very lenient with the wine in his cellar, after the whole debacle with the Dwarves' escape." He took a sip of the wine, and nodded, seemingly satisfied with the quality.

"That was hardly our fault," said one of the others with a grimace. "I mean, sure, Galion messed up a bit, but they shouldn't have been able to get out of their cells in the first place. Something suspicious happened, and it wasn't our doing."

"Even you cannot pick the locks of those cells," said Belhadron to Rhavaniel, leaning his head back to look at Gandalf. "I highly doubt the Dwarves could have done it."

"They would have needed the keys," said one of the two captains on the other side of the fire. "But then the keys never left the guard captain who was entrusted with them."

Rhavaniel hummed softly, and Gandalf looked over at her. "You disagree?" he asked.

"I have my own ideas," said Rhavaniel in her soft voice. "But it's a little late for speculation now." Belhadron shifted against her legs, and almost without thinking about it her hands went to his hair and she began to braid it, fingers working deftly as she pulled it into loose sections. Belhadron tilted his head forwards slightly to let her work.

They stayed that way for a little while, the four captains and Gandalf around the fire. Rhavaniel would finish a braid and then undo it, beginning something else, the others occasionally giving her a specific one to do. At one point she became hopelessly lost. One of the others, with a laugh, got up from where he was sat and finished off the braid for her.

Belhadron was leaning back against Rhavaniel's legs, his hair tied back in its usual plait, when Bard wandered over. One of the other captains welcomed him, and Bard sat down amongst the four of them and Gandalf, talking easily with the wizard. Rhavaniel didn't miss how Belhadron tensed slightly as the man sat down at the fire.

He turned to Rhavaniel. "I don't think we have been properly introduced, captain," he said, his voice gruff but somewhat relaxed. Rhavaniel had moved ahead of the army, scouting the area around Erebor before they had arrived, and so had not even been seen much by Bard. In whatever meetings amongst the captains she had been quiet and at the edge of them, and they had, strangely, never talked. "Though you know who I am."

Rhavaniel smiled and leant forwards, clasping his outstretched arm in greetings. "My name is Rhavaniel," she said, her Westron flawless. "Captain of the King's scouts and the vanguard." Belhadron coughed slightly, hastily muffling a chuckle at the term Rhavaniel was using now for spies. But she was, as usual, right: it would not be a good idea to reveal to Bard that the elf sitting across from him was in command of people who were watching pretty much everything within and around this camp.

Bard nodded in understanding, and Rhavaniel was fairly sure that he knew more than she had told him. Thranduil had not told him her specific role, she knew that, but she could also tell that he was a smart man and could have guessed anyway.

"How are your men?" asked one of the others. "How is training going?"

"As well as can be expected," replied Bard with a shrug. He looked over at Belhadron. "Your bout earlier with Legolas certainly helped their confidence. It was very impressive."

Belhadron ducked his head in acknowledgement. "My thanks," he said, but his voice was brittle and completely unlike how he had been talking earlier. As one of the others asked Bard something and the conversation turned away, he muttered something under his breath in his own tongue.

Gandalf didn't hear what he said, but Rhavaniel obviously did. Without being obvious she dug her heel into his side. "Don't be so narrow minded," she chided in their own language.

"What?" protested Belhadron, but at her glare he subsided. She could feel him sitting tense against her legs, ready to stand at a moment's notice, and followed his gaze to Bard, who was talking with one of the others over the training of his men.

Belhadron didn't relax for the rest of the time that Bard was there, and soon enough he excused himself, stalking off into the dark. He didn't move into it like she did, had never had the knack of moving around the light, but he was still formidable. She couldn't see his face, but judging by the few men that almost jumped out of his way, he was in a mood once again.

0-o-0-o-0

It was past midnight when he returned, and the captains had left the fire to go to their own tents, or to relieve the others on duty. In the dead hours of the very early morning the camp was nearly empty as Belhadron strode down past dark silhouettes of tents. Umor was with him, padding quietly by his side, and it was perhaps because of the dog that his hand was not resting on his sword.

After handing Umor over to one of the guards for the night, he reached one of the tents and knocked on the post. It was more as a courtesy than anything, as he ducked inside nearly straight away afterwards.

"Give it back."

Rhavaniel looked up from where she had been reading over some scroll of parchment. "Give what back?"

"Don't start that," said Belhadron with gritted teeth. "Give it back."

Rhavaniel smiled wryly, and then reached down to her belt and pulled out the short knife with the ash handle. Belhadron all but snatched it from her hands. "It's not funny this time," he said shortly.

Rhavaniel raised one eyebrow. "I didn't take it because I thought it would be funny," she said. "I took it because you were being foolish and narrow-minded, earlier."

"What I said was true," Belhadron pointed out. "If this comes to a battle, then those men out there are nowhere near ready. You know that."

"That's not the point," Rhavaniel pointed out smoothly. "And I know Bard didn't understand you, but you cannot go and mutter such things under your breath when we might be sitting only days away from a battle, if not an all out war. You really do know better than that, mellon-nin."

Belhadron shook his head, and it was a sign of how long they had been around each other that Rhavaniel saw the gesture for what it really was, what it was attempting to hide. She chuckled, amused, and Belhadron looked at her pointedly, waiting for an explanation.

"You would think that, out of the two of us, it would be the spy captain who would have the trust issues," she said. "And yet here you are."

Belhadron's jaw worked as he clenched his teeth, but he didn't deny anything, and that was as good an answer as any. Rhavaniel sat down on her cot. "Legolas mentioned to me that you don't like Bard. I don't quite think he's got it right."

Belhadron heaved a sigh, and then collapsed gracefully to sit on the floor opposite her. "I don't trust him," he said. "There's a difference. Have you seen how much rests on him? All we are doing is offering him our support, and because of it, we might get drawn into a war."

"We've been at war for centuries already," replied Rhavaniel. "It's a little different this time, but I don't think that's quite it." They'd all had plenty of time to become accustomed to the presence of war, the inevitability of battle.

"It's worse not quite knowing," muttered Belhadron. He smoothed his hands down his legs, pulling his knees up close to his chest. "But I can't trust Bard, can't trust that he knows what he's doing or that he's doing the right thing. And if he doesn't do the right thing, then all of this has a very good chance of falling down around us."

"And you can't trust his men to fight," continued Rhavaniel. "If they don't, if they turn and run at the sight of battle, or even if they aren't good enough, then we're all in even more danger."

Belhadron nodded slightly. Of course, they were in danger whenever they went into battle. But in Mirkwood they all knew each other. They all knew their capabilities, and whatever happened, they knew that had done all they could. And now there were so many unknowns suddenly involved.

"That accursed mountain is making everything worse," murmured Belhadron. "You feel it as well, don't you? The emptiness, for lack of a better word. It's put me on edge, for some reason, and I can't shake it."

"I know," said Rhavaniel. "And I do feel it. I'm just a lot more used to it, or to something similar. But you need to keep your head."

Belhadron chuckled. "You really don't have to tell me that." He sighed slightly, pushing one hand through his hair. "I just…"

"You really don't trust easily, do you?" asked Rhavaniel with a smile.

Belhadron nodded reluctantly. He was on edge, had been ever since the men had gotten involved and he had seen just how much they stood to lose if this went wrong. And he couldn't trust Bard. It made everything more difficult.

Rhavaniel stood, and offered him a hand. "I don't have any advice," she said. "We're all terrible at trying to solve issues like this anyway. But for what it's worth, Bard is a good man, and I trust him as much as I trust anyone who isn't one of us."

"You've known him for less than two weeks," said Belhadron. "He only found out your name tonight. How can you possibly know he is a good man?"

Rhavaniel laughed. "Have you forgotten my job?" she asked. "He may not know me, but I have been watching him for quite a while now, along with anyone else I thought important in Esgaroth. He's grim, but the people around him have always trusted his judgement. He knows how to fight. His father taught him as much as he could before he died, of their history and other things, so he is fairly well educated. He has good instincts, though he can tend towards the worst outcomes, thinking of how to deal with them before thinking of what he can do to prevent such outcomes. He doubts himself, at the moment, and I don't blame him. He's been rather pushed into all of this. It was only two weeks ago that he brought down Smaug. But he's willing to hide it all if it keeps his men confident." She smiled wryly. "He's learning."

Belhadron huffed a sigh, and then grabbed her hand and pulled himself to his feet. Rhavaniel briefly grasped his arm as he turned to leave.

"I know you don't like this," she said. "I don't, either. You're also bored and frustrated, and with you it makes for a fairly volatile combination. I don't need to tell you to keep your focus on what's important. You know that. But deal with it. We're stuck here until it's over. Put up with it and stop making snide comments."

Belhadron chuckled bitterly. "Thanks for the knife," was all he said, as he turned and left in a flurry of cold winter air.

0-o-0-o-0

It was raining the next day, and the camp was slowly turning muddy. Bard envied the elves. They walked on top of the mud, their feet barely leaving imprints, whilst he was left trying to scrape the cloying stuff off his boots before he started sliding.

Nevertheless, his men were training with the elves. Belhadron and Legolas were sparring once again, though this time they were taking men through simple hand-to-hand moves that might end up saving their lives. They'd found a flat area that was bare rock, and had covered it in spare cloaks and blankets, a few mattresses they'd borrowed, and anything else that could soften a fall. For now, the moves were merely slow repetitions of what the men would practice later, but Bard could tell there was a wired tension shared between the two of them, a restlessness. They would be properly sparring soon enough.

He watched them for a while, noting the men who were more eager to participate and those who were hanging back. Various ideas were forming in his head already, about who he could put together and where, about who would stand at the forefront of an army and who would probably be better at the back. He had his captains already, had those few men who seemed to have an unwavering loyalty to him, but there was still much to plan.

An elf brushed past him, and he recognised Rhavaniel. She looked different than she had last night, flitting through the groups of men and elves like they were hardly there. Bard thought for a moment, and then moved quickly after her.

"Rhavaniel," he called out, reaching to tap her on the shoulder. Rhavaniel turned, and for a brief moment Bard thought she might copy one of Legolas' moves and flip him over her shoulder. In the next second, she relaxed.

"Bard," she said in greetings. "A word of advice, if I may. I wouldn't grab any of the captains by the shoulder to get our attention. We would mean no harm, of course, but it might not end well for you or anyone else if you startle us."

Bard nodded. "Of course," he said, holding up his hands. "Sorry."

Rhavaniel laughed softly, shaking her head. "Do not be," she replied easily. "It's a bad habit for us, nothing more. Did you want something?"

"Yes, actually, I did." Bard moved away, Rhavaniel with him, and he began to walk away from the busier areas of the camp. "I wanted to talk to you about the systems that they seem to have place up at Erebor, their fortifications and defences. What do you think of them, and possible ways around them?"

Rhavaniel smiled, but the expression could have meant a hundred different things. "Why should I know about these things?" she asked Bard. "Why not ask Legolas, or the King?"

"Because you are the captain of your King's spies, are you not?" asked Bard. Rhavaniel blinked, and he chuckled slightly. "I noticed. None of the other captains move quite the way as you do. Besides, Gandalf may have slipped and mentioned you in passing at some point. After that, I watched more closely."

Rhavaniel smiled. "I noticed that. I thought that you might have a suspicion of my real job, but I did not think you would work it out so quickly. I am sorry that I did not tell you, but orders are orders, and I did not want to add to your worries."

"Well, I suppose I should thank you for that," Bard replied, though he wasn't sure he meant it. He knew that there was most likely far more to it, but he found himself, surprisingly, not caring all that much. He knew that whatever Rhavaniel's job, she worked for her King, and Thranduil was his ally. Whatever information she gained, would be used to their advantage.

Maybe he was just tired of being suspicious of people. He wasn't sure.

"To answer your question," said Rhavaniel. "Their defences are strong. They are Dwarves. They know how to work stone. They have good positions to keep watch from, but at the moment, it seems a little lax, with only one watching at a time. It's quite possible that one or two people could scale the defences and get inside, if it was timed right. What resistance would be found once we were within, I don't know."

Bard nodded. "I'm assuming that you mean elves, when you say people," he said. "So we have a good chance at being able to wait them out? Good."

Rhavaniel frowned slightly. "Why is it that you ask me?" she asked. "I know why you have asked me specifically, because of my job, but why do you wish to know?"

"I want to be as prepared as possible," replied Bard determinedly. "Laketown is in ruins, and a lot of good people are dead, because of what the Dwarves let loose upon us. Thorin Oakenshield should pay for the damage he has caused, and at the moment, he seems very unlikely to do that. So we must be prepared for any eventuality."

Rhavaniel nodded. "You do not want vengeance, then?" she asked softly.

"I want payment," replied Bard. "I want the people here, those still on the shores of the lake, to be safe and have a home. I'm sure for a lot of my men vengeance does play a part, and it probably does for me as well, but I just want to get what we came for and go home." He laughed bitterly. "Go back and rebuild our home is more apt, I think."

"Good," murmured Rhavaniel. At Bard's raised eyebrow, she inclined her head and elaborated. "I first started in this job because of vengeance, in a way. I called it justice, but it was not the same. And it nearly killed me quite a few times before I learned. I'm not saying Oakenshield should not pay, because he should, but you do need to be careful. It's very easy to cross over from payment to vengeance, and then you can't ever be settled until you let it go." She smiled crookedly. "That's a lot harder than it sounds."

"I'm sure I will be fine," Bard said. "I just want to keep my people safe, and get them home." He smiled wryly. "But I appreciate the honesty. I thought you, out of any of the captains, would be most inclined to play the game of politics."

Rhavaniel inclined her head with a chuckle. "I am good at playing the game. That does not mean I enjoy it. At heart, all of us captains are soldiers. We will speak plainly, if we can."

Bard laughed. "I think that is going to become something I will miss, eventually. Thank you for your opinion, and your advice."

Rhavaniel nodded. "I am glad I could help," she said smoothly. "If you need anything else, Legolas will know where to find me." She bowed slightly to him, and then turned away. Soon enough, she had drifted out of his sight.

Bard shook his head, and then turned back to where his men were slowly practising fighting techniques. Legolas was moving among them, commenting on what he saw, whilst Belhadron stood to one side, watching with folded arms and a slight frown.

Bard didn't know what to think of these elves. Legolas appeared straightforward enough, but he was fairly sure Belhadron didn't like him, and he couldn't pin down Rhavaniel. She seemed like a decent person, a good captain, but given her actual job he wasn't sure whether that was just an act. If it was, it was a ridiculously good one, but he didn't trust easily on principle. She was a spy, and he didn't doubt that she had many different masks that she could wear.

But, like he thought earlier, he was tired of looking for the hidden motives within people. The elves were their allies, and maybe that was enough for him to trust them.

Belhadron called Legolas over, murmuring something to him as his eyes flickered over the men. Legolas listened, and watched the men as he nodded to whatever Belhadron was saying. After a few moments, he strode back amongst them. Even from where Bard was standing, some distance away, he could see the measured stride of a soldier, a honed warrior, and he knew that none of his men, nor him, could ever live to move like that.

Belhadron was smirking from where he was watching, at something Legolas had called back over his shoulder to him in their own lyrical tongue. As Bard watched, he shook his head with a grin, before his gaze followed Legolas once more.

Bard had noticed early on how Belhadron's gaze wasn't usually far from Legolas, and guessed that he would easily take down anything that served as a threat to the blond captain. And yet he wasn't sure whether it was Belhadron or Rhavaniel he should be warier of.

He was sure both of them could easily kill him, yet it seemed like if he weren't a threat to Legolas, then Belhadron would merely ignore his presence. Rhavaniel seemed to have more of a focus on the larger picture. Even though she had been perfectly pleasant to him, if he began to get in the way of any plans Bard was fairly sure that she could quietly make him disappear.

He shook his head. The mountain was getting inside his head, unsettling him and feeding mindless paranoia. He should not even be thinking of such things. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair and moved away into the camp.

From nearby, Gandalf watched him go with a frown. There was a lot on the man's shoulders. He rather hoped that they would hold under the strain.

It's up to you whether or not you believe Bard, when he says he doesn't want vengeance, but I would take anything he says with a pinch of salt. The poor guy has a lot on his mind, and anyone can get good at lying to themselves. Like I said, I'm not too happy with that final scene, but it's good enough- there's a lot more important scenes still to come.

Poor Belhadron, but it really did fall in with his character to have trust issues. In my mind, he doesn't really trust anyone without proof. Legolas he obviously trusts completely, as well as Rhavaniel. The elves in their army he trusts, because they're trained to follow orders and he knows what they can do. But someone he's only known for about a week or two, who has never proven to be a good fighter, or a good leader? He's not going to trust Bard without proof, and he won't have proof until the battle. So yeah, in short, Belhadron has trust issues. But then I think a lot of the elves of Mirkwood would have trust issues. The only reason Rhavaniel is so chilled about it is because she is the spy captain, and knows everything she needs to about everyone to know whether she can trust them or not. Rhavaniel is badass, basically.

As always, reviews are very welcome. See you all on Wednesday!