hello everyone!
Thank you so much for all who are still with me on this. Thank you to readers and followers, and especially to kind reviewers. Your encouragements and insights are absolutely precious to me. Precioussssss, lol. Anyways, I am currently writing some really tricky scenes at the moment, so I've been productive but some of you might not be too happy with me at the end of this fic so... let's move forward and see where this goes ;) Do share your c&c's and thoughts, especially as we move into thematically tougher territory. All of this sounds vague, I know. I'm sorry. Caffeine. Hopefully the fic is more coherent, hahaha... anyways, thanm you again and I hope you enjoy the read as much as I enjoy the writing. And wuthiut further ado:
# # #
15: Trails and Trials
# # #
Mirkwood, T.A. 2851
# # #
The group drifted to the outpost officer's talan to consult his notes and maps. They estimated that the brothers left for Dol Guldur less than a day ago.
Agarwen could not tell how much time had passed because she had been put to sleep like all the other elves, but there were other means of coming up with a reasonable time estimate. They relied upon information from the sleeping commanding officer's last dated logs, which aligned with when Legolas' traveling party started feeling the confusion of the trees.
"They left less than a day ago," Tauriel said under her breath, excitedly. "The brothers could not have gone far. The older ones are soldiers well-known to me. They are heavyset spearmen, not quite as limber in the trees, and traveling with their noncombatant younger brother besides."
The group drew out a map of their home, and Silon pointed at their current position at its northernmost. "The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and Rochanar's sons can be blunt," he glanced uncertainly at their weeping but mother before continuing, "They are likely to take this route going south to Dol Guldur. But this is still a long journey, more so with obstacles. The brothers will be slowed down by needing to cross the river, by occasional spiders' nests, by the increasingly tangled foliage the closer they get to the South, and they may even be intercepted by our own roving patrols or need to hide from them. Catching up to those damned fools really is possible, if all they have is a day's lead."
Tauriel nodded in approval. "A lean outfit traveling quickly in the trees can catch up to them easily."
"Not all of us can go," Legolas said thoughtfully. By Tauriel's pointed look at her commander and prince, she already knew where his mind was going.
"The people of this outpost will need the care of Rossenith, and she will need help," she said authoritatively. "Garavon and his apprentices will stay for that. My lords Legolas and Glorfindel, still uncleared for military duties as you are, you will also stay along with Istor, who is not adept in the trees and who I assume would wish to stay with his commander. The outpost needs to be manned, and while its soldiers are out of commission, that will be your duty."
"I am fastest in the trees," Legolas murmured carefully, not wanting to blatantly challenge her, yet.
"Not by much over me," she snapped. "And given our prey's pace, speed is not the primary purpose. We will catch up to them and when we do, they may resist."
"They would never hurt ernil-nin!" the mother claimed, and was duly ignored.
"I will speak with the voice of the prince's own father the king if I must," Tuariel told Legolas fervently, "But for now I call upon whatever trust you may have of my judgment and abilities, Legolas. I ask only as myself, for Tauriel, that you stand down. I will go, and you will have to stay."
Legolas' jaws clenched and his eyes narrowed in annoyance at being backed into the corner with the weight of his respect for her abilities, but he gave her a short nod. "Bring Renior and Silon, and commandeer soldiers from the first forest patrol you encounter and recruit them to your task."
"Silon will stay with you," Tauriel said, raising her eyebrows at him in challenge.
"I think not," he returned, as expected.
"This is an outpost supposedly watched by at least twenty soldiers, Legolas," Tauriel reasoned. "Do you think you and Glorfindel and Istor will be enough if the worst should come to pass now, in our moment of vulnerability? Silon stays – and even that is too few. I will have Renior with me, and when we connect with a patrol – a given owing to our southbound route – I will have more than enough able soldiers. Certainly more than what you have here."
Legolas stared at her for a long moment. He cared for her beyond soldierly camaraderie, that was always clear, and he never could get used to being on the sidelines. But he had no rational basis for further complaint, and they were pressed for time.
"Take no unnecessary risks," he told her tersely. "If the brothers are lethally adamant in their fool's errand," their mother winced but he did not care, "let them be and do not hurt yourselves in subduing them. If they have gone farther than our estimates and have reached beyond our secured zones, do not pursue. Do not go beyond the southern outpost - you are expressly forbidden. Do not risk yourselves unnecessarily for this, Tauriel. Your word."
"It is given hir-nin," she promised.
"Prepare for your mission then," he said. "I will compose a missive to be sent to the stronghold about the situation, and I suppose we will just have to see how Garavon's birds perform in their duties in a test of fire."
# # #
There wasn't much to prepare.
Legolas took over the outpost commanding officer's desk to write quick messages to his father the Elvenking and Brenion the War Minister for the birds to bring. As untested as the messenger birds were, Legolas did the letters in coded them in their archaic, little-known Silvan dialect. Nearby, Tauriel prepared her wares. She checked her weapons and re-stocked provisions.
Silon had gone off to give Renior and the others their assignments, bringing Rochanar's wife down with him for examination by the healer Rossenith. Their departure left the two wood-elves alone with the Imladrians, the latter engaged over the bedridden, unconscious outpost commander Echador. They resumed in efforts to solicit some form of response from him. He remained asleep, even with Glorfindel's gentle coaxing of the fea.
Legolas finished with his letters and rose from the desk to stand beside Tauriel.
"It is a long journey, Tauriel," he told her quietly. "Do you have enough-"
She chuckled at him. "Weapons, water, lembas. My soldier's pack is so well-provisioned I even have some of Rossenith's non-regulation items. We have few needs the forest cannot provide at need, Legolas. You are just worried."
"It is a complex situation."
"The hard part was the decision you made to come after the brothers," she told him gently. "Having done that, the soldierly objectives you must now leave to others until you yourself are fit for duty." She hesitated before adding, "I thank you for doing just that."
Glorfindel understood her gratitude; she knew she was the outfit's designated commanding officer for tactical matters, but Legolas was still her military superior and her prince. He could have had some ground to challenge her but had been reasonable instead.
It was another delicate game that Legolas had to play, Glorfindel reflected. He juggled his princely and soldierly duties, his current medical limitations, and the respect, friendship and romantic interest he had for Tauriel.
What had he said to Glorfindel just a day or so ago?
I refuse to put myself in the untenable position of either sidelining a fine soldier at risk to the kingdom to spare my heart, or possibly assigning them to their deaths. I might lose my mind...
Glorfindel left them to it. He was unfamiliar with jealousy so if he felt it over Legolas and whatever it was the prince had with Tauriel - he did not know. He did not think so.
"We will be careful, Legolas," she promised him. To take the serious edge off of their conversation she added wryly, "I am more worried about you."
"In a relatively secure outpost with Silon sitting on me?" Legolas laughed – a light, quiet, warm, intimate, unaffected sound. Glorfindel felt a twinge in his heart at hearing it coaxed out by someone else, and the realization he had no monopoly on giving Legolas joy.
Ah jealousy, he realized, there you are. We do not know each other yet. I am Glorfindel. I wish I could say it is good to met you.
# # #
Tauriel and Renior left with little fuss, and Istor took first watch at the lookout. The sleeping Echador, Glorfindel left to the ministrations of Rossenith, while he went with Legolas in search of Garavon and his messenger birds.
They went down from the trees; Legolas again, adopting the space below Glorfindel as shield in case of a hard fall. Glorfindel had no need of it anymore, for he had always been a quick study. But it was interesting, this sensation of being so looked after. Of being so precious to someone. He realized then, the magnitude of his relief that it wouldn't be Legolas going southbound on a mission to apprehend Rochanar's desperate sons.
They landed soundlessly on the ground, and walked mostly apace with each other with Legolas steering them in his subtle way toward the stables and the paddocks.
"You did the right thing, I think," Glorfindel opined.
Legolas gave him a sidelong glance. "Why do you say so?"
"The objective is achievable," Glorfindel answered, "and the parameters clear and fair: save the brothers from themselves while arresting them for their transgressions to see justice before the Elvenking, but at no risk to the arresting soldiers' welfare. The decision is good politically and militarily. It is also I think, good for the soul."
Legolas winced. "I could hardly say 'to hell with them all' with their mother weeping at my feet. Tempting as it was with all that folly."
"I doubt you even thought about that," Glorfindel contested.
Legolas shrugged, did not deny it.
"Do you think the brothers will resist?" Glorfindel asked.
"They have gone too far to stop now," Legolas replied tightly. "I know they will, but they will not harm our people badly with intention." His lip turned up in a dry smile. "Not that they have the ability to harm Tauriel or Renior. The brothers will be subdued, of that I am certain. Their submission is the least of my worries, however – as you know, navigating the woods in that direction is dangerous enough, without worrying about your own people hurting you."
They stopped at the paddocks, where Silon was unsuccessfully and frustratingly trying to coral several horses back to their stables for the night. It was a surprisingly poor showing, for one of the Firstborn.
Legolas stopped to watch, and Glorfindel settled beside him. The corners of the elven prince's eyes crinkled warmly.
"He has other strengths," the prince said fondly.
Jealousy teased at Glorfindel again, but it was only a gentle, passing breeze. You are not the only one who can bring him joy, he thought, But I can be happy, as long as he has joy.
Nearby, Garavon guffawed freely. He was a lover of animals, and Silon's beastly troubles amused him.
"Perhaps you can help instead!" Silon exclaimed. But as Legolas walked up to the gamekeeper with his messages, Silon and Garavon saw the papers in his hands and sobered immediately.
"These are bound for the Elvenking's Halls," Legolas told Garavon, "To apprise them of our situation. Do you think your birds are up for the challenge?"
Garavon's eyes turned steely, not unlike that of a bird of prey. "These will be delivered safely, hir-nin. I know it."
# # #
Legolas and Glorfindel watched Garavon with his work, cooing at the birds while securing the messages upon their legs.
The expectation was that once the messages reached the stronghold, reinforcements would be sent to secure the north post, and patrols would be sent southward to help save/arrest the fugitive brothers. Things would be infinitely simpler if the birds could be sent directly to the southern outpost so that they could intercept Rochanar's sons; alas, they were only trained to return home to Garavon's hut near Thranduil's Halls. If this worked though, they could expand upon the system.
The two golden elves stood only to observe; Garavon had his two apprentices and needed nothing from them. Once the task was done and the birds went soaring to the skies bearing their missives – and their hopes – it was time to focus on their tasks here, which meant bringing the outpost to proper order.
Beginning with ushering the spirited horses into shelter.
"Don't even think about it!" a frustrated Silon told Legolas, who vaunted up the fencing to assist. "I'm not going to allow these mad beasts to kick at you and trample your brittle bones."
Legolas' eyes glinted in annoyance and challenge. Glorfindel sighed, and vaunted over to follow after him.
The horses were restless. They were sensitive creatures, and were not immune to the energies spurred by the strange occurrences in their home these past days. Suddenly there were strangers trying to control them; of course they would buck.
Legolas eyed one red roan-haired horse and approached him seemingly casually; but Glorfindel knew the relaxed posture was fully intentional, so that the horse would not feel threatened. They circled each other repeatedly, and this went on for many long moments, their distance gradually narrowing until the horse could sniff and nudge at Legolas gently. Deeming the elf as safe, the horse then lowered its head, and let his face and nose be touched. Legolas moved slowly and deliberately, petting the horse now, which soon seemed determined to stay nuzzling near his shoulder.
I can sympathize with that, Glorfindel thought wryly.
Garavon looked on with approval, and Glorfindel's eyes caught Silon's. The other elf rolled back his eyes in annoyance, but could not hold back an endeared smile for the prince he again had cause to admire.
Glorfindel sighed. He missed his own horse, left in Imladris when their party had set off on foot, knowing the beast would not be ideal to ride in the thick forests of Mirkwood. A blessing that decision had been too, for surely the beasts would have been lost in the attack that felled their traveling party.
He looked over at the small cluster of powerful horses in a coral, and wondered if Legolas meant to dance with them all until he could subdue them. Luckily, he had tricks all his own.
One did not spend time with the gods without learning a few things, and Yavanna in particular had always been generous with knowledge. Glorfindel whistled an ethereal tune, which had the nearest horse immediately running, eager to rest his head beneath Glorfindel's palm.
"You are a show off!" Legolas teased him from afar, with a light laugh that carried in the wind from where he stood to where Glorfindel had secreted away his deepest heart. It shot straight to the very core of him.
He really is one hell of a marksman, Glorfindel thought, tremulously wryly, for he had a sudden fear for this brittle core, undiscovered until now. It was an unmapped part of his person, this capacity for such loving, unearthed only by the barest power of light laughter.
# # #
They returned the horses back to the stables and checked on each of the mighty beasts – they were still in some distress, but at least they were now sheltered, warm and well-nourished.
"These are all unbroken," Legolas murmured, looking over the collection of spirited animals. Some he had ushered in and inspected, others were catered to by Glorfindel.
"I agree," said Silon readily for it was as good an excuse as any for his un-elvish lack of finesse with them. The quip made Legolas smile grimly; Glorfindel suspected it made little difference. But the elven prince would not be distracted from a thought that was capturing his mind.
"What are you thinking, Legolas?" asked Glorfindel.
Before the other elf could reply, one of Garavon's apprentices came running toward them.
"Hir-nin!" he called out excitedly. "The outpost commander, Lieutenant Echador - he is awake!"
# # #
It was, in too many ways, not a good awakening.
The outpost commander was badly ill and embracing a sick bowl. But as poorly as he felt, even worse was the situation he had awoken to. It was, however, a situation he was still valiantly trying to address while sporadically being interrupted by his wildly rebelling stomach.
Echador had staggered his way stubbornly to his desk, and that was where Legolas, Glorfindel and Silon found him by the time they raced up to his flet from the grounds below. At his elbow hovered gentle and nervous Rossenith, who for all of her prowess with healing and herbs, did not have a liking for commanding others. She was wringing her wrists anxiously, and looked relieved at the arrival of the others.
"Talk some sense into him if you can, Legolas!" she opened. "The lieutenant should be in bed!"
"Ah, Rossenith," Legolas sighed wearily. "No one is where they are supposed to be at the moment, unfortunately. In the meantime, I need Echador to be functional."
"Ernil-nin," Echador said, his voice thin and trembling. He lowered his head to bow, then just kept going lower until he was hovering over the sick bowl, which he used promptly.
Legolas grimaced in sympathy. "I will speak of what we already know, and you are to supplement vital or new information. A full debrief can wait until you are in better health."
"Thank you, my lord," he said thinly. He was green at the gills.
"We arrived to find your outpost completely incapacitated," Legolas summarized. "This was apparently caused by a powerful sleeping draught administered to everyone here – soldiers and civilians alike, including the children. The culprits, we believe, are the three sons of the captured soldier Rochanar. Knowing they were being watched, knowing they would be stopped, the brothers put the entire outpost into a deep sleep, then headed south to Dol Guldur on a mission to save whatever they could of their father."
"The youngest was put to work in the gardens and the kitchens," Echador a with a gulp and a soft burp. He wrapped his arms about his middle miserably. "He would have the means and opportunity to go with such a motivation. The older ones have also been... frayed at the edges. They all seemed to be getting better though, more productive, more engaged these days past. I didn't think they were planning anything elaborate, I thought they were healing. We were even heartened by the service of meal and drink they had so earnestly shared with us. I didn't think, none of us would have ever thought, it would be laced by a draught."
"The powerful drink they administered resulted in the death of one of your soldiers," Legolas told him gravely. "I am sorry."
Echador paled further. "My lord... who was it?"
"As commanding officer here, you will need to formally identify the soldier yourself before we give him a proper burial," Legolas said tightly. "But it is young Mistador. I recognize him from when he had some archery training with me a long time ago. I am sorry for your loss."
Echador closed his eyes in a new brand of misery. "I should have kept those brothers on a better watch, ernil-nin. This is all the cause of my complacency and failure."
"You have command responsibility yes," Legolas conceded, "but their choices are also all their own. If there was some negligence here, it will be found out and dealt with, but I find I can hardly blame you more than I can blame myself. Now is not the time for such things at any rate. We need this outpost restored to its proper defensive function. We need to bring your troops back to health. And we need the brothers retrieved for their own sakes and to face justice. We have dispatched a small party for the latter. The others we here have to accomplish on our own."
Echador nodded, and he tried to straighten up but promptly failed. "Rossenith please," he groaned, and seemed to return to a conversation he was having with the healer before Legolas and the others arrived to debrief him.
"One sip," he begged her, "one sip of that potion of yours. I need to be on my feet, just for a little while."
Glorfindel realized he was asking for the much touted, magical brew of Rossenith's that could stimulate "the half dead as if twice alive," as Legolas had once described it.
"I do not know what you were given," Rossenith said sternly. "The reaction could be lethal. The effect you seek will also burn through quickly, and in the end you may feel worse than you do now. There is nothing you can do to persuade me."
Echador sighed, but he relented. With sweat beading at his brow he managed to finally straighten up, but he did not let go of his sick bowl, just in case.
"Let's get this place in proper order," he muttered, looking through the papers at his desk. "I will release you to turn your attentions to your other patients, healer, I am sorted enough. But first I must compare our records with how many you are tending here, and we can determine if everyone is accounted for."
Glorfindel let them work, and turned his attention to Legolas, who was pensive again. Something the lieutenant had said made the prince's brows furrow, and he looked lost in thought again, as he had been just before they ran here upon word of Echador's awakening. Glorfindel did not interrupt him, but instead, tried to fathom the course of his thoughts.
What had Echador said? Compare our records with how many... account for everyone... how many... account...
"All the horses are wild," Legolas murmured, and he blinked and licked his lips in emerging realization. "All the horses – Echador!"
"M-my lord?"
"This outpost," Legolas said tightly, "You maintain warhorses both wild and broken, do you not?"
"Y-yes of course..."
Legolas hissed out a curse, and headed for one of the maps of his home. Glorfidel felt his hands grow cold at an emerging realization of his own. Legolas spread out the map.
"All this time we assumed Rochanar's sons would be on foot," Legolas said, "and take the shortest route from here to Dol Guldur through the forest. But if they took the tamed horses..."
Glorfindel looked over the map. The outpost they were in was at the northern, wooded tip of Mirkwood, facing the mountains. If the brothers took horses, they wouldn't go through the forest – where the foliage was unfriendly to large beasts and they would only be intercepted by patrols of their own people – they would go around it.
From the north they would go west, out of the bounds of the woods. They would then go southbound down the hills and plains, and likely re-enter the woods once they are closer to Dol Guldur, where the Mirkwood patrols were either far less in the contested territory and likely to miss them, or nonexistent altogether in lost lands.
Tauriel and Renior, therefore, were on a fool's errand. The traveling party's most able warriors were following a mistaken assumption. The brothers were taking a different route.
Legolas closed his eyes in frustration. Their assumptions were wrong, and it was a collective failure based on incomplete information, but it was the only information they had at the time. As a soldier, Glorfindel was not unfamiliar with this brand of blameless mistake. They couldn't have known better or done anything else. But even blameless, the outcome was grave, and he could almost see it physically borne on Legolas' shoulders, lean and powerful but now slightly bent as he considered his options. But when he opened his eyes, they were steely with strength and resolve, and he stood taller and loomed larger even if only because of them.
"The situation is the same," Legolas said quietly, but lethally. "Their lead is still short. Their horsemanship inferior to ours. They can still be intercepted if we take the remaining horses here and come after them. The wild ones will have the necessary power, speed, and quite frankly, abandon, to do the job."
"If you can control them!" snapped Silon. "They'd just as soon break our necks!"
"Not my neck," Legolas said assuredly. "Someone needs to go after them, Silon."
"No one need do anything for that damned, fool lot!" Silon thundered. "Especially not you!"
"It was my absence from the field that caused this to begin with," Legolas said quietly, which in turn, quieted Silon.
"Surely you must know that is not true," Silon said to his prince. "Surely, Legolas. Surely you must know. You cannot think it..."
Legolas shook his head at himself, clearly regretting what he had said, but indulging in it only briefly.
"Now is not the time for such things," he murmured.
It was the same thing he had just told Echador, about self-blame. His gaze took on more calculation and planning, quickly overriding his disappointment in himself.
"Eryn Galen is two hundred leagues north to south," he said quietly.
Glorfindel picked up on his train of thought: "With trained horses traveling at managed speeds sustainable for long-distance riding, fresh horses to occasionally switch, and strategic stops for the beasts to rest, a seasoned horseman can traverse that distance in less than 4 days."
"They are not good h-horsemen," Echador piped in. "I kn-know this to be true: their training is minimal, and experience in long-d-distance riding assuredly none. They have never b-been assigned thus."
"Novice riders restless on a mission might not know better than riding those horses to the ground," Legolas said. "They are only a day's ride ahead of us and could not have covered much distance. But still if we mean to succeed we need to leave promptly."
TO BE CONTINUED...
Thank you and 'Til the next post!
