Elaenar found Aeründal in the mess hall, which was a surprise to him because it was so late at night. The spies had just gotten back from their mission.
"How goes it, friend?" Elaenar said while taking a seat across from Aeründal.
"Well," He answered cheerily, flashing him a grin.
"You look pleased with yourself." Elaenar said.
"Very, let me tell you about it," Aeründal said, leaning in. He seemed excited. His voice took on a hush-hush tone, like he was telling Elaenar something gravely important.
"Last night Illian and I discovered something at Barad Mendolin: a small, gated storm-drain. We sawed it open and crawled through. It's just like the prisoner said; they have barely enough soldiers at the fortress; I'm surprised the orcs haven't abandoned it entirely."
"That sounds dangerous," Elaenar commented. "Bold of you to get so close to them."
Aeründal shook his head. "Don't worry about us, Elaenar. We weren't caught, and that was the most dangerous mission yet."
"All the same," Elaenar said. "Be careful out there."
"This will be an easy victory for us, I know it." Aeründal said with a twinkle in his eye.
Elaenar smiled and nodded.
"After we've taken Barad Mendolin," Aeründal continued. "I'm going to put in a request to our Captain to take a leave of absence. I know it's earlier than my time by a few months, but I'm hoping he'll approve it. Last year I left early, I wasn't home for even two months but Thrandar issued a letter calling for more volunteers. We were low on soldiers then; you remember that don't you? So I came back to serve even though I had four months left before I was supposed to return. Do you think Captain Thrandar will approve my request?"
"I say we all deserve six months leave after we take Barad Mendolin." Elaenar said. "Not least of all you, after all you and Illian and Faenar have done."
Aeründal nodded and smiled; he had a far-away look in his eye and Elaenar knew he was thinking about home.
"What about you? When do you get to take your leave?" Aeründal asked.
"About a month ago." He answered. "I declined it; I decided to stay."
Aeründal shook his head. "That's twice now, isn't it?"
"Yes," Elaenar admitted.
"Elaenar, when was the last time you went home?"
"Three years ago; the last time I took my leave I went to visit a cousin in Lothlorien."
"You haven't seen your family in all that time?" Aeründal asked.
Elaenar shook his head no.
"Do you write to them?"
"We write. Occasionally. They're well, as far as I can gather."
Aeründal paused; his face was knitted into that concerned, empathetic look that Elaenar knew all too well.
"You're a good person, you know that Elaenar?"
Elaenar chuckled awkwardly, pretending not to understand.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Aeründal looked at him knowingly, and shook his head as if to say "I know that you know what I mean."
Aeründal was one of the few people in Elaenar's life who knew about his divorce. It was a de facto divorce because there's no such thing as divorce in elvish culture, there was no legal way to solidify it. He didn't have to think about her anymore after she'd left the continent and sailed west, but the stigma followed him everywhere he went. Elves are supposed to be bound together for life. If one dies the widow/widower never remarries. It was a shameful thing to be separated in elvish culture; and Elaenar knew that his family looked down on him for it. That's why he rarely went home, that's why he served in the volunteer army, to get away. Elaenar's past was a terrible burden and a shameful secret; which is why he never talked about it. But Aeründal was different; he was compassionate, he never judged anyone. He was one of the very few people who Elaenar trusted with his secrets, and there was no one in the world whom Elaenar had a higher opinion of.
The awkward moment was broken when Faenar walked into the room carrying three mugs in his hands.
"Care to help me celebrate something, Aeründal and Elaenar?"
"Celebrate our soon-to-be victory?" Aeründal asked, confused.
"No, something even better." Faenar said, sitting down and handing Elaenar one mug and Aeründal the other.
He pulled out a letter from his breast pocket and handed it to Elaenar.
"Here, read this." He said, beaming.
Elaenar unfolded the letter and skimmed it. He broke into a smile and looked up from the letter to meet Faenar's jubilant gaze.
"Congratulations, Faenar. This is wonderful." He said.
"What is it? Let me see." Aeründal said.
Elaenar handed the letter to his friend. "Faenar's wife is pregnant."
"Faenar!" Aeründal exclaimed, patting his friend on the back. " I'm so happy for you!" It was no secret that Faenar and his wife had struggled to conceive, they had their first child five years ago, they weren't sure if they'd ever have another. Faenar was an adoring father, he talked often and glowling about his only daughter.
"What will you name him, her?"
"Eidril if it's a girl, Gillidar if it's a boy."
"Here's to you, Faenar." Elaenar said, lifting his mug. "And you're wife and child."
They clinked glasses and drank in tandem. The cheery moment was short lived, interrupted when Luthian came storming into the mess hall.
"Elaenar!" Luthian shouted, running into the hall.
Elaenar turned, startled. What the hell had he done now?
"Elaenar! What the hell is going on with the prisoner?"
"What do you mean what's going on with the prisoner?!" Elaenar shouted back, confused and alarmed.
"He's banging on the door and it sounds like he has something in there. Quick, where's the bloody key?"
"It's with me, I have it here."
"Well get up there and check on him, dammit! He's got something in there, I swear it!"
Elaenar leapt from the table and dashed down the hall as fast as he could; heart pounding. Dammitall, what could the little imp possibly be doing? Whatever was going on this was his fault; since apparently it was his prisoner now. He rushed up to the prison cell and sure enough he could hear loud, repetitive banging.
Elaenar jammed the key into the lock, wriggled it around (the pounding on the door stopped immediately) and he flung the door wide open. The little orc was backing himself into the corner just as Elaenar swung the door and stepped inside. Snaga had a terrified look in his yellow eyes; the look of someone who had just been caught red-handed. Elaenar looked around the room, confused. Then he looked at the door plate. It was dented as if some sharp object had been hacking away at it from the inside of the room. The dents were deep; fingernails couldn't have made those marks.
In that instant Elaenar, ever quick-tempered, became furious. He looked the orc in the eye with deadly rage.
"What are you hiding?" He seethed.
Snaga shook his head, shaking. "N-Nothing," He said, his voice trembling. It was a pathetic and obvious lie.
"Turn around! Put your hands against the wall!" Elaenar barked.
Snaga did as he was told and Elaenar patted him down, whipping the knife out from where it was concealed under his shirt.
Elaenar's blood boiled; how could he have have been so stupid? How had he let the little imp swipe a knife from right out under his nose?. He imagined what might have happened if the orc had gotten out, what if he'd killed someone? As the anxiety and anger started rising up inside of him, Elaenar lost his grip on himself. He was furious now.
"Is this nothing to you?" He growled holding the knife against Snaga's throat.
Snaga whimpered and said nothing. Elaenar couldn't let this slide; this was a serious offense. There had to be punishment. Elaenar yanked him back by his hair and pushed him down to his knees.
"Get on the ground!" He commanded. "Put your forehead on the floor."
Snaga complied and lay down on his belly; both hands on either side of his head. Elaenar lifted the orc's tunic over his thighs. He wasn't sure what the appropriate punishment was for stealing and concealing a weapon but it was probably worse than fifteen lashes. When he was finished he put his belt back on and knelt down beside the orc. He grabbed Snaga by his hair, brandishing the knife in his face.
"Don't you ever steal anything again, do you understand?" Elaenar snarled. The orc whined but didn't answer.
"If I ever catch you concealing a weapon from me ever again, I'll give you far worse than fifteen lashes. Do you understand me, Snaga?"
"Yes, master." Snaga whimpered.
Elaenar got up and stormed out of the room. As soon as he slammed the door behind himself he leaned his back against the wall and sunk to the floor. He buried his head in his hands; he took several deep breaths and let the emotions and the anger slowly drain out of him.
What the hell had he just done? Elaenar had never beaten anyone before...he hadn't even been whipped himself as a child. But he wasn't sorry for it; what if the orc had gotten out and killed someone? As he got up off the floor, he grumbled to himself that they needed to somehow get rid of the little creature sooner than later.