Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author's Note: Many, many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter. It was lovely, encouraging, and exactly the motivation I needed to write this one. ;-) I have a rough idea of where the story is going to go, but the details… well, we'll have to see as we get to them.
On another note, I'm planning to start moving my fics over to AO3. (I already have an account there and some of my stories have been posted there.) If anything should happen to FFN, you can find me there.
On with the story!
Part II
Saeldur's bow sang in the darkness. The arrow flew. By the light of the single torch flickering at the target line, he could see it thud into the target dead centre, splitting the arrow before it. It was just a fraction of a second slower than Legolas', which had done the same. Saeldur found himself laughing with the exhilaration of the competition.
"Are the two of you incapable of taking your training seriously?" Bregolien snapped. He had been unable to fault either Saeldur or Legolas for their archery so far, so it was hardly surprising that he jumped on this opportunity. "This is not a joke. Lives might depend on your ability to be fast and accurate with your bows… and you will need to show greater speed and accuracy, I might add, than you are at present. Pay attention."
Saeldur obediently, and with some effort, schooled his face into a neutral expression. Legolas, accustomed to sitting in court, had done that as soon as Bregolien had begun talking. But his eyes still sparkled with mirth.
Bregolien moved on to harangue the next pair, who had sent several arrows to the very edges of the targets and so given him plenty of scope for fault-finding. Saeldur, after checking to ensure that nobody was in earshot, muttered under his breath, "I wonder if he has ever been pleased with anybody's archery. It is easier to get praise from Master Bainion."
Legolas only shrugged and said, "Perhaps he does not enjoy teaching. It cannot be easy."
Saeldur shot him a quick glance. He knew Legolas well enough to recognize that this was one of the polite evasions Legolas offered members of court when asked a difficult question. He was surprised to find himself on the receiving end of one… It was true that it was some years since he and Legolas had spent much time together, but surely Legolas ought to know that Saeldur could be trusted not to repeat idle remarks to Bregolien.
There had, after all, been no quarrel or falling out between them. Saeldur had come of age and begun formal weapons training. Legolas, considered too young for weapons training, had been required to sit in the King's court every morning. Saeldur's parents, particularly his mother, had tried to persuade him to attend court as well, but Saeldur had no interest at all in being shut up indoors listening to Elves like Norgalad drone on about trade terms.
And so Saeldur had ended up spending less and less time with Legolas, and most of his free hours with Arahael and Brethil, who were in his class. Legolas had been too much a child, perhaps was still too much a child, to be as interesting company.
Distracted by his thoughts, Saeldur's next volley was wild, and he noted ruefully that the child looked likely to outdo him every single time.
Fortunately Bregolien was busy telling off Eredhion and did not notice. Rochendilwen, who did, only shook her head in mild reproof. Saeldur made haste to collect the arrows before Bregolien saw.
Bregolien came back just in time to see the end of the next volley. This time Saeldur and Legolas finished at practically the same instant – Saeldur honestly could not have said which of them had the better showing, but he did know this was one of his own best performances.
Bregolien made a sour face.
"Still too slow," he snapped at Legolas. "You are too distracted!"
He moved on without waiting for a response, which was just as well, since Saeldur had his mouth open to protest the unfairness of that. Legolas had surely had the best showing of everyone this evening.
"Let it go," Legolas said. "It is not worth the argument."
At that moment, Rochendilwen called an end to the first part of the drill, distracting Saeldur. She brought out a basket of clay balls, painted dark blue to blend into the trees at night, eliciting a collective groan. It was not for the difficulty of the exercise itself; it was far from the hardest of the drills they would have that night. It was for the fact that this meant one pair at a time would be practising, and would therefore have the benefit of all the attention.
The Elven-king was wakeful. It was long past the time when he would normally have been walking in dreams, particularly since petitions would begin early the next morning. He had ordered it himself, to account for the time when petitions would be suspended during the visit from the Men of Dale. All the same, he wished he had anything else to do in the morning. Petitions invariably brought complaints with them and put him out of humour for the rest of the day.
After the first hour of sleeplessness, Thranduil rose and went to the sitting room. There was no point tossing in bed and keeping Lindariel awake as well. He tried to divert his mind with a book, but nothing could hold his interest. He was sitting by the window gazing out at the stars without actually seeing them when the door opened and his wife came in.
"You are awake, meleth," she said mildly.
"Forgive me, my lady," Thranduil said, wincing. "I did not intend to disturb you."
"I was not sleeping, either." Lindariel sat in the chair opposite Thranduil's. "I know you are concerned about Legolas. So am I."
"He did not come in to dinner this evening."
"He had it with Eredhion and Voronwë in the dining hall."
"As he has done all week." Thranduil sighed. "Forgive me, meleth. I have no right to complain. After all it is because he is my son that he has… that he must… that all of this happens."
"That very much depends on what you mean. I do not like admitting it either, but Legolas is not a child anymore. You might have been a humble cotter, but he would still have adult responsibilities now."
"Not these responsibilities. He would not have been called upon to be a warrior so soon. I know you do not like it – you say nothing, but I can see it. It is not what you wanted for your son. I am sorry to have brought it upon you."
"These are dark times. Legolas is not the only one who has daily weapons training." When Thranduil frowned, unconvinced, Lindariel leaned forward and took his hand in both of hers. "Legolas is no joyless warrior, and you know it as well as I do. Celephindeth's asking for him is proof of that. Legolas is as merry an Elf as I have ever seen… especially in the moonlight in the company of his friends."
Thranduil laughed. "I am grateful that he is of age now. I need not pretend to forbid him from being out of bed at night or take action if it is brought to my attention."
"I think Legolas has known for many years that you did not truly disapprove. Even now, although the guards would not stop him if he left lawfully by the door, I believe he prefers to climb out a window and steal over the garden wall." Lindariel smiled. "He is still a child in many ways, Thranduil."
"He should be allowed to be a child a little longer. I wish I could give him that. If… Lindariel, if he had been growing up in Imladris, or even in Lothlórien…"
"You would have had Legolas grow up under the rule of the Noldor?" Lindariel asked, half-laughing.
Thranduil could find no amusement in the situation. "Perhaps my arrogance has denied Legolas what peace he might otherwise have had… Legolas, and everyone else who dwells in Eryn Galen. I do not have the ability Elrond does to keep my people safe."
"That is foolish, meleth. The Sindar in this realm have seen terrible things. They came here after great trials, fleeing their earlier homes when evil came upon them. I know that. But the Silvan have lived in this forest since long before the Sun and the Moon arose. When the Enemy was not known to Elves and all saw only the beauty of Middle-earth, they chose this as their home. No matter what you said, they would not abandon it. If you stay here and afford them whatever protection you can, that is not arrogance. That is a gift."
"You are wise, my love."
Lindariel shrugged. "The Silvan are my people, and they do not stand high among the Wise. Nor do I. But I know that, as queen, I have done what I could to help them – and my son will fight for them as he fights for all in his father's care. I will not pretend that I like it, but… if it must be so, I can find some comfort in it." She smiled again, bright and sunny. "Have you told Legolas he will be giving up training next week in favour of attending court?"
"I will speak to him tomorrow."
Saeldur pushed up his blindfold.
Finally, he had a better showing than Legolas in something. It was, he had in fairness to admit, because the second class had spent over a year learning to shoot by sound alone. Legolas had done very well for a first attempt.
All the same, Saeldur was unsurprised when Bregolien snapped, "Clearly this is an area that needs practice, Legolas. You missed half of them."
Legolas only nodded, face carefully blank.
"I want to see you for an hour before court begins tomorrow. I would expect you to practice longer, but of course we must all defer to the King's desire to see his heir attend court in the mornings."
Legolas flushed, but, fortunately for him, Bregolien went to the next pair and Legolas and Saeldur were left alone to gather the spent arrows.
"That was unfair," Saeldur said in an undertone as they went to the target line. The previous pair, Meluial and Triwath, had already gathered their arrows and rejoined the others, so there was nobody to overhear. "You did better than many others – even some in the second class."
"Bregolien knows his business," Legolas said lightly.
Saeldur felt, once again, offended by Legolas' lack of trust. For the rest of their training, he made certain to speak of nothing but preparations for the feast that would be held in honour of the Lord of Dale. Legolas joined in that conversation with his customary cheer, perfectly willing to speculate on the likelihood of Galion authorizing the kitchen to use the early berries.
Yet Saeldur was not appeased.
Saeldur returned home in the early dawn, just as the birds were waking. Nobody was stirring yet, other than his brother Candnaur. He was sprawled on the floor of the sitting room, the pages of some dreary document strewn about him.
"What is this?"
Saeldur unslung his quiver and put it, with his bow, on a small table. It would certainly earn his father's disapproval if he saw it – Saeldur's father held strong views on the place for weapons, and the family sitting room was not the place for weapons – but he fully intended to put them away before his parents rose.
"Records of our trade with Dale. This is the first time Naneth is permitting me to take a more active role in the discussions. If I appear unprepared, it will be an Age before she allows it again. Do not speak, Saeldur," Candnaur begged. "It is harder than you would expect to memorize how many barrels of apples Dale has sent us each year."
"You have time. There are – what? Four days before they get here?"
"Three," Candnaur corrected. "Including today. Little enough time for everything I must learn." With a resigned sigh, he looked up. "Will you be in court this morning?"
"What for?"
"You might find it interesting to hear what Naneth and Norgalad have planned. It is time you attended court more regularly, Saeldur. Legolas has been doing it for many years now –"
"Legolas," Saeldur said in frustration.
"What is the matter?" Candnaur put down the paper he was holding, laying it carefully on top of a stack before returning his attention to Saeldur. "I thought you liked Legolas. You were inseparable when you were children."
"And Legolas is different as an adult." Saeldur shrugged. "I do not dislike him. I just… cannot imagine being his friend."
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
Saeldur moved aside some papers so he could sit on the floor opposite Candnaur. Candnaur winced at the disarrangement, but said nothing.
"We had training with the first class last night. Rochendilwen paired me with Legolas."
Candnaur shrugged. "That surprised you? Legolas is as good an archer as you are."
"Legolas is better," Saeldur said, without the slightest trace of envy. "Only a little better, but definitely better."
"That bothers you?"
"Of course not."
"No," agreed Candnaur, studying Saeldur. "I can see that it does not. What is it, then?"
Saeldur sighed. "Arahael calls him a spoilt child. I do not think that is entirely fair… Legolas is pampered, certainly, and in many ways still a child. I do not think he is spoilt."
"But?" Candnaur prompted.
"But he has changed. He is… I do not know how to describe it. He is far less – open – than he was before. Perhaps that is the effect of attending court, and growing accustomed to never saying what one means. That is all the more reason for me not to do it."
"Is that what you think?"
"Are you going to tell me I am wrong?"
"I do not know Legolas very well – I never did – so I will not speculate on whether he is more or less reserved than he was. I will say that if he trusts less easily and guards his tongue more, he has excellent reason for it. You and Arahael are not the only ones to believe Legolas is pampered, and in court nobody scruples to make their opinions known."
Saeldur felt himself flush guiltily, though he had no reason to feel guilt. He was entitled to his opinion.
Rochendilwen slipped into the cottage, trying to be silent. As soon as she entered, she saw there was no need. Her mother and aunt were already awake.
"I thought you would be home hours ago," said her mother. "Have you and Bregolien been giving those poor children grief all this time?"
Her aunt laughed. "Valadhiel, do not discourage her. She is very good with the children – who are not, strictly speaking, children any longer. Whatever Rochendilwen has been doing with them, I am certain it is not nearly as demanding as Master Bainion's drills."
"Indeed not," Rochendilwen said cheerfully. "Naneth, the first daffodils are out by the river. I saw them on my way home."
"I am glad you had time for that. Perhaps we can go and see them again this afternoon. You are not on duty, are you?"
"Not today."
"You should know, Rochendilwen," her aunt said with a smile, "that Master Bainion speaks highly of you… both of your skill as an archer and of your ability to impart that skill to others."
"Bregolien is a far better teacher," Rochendilwen said lightly, "although he has less patience for the nonsense of children… as many of them still are, Aunt Mídhaer, despite being considered adults now."
"Just try to keep the children out of trouble while the Men of Dale are here," said Rochendilwen's mother. "It is going to be difficult enough, considering the trade concessions Celephindeth and Norgalad intend to wring from them. We do not need any distraction caused by young archery students with too much energy."
"Thranduil tells me Celephindeth and Norgalad insist on Legolas' assistance with the Men," Mídhaer said, smiling. "So that is one Elf fewer that you will need to keep out of trouble."
Rochendilwen smiled merrily. "If Legolas is going to be safely occupied, Aunt Mídhaer, there is far less cause for worry."
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