Kalin fidgeted with his tunic as he walked up the long, sloping, curvy corridor to where his Prince's chambers lay in the massive underground halls of the Elvenking. The Silvan was nervous but not for himself. No, the Elvenking was irate, as was he often these days, and he had just sent Kalin to fetch the Prince. It did not bode well for Legolas.
There is nothing to be done for it, he thought uneasily, and then asked himself, I cannot stand between father and son, can I? It is not my place.
It was only less than a year ago when the Queen of Eryn Galen died. Her death had been unexpected, horrific, and heartbreaking to her small family, the household and retainers in the palace, and the Silvan people of the Great Forest, all of whom had loved their kind and radiant Queen as much as had her husband and only son. A startling consequence of her death was this: all of Thranduil's good will for the Prince had perished with her, or so it seemed to those within the royal family's innermost circle of servants, guards, and friends. The Elvenking was still the adamant guardian of the Silvan and the forest, he was as diplomatic and shrewd as ever he had been, and he was no less adored by his people than was he before the Queen's demise. In fact, it seemed the Silvan grew ever more enamored with their King the longer he ruled. Not only had Thranduil chosen a Silvan to take to wife, but also, the son she had borne him was raised in the Woodland fashion with Silvan traditions, and was adored by the Wood-Elves for his cheerfulness, for his unmitigated kindness, and for his boundless – albeit somewhat untested – bravery. To most of the populace and despite the realm's constant struggle to safe keep the Greenwood, life was pleasantly simple, just as the Silvan preferred for it to be. Only those who were closest to Thranduil and Legolas – Kalin and a few of the other guards and personal servants, that is – were aware of the growing disturbance in their King's mind. And as far as Kalin knew, he himself might be the only one aware of the true depths of Thranduil's uncalled for antagonism for Thranduilion.
I wish I knew why he wanted Legolas. At least then, I could try to help the Prince prepare for the worst, the sentry pondered as he faltered a moment, pausing as he reached the topmost level of the corridor. One of these days, Thranduil will drive Legolas away with his insults or he will seriously hurt Legolas with his castigation, the sentry worried. Although it was Kalin's duty to protect the Prince with his life, he could not defy his King to do so, and thus, he was forced to be a passive observer to the Elvenking's inexplicably bizarre, mounting odium for the Prince. With a sigh upon realizing he merely stood there lost in thought, Kalin chastised himself, If I do not hurry, I will only make Legolas late, which will only make Thranduil angrier.
The hallway in which he lingered held doors leading to various rooms constituting chambers once belonging to the Queen. At the end opposite of where he dawdled was the door to the Prince's bedchamber, which was where Kalin would find his charge this early morning. On one side of the hallway set a door leading to a library, which had a balcony opening out upon the mountainside, while on the other side of the hallway laid a door leading to a now unused sitting room. In the section of corridor where Kalin remained in distraction over his thoughts, the hallway opened out onto the topmost landing of the main stairwell running through the center of the massive, underground palace; but also, a curve to the left steered one to a meandering corridor leading down an indirect, convoluted path through the mountain fortress. Also at this end and via a short vestibule, another entrance eventuated into the sentry's room. For most of his life as a guard, Kalin had lived in the barracks inside his King's halls, which were located on the second floor, just above his King's suite of personal rooms. But upon being given the honor of becoming his Prince's head sentry, Kalin had requisitioned a room closer to his charge. They were small quarters – just a single room with barely enough space for a bed and desk, but they suited Kalin fine. Being close to Legolas was more important than luxury, and though the kindhearted Prince had offered to convert his sitting room into a bedroom for his sentry, Kalin would not have it. Legolas had once lived nearer to his King several floors below, in a set of less extravagant rooms suitable enough for one so young, but upon the Queen's death, the Prince had moved into her old chambers. The elder Elf would not have his young charge change them in any way – not for Kalin, at least – since he knew Legolas had moved here to be closer to the memory of his Naneth.
Kalin had quickly risen through the ranks of guards. The King's head sentinel – Ninan – was a demanding and exacting leader, but Kalin had thrived well under the strict militarized rule of Ninan and his other superiors. Eventually, he had surpassed most of them through his dedication and unflagging loyalty – and Kalin was nothing if not loyal. Although they mostly trained the young warriors now they were older, his mother and father had always been among the first to volunteer for Thranduil's never-ending war against the Dark forces tainting the Mirkwood forest. His older sister had died in the forest protecting her patrol when it was overrun by Orcs. And as for Kalin – he spent all of his time and energy in the effort to protect the royal family. The Greenwood was more than his family's home – the song of the forest resounded in his family's blood. For Eryn Galen, they had spilt their own blood and the blood of others in protection of it.
Kalin had started his career in the border patrol, following his sister's hallowed footsteps. She was still spoken of reverently amongst the Elves who patrolled the forest for danger; Halrene, her name had been, and she had given her life gladly to save her fellow Silvan in an ill-fated, singlehanded attempt to quell an attack by a band of Yrrch. Thanks to Halrene, her entire patrol company made it back home with only minor injuries. Although there had so far been no wars for Kalin to fight, he now imagined since his responsibility lay with the Prince, he would not be following his parents' example by going off to fight great battles – not unless Legolas went to do so – in which case, nothing would stop Kalin from fighting alongside his Prince.
From the moment he had seen the Elfling babe in his Queen's arms during the birth celebration, Kalin had loved the little princeling. No more fair or adorable than most newborns, the baby had been relatively nondescript. No, at the time, it had been his Queen's ostensible love for her child and Kalin's love for his Queen to cause him to dedicate his life to protecting the Queen's most cherished treasure – the Prince. Although she was gone, Kalin held his oath as sacrosanct. Having lived and breathed for his Prince for years now, the sentry still thought of his charge as a child, but while Legolas was still young in the eyes of his father and people, he was fully grown physically. As were most Elves at his age, Legolas was capable of fighting and dying alongside his brethren, for he was already adept at archery, the long knives he favored over swords, and hand-to-hand combat. With a pride Kalin could not explain, the sentry often watched his Prince contest during the training through which all the young Elves in the Greenwood underwent – whether they intended to be warriors or not, for all in Mirkwood had to be ready to take up arms if needed. Within the next hundred years or so and after having the chance to gain experience, the Prince would be recognized by his father and people as a true warrior. Right now, the Prince was still young enough to have not yet been tried by actual battle, he had only been beyond the safety of his father's halls with stout protection, and even if his body were mature, Legolas remained a gentle, tenderhearted, and innocent Elf.
Kalin's protectiveness over Legolas knew no bounds.
Of course, all this was why he felt such discontent with his current task. I am leading the lamb to slaughter, he railed at himself with an uneasy attempt to clear his throat, even as he struck the bedroom door several times in rapid succession to garner his Prince's attention.
From within the room, the melodic voice of his Prince called out, "Come in, come in."
How many times have I told him not to just invite anyone in without knowing first who it is? the sentry complained. He ought to have the door locked, anyway.
Unlike the King, Legolas did not have guards on his heels constantly. While Thranduil's halls were reasonably safe, Kalin's worrisome imagination believed this small lack of caution could result in his Prince allowing a treacherous person within the room – one who might seek retaliation against Thranduil through hurting Legolas. Then, perhaps, the Prince might learn the lesson of vigilance the hard way, while potentially paying for the lesson with his life. His idling mind cast aside this imagining to focus upon the matter at hand. Kalin would not harangue his Prince over this carelessness today. The young Silvan was likely to be lectured by Thranduil soon enough.
The sentry entered the bedroom to find Legolas sitting near one of the small, round, glass paned windows dotting one side of the wall. Overgrown on the outside of the glass with flowering vines running down this section of the mountain, the windows let in scarce light, which was why the young Wood-Elf was right under one for illumination by which to complete his task. Cross-legged on the floor, the laegel sat with his new bow and a small tub of unguent nearby for burnishing the weapon's wood and string to keep both pliable. When he looked up to see who had come within, the Prince smiled widely at his sentry. Kalin was helpless but to smile back at the younger Silvan. Try though he did to retain always the appearance of reverence and respect for his charge, Kalin found it hard not to treat the Prince as a younger brother. He had quite literally watched over Legolas from the first few days of his life until now, so had seen the fair, happy Elfling grow into an even fairer, merry Elf.
"Kalin!" the Prince called out in warm greeting. "I was just about to go to the archery fields for practice. Want to come with me?"
It was on days like this one when the sentry found his heart aching for the young Elf; he hated to see his Prince upset in any way. After the Queen's death, Legolas had been as distraught as any child who has lost his mother would be; there were now few times where the Prince's natural enthusiasm and cheerfulness resurfaced and returned to how once they had been, except moments like this one, when Legolas felt excitement at the prospect of practicing his archery amongst his friends.
With regret, he came to where Legolas sat, bowed slightly in a belated attempt at a reverential greeting, and disappointed his charge by telling him, "No, my Prince. I've been sent by your father, who requires your presence."
Legolas' smile slowly slid from his face and his shoulders drooped. Carefully placing his rag over the tub of unguent and then sitting his bow upon the nearby small table where he kept it, the uneasy Prince stood to ask, "For what?"
Not liking at all how his fellow Silvan's merriment shifted to a guarded wariness, Kalin admitted, "I do not know, my Prince, but he is upset over something, it seems, and wishes to speak to you of it."
He watched Legolas swallow thickly, as if he had something lodged in his throat. Nodding, the young Elf's typically smiling and carefree face hardened into a mask of stoicism. Already, the Prince had learnt many difficult lessons about pleasing his hard to please King. One of the most important lessons was for Legolas always to maintain a façade of princeliness when around others. Although the young Silvan was usually himself around Kalin – that is, friendly, open, and his emotions honest upon his pale features – right now, Legolas schooled his visage into a strange likeness of Thranduil. It was depressing for Kalin to see.
"I ought not to keep him waiting." Legolas grabbed his leather boots and sat upon the bed to pull them on his bare feet. In quick, harsh jerks, the laegel tightened the straps before he looked up to his sentry. Kalin did not miss the fretfulness with which his charge asked, "Will you be coming with me?"
What the Prince sought but did not want to request was for his sentry to accompany him. The younger Elf did not ask if Kalin was instructed to do so or not, but rather, Legolas asked in his own subtle way whether Kalin minded to escort Legolas so not to leave him to face Thranduil alone. Even if Legolas had not asked, Kalin planned to go, and so assured his charge with what he hoped was a comforting smile, "Yes, I will walk with you, my Prince."
The younger Silvan promptly appeared relieved by Kalin's promise, and as he stood from the bed, Legolas chanced to smile faintly in return. Not wanting to keep his impatient father waiting, Legolas straightened his clothes and hair as they made their way out of the bedroom, for luckily, he had already dressed to go out to the archery range – save for his boots, which barely touched the stairs as the pair rapidly bounded down the twisting main stairwell of the cavern palace. Beloved by his people, Legolas was greeted by or bowed to by everyone whom they passed, and the Prince offered his return greetings with sincerity, though he did not tarry to speak. So common was this sight – the Woodland Prince running down the stairs with his faithful sentry fast upon his heels – many of those whom they passed in their haste gave the two fair Elves indulgent smiles. No one ever doubted Kalin's loyalty to their Prince, nor did they doubt Legolas' trust in his sentry, and while Legolas had no siblings, many of the Eldar privy to the inner workings of the household esteemed how the Prince and guard often acted as if they were brothers.
In the long corridor just before the great hall wherein Thranduil's throne sat, several young Elves with whom the Prince often practiced his warcraft were awaiting Legolas' arrival. They milled about until one caught sight of the Prince. The tallest, eldest, and thus the unspoken ringleader of their youthful band, whose name was Seith, turned and greeted Legolas with an uncivil, "There you are, Legolas! You're late, as usual. And you've forgotten your bow!"
Kalin gritted his teeth to keep from chastising Seith for his irreverence. Although he knew it was by his Prince's insistence for his friends not to greet him with the respectful "Your Highness," Kalin was irked each time he witnessed the Prince's lessers call him by name. If Thranduil ever hears this rabble speak to Legolas as such, he will tan their hides for them, the sentry thought, almost wishing it would happen so it would stop. However, he could hardly complain without being hypocritical, for over the years, Legolas had worn down the sentry in his effort to compel Kalin to stop calling him "Your Highness," though the sentry had merely switched to saying, "my Prince."
Laughing with somewhat forced humor, Legolas strode to where his friends stood, with the guard remaining only a step behind his charge, for Kalin could match his pace to his Prince's stride effortlessly. Kalin's muscles twitched in discomfort as he saw Seith and his brother Vaeril push Legolas with more force than was respectful, although they did so only with youthful, male exuberance and not a wish to harm the Prince.
Chuckling again as he stumbled from the boisterous shoves, the laegel told his friends, "And I will be even later. Go on to the archery field and start without me. I need to speak to our King first."
After some grumbles, Seith, Vaeril, and two other Elves whom Kalin did not know – but whose names he would soon find out, as he kept close watch upon with whom his Prince spent his time – left the corridor and went their way after Legolas promised he would join them shortly. With a wistful glance towards his parting friends, the Prince entered the open doors to the massive, ornate throne room. Devoid of anyone except the two guards standing at the entrance and the two standing outside the small door at the rear of the room, which led to Thranduil's personal rooms, the immense hall echoed their usually soft footsteps as they crossed the polished stone floor. The two sets of guards nodded to Kalin but bowed deeply to their Prince as they passed through each door without being stopped or questioned of their purpose. As the Prince, Legolas had free reign to go where he wished, of course, and as his head sentry and one of the most trusted members in the King's service, so too did Kalin.
As had Kalin earlier on his way to fetch the Prince, Legolas began to slow until his steps faltered completely before reaching the entrance to the King's study. For a moment, ere the mask fell back into place upon his charge's face, Kalin could see Legolas' hopeless distress and unhidden panic; but then, when Legolas turned to speak to his sentry, no hint of his fearful misery showed.
The younger Silvan asked of his elder, "Will you please wait for me?"
"Of course, my Prince," he replied at once, having not intended to do otherwise.
Giving his sentry a despondent but thankful smile, Legolas knocked upon his father's study door. When Thranduil called for him to enter, the timid Prince opened it. Kalin looked within to gauge how upset the King truly was, but he could tell little from Thranduil's demeanor, though as usual, there was a thick stench of spiced wine hanging in the air, as if the Elvenking had spilled a whole vat upon the floor. In truth, Thranduil had been up all night and day drinking, and Kalin realized this once he saw how flushed the King's face was. It was worse than he thought. Having the Elf-King mad at Legolas was bad enough, but enduring the King's temper when Thranduil was drunk… well, the sentry's stomach clenched in fear of what might happen to his charge.
"Thank you, Kalin," his King called out to him for having done as he was asked by bringing the Prince to him.
He bent low at the waist in response. As he rose, the sentry fought the urge to walk inside with his Prince, to be beside him, to protect him from his raging Ada. However, Kalin knew his presence was not wanted and he did not desire to spend the night in the dungeons for disobeying his sovereign; and yet, the sentry hoped Thranduil might keep a tighter rein on his temper if he knew Kalin would remain nearby, and so said for Thranduil's benefit, "I will wait for you, my Prince, and afterwards, we will go to the archery field."
His excitement for the pleasure of practicing with his bow now only abject dread, Legolas nodded distractedly at Kalin and went deeper into his father's study, while Kalin reluctantly shut the door behind him.