Disclaimer: I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien, but they belong
to him.
As always, thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter.
*******
4. Duty
(August)
Thranduil's family was interrupted as they sat at their morning meal the next day. "My lord," the attendant announced, "a messenger has come for Lord Ithilden."
"By your leave, Adar," Ithilden said and left the room. He returned a short time later, looking perturbed.
"What is it?" Thranduil asked.
"Late yesterday, a patrol from the Home Guard was investigating some caves along the Forest River. Apparently, they had had a report of a stranger in the area. While they were in the cave, there was a rockslide." He paused and shook his head. "The underground rivers along there make the whole cave system very unstable. They were lucky that most of them got out of the way in time, but Deler waited to be sure they were all out, and he was caught." Deler was the captain of the Home Guard unit, which provided the sentries for the palace and patrolled the areas near it. "He is grievously injured. Belówen is not sure he will recover," Ithilden said grimly.
Cries of dismay greeted his announcement. "How could he not have heard the slide and moved in time?" Legolas asked in shock.
"He was seeing to his warriors," Ithilden said simply. He took the sympathetic hand that Alfirin reached out to him and put it to his lips briefly. "I should go and see what I can sort out," he told Thranduil, obviously expecting immediate leave to do so.
But Thranduil rose too. "I would speak with you first in my office," he said and led Ithilden down the hall. The king seated himself at his desk and motioned for Ithilden to be seated too, but his son remained on his feet.
"Adar, I need to see Deler and then decide what to do about the Home Guard," he said impatiently. "Can this not wait?"
"No, it cannot," said Thranduil imperiously. "Sit." Ithilden sat on the edge of the chair, obviously ready to be off again. Thranduil eyed him for a moment and then spoke. "I want you to post Eilian to the Home Guard," he said.
Ithilden's mouth dropped open. "The Home Guard?" he echoed stupidly. Thranduil nodded. "But he will be furious!" Ithilden protested. "And besides, it would be a waste of his talents. He is made for the southern patrol, Adar. You know that he is."
Thranduil was implacable. "With Deler injured, you need an experienced captain," he said.
"I need someone experienced with the Home Guard," Ithilden corrected. "Eilian served there for exactly six months when he first came of age. Then I had to transfer him south. It was at his own request, but still it was something I had to do. He was bored and restless and heading for disciplinary trouble. If he had stayed here, we would never even have known that he could become the talented captain that he is. He belongs in the unpredictable situations that the south breeds. He thrives in them."
"If you do not want him captaining the Home Guard, then appoint him as your permanent adjutant," Thranduil said. "You need the help, Ithilden. Anyone can see that you are wearing yourself out."
"Is that what this is about?" Ithilden asked sharply. "I can do my job, Adar. If you have complaints, you might point them out to me."
Thranduil paused for a moment. "I am not complaining, iôn-nín," he said, more gently, "but you do need help."
"I do not need someone with Eilian's talents," Ithilden said crisply, his feathers still obviously ruffled. "I can get another aide to help me. If you like, I will appoint one today."
"Do so," said Thranduil. Then he added firmly, "But in that case, I am instructing you to appoint Eilian as captain of the Home Guard."
Ithilden's face flushed. "You would take this decision out of my hands?" he asked.
"Yes," said Thranduil.
"May I ask why?" Ithilden's voice was tight.
Thranduil hesitated. He did not want Ithilden to think that he lacked confidence in him, and yet he was reluctant to tell his son about the dream. In the light of day, he feared to appear foolish. He looked to a corner of the room, not meeting Ithilden's eyes. "I have had the same dream twice," he finally said in a low voice. "In it, I saw a warrior being shot out of the trees. I dreamed it first about a month ago and then again last night. I could not see the warrior's face, but I believe that it was Eilian." He looked at Ithilden who was staring at him with an odd expression on his face. "I do not know that the dream was prophetic, but I am not willing to take the chance. It is hard enough to send my sons into danger, but danger is the fate of all of the Woodland Realm's warriors, including my sons. But, Ithilden, when I know - know! - that he will harmed, I cannot send him to that fate. I want him home until whatever was in my dream is past."
There was a long silence. "You first dreamed this about a month ago?" Ithilden asked at last.
"Yes. It was on the night of the day that Belówen said that Eilian's arm was healing," Thranduil said.
Ithilden thought. "That was the day that Alfirin and I realized that the baby was a boy," he said. He looked at Thranduil. "That night, I, too, dreamed of a warrior being shot out of a tree. In my dream, I felt that I should have done something, that the warrior's fall was my fault."
They regarded one another for a moment.
"I cannot tell Eilian that I am assigning him to the Home Guard because we have had dreams," Ithilden said finally. "It would be ridiculous. I cannot even tell him that it is because you are worried about his safety. I would not take that step if the parent of any other warrior were worried."
"Tell him what you like," said Thranduil, shrugging. "You are his commanding officer. In the long run, he is obliged to obey you."
Ithilden grimaced and ran his hand over the dark hair drawn tightly back from his face. "Very well," he said. "He is seeing Belówen today to get final approval for active duty. When he comes to see me, I will tell him. He will not like it," he finished with some apprehension.
"I expect not," said Thranduil grimly and then signaled to Ithilden that he was free to go.
***
Eilian came out of the infirmary and sauntered along the path to Ithilden's office, whistling light-heartedly. The air in the infirmary had been grim, for Deler still hovered in the twilight between life and death, with the healers unable to predict the outcome, and Eilian had been sober enough in the face of Deler's struggle. But once he was out of the building, he could not help rejoicing in his approaching escape from feelings of boredom and uselessness. He entered the outer room of Ithilden's office, and the aide immediately sent him in to see his brother.
Ithilden looked up from the dispatch he was reading, putting his finger on the page to hold his place. "Close the door and sit down," he said. "I will be but a moment." He looked tense, Eilian thought.
"Bad news?" he asked when Ithilden finally finished reading.
"What?" Ithilden looked startled. "Oh, the dispatch. No, not bad news. Just routine."
Eilian shrugged. He had had his fill of the reports that came through Ithilden's office and really did not care what this particular dispatch contained. "I am happy to tell you that Belówen has declared me fit for active duty," he said with a smile. "He will send you word later today."
Ithilden glanced down at the dispatch he had been reading. He tapped it thoughtfully against his desk and then looked up again. He looked unhappy. Faint alarms began to sound in the back of Eilian's head. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
Ithilden sighed. "No," he said. "Nothing is wrong." He drew a deep breath. "I have decided to appoint you captain of the Home Guard," he said.
Eilian blinked. He could not have heard correctly. "The Home Guard," he echoed.
Ithilden nodded.
"You are joking," Eilian said flatly.
"No, I am not," Ithilden said, his voice firm. "Deler is seriously injured and may not recover. I am appointing you as his temporary replacement."
Eilian leapt to his feet. "You have any number of lieutenants who could be appointed to that place," he snapped angrily. "And I am eminently unsuited for it. What are you playing at, Ithilden?"
"Do not take that tone with me," Ithilden ordered, his eyes flashing. "I am your commanding officer, and I will make whatever decisions I think best."
Eilian visibly struggled for control. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "For how long?" he asked stiffly.
"I do not know," answered Ithilden. "That will depend partly on how Deler fares."
"Partly?" Eilian asked. "What else will it depend on?"
For a fraction of a second, Ithilden hesitated. "On how Alfirin and I fare," he answered. Eilian looked startled. "I may need your help," Ithilden said. This was as far as he had been able to bring himself to go in admitting to weakness.
Eilian stared at him skeptically for a moment and then turned away. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and then turned to face Ithilden again. "Answer me one thing," he said coldly. "Is this Adar's doing?"
Ithilden looked at him steadily but said nothing. Eilian smiled bitterly. "I thought so," he said.
"You will report to your new post tomorrow morning," Ithilden told him. "You are dismissed."
Eilian put his hand over his heart in a formal salute and then strode from the room, frightening the aide with the look on his face as he passed.
***
Legolas finished winding the thread around the fletching on the last arrow and carefully stood it upright in the container. This was the second morning that the novices had spent making some arrows for their own personal use and others to be used on the training fields. All of them had made arrows from the time they first began to use a bow, but the youngest novices had never before made them to the exacting standards of the armorers. Legolas had been startled to realize that Corfildor, the chief armorer responsible bows and arrows, was the father of his difficult fellow novice, Galelas.
Corfildor now approached to inspect the work that Legolas had been doing. "Not bad," he said grudgingly. "The nocks are a little too deep, I think, but it is too late to do anything about that now." He moved on around the table, stopping near his son. "You are making a mess of that feather," he said rather sharply. "It is in tatters."
Galelas flushed. From where Legolas sat, the feather did not look particularly ragged, but Corfildor was notoriously hard to please. Galelas glanced up in Legolas's direction, and Legolas hastily looked away, not wanting to be caught watching Galelas being scolded.
Tynd now rose from his place and approached Corfildor. "I beg your pardon, master," he said, "but Lómilad is expecting Galelas, Legolas, Isendir, and Annael for a blade lesson. He asked me to make sure that they were sent back on time."
Corfildor nodded at the older novice. "Very well," he said. "They can go. Those who have not finished can do so later this afternoon." He gestured to the youngest novices, who exited the room into the summer sunshine, glad to be outdoors.
They walked along in two pairs, Galelas and Isendir ahead and Legolas and Annael trailing a short distance behind. It seemed to Legolas that Galelas was even more irritable than usual. He had his head down and was ignoring Isendir's attempts at conversation. He felt a stab of pity that alarmed him because it threatened to disturb his established view of Galelas, and he turned his attention to Annael.
"So what did you and the junior healer talk about last night?" he asked.
"He told Eilian where you were," said Annael indignantly. "He is really an insufferable prig."
Legolas scowled. "Miriwen says that he is like a brother to her," he said.
Annael snorted. "I have never seen either Ithilden or Eilian look at you as he looks at her," he said dryly.
They were nearing the warriors' practice fields, where both of them liked to linger when they could. The skills of the experienced warriors were often breathtaking to watch. As they approached, it because obvious that some sort of unusual event was under way. Warriors were gathered around the edges of the field watching two Elves working with swords. Instead of the expected hum of conversation and occasional cheers, however, the onlookers were almost silent. Galelas and Isendir had stopped to watch, and Legolas and Annael joined them.
With a start, Legolas saw that one of the battling warriors was Eilian. Legolas vaguely recognized the other warrior as one of Eilian's friends, but his attention was caught by his brother. Clutching his sword in a two- handed grip, Eilian swung the weapon in a whirling blur as he backed the other warrior down the field. Eilian's sword work was usually polished and graceful, but this attack was frenzied and almost wild. Even from where Legolas stood, he could see the grim concentration on Eilian's face. As Legolas watched, Eilian drove his opponent to the ground and knocked the sword from his hand. He stood over his fallen adversary for a breathless moment, with his own sword at the fallen warrior's throat. Then he stepped aside, and everyone in the area drew breath. An uneasy murmur spread through the crowd of watchers.
"Who is next?" Eilian challenged, as his defeated opponent rose and slipped off the field. The watching warriors looked away. Legolas stared in shock at the familiar figure, who was and was not his brother Eilian.
"What are you novices doing lingering here?" barked a familiar voice. The four of them spun to find Maldor, the unarmed combat master, glaring at them. Maldor was sometimes harsh, and Legolas both feared and disliked him, feelings he assumed were shared by every novice Maldor had ever taught, up to and including Eilian. "If you do not wish to be on report, then I suggest you get yourselves to wherever you are supposed to be," he snapped. The others moved off immediately, but Legolas hesitated, glancing at Eilian, standing in the middle of the field. "Now, Legolas!" Maldor said sharply.
Legolas had served two different stretches of night guard duty at Maldor's behest, and he did not wish to serve another. He also knew that he had just been given the only warning he would get. He turned and trotted after his three companions, but he could not resist looking back. Maldor had stepped onto the training field and was marching toward Eilian, determination in every step. Unexpectedly, Legolas was relieved. If Thranduil could not be here to deal with this frightening situation, then no one could bring order out of chaos more quickly than Maldor. Somewhat reassured, Legolas ran to where Annael was waiting for him.
Eilian watched, cursing to himself, as Maldor approached. He fantasized very briefly about attacking the unarmed combat master, and then, as Maldor reached him, he waited in resignation for the older Elf to open his annoying mouth.
"Get hold of yourself, Eilian," Maldor snapped in a low voice. "You are behaving in a disgracefully uncontrolled manner."
Eilian smiled offensively at him. "I am a warrior, Maldor, not a minder of elflings. I occasionally like to remember that."
Maldor narrowed his eyes. "Give me your sword," he demanded, holding out his hand. "I will have it sent to the palace for you."
Eilian laughed shortly. "I think not," he said. "I have already been deprived of enough today." He sheathed the sword and walked off the field, disappearing into the woods along its edge.
***
Ithilden was weary to the bone. He entered his and Alfirin's sitting room to find his wife at her loom, weaving one of the soft, multicolored blankets that she intended to use to protect their child from Mirkwood's winter cold. She stopped what she was doing when he came in. "You are late," she said.
"I stopped at the infirmary to check on Deler on my way home," he said, coming to kiss her forehead in greeting.
"How is he?" she asked.
He shook his head. "The same." He flung himself into a chair near where she sat.
She studied him. "Is something the matter?" she asked.
He grimaced. Ithilden was not one to admit to questioning his own actions, but he had found that acknowledging his doubts to Alfirin was always comforting and often helpful. "I had an unpleasant scene with Eilian," he admitted and then went on to tell her about Thranduil's request and Eilian's reaction to his appointment to the Home Guard. "I am still not sure I did the right thing," he finished. "I would not have allowed the parent of any other warrior to direct my actions like that."
She looked thoughtful. "If another warrior's father came to you and said he had had a prophetic dream, I think that you might have done the same thing," she said, and then added, with a smile, "and Eilian's parent is the king to whom you answer."
He smiled back at her. "I know," he said ruefully. He leaned back in his chair. "I hate being at odds with Eilian," he said, "moreover I worry that keeping him here was selfish on my part, for I do think that if he ever manages to forgive me, his advice would be of assistance to me. He is very shrewd."
She rose and came to him. He rose to meet her and she put her arms around him. "Come, Ithilden, you did your best. There is no point in worrying about it. After a time, Adar will be reassured, and you can send Eilian back to his patrol." She reached up and kissed him.
He looked at her quizzically. "Are you trying to seduce me, lady wife?" he asked.
She laughed. "I wish that I could, but we must dress for tonight's feasting. There should be at least one more night of shooting stars, I think."
With only a minimum of distracting activity, they managed to dress formally and then join Thranduil where he waited in the family's sitting room.
"Have you spoken to Eilian?" Thranduil asked.
Ithilden nodded. "He is to report for duty with the Home Guard tomorrow. I should tell you, Adar, that he asked me if you were responsible for the posting. I did not say that you were, but he guessed it, and he was angry."
Thranduil was undisturbed. "He has been angry with me before," he said. "I would rather have him angry than dead." His bluntness stopped all conversation for a moment, and then Legolas entered, adjusting his circlet as he came.
"You look very dignified, Legolas," Thranduil approved.
Legolas brightened. Perhaps his father was in a generous mood. "Adar, may I - " he began.
"No, you may not," Thranduil interrupted him. "You failed to come back when you were told to last night. Tonight, you will stay where you belong." Legolas's face flushed, but he did not attempt to argue. Thranduil's tone made it clear that he was serious and that protests would not be taken well.
At the last minute, Eilian strode into the room. He was dressed appropriately, but he did not greet them or smile. He stood in silence near the door, regarding Ithilden and Thranduil disdainfully.
Legolas felt distinctly worried. First, Eilian had been frighteningly wild at the practice fields, and now he was plainly at odds with both his father and Ithilden. Where was his light-hearted, playful brother?
Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "I will not put up with sulkiness, Eilian. What is done is done. Accept it and behave with dignity."
Eilian's eyes flashed. "You have left me very little dignity, Adar. I am to be coddled at home like an elfling."
This was the first that Legolas had heard of Eilian remaining at home. He did not know what to make of this surprising turn of events, but it was plain that Eilian was unhappy.
"You are to serve the Realm in the way I think best," Thranduil said sharply and led his family out the door and toward the green where the Elves of Mirkwood waited.
Legolas sat through the feast as patiently as he could. He was worried about Eilian but could get no answer from him when he asked what the matter was. He saw Annael and their friend Tonduil laughing together as they swung up into a tree to watch the star shower and wished intensely that he could join them. And then, as Elves began to spread across the green to watch the shooting stars, he saw something in the crowd that dismayed him. Miriwen's family settled on a rug near the center of the green. They all lay back, the better to see the stars, and next to Miriwen lay Falad. Legolas saw very little of the stars that evening, for his eyes kept coming back to where Falad was pointing bright star trails out to Miriwen and speaking into her ear. He did not touch her, but Legolas nonetheless burned with jealousy and with frustration that Thranduil kept him at his side as part of the pageantry of royalty.
As the star shower began to slow and fade for another night, one of Ithilden's aides approached and handed him a message. He read it and then handed it to Thranduil, his face grim. "Deler has died," he said soberly. "I must go to see his family."
"Go," said Thranduil, glancing at the note.
Ithilden rose wearily, stripped off his formal robe and circlet and handed them to an attendant. He bent and kissed Alfirin's cheek. "Do not wait up for me," he told her. "I may be very late." Then he disappeared into the night.
On the other side of Thranduil, Eilian had heard Ithilden's announcement of the message's contents. In the back of his mind, he heard a sound like the closing of a cage door.
That night, duty weighed heavily on all of Thranduil's sons.
*******
Thank you again to all readers and reviewers.
Dragon-of-the-north: Looks like Eilian is going to get a chance to learn some things about his role as Thranduil's son!
Luin: You are so sharp! Yes, Eilian sleeping next to Thranduil does seem to resemble the novice who daydreamed while Eilian taught. Too bad he can't see himself as he sees that novice.
Seanthi: You asked for a new chapter and here it is. I hope you liked it. And thank you for taking the time to review.
JastaElf: I stood in my apartment parking lot this winter and watched a wonderful meteor shower in the middle of the night. I can only imagine how excited Elves would get. It was magical.
Caz-baz: What I wish for is the ability to teleport so that I don't have to take boring long car trips. But in the meantime, I, like Eilian, have to settle for daydreaming and hope that I don't get so distracted that something bad happens!
StrangeBlaze: You're a prophet! Something did happen to make Eilian stay. But I don't think he's happy about it.
WildIris: LOL about Falad and Galelas forming a club. I hope Thranduil isn't exploiting his position too much here. I tried to make his reaction understandable anyway.
Jambaby1963: We'll have to see where I'm going with this story. I thought I knew and then this week, I found I wasn't sure. I think I've sorted it. I hope I've sorted it out.
TreeHugger: That's interesting about Eilian resembling soldiers who have trouble adjusting to being home after a war. I wonder if that was a problem for people like those in ME where the war lasted centuries. I suppose most of them never got to find out because there was no peace.
JustMe: I'm really glad you can picture what's happening. I picture it as I write. I wonder if we have the same picture? :-)
Feanen: Hope you liked this chapter too, even without Galelas.
Jay of Lasgalen: Thranduil would be a scary adar because, as you say, he doesn't miss a thing. I think I'll give Legolas some time off in the next chapter.
Casualis: I think you're right: Legolas will have to make a choice. Sad, no?
Fadesintothewest: Thranduil did what he thought best in this chapter and at least he kept Eilian around in this story!
None: It does seem as if being Thranduil's son is a pretty big burden for all three of them.
Erunyauve: Thranduil is pretty strict, I think, and that's probably for the best. Even well intentioned kids can get themselves in too deep.
Larian Elensar: Eilian is a pretty good brother, although I think he scares Legolas here.
Nilmandra: The thing about timelessness is that I can picture it in the long run (they have years to do things) but not in the short run. The day is marked by the need to eat and sleep and so on. So I can't see how one could feel the effect of infinite time there.
Dot: I think I got the thing about not being addressed as "my lord" until he's of age from Jocelyn's "A Little Nudge Out the Door." She uses it there. If you have not read this story, run and do it right now. It's wonderful.
Kay: Tolkien says that Elves come of age around age 50, although some don't reach full maturity until 100. In this story, Legolas is 42, which makes him roughly just turned 17.
Puxinette: Well the people who had words over Thranduil's dream were Eilian and Ithilden. And they were tense words too!
Dy: You were so right! Eilian was not happy at all.
Cestari: I'm glad you like the new story. We'll see how the lovebirds do in the long run.
As always, thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter.
*******
4. Duty
(August)
Thranduil's family was interrupted as they sat at their morning meal the next day. "My lord," the attendant announced, "a messenger has come for Lord Ithilden."
"By your leave, Adar," Ithilden said and left the room. He returned a short time later, looking perturbed.
"What is it?" Thranduil asked.
"Late yesterday, a patrol from the Home Guard was investigating some caves along the Forest River. Apparently, they had had a report of a stranger in the area. While they were in the cave, there was a rockslide." He paused and shook his head. "The underground rivers along there make the whole cave system very unstable. They were lucky that most of them got out of the way in time, but Deler waited to be sure they were all out, and he was caught." Deler was the captain of the Home Guard unit, which provided the sentries for the palace and patrolled the areas near it. "He is grievously injured. Belówen is not sure he will recover," Ithilden said grimly.
Cries of dismay greeted his announcement. "How could he not have heard the slide and moved in time?" Legolas asked in shock.
"He was seeing to his warriors," Ithilden said simply. He took the sympathetic hand that Alfirin reached out to him and put it to his lips briefly. "I should go and see what I can sort out," he told Thranduil, obviously expecting immediate leave to do so.
But Thranduil rose too. "I would speak with you first in my office," he said and led Ithilden down the hall. The king seated himself at his desk and motioned for Ithilden to be seated too, but his son remained on his feet.
"Adar, I need to see Deler and then decide what to do about the Home Guard," he said impatiently. "Can this not wait?"
"No, it cannot," said Thranduil imperiously. "Sit." Ithilden sat on the edge of the chair, obviously ready to be off again. Thranduil eyed him for a moment and then spoke. "I want you to post Eilian to the Home Guard," he said.
Ithilden's mouth dropped open. "The Home Guard?" he echoed stupidly. Thranduil nodded. "But he will be furious!" Ithilden protested. "And besides, it would be a waste of his talents. He is made for the southern patrol, Adar. You know that he is."
Thranduil was implacable. "With Deler injured, you need an experienced captain," he said.
"I need someone experienced with the Home Guard," Ithilden corrected. "Eilian served there for exactly six months when he first came of age. Then I had to transfer him south. It was at his own request, but still it was something I had to do. He was bored and restless and heading for disciplinary trouble. If he had stayed here, we would never even have known that he could become the talented captain that he is. He belongs in the unpredictable situations that the south breeds. He thrives in them."
"If you do not want him captaining the Home Guard, then appoint him as your permanent adjutant," Thranduil said. "You need the help, Ithilden. Anyone can see that you are wearing yourself out."
"Is that what this is about?" Ithilden asked sharply. "I can do my job, Adar. If you have complaints, you might point them out to me."
Thranduil paused for a moment. "I am not complaining, iôn-nín," he said, more gently, "but you do need help."
"I do not need someone with Eilian's talents," Ithilden said crisply, his feathers still obviously ruffled. "I can get another aide to help me. If you like, I will appoint one today."
"Do so," said Thranduil. Then he added firmly, "But in that case, I am instructing you to appoint Eilian as captain of the Home Guard."
Ithilden's face flushed. "You would take this decision out of my hands?" he asked.
"Yes," said Thranduil.
"May I ask why?" Ithilden's voice was tight.
Thranduil hesitated. He did not want Ithilden to think that he lacked confidence in him, and yet he was reluctant to tell his son about the dream. In the light of day, he feared to appear foolish. He looked to a corner of the room, not meeting Ithilden's eyes. "I have had the same dream twice," he finally said in a low voice. "In it, I saw a warrior being shot out of the trees. I dreamed it first about a month ago and then again last night. I could not see the warrior's face, but I believe that it was Eilian." He looked at Ithilden who was staring at him with an odd expression on his face. "I do not know that the dream was prophetic, but I am not willing to take the chance. It is hard enough to send my sons into danger, but danger is the fate of all of the Woodland Realm's warriors, including my sons. But, Ithilden, when I know - know! - that he will harmed, I cannot send him to that fate. I want him home until whatever was in my dream is past."
There was a long silence. "You first dreamed this about a month ago?" Ithilden asked at last.
"Yes. It was on the night of the day that Belówen said that Eilian's arm was healing," Thranduil said.
Ithilden thought. "That was the day that Alfirin and I realized that the baby was a boy," he said. He looked at Thranduil. "That night, I, too, dreamed of a warrior being shot out of a tree. In my dream, I felt that I should have done something, that the warrior's fall was my fault."
They regarded one another for a moment.
"I cannot tell Eilian that I am assigning him to the Home Guard because we have had dreams," Ithilden said finally. "It would be ridiculous. I cannot even tell him that it is because you are worried about his safety. I would not take that step if the parent of any other warrior were worried."
"Tell him what you like," said Thranduil, shrugging. "You are his commanding officer. In the long run, he is obliged to obey you."
Ithilden grimaced and ran his hand over the dark hair drawn tightly back from his face. "Very well," he said. "He is seeing Belówen today to get final approval for active duty. When he comes to see me, I will tell him. He will not like it," he finished with some apprehension.
"I expect not," said Thranduil grimly and then signaled to Ithilden that he was free to go.
***
Eilian came out of the infirmary and sauntered along the path to Ithilden's office, whistling light-heartedly. The air in the infirmary had been grim, for Deler still hovered in the twilight between life and death, with the healers unable to predict the outcome, and Eilian had been sober enough in the face of Deler's struggle. But once he was out of the building, he could not help rejoicing in his approaching escape from feelings of boredom and uselessness. He entered the outer room of Ithilden's office, and the aide immediately sent him in to see his brother.
Ithilden looked up from the dispatch he was reading, putting his finger on the page to hold his place. "Close the door and sit down," he said. "I will be but a moment." He looked tense, Eilian thought.
"Bad news?" he asked when Ithilden finally finished reading.
"What?" Ithilden looked startled. "Oh, the dispatch. No, not bad news. Just routine."
Eilian shrugged. He had had his fill of the reports that came through Ithilden's office and really did not care what this particular dispatch contained. "I am happy to tell you that Belówen has declared me fit for active duty," he said with a smile. "He will send you word later today."
Ithilden glanced down at the dispatch he had been reading. He tapped it thoughtfully against his desk and then looked up again. He looked unhappy. Faint alarms began to sound in the back of Eilian's head. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
Ithilden sighed. "No," he said. "Nothing is wrong." He drew a deep breath. "I have decided to appoint you captain of the Home Guard," he said.
Eilian blinked. He could not have heard correctly. "The Home Guard," he echoed.
Ithilden nodded.
"You are joking," Eilian said flatly.
"No, I am not," Ithilden said, his voice firm. "Deler is seriously injured and may not recover. I am appointing you as his temporary replacement."
Eilian leapt to his feet. "You have any number of lieutenants who could be appointed to that place," he snapped angrily. "And I am eminently unsuited for it. What are you playing at, Ithilden?"
"Do not take that tone with me," Ithilden ordered, his eyes flashing. "I am your commanding officer, and I will make whatever decisions I think best."
Eilian visibly struggled for control. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "For how long?" he asked stiffly.
"I do not know," answered Ithilden. "That will depend partly on how Deler fares."
"Partly?" Eilian asked. "What else will it depend on?"
For a fraction of a second, Ithilden hesitated. "On how Alfirin and I fare," he answered. Eilian looked startled. "I may need your help," Ithilden said. This was as far as he had been able to bring himself to go in admitting to weakness.
Eilian stared at him skeptically for a moment and then turned away. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and then turned to face Ithilden again. "Answer me one thing," he said coldly. "Is this Adar's doing?"
Ithilden looked at him steadily but said nothing. Eilian smiled bitterly. "I thought so," he said.
"You will report to your new post tomorrow morning," Ithilden told him. "You are dismissed."
Eilian put his hand over his heart in a formal salute and then strode from the room, frightening the aide with the look on his face as he passed.
***
Legolas finished winding the thread around the fletching on the last arrow and carefully stood it upright in the container. This was the second morning that the novices had spent making some arrows for their own personal use and others to be used on the training fields. All of them had made arrows from the time they first began to use a bow, but the youngest novices had never before made them to the exacting standards of the armorers. Legolas had been startled to realize that Corfildor, the chief armorer responsible bows and arrows, was the father of his difficult fellow novice, Galelas.
Corfildor now approached to inspect the work that Legolas had been doing. "Not bad," he said grudgingly. "The nocks are a little too deep, I think, but it is too late to do anything about that now." He moved on around the table, stopping near his son. "You are making a mess of that feather," he said rather sharply. "It is in tatters."
Galelas flushed. From where Legolas sat, the feather did not look particularly ragged, but Corfildor was notoriously hard to please. Galelas glanced up in Legolas's direction, and Legolas hastily looked away, not wanting to be caught watching Galelas being scolded.
Tynd now rose from his place and approached Corfildor. "I beg your pardon, master," he said, "but Lómilad is expecting Galelas, Legolas, Isendir, and Annael for a blade lesson. He asked me to make sure that they were sent back on time."
Corfildor nodded at the older novice. "Very well," he said. "They can go. Those who have not finished can do so later this afternoon." He gestured to the youngest novices, who exited the room into the summer sunshine, glad to be outdoors.
They walked along in two pairs, Galelas and Isendir ahead and Legolas and Annael trailing a short distance behind. It seemed to Legolas that Galelas was even more irritable than usual. He had his head down and was ignoring Isendir's attempts at conversation. He felt a stab of pity that alarmed him because it threatened to disturb his established view of Galelas, and he turned his attention to Annael.
"So what did you and the junior healer talk about last night?" he asked.
"He told Eilian where you were," said Annael indignantly. "He is really an insufferable prig."
Legolas scowled. "Miriwen says that he is like a brother to her," he said.
Annael snorted. "I have never seen either Ithilden or Eilian look at you as he looks at her," he said dryly.
They were nearing the warriors' practice fields, where both of them liked to linger when they could. The skills of the experienced warriors were often breathtaking to watch. As they approached, it because obvious that some sort of unusual event was under way. Warriors were gathered around the edges of the field watching two Elves working with swords. Instead of the expected hum of conversation and occasional cheers, however, the onlookers were almost silent. Galelas and Isendir had stopped to watch, and Legolas and Annael joined them.
With a start, Legolas saw that one of the battling warriors was Eilian. Legolas vaguely recognized the other warrior as one of Eilian's friends, but his attention was caught by his brother. Clutching his sword in a two- handed grip, Eilian swung the weapon in a whirling blur as he backed the other warrior down the field. Eilian's sword work was usually polished and graceful, but this attack was frenzied and almost wild. Even from where Legolas stood, he could see the grim concentration on Eilian's face. As Legolas watched, Eilian drove his opponent to the ground and knocked the sword from his hand. He stood over his fallen adversary for a breathless moment, with his own sword at the fallen warrior's throat. Then he stepped aside, and everyone in the area drew breath. An uneasy murmur spread through the crowd of watchers.
"Who is next?" Eilian challenged, as his defeated opponent rose and slipped off the field. The watching warriors looked away. Legolas stared in shock at the familiar figure, who was and was not his brother Eilian.
"What are you novices doing lingering here?" barked a familiar voice. The four of them spun to find Maldor, the unarmed combat master, glaring at them. Maldor was sometimes harsh, and Legolas both feared and disliked him, feelings he assumed were shared by every novice Maldor had ever taught, up to and including Eilian. "If you do not wish to be on report, then I suggest you get yourselves to wherever you are supposed to be," he snapped. The others moved off immediately, but Legolas hesitated, glancing at Eilian, standing in the middle of the field. "Now, Legolas!" Maldor said sharply.
Legolas had served two different stretches of night guard duty at Maldor's behest, and he did not wish to serve another. He also knew that he had just been given the only warning he would get. He turned and trotted after his three companions, but he could not resist looking back. Maldor had stepped onto the training field and was marching toward Eilian, determination in every step. Unexpectedly, Legolas was relieved. If Thranduil could not be here to deal with this frightening situation, then no one could bring order out of chaos more quickly than Maldor. Somewhat reassured, Legolas ran to where Annael was waiting for him.
Eilian watched, cursing to himself, as Maldor approached. He fantasized very briefly about attacking the unarmed combat master, and then, as Maldor reached him, he waited in resignation for the older Elf to open his annoying mouth.
"Get hold of yourself, Eilian," Maldor snapped in a low voice. "You are behaving in a disgracefully uncontrolled manner."
Eilian smiled offensively at him. "I am a warrior, Maldor, not a minder of elflings. I occasionally like to remember that."
Maldor narrowed his eyes. "Give me your sword," he demanded, holding out his hand. "I will have it sent to the palace for you."
Eilian laughed shortly. "I think not," he said. "I have already been deprived of enough today." He sheathed the sword and walked off the field, disappearing into the woods along its edge.
***
Ithilden was weary to the bone. He entered his and Alfirin's sitting room to find his wife at her loom, weaving one of the soft, multicolored blankets that she intended to use to protect their child from Mirkwood's winter cold. She stopped what she was doing when he came in. "You are late," she said.
"I stopped at the infirmary to check on Deler on my way home," he said, coming to kiss her forehead in greeting.
"How is he?" she asked.
He shook his head. "The same." He flung himself into a chair near where she sat.
She studied him. "Is something the matter?" she asked.
He grimaced. Ithilden was not one to admit to questioning his own actions, but he had found that acknowledging his doubts to Alfirin was always comforting and often helpful. "I had an unpleasant scene with Eilian," he admitted and then went on to tell her about Thranduil's request and Eilian's reaction to his appointment to the Home Guard. "I am still not sure I did the right thing," he finished. "I would not have allowed the parent of any other warrior to direct my actions like that."
She looked thoughtful. "If another warrior's father came to you and said he had had a prophetic dream, I think that you might have done the same thing," she said, and then added, with a smile, "and Eilian's parent is the king to whom you answer."
He smiled back at her. "I know," he said ruefully. He leaned back in his chair. "I hate being at odds with Eilian," he said, "moreover I worry that keeping him here was selfish on my part, for I do think that if he ever manages to forgive me, his advice would be of assistance to me. He is very shrewd."
She rose and came to him. He rose to meet her and she put her arms around him. "Come, Ithilden, you did your best. There is no point in worrying about it. After a time, Adar will be reassured, and you can send Eilian back to his patrol." She reached up and kissed him.
He looked at her quizzically. "Are you trying to seduce me, lady wife?" he asked.
She laughed. "I wish that I could, but we must dress for tonight's feasting. There should be at least one more night of shooting stars, I think."
With only a minimum of distracting activity, they managed to dress formally and then join Thranduil where he waited in the family's sitting room.
"Have you spoken to Eilian?" Thranduil asked.
Ithilden nodded. "He is to report for duty with the Home Guard tomorrow. I should tell you, Adar, that he asked me if you were responsible for the posting. I did not say that you were, but he guessed it, and he was angry."
Thranduil was undisturbed. "He has been angry with me before," he said. "I would rather have him angry than dead." His bluntness stopped all conversation for a moment, and then Legolas entered, adjusting his circlet as he came.
"You look very dignified, Legolas," Thranduil approved.
Legolas brightened. Perhaps his father was in a generous mood. "Adar, may I - " he began.
"No, you may not," Thranduil interrupted him. "You failed to come back when you were told to last night. Tonight, you will stay where you belong." Legolas's face flushed, but he did not attempt to argue. Thranduil's tone made it clear that he was serious and that protests would not be taken well.
At the last minute, Eilian strode into the room. He was dressed appropriately, but he did not greet them or smile. He stood in silence near the door, regarding Ithilden and Thranduil disdainfully.
Legolas felt distinctly worried. First, Eilian had been frighteningly wild at the practice fields, and now he was plainly at odds with both his father and Ithilden. Where was his light-hearted, playful brother?
Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "I will not put up with sulkiness, Eilian. What is done is done. Accept it and behave with dignity."
Eilian's eyes flashed. "You have left me very little dignity, Adar. I am to be coddled at home like an elfling."
This was the first that Legolas had heard of Eilian remaining at home. He did not know what to make of this surprising turn of events, but it was plain that Eilian was unhappy.
"You are to serve the Realm in the way I think best," Thranduil said sharply and led his family out the door and toward the green where the Elves of Mirkwood waited.
Legolas sat through the feast as patiently as he could. He was worried about Eilian but could get no answer from him when he asked what the matter was. He saw Annael and their friend Tonduil laughing together as they swung up into a tree to watch the star shower and wished intensely that he could join them. And then, as Elves began to spread across the green to watch the shooting stars, he saw something in the crowd that dismayed him. Miriwen's family settled on a rug near the center of the green. They all lay back, the better to see the stars, and next to Miriwen lay Falad. Legolas saw very little of the stars that evening, for his eyes kept coming back to where Falad was pointing bright star trails out to Miriwen and speaking into her ear. He did not touch her, but Legolas nonetheless burned with jealousy and with frustration that Thranduil kept him at his side as part of the pageantry of royalty.
As the star shower began to slow and fade for another night, one of Ithilden's aides approached and handed him a message. He read it and then handed it to Thranduil, his face grim. "Deler has died," he said soberly. "I must go to see his family."
"Go," said Thranduil, glancing at the note.
Ithilden rose wearily, stripped off his formal robe and circlet and handed them to an attendant. He bent and kissed Alfirin's cheek. "Do not wait up for me," he told her. "I may be very late." Then he disappeared into the night.
On the other side of Thranduil, Eilian had heard Ithilden's announcement of the message's contents. In the back of his mind, he heard a sound like the closing of a cage door.
That night, duty weighed heavily on all of Thranduil's sons.
*******
Thank you again to all readers and reviewers.
Dragon-of-the-north: Looks like Eilian is going to get a chance to learn some things about his role as Thranduil's son!
Luin: You are so sharp! Yes, Eilian sleeping next to Thranduil does seem to resemble the novice who daydreamed while Eilian taught. Too bad he can't see himself as he sees that novice.
Seanthi: You asked for a new chapter and here it is. I hope you liked it. And thank you for taking the time to review.
JastaElf: I stood in my apartment parking lot this winter and watched a wonderful meteor shower in the middle of the night. I can only imagine how excited Elves would get. It was magical.
Caz-baz: What I wish for is the ability to teleport so that I don't have to take boring long car trips. But in the meantime, I, like Eilian, have to settle for daydreaming and hope that I don't get so distracted that something bad happens!
StrangeBlaze: You're a prophet! Something did happen to make Eilian stay. But I don't think he's happy about it.
WildIris: LOL about Falad and Galelas forming a club. I hope Thranduil isn't exploiting his position too much here. I tried to make his reaction understandable anyway.
Jambaby1963: We'll have to see where I'm going with this story. I thought I knew and then this week, I found I wasn't sure. I think I've sorted it. I hope I've sorted it out.
TreeHugger: That's interesting about Eilian resembling soldiers who have trouble adjusting to being home after a war. I wonder if that was a problem for people like those in ME where the war lasted centuries. I suppose most of them never got to find out because there was no peace.
JustMe: I'm really glad you can picture what's happening. I picture it as I write. I wonder if we have the same picture? :-)
Feanen: Hope you liked this chapter too, even without Galelas.
Jay of Lasgalen: Thranduil would be a scary adar because, as you say, he doesn't miss a thing. I think I'll give Legolas some time off in the next chapter.
Casualis: I think you're right: Legolas will have to make a choice. Sad, no?
Fadesintothewest: Thranduil did what he thought best in this chapter and at least he kept Eilian around in this story!
None: It does seem as if being Thranduil's son is a pretty big burden for all three of them.
Erunyauve: Thranduil is pretty strict, I think, and that's probably for the best. Even well intentioned kids can get themselves in too deep.
Larian Elensar: Eilian is a pretty good brother, although I think he scares Legolas here.
Nilmandra: The thing about timelessness is that I can picture it in the long run (they have years to do things) but not in the short run. The day is marked by the need to eat and sleep and so on. So I can't see how one could feel the effect of infinite time there.
Dot: I think I got the thing about not being addressed as "my lord" until he's of age from Jocelyn's "A Little Nudge Out the Door." She uses it there. If you have not read this story, run and do it right now. It's wonderful.
Kay: Tolkien says that Elves come of age around age 50, although some don't reach full maturity until 100. In this story, Legolas is 42, which makes him roughly just turned 17.
Puxinette: Well the people who had words over Thranduil's dream were Eilian and Ithilden. And they were tense words too!
Dy: You were so right! Eilian was not happy at all.
Cestari: I'm glad you like the new story. We'll see how the lovebirds do in the long run.