When Elaenar entered the dormitory of his platoon, he observed that not a single elf was asleep in bed. Every soldier was standing about, talking amongst each other anxiously, and when Elaenar walked in all eyes turned to look at him, their faces in awe. He was immediately bombarded with questions, is it true? Are they alive? Are Faenar and Aerundal alright?
Elaenar nodded his head, tears started to form in his eyes.
"Yes, yes, they're alive. They're here now. They're safe." He cast his gaze down to the floor; he didn't mean to cry in front of his comrades.
Findor, with an expression on his face of inexplicable relief, came up to him and embraced him tightly, whispering in his ear "thank you, Elaenar".
Elaenar broke the embrace, not because his appreciation wasn't sincere, but because he couldn't bear the overwhelming emotion of the moment. He nodded respectfully at Findor to acknowledge him. He was deluged by a storm of questions from his comrades-in-arms but he shook his head and pleaded, with tears his eyes:
"Please, please, I just want to go to bed. I don't want to talk right now."
For the first time in several days, Elaenar was able to sleep without any nightmares. Sleep never seemed more precious than after he had been cruelly deprived from it for several nights on end. When he had gone to bed in those early hours of the morning he lay down on his bed and wept tears that were a mixture of gratitude, disbelief, exhaustion, and unspeakable relief that his friends Aeründal and Faenar were alive and well. Elaenar's worst nightmare hadn't come true; there was finally peace in his heart.
But that didn't stop him from being a disgruntled, jaded person by nature. When Lúthian shook him awake he replied with an irritated grunt.
"Our Captain wants to speak with you, Elaenar."
"Thrandar can go hell." He murmured.
Lúthian sighed frustratedly. "He's not going to reprimand you, Elaenar. Just get up and get it over with."
There was a pause before Lúthian broke the silence, saying "You've done a good thing, Elaenar. We're all very grateful to you."
Tears formed in Elaenar's eyes. He sat up and stared down at his lap.
"I can't believe we saved them, Lúthian." He whispered.
"I know," Lúthian said gently while placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.
"I thought they were surely going to d-"
"Shh," Lúthian shushed him. "No more such talk. They're safe now; everything's alright. Don't let that darkness haunt you anymore."
Elaenar nodded; tears flowed down his eyes.
"Come along, now." Lúthian continued. "What's the worst that Thrandar can do? Just get it over and be done with it."
Elaenar got up, got dressed, and made his way to the war room. He knocked before entering; when commanded to enter he walked in, closed the door behind himself, and stood before his Captain astutely in full rigid, military posture. His Captain was sitting at the table.
"Have a seat." Thrandar said flatly.
Elaenar took a seat with all the subtle hostility he could possibly convey. His silent aura was bristling and defensive, despite the fact that not a word of reproach had been spoken against him (yet).
Thrandar paused before speaking. "Was it Lúthian's idea or yours to go rescue Aeründal and Feanar?"
"Mine. It was all my idea."
Captain Thrandar nodded and quietly murmured "mmh," as though he were not at all surprised. "You went behind my back. You defied my authority when you chose not to consult me about your mission."
"Yes. I. Did." Elaenar seethed through gritted teeth. Not a hint of apology or deference was in his voice.
They stared at each other with cold hostility. At length his captain asked; "How did you do it?"
"I found a way. I found a way because I was the only one who cared about them enough to do something to save them."
"How dare you, Elaenar." This time there was a bite to Thrandar's tone. It was a rare thing for this calm and ever-collected commander to show any emotion. Elaenar was a bit shaken to be spoken to that way. He knew in that moment that what he had said was truly, deeply offensive.
"Do I look as though I've slept these last few days?" His Captain asked.
Elaenar's gut sank; it was true. For the first time he noticed the signs of quiet anxiety that had ravished his commander's face over the past few days. Elaenar had been so selfishly self-absorbed in his own pain that he had completely failed to notice the suffering of others around him. In a rare turn of events, Elaenar felt ashamed of the words that had come out of his mouth.
"Believe me, Elaenar, no one felt more guilty and responsible for Aeründal and Feanar's capture than I…" Thrandar continued, his voice nearly cracked as he spoke, "...which is why I am very grateful to you."
Elaenar hung his head with humility and whispered: "Thank you, Captain."
It was all Elaenar needed; to be acknowledged for what he had done to save them.
There was a silent moment of reconciliation between the two elves before Thandar asked:
"Did you make the orc prisoner break Aründal and Faenar free?"
"Yes," Elaenar admitted.
Thrandar shook his head and looked at his subordinate, completely confounded.
"How on earth did you get him to-"
"I don't want to talk about it." Elaenar grumbled; looking away. His face flushed red with guilt, but he brushed the feeling aside with hardened resolve that he would not feel guilty about anything that he had done for the sake of saving their lives.
"Fair enough." His Captain said. Elaenar quickly changed the subject:
"Was Barothir elated to know that his precious siege won't have to be aborted?" Elaenar asked.
"For goodness sake, Elaenar, let go of your bitterness. He isn't heartless. Captain Barothir left early this morning with his men. Our two hundred soldiers stayed behind to hold the fortress."
"That's unusual for them to not want our help for once."
Thrandar rolled his eyes, annoyed that Elaenar had chosen to get political at this moment. It was no secret that the Gondorians were constantly asking for more aid from their elvish allies; writing long-winded, emotionally manipulative letters appealing to elvish kings and queens, begging them to send more soldiers.
"It's a matter of pride for the Gondorian men. They've lost so much these last few hundred years. They deserve the dignity of taking back their own homeland."
"They wouldn't have any homeland at all if it weren't for us." Elaenar noted.
"They're also the buffer between the forces of Mordor and the rest of the free world. You shouldn't resent them. But enough of that. It may have been disobedient of you to subvert me, but it was also very brave of you to take action. You're a hero, Elaenar, for saving them."
Elaenar blushed.
"I've been thinking, how can I repay you for what you've done?"
Elaenar shook his head. "That's not necessary."
"I'd like to recognize you somehow...perhaps a promotion?"
"I could never be a captain."
"I'm sure that if I wrote a letter to our King you could receive a substantial endowment…"
"I didn't do it for money." Elaenar declined the offer.
"There must be something I can do." Thrandar insisted. Elaenar thought for a moment before answering.
"My own room would be nice."
"Excuse me?" The elf commander asked.
"I'm tired of sleeping in the barracks. I know it's not comrad-ly, but I'd appreciate it if I could have my own quarters for once."
Thandar chuckled. "I offer you power and money and all you ask for is privacy. Yes, of course you can have your own quarters. There's a room two halls down from the barracks. You can take it."
"Thank you, Captain." Elaenar said respectfully.
"You're welcome. You're dismissed, soldier. I suggest you go down to the infirmary as soon as possible; I know that Aeründal and Faenar would like to see you."
"There's one more thing," Elaenar said.
"What's that?"
"About the orc prisoner, I was thinking, couldn't we just let him g-"
"Absolutely not." Thrandar said, interrupting him. His tone became gravely serious.
"With all due respect, Captain, it seems to me that-"
"Did you blind-fold the orc prisoner when you led him in-and-out of our fortress?" Thrandar's tone was unusually harsh. Elaenar could tell that his commander was severely displeased with him.
"N-no," He stammered.
"You should have known better." He scolded. "We are surrounded by orc encampments north, east and south of here. Many of them don't even know that we are here; our location has thus far remained a secret. That's why we have been able to maintain our position at this fortress for so long; why we've been able to conduct surprise attacks on the orcs and then retreat without reprisal. If you let him escape there's no telling what he'll do. He could easily lead an army back to our outpost; and then what would we do? Don't you dare release that prisoner, Elaenar. You may have gone behind my back once for the sake of Aeründal and Faenar but don't you dare do it ever again."
"What are we going to do, keep him forever?" Elaenar protested.
"I'll take care of it." Thrandar said while rising. He grabbed his sheathed sword from where it sat on the table and attached it to his waist; then walked towards the door.
Elaenar was shocked; this isn't what he was expecting.
"Wait," He said, turning in his chair to look at his commander who already had one hand on the door handle and his other hand on his sword hilt.
"How are you going to do it?"
"Humanely." Captain Thrandar said flatly.
"No, don't."
"Excuse me?" Thrandar asked, eyebrow raised
"Is-is this necessary?" Elaenar asked.
"Do you object?" Captain Thrandar inquired.
"It's just that-is it ethical to…?" His sentence trailed off.
"I thought you were complaining; should I ask someone else to be prison warden?"
"As if anyone would consent to it," Elaenar grumbled on the inside, but those weren't the words that came out of his mouth. Instead what he said was:
"No. It's fine, it's no burden to me." He said, casting his gaze to the floor. "What the hell have I done?" He thought to himself.
"Very well, then." Thrandar said, opening the door for him.
Elaenar rose from his chair, but before he left his Captain had one last comment:
"If anyone asks you why you're moving out of the barracks, tell them that you're having difficulty sleeping and you need the quiet. I don't want them thinking I am showing favoritism among my soldiers."
Elaenar tacitly nodded before exiting. He went first to the left wing where the elves' barracks were to gather his things and move them to his new room. As he was doing so he noticed that his scalp felt itchy. He went to the lavatory to inspect his irritated head. In the mirror he looked closer to see what was the cause…
Lice! He had fucking lice in his hair! Elaenar let out a disgusted scream.
Where the hell had he contracted lice? He thought and thought; who's hair had he touched recently?
Then the answer hit him like a sack of bricks.
"Son of a bitch!" He cussed under his breath.
