Author's Note: Many thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing. Work continues to be… challenging. But, on the bright side, I may finally be able to make that long-overdue trip to visit family soon.
Part VIII
The rain that had begun early in the afternoon went on into the evening, showing no signs of abating. The visiting Men looked at the grey prospect and stayed indoors by the fire, to the bemusement of their Elven hosts, who did not understand their talk of damp feet and catching cold.
The rain made no difference to training. The weapons masters of Greenwood trained their students in all weathers. Rain and snow were regarded as good opportunities for lessons in keeping one's footing when the ground grew slippery.
Saeldur faced Arahael across the sparring field. They were standing in over an inch of mud. The driving rain was more an irritant than a serious impediment to duelling. Saeldur, water running in rivulets down his face, held his knives in an easy grip, waiting for Arahael to make the first move.
He did not have long to wait. Arahael had very little patience, and he attacked with a wild slash that allowed Saeldur to void easily.
"Arahael!" snapped Tathar, the weapons master who was overseeing them. "Patience! And mind your feet. If you lost your footing in this wet, an opponent would have you in a heartbeat"
Arahael inclined his head, saying nothing while Tathar's eyes were still on them. As soon as he had moved on to harangue the next pair, he said, "Saeldur, did you learn anything from the Man? I heard you spent hours with him this afternoon."
"Hardly hours," Saeldur said. "I learnt nothing I did not already know."
Arahael, with some splashing, but fortunately not enough to draw Tathar's attention, took up a guard position again.
"He did not tell you what Legolas did to offend him?" he asked.
Saeldur laughed. "Surely you know Legolas well enough to know the answer to that. Is he likely to do anything to offend the King's guests? Legolas did nothing. He is not to blame for a Man's irrational dislike. I made certain Brynn knew as much."
Arahael's answering smile held real satisfaction.
"Very good," he said. "I was going to ask if it was worthwhile sacrificing an afternoon riding, especially when it looks like we will spend the next three weeks doing footwork drills in the rain. But it seems you are learning. I told my father all you have been doing. He is impressed. He thought, to be honest, that you would not be good for much other than the battlefield… but now he thinks you might learn to be helpful in court."
Saeldur wondered if he ought to take offence to that, but decided it was not worth bringing Tathar's anger down on them immediately. "My mother will be pleased to hear it," he said lightly. He could take it up with Arahael later.
Like Candnaur, Arahael infinitely preferred the court to the training fields. Unlike Candnaur, Arahael had no intention of giving up training once he had learnt enough to defend himself. Saeldur was not certain why. Arahael tended to say it was because it was the duty of the Sindar to defend the realm and fight for the King. But he did not seem to mean it in the way Saeldur would have done. Arahael's concern was more with ensuring that the duty of the Sindar was not taken over by the Silvan.
As though reading Saeldur's thoughts, Arahael said, "Do you still intend to train with Thorontur's archers?"
He accompanied the words with another obvious attack that Saeldur sidestepped.
"Of course, if he will permit it," Saeldur said. Which division they would eventually join, when the time came to take up arms in defence of the realm, was something young warriors spoke about often. Many chose to leave it the judgement of the weapons masters; others had definite ideas of their own. Saeldur had never been in any doubt of what he wanted. The bow was, had always been, his weapon. He doubted that he would face any opposition from Lord Thorontur or Master Bainion. "Do you know yet what you want to do?" he asked Arahael.
"I would not waste my time with the archers, if I were you," Arahael said, ignoring Saeldur's question. "You know you will never command them."
"I suppose not." Saeldur finally attacked, a swift downward movement that Arahael just blocked, leaving his side wide open in the process. Saeldur brought down his off-hand. Arahael twisted to face the new threat, and was completely unprepared for Saeldur to pivot and tap him lightly on the ribs with his knife. "But how many archers have that expectation? There is only one commander."
"The others," Arahael said contemptuously, stepping away and raising his knives again. "What matter is it to them? By rights it should be you, Saeldur." Then, changing the subject abruptly, "Have you heard the Men are to accompany us into the forest?"
"I have." Saeldur shrugged. "I cannot imagine voluntarily subjecting myself to Bregolien's training."
"I think it is an excellent opportunity. I would like to speak to them."
"Saeldur! Arahael!" came Tathar's voice from across the field. "That will be enough idle chatter! Get on with it, or I will see you again tonight for drills!"
With Tathar's attention drawn to them, even Arahael had to concentrate on sparring. Saeldur was not sorry for the excuse to end the conversation.
In the quarters allotted to them, once their Elven escort had seen that they had all they would need for the night and left them alone, the Men of Dale finally felt able to sink into the comfortable seats scattered around the sitting-room with various sighs and expressions of exhaustion. Although the Elves tried to be considerate of their guests' limited mortal endurance, their days had been full. Not a few of them had noted the rain, and the consequent excuse to retire early instead of heeding Brynn's call to join archery training, with ill-concealed relief.
Armad, sensing something of his companions' feelings, said, "My friends, you must all be tired, and I have urgent matters to discuss with my brother. I give you good-night."
For a moment they hesitated, startled at the abrupt dismissal, but then one by one the men of his court bowed, murmured their farewells, and dispersed to their bedchambers. Halla and most of the ladies followed. Aesa alone waited in the sitting-room.
"Aesa, my sister," Armad said gently, "I do not mean to be discourteous, but it might be better if you retired. I have matters to discuss with Brynn that are unfit for a lady's ears."
"With your permission, my lord, I will stay here," Aesa said, equally gently, but far more firmly.
Armad suppressed a sigh. Throughout their childhood, Aesa had been the firmer, the fiercer, the leader of the two of them. Even now, as Lord of Dale, he found it difficult to gainsay her. She was, moreover, on better terms with Brynn than Armad was. It often seemed to him that his sister and his half-brother had a mutual understanding that excluded him.
"We are not going to quarrel, my sister," Armad said, in a vain attempt to placate her.
"Are we not?" Brynn demanded, now not making even a show of deference, since only they three were present. "Then why send away the others?"
"We are not going to quarrel, Brynn, unless you begin it," said Armad. "I only want to urge you – to ask you – to behave with courtesy towards the Elven-king's family –"
"You expect me to quake in my shoes because he is a King?" Brynn said. "Our father was as good as one, although he had but the title of lord. Am I to bow and scrape before their golden-haired Elven-prince, who is little more than a child in the eyes of his own people, simply because his father rules this benighted realm?"
"I do not ask that you bow to him, only that you refrain from insulting him."
"Brynn," Aesa said quietly, "I have spoken to Legolas. You would like him, if you could but stop blaming him for what he cannot help, being born the son of the Elven-king."
Brynn turned to Aesa in silent consideration.
"Do you think so?" he said after several moments.
"He has shown remarkable forbearance in the face of affronts that might have inspired anyone else to draw a blade, prince or not," Aesa said. "Do you truly imagine he enjoyed it? If he can do that out of a sense of duty, then he cannot be quite the spoiled child you believe. You have tested him – and I will not dispute with you about the right of it. It is not worthwhile. But he has passed your test, surely. What more do you expect?"
"You might at least have some consideration for Dale, if you have none for Legolas," Armad burst, when Brynn said nothing for several moments. "Would you ruin our relations with the Elven-king for years to come, perhaps years that you and I will not even live to see,because you do not like me?"
Aesa shot him a look of exasperation as Brynn's brow darkened.
"I will think on it," Brynn said, getting to his feet. "Good night."
He strode out.
"You must be patient when speaking with Brynn," Aesa said, in the same chiding tone Armad's nurse had used when he made himself ill by eating too many cakes. "If you make him angry, it will only be worse. At least now he makes a show of obeying you in the presence of other people."
"I am trying, Aesa. Truly I am. I have been patient – I have given him a position of honour at court – but it was our father's decision not to wed his mother. I cannot be held responsible for that… nor can I change it, even if I would."
"No," Aesa said. "But that is not the only reason for Brynn's resentment."
Armad sighed. "You think I should make him commander of the guard. As our father once promised, though later he said otherwise."
"I do not presume to advise you, my lord. But you know as well as I do that Brynn was happier when he believed that his destiny. The soldiers all respect him. It would suit his temper."
"If Brynn hated me less I might consider it. Am I to put one who would willingly see me dead in command of all my soldiers?"
"I think you do Brynn a disservice, Armad. He is angry, and resentful – as you might have been in similar circumstances – but he does not wish you harm. He would never stoop to murder or treachery. You should know better than that. And if he does hate you… you are lord of Dale. Perhaps you should set him the example of taking the first step towards a relationship that better beseems your position and his."
Thranduil was enjoying the rare opportunity to have a quiet evening with his wife and son, an opportunity that he knew would come less and less frequently as Legolas took on more duties. The Men, fortunately, had declared themselves tired and retired to rest after dinner, so he was not required to entertain them, nor Legolas to engage in archery contests with them.
That brought a darker train of thought.
"And so they ought to be tired," Thranduil muttered, "after that exhibition last night."
Legolas and Lindariel exchanged a glance. Then Legolas looked firmly down at his book, while Lindariel picked up a piece of embroidery and threaded her needle with calm determination. Clearly neither of them intended to encourage him to dwell on this subject.
Legolas might, as many said he did, look like a slighter version and merrier form of Thranduil, but in character he was far more like his mother.
"I am not going to forget the matter," Thranduil said more loudly.
Lindariel laid down her embroidery, taking her time about winding the threads neatly, and turned to face him.
"Meleth, you must make allowances for the fact that Men think differently –"
"I will not make allowances for Armad allowing members of his court to insult my wife and son!"
"In fairness to Lord Armad," Legolas said, "he was trying to stop his brother, my King."
Thranduil scowled. "That makes it worse. What manner of lord has so little control over the members of his own court? No," he went on firmly, "I do not even have it in my heart to excuse Brynn, who has at least suffered from disappointed hopes. Then what possible excuse can there be for Armad?"
"Thranduil." Lindariel reached for his hand. "I know you are angry with him –"
"And with Norgalad," Thranduil said, "for bringing him here. And to subject Legolas to his company, again, after everything that has happened…"
He trailed off as Lindariel glanced at Legolas with a slight tilt of her head, inviting him to say something. He really ought to be angry with Lindariel and Legolas, who refused even to let him have the satisfaction of hoping Armad and his entire company might fall down a ravine to their doom.
But, he acknowledged to himself as Legolas put aside his book, it was impossible to be angry with either of them.
"You need not trouble yourselves," he said, and although he tried to keep his voice stern, Lindariel's furtive smile and the gleam of mischief in Legolas' eyes told him he had failed. "I am King of this realm, after all. I will restrain myself for a few days more… as much as I want to tell Armad how incompetent he is – how eminently unsuited to his role as leader, if his people cannot visit a foreign land without insulting its heir to his face."
"Adar." Legolas got out of his chair and knelt beside his father's. "You know you are exaggerating. Brynn is unpleasant, I agree, but no more than some members of your court – or even Lord Norgalad himself," he added, smiling.
Thranduil scowled. "Norgalad would never say the things Brynn did."
"No, because he is not a Man… Oh, I know it is a grave accusation, even among Men. But it is not as unthinkable as it would be for an Elf… and, truly, Brynn accused me of nothing. He knows perfectly well it would be absurd."
"Meleth," put in Lindariel, squeezing Thranduil's hand, "Legolas is correct. Even if Brynn were ignorant of the ways of Elves, and I doubt he is, nobody could possibly look at Legolas and mistake him for anybody other than your son. He was trying to provoke Legolas, and he failed in that – although apparently he did succeed in provoking Saeldur," she said, half-laughing. "He can be content with that victory. Do not give him the satisfaction of provoking you."
Thranduil sighed and dropped his free hand on Legolas' head. "So we are going to overlook Brynn's rudeness and Armad's ineptitude?"
"There will be another lord soon enough," Lindariel said calmly. "Whatever Brynn's feud with Armad, we can wait it out."
"Very well," Thranduil said. "I will say nothing more about it. And you can stop that," he added, as Lindariel and Legolas exchanged small smiles of triumph. "If only people knew that I have to endure being thus schemed against in my own sitting-room… and that by the only two Elves in all of Arda who might hope to plot against me without paying very dearly for the liberty."
Laughter was the only response he got.
"Elbereth Gilthoniel." Candnaur tried and failed to stifle his laughter at the sight of Saeldur, soaked to the skin and covered in mud from his waist down. "What happened to you?"
"I am pleased to find you so amused," Saeldur said, taking off his shoes and leaving them beside the front door for the water to drain out. "No doubt you have been enjoying being warm and dry."
"It is an excellent day to be warm and dry," Candnaur said, his voice shaking with suppressed mirth. "And of course spiced wine can do something to help matters." Then, taking pity on Saeldur, he said, "Come in and dry off and I will get you some wine."
"Where are Adar and Naneth?" Saeldur asked as he came in.
"Naneth is with Norgalad. They had matters to discuss, since the Men have very little time remaining – and it appears that Brynn will do everything in his power to ensure that what time they have is wasted on trivialities… You should go and change," Candnaur added, as Saeldur stood dripping in the passage. "Nobody will be pleased with you if you trail mud and water all over the sitting room."
Saeldur grimaced at his brother but went to his room to find dry clothes.
Candnaur, putting down his cup, followed him, saying, "It appears I had better not ask how your training went."
"It was all right," Saeldur said briefly. "Arahael still insists he will be a warrior."
He peeled off his wet tunic and rummaged in his chest for another, while Candnaur leaned on the doorframe and watched him.
"Be careful," Candnaur warned. "You will make everything in the chest wet." Saeldur only grunted in response. "You were not partnering Legolas today?" Candnaur went on.
"The first and second classes are not combined for sword training," Saeldur said, his voice muffled by his towel. "Only for archery."
"Have you heard that the Men will be accompanying you into the forest with Bregolien?"
"Yes. For once I agree with Arahael that it only proves that Men are fools. Why they would voluntarily subject themselves to training with Bregolien when they might return home and avoid him altogether…" Saeldur paused, wriggling into his dry clothes. "And if the weather continues like this, as Legolas thinks it will, it will not be pleasant for the Men. They cannot climb trees at the best of times."
Candnaur and Saeldur returned to the sitting-room. Candnaur, going to the sideboard, poured another cup of wine and handed it to his brother.
"You have suddenly developed a great deal of respect for Legolas' opinion," Candnaur observed, settling into his chair.
Saeldur rolled his eyes. "I suppose we must discuss this."
"Yes. I think we must." Candnaur looked at Saeldur over the rim of his cup, suddenly very serious. "Saeldur, I know I have been joking about it, but… what were you doing this afternoon? I do not for a moment believe that you have suddenly grown fond of court."
"Do not expect to see me there often." When Candnaur simply looked at him, Saeldur said, "I thought somebody should be there to help Legolas."
"Is that the truth?"
"Why do you think I came, then?" Saeldur demanded.
"Saeldur… do you truly not mind that…" Candnaur hesitated. "That Legolas is spoken of as the… better… archer?"
Saeldur laughed. "Not you, too! Do you truly think so little of me? That I would want to come and make trouble for Legolas because I am jealous that he has a steadier hand? That is absurd, and you know it."
"Then do you not trust Naneth? Or me? We were both there this afternoon."
"You were there last night as well, when Brynn was so urgent to impugn Legolas' birth… oh, I am not trying to quarrel with you, Candnaur," Saeldur said, when Candnaur seemed about to protest. "Of course I trust you. But I also know you have a duty to the realm and the King's council, which might supersede any desire to help Legolas out of a difficult situation."
"And you do not think Legolas can manage a difficult situation himself."
"I know he can. But he feels as though he must not. It is not only in court. That is what has changed in the last few years, though I did not realize it before. Legolas feels that, as the King's son, he must not quarrel with anyone. But since he is the King's son, he is also more a target than anyone else would be. He should have someone to speak for him without worrying about offending the Lord of Dale."
Candnaur nodded. "Well… if you are disposed to try to make friends with Legolas, I am glad of it. It will be good for both of you. You need a sense of responsibility, and Legolas…" Candnaur smiled. "Legolas, as you say, needs someone to speak for him without worrying about who might be offended… and perhaps someone he can speak to without worrying about offending."
"I do not think Legolas trusts me that much yet."
"He will," Candnaur said. "The King's court is not kind – especially not to the King's family. I think Legolas has seen enough of it to value loyalty. And you are loyal, Saeldur, once your friendship is given. None more so."
Saeldur flushed at what seemed undeserved praise. "Legolas might have cause to say otherwise."
"You were children," Candnaur said. "It was natural for you to grow apart when you began your training so much before Legolas… ten years can seem an eternity to those so young, I know," he added, smiling. "But you are adults now. I doubt that will happen again… And Legolas does not bear grudges."
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