Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: It's been… a difficult few weeks. And it looks like being a difficult few more. At least we always have stories, I guess?

Enjoy!

Part XI

The next day, the rain had not stopped. Even the Elves were beginning to grow tired of walking through puddles in wet clothes.

Even Legolas was beginning to grow irritable. Saeldur supposed that explained why he had been avoiding all company save Eredhion's and Voronwë's.

The morning's tracking exercises had been easier than usual. The ground, where it was not inches deep in water, was muddy enough to hold the marks of even an Elf's light footsteps. The wind was howling so fiercely through the branches that only Legolas had managed to keep his footing in the trees. If the Men had participated, instead of shivering in what shelter they could find, they might have met with unaccustomed success.

Rochendilwen had ordered everyone to gather in a clearing for lunch, perhaps in the hope that they would all be more cheerful in company.

If so, her effort was in vain. The Men were huddled in an unhappy group in the shelter of some rocks. The Elves sat around the clearing in groups of two and three. There was no hope of making a fire, so their meal was limited to bread and fruit.

Saeldur, under a tree with Arahael and Brethil, could only remain in good temper by reminding himself that in two days he would be at home, in dry clothes and drinking hot spiced wine in his parents' sitting-room.

He glanced across the clearing. Legolas was almost directly opposite, with Eredhion and Voronwë – and Bregolien. Bregolien was speaking, too softly for Saeldur to hear above the rain. It did not seem like he was haranguing Legolas. It would be too much to say Bregolien looked friendly, but for once he was not glowering.

All the same, Legolas seemed uncomfortable.

When they had finished eating and the Men had been given time to rest, Saeldur found out why.

Bregolien walked to the centre of the clearing. Silence fell as everyone looked at him. Brynn, sitting on a log slightly to Saeldur's left, muttered something about hoping they were going back.

Saeldur knew they would have no such luck.

Bregolien appeared to have heard Brynn as well, because he smiled at him.

"It was not my plan to send anyone home, Master Brynn," he said, with thinly-veiled contempt. "My students will certainly be staying. If they are ever called upon to fight in defense of the King's subjects, there will be no guarantee of fair weather. But if you wish to return to the stronghold, I would be delighted to arrange an escort."

Saeldur held his breath. Bregolien could not send any of the students as escort – the King would be furious if Mannish soldiers, even friendly Mannish soldiers, wandered through his realm with so little supervision. Bregolien and Rochendilwen would have to provide the escort, which meant they would all have to return.

If Brynn took Bregolien up on his offer…

"Certainly not, Lord Bregolien," Brynn said coolly. Saeldur should have known it was too much to hope. "My Men are seasoned warriors."

"So be it." Bregolien glanced around. "I had planned more structured exercises for this afternoon, but, unfortunately, I have had to… modify my plans."

As though to emphasize Bregolien's words, there was a flash of lightning, followed by the rumble of thunder.

"However," Bregolien went on, unmindful of the fact that he was standing ankle-deep in water, "a true warrior will always find a way to turn any situation to his advantage. I would have liked to see how well you can all work together, but since that is not to be… I can use this occasion to try the mettle of our beloved Elven-prince."

Legolas had a white-knuckled grip on his bow.

Bregolien held up a small dagger. There was nothing unusual about it; it was such a weapon as anyone might conceal in a boot. He turned, so that everyone could see what he held.

"Legolas," Bregolien ordered, "give Rochendilwen your weapons. She will keep them safe for you."

As though he had been expecting the command, Legolas silently passed his bow to Rochendilwen, who had come to sit on the other side of Voronwë. Then he unstrapped his quiver and handed it to her, along with his knives in their sheaths.

Bregolien went to him, twirling the dagger idly in his hands. He stopped before Legolas.

"Very good," he said. "It appears you are capable of following orders after all." He lunged. Saeldur flinched; but Bregolien only tapped Legolas' arm lightly with the blade, as though on the sparring field, and then spun the dagger again to hand it to him hilt-first. Legolas took it without a word and tucked it into his belt.

"The weather is not suitable for Esgalorne," Bregolien said, turning his back on Legolas. "Even if we did not have guests, we would risk broken bones and, perhaps, worse injuries. I have had to modify the exercise somewhat. However… clearly, Legolas is able to stay in the trees without falling, even in this weather. I am forming no teams. You may work as you please – alone, if you will, or together, if you can find others to work with you. Your task is to get the dagger from the Elven-prince by any means possible."

Saeldur stared. That was… that was…

"Standard rules of Esgalorne will apply," Bregolien went on. "No sharpened blades. I doubt it will come to close-quarters combat. Arrows must land at least eighteen inches from any Elf… or Man. That is all… oh. Wait. There is one exception to our rules. Legolas is not, under any circumstances, required to give you the dagger. You must take it from him." His smile widened. "Legolas has no weapons… but, on the other hand, he will have the forest's help in a way that nobody else will. I think it should be an even contest."

"How is it even," Saeldur said, finding his voice at last, "when Legolas must be wary of so many potential threats?"

"Should we expect less of our prince?" Bregolien demanded. Then, before Saeldur could protest further, he said, "Legolas, I will give you fifteen minutes."

Inclining his head briefly to Bregolien, Legolas leapt up into the tree overhead and was lost to sight.

"Listen to me," Saeldur whispered earnestly, "I do not want the accursed dagger – I do not care about this stupid exercise. I want to speak to him. Tell me where he is."

There was silence. Saeldur did not know if the tree had not understood him or it was simply being stubborn. He forced himself to take several deep, calming breaths. There was no point losing his temper with the tree.

"I want to help," he said.

At last, he heard a grudging response.

Climb, Elf. He will come to you here.

Saeldur looked at the tree doubtfully. It was swaying in the wind.

Hurry, the tree snapped,

Carefully, Saeldur climbed. He only managed to get around halfway to the top, but that was high enough for the branches to close together beneath, to hide him from view. The swaying was stronger at this level. Saeldur braced himself against the trunk, hoping Legolas would come soon. He did not know how long he could stay in the tree.

Almost as soon as he had the thought, Legolas landed on the branch beside him with a barely-audible thump. He stood on it unsupported, seeming perfectly balanced despite the driving rain, the howling wind, and the movement of the tree.

"I should hate you," Saeldur muttered.

Legolas laughed. "Come higher. We are too close to the ground. We will be seen."

"I cannot go any higher."

"Yes, you can," Legolas said cheerfully. "I will help you."

And Saeldur found that, between Legolas' help and the tree's, he could climb higher.

"This is far enough," Legolas said, when they were nearly at the top. "The branches above this will not support us. Are you all right?"

At Saeldur's nod, Legolas released him. Saeldur sat carefully, making certain he was supported by the trunk. Legolas, stepping further out along the branch, sat as well, allowing his legs to dangle.

"Are you certain that is safe?" Saeldur said doubtfully.

"Our friend will not let us fall." Legolas patted the branch with warm affection. "Is everything all right?"

"Legolas, about yesterday," Saeldur began. "Thank you for helping me out of the water. If you had not been there…"

"You do not have to thank me," Legolas said quietly. "I am glad you took no injury." Then, after a moment he went on. "And… I should apologize. For what I said yesterday about… Court gossip is not your fault. I know you would never suggest that –"

"Legolas, wait," Saeldur interrupted, when he overcame his surprise enough to speak. Legolas stopped and looked at him. "We both said things we did not mean yesterday. We can try to recollect the entire conversation and who said what to whom, but it might be easier simply to start over."

Slowly, Legolas nodded.

"And… today. This exercise. Legolas, you do not have to do this. Everyone is restless and irritable. It is going to make you the focus of the frustration. Bregolien should not have asked it of you. It was unfair. He must hoping someone will start a fight."

"What Bregolien is hoping," Legolas said calmly, "is that I will give him a reason to complain to my father." He patted Saeldur's knee, half smiling, half rueful. "I know you mean well. I know you are trying to help. But some things simply are, Saeldur. If it were not Bregolien, it would be somebody else. My father has enough cares. I will not add to his burden by making trouble."

"I understand. At least let me try to ease your burden," Saeldur said. "You can speak freely to me. About anything. Legolas, you know – you must know – that I would not repeat anything you told me. To anyone."

"Saeldur, you do not want that."

"Yes, I do," Saeldur said firmly. "And not out of a sense of duty, so do not start that again. I know your trust is worth the earning… because of who you are, not because of who your father is. I had your trust once, after all. And your friendship." Legolas patted his knee again. Taking that as a good sign, Saeldur went on, "What purpose is served by this exercise? Nobody will find you as long as you do not wish to be found."

Legolas shrugged, face growing serious. "Bregolien ordered me to give them a sporting chance once enough time has passed – I know," he said, forestalling Saeldur's protest. "But it cannot be helped. And now you had better go. If Bregolien finds you here, he will have more to tell my father about."

The sound of twanging bows drew Saeldur from his thoughts.

The reverberations were heavy. Uneven.

Mannish.

Legolas must be giving their guests the sporting chance Bregolien had demanded for them.

Saeldur enjoyed Esgalorne as much as anyone, but he wanted no part of this. What purpose Bregolien hoped to achieve he could not imagine. Unless he intended that it should come to a physical fight – Saeldur would put nothing past Bregolien –

The next sound Saeldur heard was a voice exclaiming something in the Mannish tongue. It did not sound pleasant.

Saeldur's grip on his own bow tightened. Stress could make anyone's hand shake – as he knew all too well – and the Men had little control over their weapons in any case. With the wind still blowing strongly through the trees…

It did not bear thinking about, so Saeldur did not think.

He leapt down and made his way in the direction of the sound, moving as quickly as he could manage through the ankle-deep water.

He saw Legolas in a tree at the edge of the clearing where Bregolien had given them their instructions. There were arrows in the grass – testament to some Man's abysmal aim, probably Brynn – and one shaft still quivering in the tree, exactly where Legolas would have been standing if he had been on the branch above and then had to jump to evade it –

Saeldur's fists clenched – unreasonably, perhaps, because it was not unusual when practicing Esgalorne to shoot directly at an opponent, after first warning them to leap out of the path of the arrow… on the other hand, nobody with any sense would try that in this weather, unless they wanted to cause injury. Anybody but Legolas would have fallen while making the jump.

Legolas had not yet seen Saeldur. His wary blue eyes were on the other side of the clearing. Following his gaze, Saeldur saw Brethil and Brynn – and Bregolien.

Brynn had evidently recognized that this was beyond him, because he had lowered his bow. But Brethil –

Saeldur's heart leapt into his throat. Even as he watched, Brethil loosed, two arrows in rapid succession, one wildly inaccurate, one so close that Legolas had to duck to avoid it.

Brethil had his bow at full draw once more.

Brethil had his bow at full draw and Bregolien was speaking to him.

Saeldur did not know what he was saying, but he did know that Bregolien was more than capable of goading anyone into something unwise –

Brethil, at the best of times, lacked precision with the bow –

Legolas had recognized the danger, but he was not moving. He must know as well as Saeldur did that Brethil was an indifferent archer. Sudden movement might startle him into a mistake.

Saeldur ran.

He leapt into the tree.

Something struck his shoulder – it felt like a line of fire pressing into his arm –

He swayed dizzily, about to fall –

And there was a steadying arm around him.

"Idiot," hissed Legolas' voice in his ear. "What were you thinking?"

"It would have killed you," Saeldur said – or at least tried to say. The words that came out of his mouth were garbled.

"Wait."

Saeldur had no idea how Legolas managed it, but a few moments later they were both on the ground. Saeldur tried to take a step, nearly slipped, and shut his eyes with a groan.

"Up on the rocks," said a voice on Saeldur's other side. It sounded like it might be Rochendilwen. "It will be a little drier."

There was more movement, with Legolas taking most of his weight. For several seconds Saeldur was too giddy to know what was happening. When his head cleared and he opened his eyes again, he was sprawled on a hard surface with someone's shoulder under his head.

Saeldur looked up.

"Leg… Leg'las."

Legolas smiled at him. "Wait. It is not bad. Rochendilwen has gone for her supplies. She will take out the arrow and stitch the wound when she returns." Then, smile fading, "And do not be so foolish another time."

"Foolish," said a new, very familiar voice, "is right. What were you thinking, Saeldur?"

Saeldur looked for the source of the sound. Arahael was a few feet away, glaring at Saeldur, while Brethil stood beside him. Brethil, unlike Arahael, did not appear angry. He seemed as though a few centuries had been frightened off his life.

"You should have stayed out of the way," Arahael said flatly.

"Not… likely." Saeldur tried to sit up, but pain shot through his arm. He sank back against Legolas. "This… this is a… stupid… exercise. Half… half-prepared archers…" Brethil flinched, but Saeldur barely noticed. "The rain…"

"Saeldur," Legolas said, a warning note in his voice.

"You," Saeldur said. "You could… have… died."

"Before you accept all our grateful thanks for saving our beloved prince," said a cold voice, "you might want to consider that you might have done so without causing all this alarm. If you had timed it right – as you ought to be able to do after years of training – you could have had Legolas, and yourself, well down before Brethil's arrow struck."

There was an awkward silence, broken by Legolas saying, "At any rate, you have my thanks, Saeldur."

Saeldur was about to protest that he needed no thanks, certainly not from Legolas, when Bregolien took his arm roughly. Saeldur gasped, pulling away instinctively.

Bregolien's brows dropped. "Would you prefer to leave the arrowhead in the wound?" he snarled.

"Bregolien," said a gentler voice – Rochendilwen's, "they have not seen battle before. They are not accustomed to injuries. Perhaps you should take it slowly. Let me give him something for the pain. It will be easier."

"They might not be accustomed to injuries yet, but they should be accustomed to facing pain with courage, or our task is undone," Bregolien spat. "Is that not why we are training them, sister? When battle comes upon us again – as it will, undoubtedly it will – would you have us guarded by children unfit to leave the nursery?"

As Legolas' arm tightened comfortingly around his shoulders, Saeldur felt his cheeks heating.

"The greatest warriors were children once," said Rochendilwen.

"Children like this?" Bregolien turned on Saeldur. "Little Sindarin lordlings cowering from the merest prick because they have been brought up to believe themselves above pain."

Saeldur wished he could sink into the ground. No wonder Legolas went to so much trouble to avoid angering Bregolien.

Rochendilwen sighed, obviously recognizing the futility of the argument. She opened her pack, which she had with her. "I will give him something for the pain."

"No," Bregolien snapped. He seized Saeldur's arm again. Saeldur just managed not to flinch. "You are fortunate, Saeldur," Bregolien went on, examining the wound. "The arrow has not broken bone. It will heal entirely. I said no, Rochendilwen."

Rochendilwen, pouring something from a pouch into a cup, looked startled.

"He cannot participate in the rest of the exercise in any case."

"He caused his own injury by being foolish. He can learn to endure the pain." Bregolien stopped to glare at Arahael and Brethil. "What are you still doing here? The rain is easing at last. It will stop soon. Get back to the others and tell them to begin on footwork drills."

Arahael looked very pointedly at the water still on the ground, but he and Brethil went.

"You can go as well," Bregolien told Legolas. "Rochendilwen and I can handle this."

Saeldur stiffened – the last thing he wanted was to be left with Bregolien.

Legolas said, "With your permission, Bregolien, I will stay."

As polite as his tone was, there was an undercurrent of firmness that reminded Saeldur irresistibly of the King. Apparently it did the others as well: Rochendilwen looked both startled and amused; Bregolien scowled, but made no objection.

"Hold still," Bregolien ordered Saeldur.

Then he jerked sharply at something and Saeldur barely held in a cry of pain. The world spun around him. His eyes stung. He turned his face quickly to hide his tears in Legolas' tunic.

"Here." Rochendilwen's voice was nearby. "It would have been better if I could have made a fire… but all the same, this will help."

"No," Bregolien snapped. "Nothing for the pain. Would he have time to stop for medicine in the middle of a battle?"

Saeldur stared at Bregolien, not listening to Rochendilwen's response. He was known to be a harsh teacher, but this was extreme, even for him.

Bregolien was not looking at Saeldur at all. His glittering eyes were on Legolas…

And Saeldur understood. He was trying to provoke Legolas into a reaction that he could use as the basis for a complaint to the King. The King was well known to have little sympathy for indiscipline, even – perhaps especially – from his son.

Saeldur sighed and dropped his head. Bregolien was a fool. Legolas would never rise to this.

Then, to his astonishment, Legolas said – not angrily, or defiantly, but as firmly as he had said he would stay, "You must let him have something."

"I beg your pardon."

"You must let him have something for the pain," Legolas said.

"You come dangerously close to insubordination, Legolas."

"Insubordination? Is that what it is?" Legolas said, still calmly.

"Legolas," Saeldur got out. "Legolas, no… it is… not… worthwhile to…" He stopped, realizing that neither Bregolien nor Legolas was listening to his protests. He tried to sit up, which at least got Legolas' attention. "I am… I am… quite well."

Unfortunately he spoilt his assertion by swaying dizzily and putting a hand to his head, which caused a jolt of pain through his arm.

"Stay still," Rochendilwen said, pressing him back down.

She seemed remarkably unperturbed by the standoff between Bregolien and Legolas. She made no move to interfere.

"Saeldur will learn to cope," Bregolien said. "That is the last word on the matter."

"That is unnecessarily cruel. You will not punish him because you do not like me." Legolas sounded so much like the King as he spoke that Saeldur would have had difficulty not obeying any order he gave.

And in the drizzle, in the sudden stillness of the trees, it was suddenly blindingly, forcibly obvious that although Legolas was a student, he was also an adult. As an adult, wet and muddy as all the rest of them, hair plastered to his head, tunic dripping water, he was the King's heir… their Prince, although the only one who ever addressed him as such was Bregolien, and he did it in mockery.

Bregolien seemed to realize the same thing, because he nodded to Rochendilwen, who quickly put a cup in Saeldur's hands.

"The King will hear of this," Bregolien said, with the hint of a smile. "I am going to supervise the others, Rochendilwen. Finish up and join me. Since our Prince is so concerned about Saeldur's wellbeing, he can stay here and look after him."

A little while later, the wound stitched, the medicine beginning to dull the pain, comfortably propped against a tree, Saeldur said, "You need not have done it."

Legolas shrugged. "He did not truly think you should be denied medicine. He was trying to provoke me."

"And you let him."

"Sometimes the issue is important enough to pursue the argument."

"Will the King be very angry with you?"

"I expect so," Legolas said ruefully. "I do not doubt Bregolien will tell him the story in a manner that makes it seem far worse. But do not worry about it, Saeldur. I would do it again. Bregolien had no right to involve you – and in such a manner." He paused, and then reached out to squeeze Saeldur's uninjured arm. "And… thank you. For saving me."

"If we are going to be friends," Saeldur said, "you must promise never to thank me for helping you."

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