Chapter 28: Hearts and Minds

"Shall we draw straws?" Roewen asked.

"There is no need," Caladhel replied. "I will volunteer." She closed the ledger and took it in hand.

"Are you sure?"

"I happen to find your grandfather quite entertaining."

"That wears off after an age," said Roewen.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Well then, run along. There is nothing I like better than proving someone wrong."

Caladhel accepted Roewen's challenge with a tip of her head, and after, made her way to the rallying tent. Iauron was speaking with several ellyn, relaying instructions. Each ellon greeted her warmly before hurrying off to complete his given task. Caladhel waited patiently with ledger in hand until her turn came for Iauron's attention.

He waved Caladhel in as the last ellon departed and greeted her with a grin. "Sent you, did she?"

Caladhel's eyes sparked with like amusement. "I believe your granddaughter hopes my spending more time with you will cure me of my awe."

"She is a clever one, my Roewen," said Iauron. He gestured to the table for her to set down the ledger. "Shall we see to the tallies?"

Caladhel walked Iauron through each page, matching Roewen's numbers to the reports submitted to Iauron by each team. His offhand comments about each work team and their leader soon made Caladhel curious.

"How is Thranduil doing?" she asked.

"He is a bit slower this year," Iauron replied. "I shall have to remind him he is here to work."

"Why should he be slower? Does his shoulder still pain him?"

"His shoulder? Valar, no. Too much laughter. He works harder when he is in an ill mood. I have gotten a hundred good years out of him." He turned a disapproving glare upon Caladhel. "Alas, he has found cause for joy again. I might have to replace him."

"You wouldn't."

Iauron's serious expression softened into a smirk. "No," he agreed. "I wouldn't. But I might have to recommend you be stationed at different farms next year."

"I do not think Thranduil would allow it, and besides, do my hands not make up for his idleness?"

Iauron tapped his quill upon the parchment. "I will tally the numbers," he said, "and get back to you."

Caladhel believed he would. Iauron was fond of humor, but he was also serious when it came to his work. She hoped his forthright dealing would extend to her as well, and a question that gnawed at her since her previous conversation with Thranduil.

"There is something I have been curious about," Caladhel said. "I had hoped you could explain it to me."

"And what is it that has piqued the lady's curiosity?"

Caladhel was unsure he would answer her question. He had dodged a direct one regarding Thranduil when they first met, but still, the opening was there. "I would like to know why your people are not angry with me."

"Why should we be angry?" he asked.

"For the deer… for injuring your king."

"Ah, the deer. Now that was an interesting day."

"And no one is angry," said Caladhel, the expression on her face mirrored her puzzlement. "Not only that, but I understand your people joke about it openly. Thranduil told me last night he was not bothered by their jests. I think he meant it."

"Why should their amusement bother him?" Iauron asked.

"In other parts of the world, a king might consider it a humiliation."

"Well, there is your problem. We are not in other parts of the world."

"Indeed. I am missing something. I had hoped you could clarify the matter."

Caladhel did her best to await Iauron's response but she was certain her impatience showed on her face. Iauron gazed upon her a moment with that same thoughtful expression she noted the day before, when he set her question aside. She thought he would do so again, and prepared herself for disappointment. A second later his manner changed. He abandoned the ledger and stood to full height. He crossed his arms and fixed his full attention upon Caladhel, as though preparing himself to lecture.

"The answer is simple, really," said Iauron, "though to an outsider, a bit complicated to explain. You see, we wood elves had no lords or kings before the Sindar came among us. We formed councils of those accounted wise when the need arose, to make great decisions or settle a dispute. Otherwise, no elf held himself an authority over another, but for the parent over the child in his youth. From the days we first settled this forest, each ellon was a lord of his house and each elleth, a lady. Two souls, of different quality, perhaps, but equal in right and dignity."

Iauron paused a moment so Caladhel might process his words. She had no trouble following him, but was somewhat unclear on how this particular history lesson related to her and the incident with the deer. "I see," she said, somewhat hesitantly.

"No, you don't," Iauron replied. "Not yet. But if you will allow me to continue?"

Caladhel blushed sheepishly and nodded. "Of course," she said.

Iauron paused again to order his thoughts before he continued. "The Sindar call Thranduil 'king'," he said, "and so, too, we call him, but what we Silvan elves mean when we speak this word is not the same thing. We see the king as our father. One who sees his house is safe and his children are fed. A father who protects us and loves us without question, and so, too, we love him. Thranduil is our king, our father, and so, if we would have a mother, she must be his equal."

Caladhel was startled by Iauron's conclusion, how simple it was, and how complicated. She was not entirely certain she grasped his intended meaning, but before she could ask more of him, Iauron posed a question of his own.

"Are there many eligible ladies you know who could hold their own against our king and not be dominated by his spirit?"

Caladhel thought earnestly on the question. Her mind moved first to Celebrían, and her previous musings on how terrible a match they would have made. She thought of other ladies, too, mostly of Lórien and Imladris, for she knew only a few well from Greenwood's court. She considered each of them honestly, before shaking her head. "I can think of no one," she said.

"I can," Iauron replied.

There was no way for Caladhel to mistake his intended meaning then, for he looked her squarely in the eye.

"If Thranduil would marry, we would have a queen to claim as our own, if not in blood, then in spirit. We see this in you."

Caladhel was struck silent for a moment by with the weight of his words. "And that is why no one is angry?" she asked.

Iauron nodded.

Once again, Caladhel was astounded by the simplicity with which the Silvan elves viewed their world. Instead of seeing some complex political intrigue, they viewed the incident with the deer as a mere disagreement between an ellon and elleth, one they surely would have bet on their king to win. That she had managed to sway Taurhîn to her side and outmaneuvered Thranduil in the process had come as a surprise, and a welcome one, it seemed, if she read Iauron and his kinsmen rightly.

There was only one thing that discomfited Caladhel – this expectation by the Silvan elves that she might be their queen. It was an absurd thing to be made uncomfortable by, given the reason she returned to Greenwood in the first place, but it pressed too close to futures Caladhel could not bring herself to ponder yet.

"I confess… I have tried to avoid thinking that far ahead."

"And why is that?"

"I fear my mind is not all too clear on the matter."

"And what of your heart?" he asked.

Caladhel shook her head. "I do not trust my heart," she said. "More than once it has led me astray."

"Oh?" Iauron's brow arched. "And has your mind a perfect record?"

Caladhel took the ancient elf's criticism as it was meant. "No," she answered, "but I have found it less painful when it fails me."

Iauron shook his head in dismay, but the advice he offered her was more kind than scolding. "I am sorry to be the one to tell you, child, but your head can only take you to the gates of love. You must trust your heart to lead you through the doors and down its secret paths."

Iauron smiled at her then, and Caladhel, in turn, felt the corner of her mouth curl upward. "Thranduil said you were wise."

"I have picked up a few bits of wisdom over the years."

The smile struggling to form on Caladhel's face burst fully forth at Iauron's jest. She was certain he had more than a few bits of wisdom to offer.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Iauron's expression grew somber. His gaze abandoned Caladhel and passed over the fields, seeking out a tall figure made small in the distance, but still recognizable by the silver hue of his hair. "Thranduil is a complicated soul," he said. "He has experienced more horrors than most, and yet, somehow, he has managed not to be consumed by them."

Caladhel wondered how much of Thranduil's suffering Iauron knew. One thing was clear by the look in his eyes: whatever he knew, it was enough. "I, too, have thought him remarkable on that account," she said.

Iauron's gaze returned to Caladhel. He studied her face for a time, as if he sought some understanding there. He must have found it, for the seriousness of his tone was unlike any discourse Caladhel had had with him since they met.

"I worry for him," Iauron admitted. "Thranduil is a good king, but he sacrifices much to wear his father's crown. As a prince, he had more freedom to wander the woods, to hunt with his warriors and revel with their kin each year when the festivals came around. The crown has changed that. He is not so free anymore. And while his heart belongs to the forest, he must spend ever more time in Limrond's halls. It is as much a prison to him as a palace. I fear the burden of ruling Greenwood will drain him of what little pleasure he had in this world, and he will slowly fade from weariness. He needs someone to bring joy to his halls, and to help him bear the weight of this kingdom."

"And you think that someone is me?"

Iauron heard the unease her voice, and sought to soothe it a little. His intensity melted away, replaced by an equal measure of humor. "Since we are being truthful with one another, I will admit, I had hoped it would be one of my daughters. Alas, time and fate have thwarted me."

Iauron's smile eased Caladhel's nerves some and the mention of his daughters reminded her of one in particular. "Do you speak of Roewen?" she asked.

Iauron shook his head. "No, not Roewen. She is too much like him. He needs a balancing force. Unfortunately, none of my children were destined to be a match for him. I believe that role has been claimed by a certain Lady of Lórien."

Iauron's kindness touched Caladhel's heart, lighting her face.

Iauron bowed his head to her before returning to the task at hand. "I think that is enough honesty for one day," he said. "Back to the onions…"


After walking Iauron through the ledger, Caladhel was set to double-checking his numbers. She repeated the sums carefully, not wishing to be the one found incorrect. So focused were her thoughts, that she did not lift her eyes from the parchment at the first sound of the horn. Only when a second blast followed did her attention shift.

She turned to Iauron who stood stone-faced, listening. "What is it?" she asked, when the music paused, but he held up his hand to silence her.

The music started again. It echoed through the forest, passing word along to those who understood the meaning behind the notes. It rang out for half a minute before ending abruptly. Iauron lowered his hand and at that same moment the entire farm, which had fallen still and silent, sprang into motion.

"Orcs," he answered at last.

Orcs? Caladhel's gaze flew to the king who worked far afield. He and the other warriors had dropped their tools and were now sprinting across the expanse towards the rallying tent.

"Are they coming here?" She suspected the horn's music contained that information and more.

"No," said Iauron. "Not here."

Caladhel was unnerved by Iauron's calm and he must have read her anxiety in her eyes for he came to her side and took her arm.

"There is a company approaching the farm to the south of us," he said.

"How many?"

"Perhaps five hundred."

"Five hundred!" Caladhel was aware of a few skirmishes between orcs and elves over the last century, but none with numbers so great. "Where do they come from?"

"From the south," he said and the bitterness in his tone was not lost on Caladhel.

Caladhel had taken a southern path when she made her escape from Limrond, despite Thranduil's warning that the forest was dangerous. It might have been the death of her, if not for the king and his wardens. She had not given much thought to the southern stretches of Greenwood since, and wondered now what terrors might have awaited her there.

"How long before the orcs reach the farm?"

"About an hour," said Iauron.

"And how long will it take the warriors here to reach them?"

"More than an hour."

Caladhel shut her eyes and sent up a silent prayer that the warriors stationed at the other farm could hold off the attack before reinforcement arrived. Her heart was pounding furiously, but as her eyes flitted across the field she was struck by the lack of panic among the Silvan elves. The warriors collected their weapons from their respective camps and assembled in an orderly fashion. Watching them, it occurred to Caladhel that they had laid plans in the event of such an attack. Every ellon and elleth did what was expected and waited patiently for their next command.

Thranduil returned swiftly with his weapons. He spoke first with a circle of captains, their number including Roewen, while the remainder of the warriors waited in silence. Each captain wore an intense expression. They listened patiently and each spoke in turn, if only briefly. Caladhel could not hear what was said, for they were too far away, but one thing was clear to Caladhel, despite the urgency of their cause, Thranduil's captains would not rush through their preparations. The captains disbanded a moment later, and after, Thranduil turned his gaze on her. The light of his eyes was like the sun's rays. They warmed her heart and calmed her trembling soul.

Thranduil strode purposefully to the tent, but addressed Iauron first. "You will take command here. We are leaving fifty wardens behind. Be sure the others are prepared to protect the farm if any orcs make their way past our line."

"It will be done," Iauron replied.

Thranduil shifted his gaze to Caladhel, who clung still to Iauron's arm. "You will return to Limrond immediately."

Caladhel was shocked and offended by Thranduil's command. She was, after all, not entirely helpless. "I can aid you," she said.

"No," Thranduil replied. He turned, and called out across the field. "Roewen!" He waved for her to join him. The elleth raced to the tent and stood before her king a moment later. "You will escort Caladhel back to Limrond without delay."

If possible, Roewen was even more surprised by this command than Caladhel had been. Her eyes shifted between Caladhel and her king.

Caladhel had taken this time to recover her wits. She was no fonder of the idea of being sent away than Roewen was of escorting her. Beyond that, it made no sense in her mind. If the southern border of their kingdom was breached, there was no guarantee the road back to Limrond was any safer. "And if we are attacked returning to the palace," said Caladhel, "while you ride off to aid the farm?"

A spark of anger lit Thranduil's eyes, but he could not find the words to counter her.

Caladhel released Iauron's arm and stepped forward. "How many archers do you have?"

"We have enough," he replied.

"Are you sure?" When Thranduil did not answer her right away, she stepped closer and took hold of his arm. She knew he wished to protect her, but there were others now who needed the protection she could offer. "I do not pretend to be a warrior, but I can shoot a bow, and my aim is sure, even at a thousand paces. I do not need to be near danger to help you."

Thranduil had never before been forced to choose between what was best for him, and what was best for his people. Had any other elf in possession of Caladhel's skill offered her service, Thranduil would not have hesitated. His rational mind told him to accept her offer, his heart screamed to keep her safe. His heart was stronger, and it might have won, too, had Roewen not spoken the very thought he was unable to express.

"We can never have too many archers."

Thranduil turned his gaze upon the warden, his friend. In her eyes he saw both understanding and disappointment. The second was as sharp as any blade. Thranduil looked down upon Caladhel. Her grey eyes were steely. She would not back down from this. He hated her a little for that, but he loved her even more.

He took hold of both her arms at the shoulders. "You will stay in the trees. No matter what happens, you will not descend."

Caladhel nodded.

He turned to Roewen. "If our defenses fail, you will retreat immediately, and return with her to Limrond."

"Yes, my king."

Thranduil released his hold on Caladhel and moved to stand before Roewen. He towered over her small form, an intimidating sight, but the words he spoke next were less of a threat than a plea. "Do not leave her side."

Roewen set her hand upon her heart. "I will protect her with my life."

"I hope it will not come to that."

"So do I."

Without another word Thranduil marched off to where his warriors had gathered. He did not look at Caladhel again. If he had, he would have changed his mind. Roewen turned to her grandfather, who had chosen not to intervene in the king's argument. He stood only as a silent observer.

"I think that was the hardest thing he has ever done," Roewen whispered.

"I believe you are right." Iauron set a hand upon his daughter's shoulder to draw her eyes. "Keep her safe," he said.

Roewen had already agreed to do so for Thranduil, but Iauron's request, if possible, gave the matter greater import. She nodded her head.

"Come," she said to Caladhel, "we must gather with the archers."

Caladhel followed Roewen out of the tent. They swung by their camp to collect their weapons before gathering with the archers. Caladhel recognized the ellon in command of the company. Faentôr was an excellent dancer and she and Roewen had spent much of the previous night in his company. Many of the archers eyed the Lórien lady with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"I thought our king would have sent you back to Limrond by now," Faentôr said as the ellith approached.

"He tried," said Caladhel.

"She talked him out of it," Roewen added.

"I am glad," said Faentôr, for he had witnessed Caladhel's skill with a bow that night in the forest. He was happy to accept her aid. "I trust your aim is worse in a gown."

Caladhel nodded. "Measurably so."

"Good." He gestured for her and Roewen to join them. "Gather round."

The others made room for them in the circle. The ellon standing to Caladhel's right leaned closer to her ear, as if to whisper, but he spoke loudly enough for all to hear. "I heard you beat our king at an archery contest."

"As if that were so hard," Roewen scoffed. "His technique is terrible."

"It is better than yours," Faentôr countered. "And to that point, what are you doing here?"

"I am with the Lady," said Roewen, tipping her head in Caladhel's direction. "If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with our king."

The ellon shook his head in disapproval. "Just try to hit something, will you."

Roewen bowed graciously and afterward Faentôr called the company to attention. He quickly relayed orders to the archers and by the time he was done a horn sounded in the wood. Moments later a few hundred deer emerged from the forest. Then they were off, racing through the trees with Taurhîn's aid toward the southernmost farm.


Faentôr stationed Caladhel and Roewen in the forest a mile from the farm to cover the path of retreat. The ellith perched in neighboring trees. They could already hear the clash of swords and howls of war in the distance. They had their bows at the ready, scanning the forest for any sign of movement, but the trees were still, like the brush beneath them.

"Well, now, this is exciting," said Roewen.

"What did you expect? Did you think Faentôr would station me on the front line?"

"Of course not," Roewen replied. "I simply enjoy complaining."

Caladhel did pity Roewen for being tasked with watching over her. She knew the elleth had to be incredibly skilled at the arts of war to be tasked with training others. Despite that knowledge, it only occurred to her now that Thranduil had not chosen Roewen to apprentice Caladhel by chance. He asked Roewen to escort her to Limrond, to watch over her, and that was the same reason he wished for Caladhel to work beside her at the farm. He trusted Roewen to protect her when he could not.

Caladhel wondered if Roewen would agree to help her improve her swordsmanship in exchange for some tips on archery, for she had not missed Faentôr's jab about Roewen's modest skill. Caladhel was about to raise the topic, but the sound of rustling leaves in the distance silenced her. The sound alerted both ellith, drawing their eyes and arrows to movement beneath the trees.