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Part II: The King's War Council

"You know why I have called you," Thranduil said, when everyone had taken a seat.

There was an unusual undercurrent of tension running through the room. The Elves on the War Council were normally on excellent terms, all completely loyal to the King and all extremely skilled warriors and commanders. They liked and respected each other; there was no other way they could have defended the realm as successfully as they did. There were disagreements in Council, but never real ill-will.

This morning, though, there was ill-will.

The King of the Woodland Realm let out a breath. Apparently Arbellason's advice had been wise.

"As you are aware," he said, keeping his voice cheerful in an attempt to break the tension, "it is Calathiel's wish that she, and consequently any other healers who wish it, should be allowed to go onto battlefields to be of more immediate assistance to warriors. This is, naturally, a… difficult subject." He looked around, growing serious. "I understand that there will be strong views, but I will not have my most trusted commanders quarrelling before the full Council. If there is anything to be said, say it now."

Thorontur barely waited for Thranduil to finish speaking before he snapped, "Calathiel is a fool! You cannot be thinking of allowing this!"

"Why should we not allow it?" demanded Bercalion. "Nobody is sending non-combatants into battle, Thorontur. They will be out of the way of any fighting."

"They will still be in danger."

"No more than Elves who live away from the stronghold, particularly in the southern part of the forest," Ellaurë said. "If you can respect that it is their choice to do so…"

"No," Thorontur repeated stubbornly. "That is not the same thing. To force Elves from their homes, when they themselves have no desire to leave, would be to give in to the fear of the Enemy. Sending healers to fight battles in unnecessary and dangerous."

"Is it not acting in fear of the Enemy to prevent them?" Mídhaer protested. "They will not go to fight battles, only to assist the wounded."

"They may not intend to fight, but how certain can any of us be that they will be able to avoid it, even with the best intentions of their captains in the field?"

Arbellason frowned slightly. "Thorontur, I understand how you feel, but –"

"Do you, Arbellason?" There was a hard edge to Thorontur's voice. "Have you ever sent a child into battle?"

"I have," Mídhaer snapped, unable to restrain herself. "Rochendilwen might not be my own child, but Elbereth knows I love her as though she were."

"Rochendilwen is a fine archer," Thorontur responded. "She can defend herself."

"We will send nobody anywhere near the field before they have learnt enough of both the bow and the sword to satisfy the weapons masters," Legolas interjected. "They will be able to defend themselves at need."

Thorontur scowled at him. "I see my daughter won you over."

"I understand how she feels, my lord," Legolas said. Mild as he sounded, there was also an undertone of firmness that said he did not intend to be bullied into backing down.

Thranduil suppressed a smile. His son was growing up.

"Do you understand that if we send non-combatants into the field, they might be killed?" Thorontur demanded.

Legolas' eyes narrowed, but he sounded calm as he responded. "I assure you I understand that perfectly well, my lord. Any of us might be killed."

"Ellaurë," Arbellason cut in, clearly hoping to defuse the situation, "if we permit this, the healers will begin with your patrols. We will certainly not be sending them to the borders, or for that matter with Legolas' archers, until they have had some experience. What do you say?"

Ellaurë half-smiled. "The healers may not have learnt warcraft, but it is not for us to doubt their courage. Perhaps that is for them to decide."

"There is a reason they have never permitted been on the battlefield before," Mîr-megil said, speaking for the first time. "The sight can be disturbing, especially to those who are unused to it."

Maeglad shook his head. "I doubt healers are frightened of blood and broken bones. They have certainly seen their share."

"This is no joking matter," Mîr-megil insisted. "Seeing the aftermath of a fight is not the same thing as seeing a fight. Will they be prepared for it?"

"I think we might trust their own judgement of that," said Mídhaer. "We trust our novices, after all."

"It is unthinkable," Thorontur snapped.

Thranduil kept his expression neutral despite his urge to sigh. It was clear, to him at least, that no amount of reasoning would change Thorontur's mind. Worse, his attitude was making the others unwilling to listen to what would, if Thorontur would only make them rationally, be very persuasive arguments for his case.

Mídhaer, meanwhile, was scowling at the Archery Master.

"I have a question for you," she said, in a voice that sounded oddly dangerous.

"Ask it, then," said Thorontur.

"It has been many, many years, but I trust you have not forgotten the day when, sitting in this same Council chamber, we debated whether it was wise to let Legolas go on patrols and into battle, in peril of his life, as often as he does. You said then – you said it fiercely and with conviction, and I agreed with you – that we could not deny his right to do all he could to defend the realm, especially since Thranduil had given up active martial duty."

There was a pregnant pause.

"What are you saying to me?" Thorontur snarled, every word like ice.

"I am saying you have no qualms about the risks warriors take. You actively supported Legolas' wish to risk his own life."

"Mídhaer," Îdhron protested. "You cannot truly mean what you are implying."

"Are you suggesting, Lady Mídhaer," Thorontur said, even more coldly, "that I do not care about my archers, or that I do not care about Legolas? Which is it?"

"They are Legolas' archers." Mídhaer matched his tone. "Or Thranduil's archers. They have not been your archers since you gave up command to an Elf whose life you appear perfectly willing to wager –"

"Do not dare."

"Mídhaer," Arbellason interjected, before she could respond. "Please, calm yourself. Thorontur, she asks a legitimate question –"

"No." Thorontur rounded on his friend, outrage and betrayal on his face. "You, of all people –"

"Yes," Arbellason said calmly. "I of all people. All people will say this, Thorontur, and those who are too frightened to say it to your face will say it in your absence. You know that as well as I. Better that you should answer that question in this chamber than be unprepared when it is asked outside it."

"My lord," Legolas began tentatively, but Thranduil waved him to silence.

Thorontur caught the gesture. His scowl deepened. "What question, Arbellason? Mídhaer?" he demanded. "Do I care less for Legolas' life and safety than I do for the children of my blood? Is that your question?"

Arbellason did not flinch under his glare. "That is my question."

"If you truly believe that… Morgoth take you all. I never thought to hear that accusation in this Council."

"Outrage is not an answer," said Mídhaer.

"Why skate around the issue?" Thorontur growled. "Tell me I do not care for Legolas. Tell me I have not grieved over every drop of his blood spilled as much as Thranduil has. Look me in the eye and say it!"

"Whether or not Mídhaer says it, there are others who will," said Arbellason. "People are whispering it already. Do you intend to silence everyone with stories of how much you have suffered over Legolas' injuries?"

"I will not sit here and listen to this!"

The door banged shut behind him.

"I think we all need time to think over how we feel," Thranduil said into the stunned silence. "Since nobody appears to have given me a reason not to put this to Council, it will go into the order of business as scheduled. Council will meet in four days' time. War Council will meetthe night before that. I strongly urge you all to sort out your ideas by then, since I would like to have a coherent discussion and not… a repetition of today. Everyone is to attend. Reschedule your other duties if you must," he added to Legolas, Ellaurë and Îdhron. "I need hardly remind you that, whatever your views, there will be no arguing in public, and certainly not before the warriors. Dismissed."

As Thranduil got to his feet, he glanced at Legolas, a slight nod indicating that he wanted his son to stay behind.

As soon as everyone had left, they went through the connecting door to the King's study.

"Sit," Thranduil said, indicating the chairs by the hearth. "Unfortunately it is too early in the morning for wine."

"Do you need wine, then?" Legolas asked, amused. "Or do you imagine I do?"

"A little of both." Thranduil sat. It was still near enough to summer that there was no fire in the grate. "Thorontur has not spoken to you of this, yet, has he?"

"I think he hoped my captains would oppose it and relieve him of the need."

"He is not thinking entirely dispassionately about this. Do not let him upset you." Thranduil shook his head. "He has surprised me in the past few weeks. If anything, I thought he would be likelier than Celebwen to approve Calathiel's idea." He glanced at his son. "I remember him, when Feredir first took up the sword. To tell the truth, I was terrified then – it was so very clear that Feredir was never meant to be a warrior. Thorontur was worried, but not unduly so. I would understand if he disagreed with the scheme, but this reaction… This is not like him."

Legolas only nodded.

"There is one other thing I wanted to tell you," Thranduil went on. "I intend to summon the captains tonight." He paused. "Only the captains. Not their commanding officers. I had word sent to them before this morning's Council."

Legolas laughed at that. "Do you fear that we intimidate our captains so much that you cannot bear to have us present when you speak to them?"

"In your case, at least, I would be likelier to get the truth from your captains if you were present. They would consider it betrayal to disagree with you in your absence. But I would rather not risk Thorontur hearing what they might say."

"You truly do think he will react badly."

"I truly do not know how he will react." Thranduil reached out to squeeze his son's shoulder. "He is supervising your archers this morning, I believe."

Legolas nodded. "He will walk down with me, if he is not too angry."

Thranduil smiled. "I hope he does. He ought not be teaching anybody anything in his present mood. If anyone can calm him after this morning, you can."

Saeldur's leg had healed well enough to allow him to walk to the practice ranges and supervise the archers. This would normally have been Legolas' morning for that duty, but considering what the War Council had intended to discuss, especially considering the contents of the note a page had brought him that morning, he had a feeling his friend might thank him for taking it over.

The archers, sensing the tension in the air, and a little disturbed by the fact that neither Legolas nor Thorontur had yet appeared, were nowhere near achieving their normal pinpoint precision. Saeldur had coaxed and lectured and scolded by turns, but nothing had had any effect.

"And furthermore," he said, drawing a breath to continue telling off a pair of archers who had been so worried about outdoing each other that neither had managed a respectable showing in the past half-hour. "The next time I see you looking at your partner's target instead of your own –"

Then he stopped short, staring at the path that led from the stronghold through the courtyard to the archery ranges. Legolas and Thorontur were coming down it together. One glance was enough to tell Saeldur they had been arguing. It appeared Council had been even more acrimonious than Legolas had anticipated.

"Go," he said shortly to the pair of archers before him.

"Go… where, Lord Saeldur?" Húrphen asked.

Saeldur rolled his eyes at the use of his formal title, a sign that Húrphen feared he truly was in disgrace.

"Go anywhere," he said. "If either Legolas or Lord Thorontur sees another round of that this morning, the consequences may be such as even I would not wish on you. Go work some of your rivalry off with your knives if you have nothing else to do."

Húrphen and Ornil practically scampered in their haste to get away.

Legolas and Thorontur parted when they reached the archery ranges. Thorontur went to relieve Rochendilwen, who was supervising a dozen archers as they loosed arrows at small clay balls their fellow-warriors were throwing into the air for them. Saeldur saw more than one of the targets hit the ground without ever having been touched by an arrow, and he could not help wincing for whichever archers would be judged responsible.

Legolas walked off to the side, where he could watch all the ranges. He barely acknowledged Rochendilwen's greeting as he passed her.

Saeldur raised his eyebrows. It must have been a very acrimonious Council meeting indeed.

Saeldur could not help cringing as he watched. He had seen Thorontur in a worse mood than this only once, and then he had been so unrelenting in his displeasure that even Legolas had fumbled his shots. The archers on the field now had no chance. In minutes they were all shooting wide, untouched balls thudding to the ground like hailstones.

Saeldur looked at Legolas. Surely he was going to say something.

Legolas' jaw was tight, but he maintained his silence.

Saeldur exchanged a glance with Rochendilwen.

Thorontur scowled as another archer grouped her arrows in an untidy cloud around the centre of the target.

"My lord," Saeldur said, since nobody else appeared to be saying anything, "perhaps a short rest –"

"Rest? Do you think the Enemy is resting in his stronghold, Saeldur? I will not have it said that I sent warriors out inadequately prepared –"

"Lord Thorontur." Legolas' voice, quiet but firm, cut into Thorontur's before he could get well begun on his diatribe. Saeldur had not heard him approach, but he stood just behind the Archery Master now. "May I have a word with you in private, my lord?"

Without waiting for a response, he walked off in the direction of the archers' hall, which Saeldur knew would probably be empty just then. Anyone who did not have training would have slipped away to avoid catching his eye.

Thorontur followed, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"Get back to practice," Saeldur ordered, before the archers could begin gathering in groups to gossip. That was the closest to a public argument Legolas and Thorontur had ever come, and the less said about it, the better.

For a time, there was no sound save the twanging of bowstrings and the barely-audible thwacks of arrows hitting their targets.

Nearly a quarter an hour passed before the door into the hall opened again. Thorontur stepped out. He seemed outwardly calm, but there was something in his eye that suggested his temper was close to snapping.

"Whoever has the next patrol, go and get ready for it," he said. "The rest of you may have the morning free. You will have training after lunch as usual."

He went back inside, shutting the door again.

"Go," Saeldur said in response to the questioning looks he received. "And take the morning to think about how you can do better in the afternoon. If you shoot like this with Lord Thorontur only raising his voice, I cannot imagine what sort of precision you hope to achieve in an actual battle."

He got more than one reproachful look. Most of the archers were more terrified of Thorontur's – and, worse, Legolas' – disappointment than they were of Orcs and giant spiders. But they went, leaving him alone with Rochendilwen.

"Should we go and see?" she asked.

Saeldur shrugged, going to the door. "If Legolas wants us gone, he will tell us so."

He knocked, pushing the door open as soon as he was bidden.

Legolas and Thorontur stood a few feet from the door, clearly in the middle of an argument. They stepped away from each other when Saeldur and Rochendilwen entered the room.

"What is it, Saeldur? Does anyone have any questions?" Thorontur asked.

"No, my lord. We just thought… If there is something wrong…"

He trailed off, glancing at Legolas.

"I appreciate your concern," Legolas said quietly. "There is nothing wrong."

Thorontur nodded. "We… Only needed to have a brief discussion. I must go now. I have business with…" He shook his head. "I have other business." He started to go; then, as though he could not help himself, he turned and told Saeldur, "Make certain everyone is on the ranges as usual this afternoon."

"Of course, my lord," said Saeldur, astonished that Thorontur though he needed to be told that. "As you said."

Thorontur grimaced. "Had we been doing what I said, this morning's training would not have been cancelled at all."

Saeldur's eyes widened at the implication. He had suspected as much, but this was confirmation that Legolas had overruled Thorontur to insist that training be cancelled. It had been done privately, and while the archers might guess, they would never know. And it was within Legolas' rights to do that. But it was a right he seldom exercised.

And that Thorontur should as good as admit it to Saeldur and Rochendilwen…

"I will not have the archers going into battle inadequately prepared," Thorontur went on. That was a normal enough statement, but there was something in his tone.

"Lord Thorontur," Legolas said, and although his voice was perfectly even, Saeldur could tell he was frustrated, "I am not responsible for what Lady Mídhaer says in Council. Neither are my archers."

Thorontur only inclined his head formally. "I will see you in the morning."

Legolas fortunately managed to wait until the door had shut behind him before he gave vent to a combination of Sindarin and Quenya that made Rochendilwen giggle.

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