Author's Note: So this is going to be the last chapter of this fic – and now that I've delivered the bad news, here's the rest: The story was originally meant to have eight chapters – I'd written eight chapters – but when I got to this point, I realized there was too much intensity crammed into too little space in the last three chapters. Also, their tone was very different from the first five, so it didn't really make sense as a single fic.

This story ends here, and I'll be rewriting and expanding the last three chapters into a separate fic. I won't start posting for a few weeks, at least, because I have finals and essays and other dreadful things coming up. But when they're over, if I survive, you'll get next part of the arc.

Enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Part V: Keep the Faith

Legolas was awake early the next morning, having slept little the previous night. Despite the early hour, his father was away. Legolas briefly debated having a tray sent up, decided he had much rather speak to his friends if he could find them, and went down to breakfast in the dining hall.

Aeroniel and Saeldur were there already.

"The King's morning for petitions?" Saeldur asked, a hopeful edge to his voice as he pushed a basket of bread in Legolas' direction.

Legolas laughed. "Yes, but not to worry. He told me all about your… encounters… with Ellaurë's captains last night. And with Bercalion's captains."

Saeldur flushed. "Legolas, I know you would not have wanted me to squabble, but… I was truly provoked."

Legolas shrugged. "The reason the King summoned you was so that you would not feel constrained by what your commanding officers would want you to say or do. I cannot fault you for fulfilling his wishes."

"All the same," Saeldur mumbled, looking uncomfortable.

Legolas glanced at Aeroniel. "Is there something I should know that my father has not told me?"

"Ignore him," she responded. "He is still unhappy about last night. In your defence, though, Saeldur, I will say that Eglos should not have said as much as she did."

Before Legolas could ask any of the questions that sprang to his mind, Ellaurë appeared behind Aeroniel.

Saeldur, obviously grateful for the interruption, smiled up at her. "My lady."

Ellaurë pulled out the chair beside Aeroniel's. "I thought I might find you here," she said to Legolas. "The duty officer just reported to me – the warriors you sent to track the spiders you encountered last night have sent word."

"They have found the nest?"

"They have found a nest, very close to the southern border. They have reason to believe there is another larger one beyond the border, but they did not want to venture that far without your leave."

Legolas barely needed a moment to make up his mind. "I have to speak to Lord Norgalad now, about his next trip into the Mannish lands, but I have little to do this afternoon. I will go myself." At Ellaurë's raised eyebrows, he added, "I will return in time for the Council."

"I do not doubt that, but speak to your father before you go."

"Of course, my lady."

Ellaurë laughed. "By your leave, then, my prince."

"I will go with you," Saeldur said as she walked away.

"You are still recovering from your grievous injury," Legolas pointed out. Aeroniel quickly hid her laughter in her cup. "And a nest of spiders is unlikely to be particularly dangerous."

"I have healed enough for this. And you should not go alone."

"I will be perfectly fine. I have ventured further on my own before." Saeldur only looked at him pleadingly. "Why are you so desperate to go south?"

"I am not desperate to go south. I only think… Please. Trust me. Let me come with you."

Legolas sighed. Saeldur was not scheduled for any patrols or training supervision over the next two days in any case, so it would not disrupt the duty roster. And with the approaching Council meeting, nearly all the Sindarin and Silvan lords were in the stronghold – more than enough warriors that their absence would not matter.

"Come, then," he said at last. "We leave with the first afternoon patrol."

Legolas went to the far wing of the stronghold after breakfast. It was bustling despite the early hour, Elves standing singly or in small groups waiting to be called to the King. Several greeted him as he passed. He paused to respond, and to exchange a few words with those he knew.

As a result, he reached his study with a scant minute in which to catch his breath before there was knocking on the door.

Legolas opened it. "Lord Norgalad."

Norgalad waited for an invitation to sit. But he shook his head when Legolas offered him the letter he had received from Esgaroth.

"We can look into that later. That is not why I am here."

Legolas kept his expression neutral, although he wanted to roll his eyes. Of course Norgalad was not there for something relatively simple. No doubt he had something to complain about that even he feared to take to the King.

"Why are you here, my lord?"

"Council will meet in three days, and Istuion tells me he has put the Lady Calathiel's request in our order of business."

Legolas could not keep himself from stiffening. He hoped Norgalad had not come hoping to start a quarrel. He had no need, of course; if he wanted an argument, there were ample members of court to give him one, without his having to seek Legolas for that purpose.

"What do you think of it?" Norgalad went on, blithely unaware of Legolas' reaction.

"I hardly think this is the appropriate time or place for this conversation."

"No?" Norgalad steepled his hands, gazing at Legolas over the tops of his fingers. "I know the answer in any case. Arguments between the realm's military commanders might be private, but their views, at least in this instance, are not."

Legolas waited. He knew enough of his companion to know that it was best to let him say what he wished without interruption.

"When I first heard of it," Norgalad said, "I was… quite frankly, horrified by the idea. Healing belongs… here, in whatever peace there is to be had. To profane the minds of those whose pursuit is to preserve life with such intimate knowledge of the taking of it, even if that life is only of Orcs and Spiders… Even you, I am certain, and no matter what you say now, must have thought at first that it was very nearly blasphemous."

Legolas' patience ran out. "Do you have a point, Lord Norgalad?"

"I am not a fool, Legolas. I do not always agree with the decisions the King and his commanders make in the defence of the realm, but I do, I hope, have enough faith in them to know that, if nothing else, they always do what they believe is in the best interests of Greenwood and her people. I think that the very idea of permitting non-combatants anywhere near a battle is… worse than blasphemous, it is sheer idiocy. And yet, when the War Council meets, and I hear that the majority of them spoke in favour of the scheme… I wonder why."

"What do you want of me?" Legolas asked slowly.

"I want to understand why you, you and Ellaurë and Mídhaer, and by most accounts Arbellason and Maeglad and Bercalion, think that there is merit in this idea."

"I cannot speak for the others, my lord."

"But you can tell me what you think."

Legolas shrugged a little uncomfortably. "I think, perhaps, the issue is not as simple as you make it sound. Battle is violent and bloody and sometimes terrifying – true – but if I thought any of my archers enjoyed that, enjoyed violence and bloodshed and inspiring terror, that archer would no longer be serving under my command."

"You enjoy archery."

"Shooting at targets on the practice range? Yes, I do. And I will admit that sometimes killing a minion of the Enemy, something evil that threatens Greenwood gives me a sense of… accomplishment, for a duty done. I do not enjoy killing for its own sake. And while I require, or at least attempt to require, the same of my warriors, there is ample room for a world of difference. There are those who are utterly repulsed by bloodshed, but take up the bow out of a sense of duty, and those who find that, when the victim is allied with the Enemy, killing becomes merely distasteful."

"And is that true of any Elf who ventures onto a battlefield?"

"It is true of any Elf who ventures onto a battlefield with my leave. It is, I am certain, true of most of the Healers as well. They have not been tried, I admit. There will be some who will hate the battlefield with every fibre. There may be some, though Elbereth grant it be not so, who might take a perverse pleasure in it. There will be some who will see past the battle to the injured who need to be tended."

"That may be," Norgalad said with a negligent shrug. "But you are no child; nor, like so many of your archers, do you have the luxury of being ignorant of the functioning of court. Calathiel claims that healers immediately on the battlefield will be helpful. But they will have only what they can carry with them, the most basic medicines and very few supplies. The closest spring or water source might be leagues away. Under those circumstances, will they be able to save lives, or even significantly alleviate suffering? And if not, is it worth causing all this trouble for a matter of principle?"

"Are you asking me to withdraw my views because they might cause debate in court?"

"No!" Norgalad snapped impatiently. "I thought I made myself clear. I want to understand why you feel as you do."

"My lord," Legolas said evenly, "it has been impressed upon me from the day I was born that my first duty is and always will be to Eryn Galen. By the favour of Elbereth I have enough skill with a bow to take it up in the defence of my father's realm and people. But if I did not, I would still want to do everything I could, use whatever talents I had. Personally, I believe that serving in the Healing Wards is vital, and honourable work, and I told Calathiel as much. But it does not matter that I think so. If any Elves want to serve on battlefields in any way, and if they are willing to endure what I do not doubt will be several difficult years of training under Lord Thorontur and Lord Maeglad, I believe they should not be denied the opportunity."

Saeldur felt like a thief as he slipped down the path unnoticed. He knew, logically, there was no reason to worry – he was not on duty, and he had a perfect right to be where he was going. There was no reason for today to be different, or for anyone even to know what he had done unless he told them.

All the same, he could not help feeling as though a hundred eyes were watching his every move.

Míron was waiting for him at the appointed place. Saeldur had the impression he had been standing there for some time.

"You came," he said abruptly.

"I said I would," Saeldur responded. "What do you want with me?"

"I understand that Legolas intends to hunt spiders. And that you plan to accompany him."

Saeldur's eyes widened as he wondered who could have told Míron that, and then he remembered that they had been discussing it in the dining hall, and they had not troubled to lower their voices. Anyone might have overheard. Arahael might have overheard.

"Yes," Saeldur confirmed.

"Do not go."

"What?"

"It is simple, Saeldur. Tell Legolas your injury still troubles you – tell him you are tired – tell him anything. But do not accompany him."

"Why?" Saeldur demanded. "Do you intend to…"

"To strike?" Míron sneered. "No. Not so soon. All eyes would be on us if I did. It would never pass for an accident. If Legolas should die before he returns, it will not be my doing. But I thought that did not matter to you."

"I never said that!" Saeldur snapped. "He is my friend. Of course it matters to me."

"But…"

"But." Saeldur took a deep breath and forced out the words. "But I understand that it must be, for the good of the realm – and that is more important than my personal feelings."

Míron smiled. "So stay behind."

"What will that achieve?"

"Nothing. I will know you can be trusted – to an extent. That is all." There was a pause, and then Míron glanced up at the trees. "Not one word of this to your precious Elf-prince, do you understand?" There was an ominous creaking. "My son has orders. If Saeldur and I do not return to the stronghold safely, there will be poison in Legolas' wine." The forest stood still. "A single word to him, or to anyone, and you will make me desperate. If this reaches his ears, or, worse, Thranduil's, I will have nothing more to lose. Legolas will die before the day is out."

Saeldur caught his breath. Míron's mind was well and truly twisted. Whatever it cost him in sleepless nights and the trust of his friends, he had to play out this charade for Legolas' sake.

"Well?" Míron asked impatiently. "Will you do it?"

Saeldur lifted his chin. "I will."

"You cannot come?"

Legolas sounded more startled than displeased. All the same, Saeldur flushed.

"I… my leg, it still… I will slow you down."

Legolas' expression turned to worry. "Does it still trouble you? Perhaps you should go to the healers. It might be infected."

"It is not that bad, Legolas. I will be fine after a night's rest."

Legolas nodded, accepting that statement, and went on filling his pack. Since he was planning to return in two days, he was taking very little beyond his weapons and spare bowstrings.

"Be careful," Saeldur said, pulling the pack towards him so he could stuff in a pouch of bandages and herbs for poultices, making Legolas roll his eyes.

"It is not the first time I have left the stronghold. I know how to pack. And hunting down a few spiders is unlikely to be terribly dangerous."

"Then why are you going?" Saeldur demanded. "Any of the archers could help cull some spiders, Legolas. You do not need to go."

"Yes, I do!" Legolas shut his pack and tested the straps. "I need to get away. Norgalad came to me today to complain that we are causing undue distress in court. I do not want to know who is going to come complain tomorrow. The King will have my ears if I miss Council, but there is no need for me to wait here until then and listen to the strictures of every ellon and elleth who wishes to practice the argument."

"Legolas."

Legolas sighed. "Forgive me. It is not your fault. I should not have snapped at you."

"Promise me you will be careful."

"I will."

"You let him go?"

Ellaurë fixed Thorontur with a glare. "Legolas, permit me to remind you, is prince of this realm and commander of the archers. He chose to respond to their request in person. That is his prerogative. I did not let him do anything."

"We have Council the day after tomorrow! And court the day after that."

"I believe," Thranduil interjected firmly, "that all my commanders can be trusted to be present in the stronghold when they are required. Legolas knows there will be Council and he knows I expect him there and in court. He will return in time."

As Thorontur made an angry noise, Thranduil exchanged a glance with Arbellason. He had summoned War Council, or as many of its members were present. Legolas was not the only one who had seized the chance to get away from the oppressive atmosphere in the stronghold for a couple of days. Mîr-megil and Ionwë had discovered the need for urgent inspections of the border guards, Maeglad had taken his students on a training exercise, and Bercalion had volunteered to carry messages to the southern settlements.

"You are very anxious all of a sudden, Thorontur," Mídhaer snapped.

Thorontur transferred his scowl to her. "You have accused me of giving over command of the archers to Legolas –"

"Accusation implies uncertainty. Everyone knows you gave up command of the archers to Legolas."

Thranduil considered intervening, but decided against it. If he let them shout at each other behind the closed doors of the Council chamber, they might still manage to be civilized in court.

"And what else should I have done?" Thorontur demanded. "To whom should I have given up command of the archers, if not to the King's son and the finest archer in the realm?"

"If you think Legolas is a good commander –"

"I think no Elf in the realm would have been a better commander," Thorontur said fiercely. "I think he is a better commander than I was or ever would have been. And if you believe otherwise… you truly understand nothing."

THE END

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