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Eilian and the Lembas Maiden's Kiss  by daw the minstrel

Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this story for me.  Happy birthday, Karen.  You too, Elliska.


 

Chapter 1. The Wager

Arms stretched wide, Eilian shuffled to his left, all his weight on the balls of his feet, ready to dart in and wrestle Fendîr to the ground the minute the other novice gave him an opening.  Fendîr crept cautiously to his own left, his mouth pursed in concentration.  Eilian grinned and waggled his fingers.  "Come on.  We have been at this long enough.  Time to go home."

From the corner of his eye, Eilian saw Maldor, the unarmed combat master, put his hands on his hips.  He suppressed a grimace.  It would be just like Maldor to keep them late because Eilian said it was time to go home.  Too bad.  The sun Eilian was trying to get out of his eyes told him they had already drilled past the time they normally stopped.

He glimpsed the slight flexing of Fendîr knees just before the other novice hurled himself forward to grab Eilian's left wrist.  Fendîr's left foot shot out, trying to hook Eilian's ankle.  Eilian leapt over the hooking foot and twisted his hand in Fendîr's grip to seize the hand holding his.  For a moment, they grappled. Then Eilian twisted, flipping Fendîr over his hip.  The novice landed hard on his back.  Eilian crowed and stepped back, arms raised.

Fendîr blinked up at him from his place in the dirt.  He inhaled, filling lungs that had emptied in a whoosh when he landed.  "Good throw," he wheezed.

Eilian could not resist throwing a triumphant glance at Maldor, who returned a level, narrow-eyed look that Eilian recognized with an unpleasant twinge in his gut.  Now what?

"Eilian," Maldor said, "what have I told you about grabbing someone's wrist if he already has a grip on yours?"

Eilian searched the litter in his memory, trying to dig up whatever Maldor-given advice he had shoved aside.  "You showed us how to do it."

Maldor drew a long breath.  "What else?"

Eilian chewed his lip.  An unwelcome scrap of information wriggled into his mind, like a bug crawling out from under a pile of kindling when the fire began to grow hot. "You said if it was done incorrectly, my opponent could break my wrist.  But," he added, "I did it correctly."

Maldor's mouth set in a thin line.  "I showed you that move once, and I said you are not to use it yet, something you would have known had you paid attention."

Behind Maldor, the other novices shuffled their feet and looked anywhere but at Eilian.  His face grew warm, and his chest swelled at the master's unfairness.  "I did pay attention.  You saw I did the move just as you showed us."

His friend Gelmir raised his eyes from the ground to shoot a wide-eyed look at Eilian.

Maldor took a step toward Eilian.  "Are you arguing with me?"

The question was one Eilian's father occasionally asked, and he had eventually learned it had only one possible answer.  Eilian kept his voice even and his face blank.  "No, Master."  At least, he did not think he was.  Not really.

"Master?"  A first-year novice had materialized unnoticed at Maldor's elbow.

"What is it, Seor?"  Maldor scowled at him.

The knob in Seor's throat bobbed.  "Lómilad sent me to ask if you were coming to the meeting.  The other training masters are all waiting."

Maldor waved his hand.  "Tell him I will be along directly."  Seor scurried away, and Maldor once again aimed his attention at Eilian.  "You pull one more stunt like that, Eilian, and I will assume you have somehow missed learning basic discipline and set you to training with the newest novices.  You may all go."  He strode off the field toward the novice masters' hut.

Most of the group disappeared as quickly as they could.  Gelmir and Fendîr came to stand next to Eilian, who still glared after Maldor.  "What a horse's behind," Eilian said.

Gelmir grimaced.  "You should take care, Eilian. He will carry out his threat if you cross him again."

Fendîr grinned.  "And an excellent thing that would be.  I am tired of having my face ground into the dirt.  You will be a better person for letting the younglings chew on your ankles for a while, Eilian."

Eilian laughed, but to himself he vowed to follow Gelmir's advice and follow the path of caution, assuming he could find it.  Being sent to train with the youngest novices would be more humiliating than Eilian cared to think about.  He would never be able to explain to his parents how maddening Maldor was, and of course, Ithilden would know all about it, a thought that made Eilian squirm.  His friends had no idea how fortunate they were that the troop commander was not also their brother.  Ithilden had been far too 'commanding' for Eilian's comfort even before he became a novice.

He, Gelmir, and Fendîr started off the training field and along the path toward home.

"There is Celuwen."  Gelmir nodded toward a path coming from the left to cross the one they were on.  "She must have had to work with Alfirin again."  They halted.

"What is wrong with working with Alfirin?"  Fendîr eyed the two approaching maidens.  "She is quite pretty."

Gelmir grinned.  "I doubt if Celuwen cares about the pretty part, and she seems to find Alfirin uninteresting.  No doubt she misses me and Eilian.  We are far more amusing."

Eilian watched the two maidens coming toward them.  Celuwen had her head tilted to hear what Alfirin was saying, but she caught sight of Eilian and smiled faintly at him.  Whatever Alfirin was talking about was apparently a serious matter to her, for her look was earnest.

Eilian weighed Fendîr's claim that Alfirin was pretty.  He had to admit there was something appealing about her sweet solemnity.   Like opaque water, it filled him with an urge to learn just how deep it ran.  She fell silent when she and Celuwen drew near Eilian and his friends.

"Mae govannen," Eilian said.  "How goes the lembas grain harvest?"

"Slowly," Celuwen said, "since we cannot use a blade to cut it."

"You have been working hard."  Fendîr's voice was almost unrecognizable in its warmth as he addressed Alfirin.  Gelmir rolled his eyes at Eilian.

"The result will be worth the effort though," Alfirin said.  "With the Shadow's return, our warriors are away longer, and my naneth says lembas nourish the wounded like no other food."

Eilian smiled at her.  "Never think we do not appreciate what you lembas maidens do.  The fruits of your labor feed us and heal us.  What more could we ask?"

"'Us'?"  Celuwen raised a finely arched brow.

Alfirin met his gaze with a level look.  "Your naneth says lembas are a gift from Yavanna, and we are blessed to share in making them."

Eilian had the distinct feeling he was being rebuked, a feeling that sharpened its bite when Gelmir grinned at him from behind Alfirin's back.

"I will see you tomorrow, Celuwen," Alfirin said.  "Good day to you all."  She crossed the path they were on and took another that led to her home.

As soon as she disappeared among the trees, Fendîr snickered.  "Could she have been less impressed?"

"I do not see how," Celuwen said cheerily.

"She admires you as much as Maldor does," Gelmir said.

"She could be brought around," Eilian said.

Fendîr and Gelmir both hooted.  "She would rather dance with a Dwarf," Fendîr said.

Eilian could not help being stung.  "I will wager a set of swan feather that she could."

Fendîr pursed his lips.  "What do you mean 'brought around'?"

Eilian's mind whirred.  "She will give me a kiss."

Celuwen gave a smothered exclamation, and Fendî and Gelmir both guffawed.  "She does not kiss anyone," Gelmir said.

"Of course not," Celuwen said. "She takes serious things seriously."  Her cheeks had gone pink.

"Will you really wager the feathers?" Fendîr asked.  "If you will, I have some very nice arrow points I would wager against them.  We would have to set a time limit though."

"Any limit you like," Eilian said.

"Three days."  Fendîr smiled blandly.

Eilian hesitated only long enough to decide he could not back down now, not unless he wanted Fendîr to hound him until they were both a hundred.  "Done.  Celuwen, what was she talking about so intently when you two were walking?"

"Weaving.  She wants to weave a wall hanging showing an ear of lembas grain, but she fears it will be difficult to capture the feathery look."  Celuwen's eyes narrowed.  "Are you planning to talk to her about that as a way to 'bring her around'?"  She ran her gaze over the three of them.  "You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

Gelmir touched a finger to his chest.  "What did I do?"

"It is only a kiss," Eilian said, although seeing how upset Celuwen was, he wondered if perhaps he had gone too far.

She brushed past him and stalked off down the same path Alfirin had taken.

"Will we see you at the river tonight?" he called after her.

"Probably," she answered over her shoulder.  "Unless I decide to find someone to kiss, because after all it would only be a kiss."

"Go ahead."  He turned to his friends.  "She never would."  He looked for confirmation to Gelmir, whose eyes were on Celuwen's dwindling back.

"Probably not."  The corners of Gelmir's mouth twitched.  Eilian assumed he found Celuwen's threat as amusing as Eilian did.

"Three days then," Fendîr said.  "I look forward to having the swan feathers."

Eilian grinned.  "Losing those arrow points will teach you the perils of wagering."

They all laughed and started again for home.

***

Eilian hurried into the dining room to find both his parents already there.  His father had evidently just arrived, and his mother was smoothing out the collar of Thranduil's tunic.  Thranduil caught her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.  She smiled, then turned to greet Eilian and scan the green silk tunic he had put on to wear to the river.  "Are you going out, my sweet?"

"Yes."  He shot a quick look at his father.  "Just to hear the music along the river."  Thranduil nodded, and Eilian relaxed.

The door banged open, and Ithilden strode into the room, his hair still damp from the bath.  "I am sorry I am late.  The novice masters wanted to talk about the autumn exercise."

Eilian watched him from the corner of his eye, wondering if Maldor had told Ithilden about their encounter that afternoon, but Ithilden took his place serenely when Thranduil nodded permission.  Eilian sat too.

The servants must have been watching for Ithilden's arrival, because two of them now entered the room with platters of venison and fried mushrooms.  They circled the table, putting food on the plates, then set the platters down and left the room.

"How was your day, Lorellin?"  Thanduil cut a piece of meat.  "Is the lembas grain harvest going well?"

"The maidens are working so hard," she said.  "They will probably finish gathering the grain tomorrow.  Then they can grind it the next day spend the night in the forest, seeking Yavanna's blessing to make the bread at sunrise."

Eilian had frequently heard his mother talk about teaching maidens to make lembas.  She had charge of storing the lembas and distributing them, but only the lembas maidens could handle the grain and make the treasured bread.  Of course, the bread had become even more valuable in the last few years since the return of the Shadow, and the Wood Elves never had a huge supply.  The grain would not grow in shade, so Thranduil's people planted it in sunny glades, and ones that were large enough were not numerous.

Ithilden swallowed a mouthful of mushrooms.  "When the lembas are ready, Naneth, I would like to talk to you about where they will do the most good."

"Of course.  Eilian took a message Belówen this morning asking him to let me know how much they need in the infirmary.  Once he tells me that, I will know how much is left for your patrols."

Eilian's fork stopped halfway to his mouth.  "I am sorry, Naneth, but I forgot."

"Forgot to deliver the message?"  Thranduil straightened his already erect back.

"Yes," Eilian said.  "I will do it first thing tomorrow."

"You will do it tonight," Thranduil said.

"But Belówen will have gone home."

"Then that is where you will go too."

"But I am supposed to meet Gelmir along the river."

Thranduil rapped the blunt end of his knife on the table.  "Are you arguing with me?"

Eilian suppressed a sigh.  How many times could he answer that question in one day?  "No, Adar.  I just do not see why it cannot wait until tomorrow."

"It cannot wait because you agree to be responsible for doing it, and carrying out that responsibility is more important than any plans you might have."

Eilian glanced at his mother.  Sometimes she intervened if she thought his father was being too hard, but all she did now was watch him with grave attention.  He grimaced.  "I will take the message tonight."

"Thank you, Eilian," his mother said.

His father had opened his mouth to speak, but now looked at her from under lowered lids, and ate a forkful of venison instead.  Her mouth curved in a secretive smile Eilian had never seen her give anyone but his father.

Ithilden said, "The stablemaster tells me your mare's foot is healing well, Naneth."

"It is."  She turned to him with eager warmth.  "I should be able to ride her in another day or two."

Eilian slid a fried mushroom around his plate.  Belówen lived in the opposite direction from where Elves would gather to sing and harp along the river.  He popped the mushroom into his mouth.  That was all right.  He would simply have to hurry.  He really should have remembered the message earlier anyway.

***

Eilian strode along the riverside path, scanning the sheltered spots among the trees for his friends.  Music flowed over him as he passed groups of Elves out enjoying the summer night.  As always, Eilian was amused by the way the groups all blithely sang or played different songs.  Somehow, the songs seemed to bend at the edges to accommodate one another, with the trees and even the river adding strands to the woven fabric of the music.

"Over here, Eilian," Gelmir's voice called, and Eilian spotted a small knot of young people lounging on blankets beneath a friendly maple.  He climbed a slight hill to join them.  Gelmir sat cross-legged next to Celuwen.  Fendîr leaned against the maple on Celuwen's other side, and next to him, sat Alfirin, her legs tucked demurely under her.  She looked nearly as surprised to find herself among them as Eilian was to see her there.

"You are late," Gelmir said.

"I had an errand to run."  Eilian dropped to the ground next to Alfirin and smiled at her.  "I hope I am not too late to hear the best music."

Alfirin tugged her skirt away from him, as if she were afraid he would somehow catch it and use it to pin her down.  Her mouth gathered in a prim little rosebud that made Eilian itch to coax it open.  "I believe the music usually goes on most of the night," she said.

Fendîr grinned at Eilian over her head.

Eilian tried again.  "Celuwen says you are a weaver."

Her shoulders relaxed by the width of an eyelash.  "I am."  She hesitated.  "Did she tell you I am working on a wall hanging of an ear of lembas grain?"

"She did.  It must be a challenging subject."

She actually leaned a little toward him.  "It is, but I have some beautiful golden-brown thread that is just the color of the grain."  Her eyes widened in her enthusiasm.

Celuwen rose abruptly.  "Gelmir and I are going to walk a little in that direction."  She pointed vaguely.  "Someone is playing a harp."

Gelmir snapped his mouth shut and hastily got to his feet.  "We will be back."

"No need to hurry," Eilian said.

Gelmir laughed and trotted after Celuwen, who had not waited for him.

"Fendîr," Eilian said, "did you not tell me you and Gîl-Garion were playing Danger in the Dark tonight?"

"I do not think so."  Fendîr wriggled, settling himself more comfortably. "You must be mistaken."

Eilian suppressed a desire to grab Fendîr's ankle and drag him down the hill to the river.  Alfirin did not strike him as the kind of maiden who would be impressed by that.  "Are you sure?  If Gîl-Garion is hiding somewhere, waiting for you, then it would be unfair of you not to play your part."  Eilian bent forward to look around Alfirin at Fendîr.  "I know you would never want to play a game unfairly."

Fendîr's teeth flashed white in the darkness.  "You know me, Eilian.  "I always play fair, but I see no reason to give the game away."

Eyes narrowed, Alfirin looked from Eilian to Fendîr and back again.

Eilian swallowed the words trembling on his tongue and smiled at her.  He would let the music soothe her for a while, he decided.  Fendîr obviously had no intention of moving, and Eilian would not help his own cause by making Alfirin more wary.

He stretched out on his elbow, watching her from the corner of his eye and letting his thoughts drift.  Unfortunately, the first image that swam to the surface of his mind was Maldor's scowling face, followed closely by the stiffening of Thranduil's back when he learned Eilian had forgotten to deliver his mother's message.  Eilian sighed and rolled onto his back with one arm flung over his eyes.  What point was there to prodding at the soreness still lingering from his father's and Maldor's disapproval?

A sweet soprano rose from beside him, as Alfirin joined in a song.  Eilian lowered his arm and gazed up through the lace of leaves at the stars, thick as winter snowflakes in the night sky.  She had a sweet, true voice.  He turned on his side to face her and began to sing a counterpoint.  She glanced at him, her mouth still rounded in an O as she held a note, but her eyes softening into a smile.  He smiled as well as he could while continuing to sing too.  Approval could come from pretty maids as well as parents and masters, and Eilian had found that feminine approval could spread balm on many a wound.

TBC

Thanks again to Nilmandra for her thoughtful beta reading.


Chapter 2.  The Kiss

"You are dismissed," the blade master said.

Eilian jammed his practice sword into the rack, then stood jiggling one leg while Gelmir chatted with Gîl-Garion, who was still swinging his sword, trying out the different grip the blade master had suggested.  Eilian was pleased with how well he had done today.  He liked the blade master, who had made Eilian the leader of his side in the group bout with which they had finished the class.

Two figures moved out the lengthening shadows under a clump of pines along the right hand edge of the field, and Eilian stilled.  One of the two was Lómilad, the head novice master, and there was no mistaking the other tall, broad shouldered form.  Eilian began tapping his toe again.  Yesterday, Ithilden had been on the path near the training field at end of the previous day's archery class.  Was his brother watching him?  Ithilden and Lómilad were moving away, Ithilden slowly nodding as the novice master spoke.  Uneasiness prickled at the back of Eilian's mind.  In his experience, people did not keep an eye on him out of an overflow of enthusiasm for his behavior.

Eilian shifted from foot to foot and looked toward the forest, crowding up against the field's far end.  Why did people have to make things so complicated?  Life held so many good things.  What was wrong with reaching for them sometimes?

At length, Gelmir sauntered to the rack and dropped his training sword in.  As soon as Gelmir joined him, Eilian strode off.

Gelmir trotted to catch up.  "Is there some reason we are running?"

Eilian slowed his pace, but Gelmir caught his arm and dragged until it felt to Eilian as if they were creeping like earthworms.

"I have an idea," Eilian said.

"About what?"

"About Alfirin."  Eilian had sought Alfirin out on both of the last two evenings.  He was at training all day, and she was busy with the lembas maidens, but he had found her by the river both nights.  Unfortunately, both times she had been in the company of the smugly smiling Fendîr.  He could not have shadowed her more closely if he had been appointed her bodyguard.

Gelmir rolled his eyes.  "That battle is lost, Eilian.  Celuwen says they are spending the night in the woods doing whatever it is the lembas maidens do before they make the bread at dawn.  And by the time we are done with training tomorrow, your three days will be up."

"That is why I have to make my move tonight."

Gelmir gaped at him.  "You mean interrupt the lembas making?  You cannot do that!"

"Of course not.  Making the lembas is important.  Besides my naneth will be with them."  Eilian paused over that thought.  His mother was usually sympathetic to his schemes, but he had the uncomfortable feeling she would be less than happy about his wager with Fendîr.  "But last year, Celuwen said they ground the grain the day before, then move away from the grain field and keep vigil around it in the company of the maiden they worked with.  So Celuwen and Alfirin will be together somewhere near the lembas grain field tonight."

"They will be keeping vigil.  They will be silent.  You cannot talk to them."  Gelmir sounded as if he were explaining that Eilian should not go out in the rain because he would get wet.

"But the vigil will not start until the moon rises," Eilian said.  "We just have to catch them when they first take up their position."  He grinned.  "You see how perfect it is?  Fendîr will be nowhere in sight, and Celuwen will know I want her to leave Alfirin and me alone."

Gelmir snorted.  "Have you not been listening to Celuwen?  She will restring your harp and wrap it around your neck."

Eilian shrugged.  "She talks like that, but she is always our friend before she is anyone else's.  We need to find a way to get out tonight."

"We?  Why do I have to go?"  Gelmir's protest was feeble, and the look on his face said even he knew it.

"I need you as a witness.  Fendîr will never believe me otherwise.  Can I spend the night at your cottage?"

"My naneth will check on us every time she hears a leaf land on the roof.  She has grown more suspicious since the last time."

"Then you will have to stay with me.  I will think of a way for us to slip out of the palace."

Gelmir groaned and rubbed his hand over his face.  "All right."

"Your parents will allow it?"

"Oh yes.  My naneth thinks we are under guard when I stay with you.  She likes the idea."

Eilian laughed.  "I cannot imagine why."  They resumed walking home.

***

Eilian cracked open the door to the antechamber, checked that neither his father nor Ithilden was in sight, and then, with Gelmir by his side, he crossed it and walked confidently out the Great Doors, through which he and Gelmir had returned from the river only a short time earlier.  As they passed between the guards, he turned to Gelmir and asked, "Will your naneth make griddle cakes for morning meal tomorrow?"

"Yes, she will.  She always does on the day the lembas are made."  Gelmir sounded as if someone had yanked his quiver strap too tight.

One of the guards was moving toward them, but now he hesitated.  Eilian nodded and smiled to him and his companion.  "Good evening."  He and Gelmir descended the steps and sauntered toward the path leading to Gelmir's cottage.

As soon as they were out of the guards' sight, Gelmir let out a long, wobbly breath.

Eilian laughed.  "You see.  The trick was to leave early, while it was still plausible we could be going to your cottage.  Come.  We don't want to be late."

They moved quickly through the forest toward the lembas grain field.  Eilian stopped well before they reached it.  The field was sacred, and he did not want to get too close.  It belonged to the maidens, and their mothers and their mothers in the years before they wed.  Most of all, it belonged to Yavanna.  He and Gelmir did not belong there, though when the time came, they would accept with gratitude what Yavanna and the lembas maidens had grown and cooked.

Still, he saw no harm in approaching Celuwen and Alfirin after they had left the field, so long as it was before the moon rose.  He and Gelmir hung their packs in an oak and slid through the trees, taking greater and greater care not to disturb a twig or leaf as they closed in on their target.

Eilian's body hummed with the same pleasant tension he felt when he dove from the highest rocks at the bend in the river.  He heard more clearly, saw more sharply, felt more acutely than he did in the flat moments of everyday life.  The forest whispered around him, and his body settled into harmony with it.  Without being able to say how, he knew when he and Gelmir drew near the first pair of lembas maidens.  The life of the forest flowed around them, as a stream flowed around pebbles lying in its bed.

He raised his hand.  Gelmir must have been watching for his signal because he halted instantly.  Eilian stood still, watching the pale spot under a maple.  After a moment, a feminine voice murmured something, and maidens' soft laughter bubbled through the night.

He smiled but moved on.  Neither maiden was Celuwen, whose voice was pitched low for a maiden's.  He led Gelmir in an arc to their left, circling the lembas grain field.  Something stirred to their right, and again he halted.  In a small clearing, two figures sat with their heads tilted up to the stars.  The night breeze stirred the skirts of their light summer gowns.  One of them swept her arm in a gesture that took in the whole sky, and immediately, Eilian knew.  Even among Elves, Celuwen's grace was unusual.

He put his mouth next to Gelmir's ear.  "Can you see from here?"

Gelmir nodded.

"Then stay."  Eilian crept a dozen yards further, then drew a deep breath, and walked boldly toward them, twigs snapping beneath his feet, leaves stirring at his passage.

"Who's there?" Celuwen asked sharply.

He stopped.  "Celuwen?"  He let his voice rise, as if startled to find her there.  "Is that you?"

There was a moment's silence.  "Good evening, Eilian."

He suppressed a grin.  Celuwen's tone told him she knew exactly how unsurprised he was to find them.  He advanced to within a yard of them.  Starlight washed over the two faces turned up to him.  He saw Celuwen's almond-shaped grey eyes, slightly arched nose, wide mouth, the parts that added up to the most expressive face he knew, one that at the moment was alive with disapproval.  Then he shifted his gaze to Alfirin and saw with a little thrill that her hair was loose, tumbling in thick waves all the way to her hips.  He could almost feel the way it would spring back if he squeezed it in his hand.  Alfirin regarded him with wary silence.

"Am I so close to the lembas grain field?" he asked.  He knew he was.  He felt it just beyond them, and he had no intention of going any further.  "I hope I am not disturbing anything.  With the holiday tomorrow and all, I decided to spend the night in the forest.  I had not realized just where my wanderings took me."  He gestured to the grass beside Alfirin.  "May I join you for a few moments before I go?  I promise I will be gone by the time the moon rises."

Celuwen and Alfirin exchanged a look he could not read.  Celuwen opened her mouth as if to speak, but Alfirin put a hand on her arm.

"Sit," Alfirin said.

Celuwen looked at her for a long moment, then sighed and looked away.

Eilian dropped down next to Alfirin.  "The stars are thick tonight."

"Yes," Alfirin said.

"Did the lembas grain harvest go well?"

"Yes."  Alfirin folded her hands in her lap, making it impossible for him to "accidentally" brush his fingers over hers.

Beyond Alfirn, Eilian thought he saw Celuwen give a brief smile.  He felt a twinge of irritation.  Celuwen was his friend.  She was supposed to be helping him.  The least she could do was leave them for a while.  Perhaps she could think of no excuse.  He would have to help her.  He cast around for an idea.  "The vigil will be long.  Celuwen, if you need to retreat to the bushes to do anything personal I will keep Alfirin company."

Both feminine heads swung to look at him.  Then Celuwen sputtered with something that sounded distinctly like a laugh.

Unexpectedly, Alfirin spoke.  "I can manage this myself, Celuwen."

Celuwen hesitated for an instant before rising.  "I will not be far if you need me."  Her eyes met Eilian's.  Then she walked away into the darkness.

Eilian frowned after her, uneasiness creeping up his spine.  For a moment, he was tempted to call her back.  He felt almost as if danger lurked somewhere nearby, but the lembas grain field was well within the Home Guard territory, and when he listened, he heard only Celuwen's light footstep, the rustle of a small animal in the underbrush, and the sleepy night song of the trees.  He deliberately relaxed.  If Gelmir realized how uneasy Eilian was, he would be laughing his head off.

He smiled at Alfirin, his eyes going past her face to the glorious cloud of her hair.  "I have been wanting to talk to you, but Fendîr has been making such a nuisance of himself I have not had a chance."  Tentatively, he reached out and brushed back a strand of her hair.

With a vigor that surprised him, she slapped his hand away.  "Enough of this game, Eilian.  I have tried to be gentle, but you heed only your own wishes.  I am not going to kiss you, not now, not ever.  So since that is what you have come for, you might as well be on your way."

He shook his stinging fingers.  "What?"  Heat flooded his face.  She opened her mouth to speak again, but he interrupted.  "No.  I understand."   He was not sure he did, but he certainly did not want her to repeat the scathing words that had just spilled from her deceptively sweet looking mouth.  He rose.  "I will leave you.  I am sorry I bothered you."  He marched stiffly away, going not toward Gelmir, who Eilian fervently hoped had been struck in the face by a branch and blinded at the crucial moment, but toward the comforting darkness under a stand of pines.

Something light moved toward him out of the blackness.  Instinctively, he grabbed for his belt knife.  "It is only me," Celuwen's voice said.  He relaxed and let out a long, shuddering breath.

She moved into the lighter space between the trees.  "I take it that did not go well."

He gave what he meant to be a laugh.  "No."  He thought about the last few horrible moments, and his eyes narrowed.  "She knew.  She knew I meant to kiss her.  Fendîr must have told her about our wager.  That vile little orc spawn."  He imitated Fendîr's self-satisfied tone. "'You know me, Eilian.  I always play fair.'  The liar!"

Celuwen shifted from foot to foot.  "No, Eilian.  Fendîr did not tell her."

He blinked at her.  "He must have.  How else would she know?"

She met his gaze, her lower lip caught in her teeth.

The truth burst upon him with suddenness of summer lightning.  "You told her."

"I did."

It took all his restraint to keep from grabbing her arms and shoving, wrestling with her as he had when they were children.  "Why?  Why did you do that?"

She sighed.  "You were behaving badly, Eilian, and I could think of no other way to stop you."

"It was none of your affair!"

"It was my affair.  You are my friend, and you are upset, I think, probably by something that happened at training or at home, and when you are upset, you do stupid things.  I hate seeing you get swept away into actions you regret when you come to yourself again."

He turned away from her, clenching and unclenching his hands, drawing deep breaths.  He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and faced her again.  "What am I going to tell Fendîr?"

For a few heartbeats, she stood with starlight washing over her unreadable face, which was tilted up to him.  Then she stretched onto her toes and brushed her lips over his.  Warmth shot through him.  He stopped breathing.

"Tell him a lembas maiden kissed you."

Then she was gone, running lightly toward where he had left Alfirin.

Eilian stared after her.  What had just happened?

"Eilian," Gelmir's voice called softly.

"Over here."

Gelmir emerged from the underbrush.  He grimaced.  "That certainly did not go well.  Sorry."

"What?"

Gelmir scrutinized him.  "Alfirin.  That was painful even to watch."

Eilian made a face.  "I deserved it.  I was being a troll's tail end."

Gelmir rocked back on his heels.  "If you say so."

"I do.  Come.  We need to retrieve our packs and make camp.  We need our sleep because going home will take some precise timing.  We have to get there after the guard changes but before my father realizes we have been out all night."  His mind intent on his plans, Eilian was already walking, and Gelmir fell in beside him.

Gelmir was quiet the whole time they set up camp.  Eilian glanced at him occasionally to find him muttering to himself and frowning, as if trying to work out what he might have missed.  Finally, they spread their blankets over piles of pine boughs and lay down.

"Eilian."

"Yes?"

"One of the things I have always liked about being your friend is that I am seldom bored when I am with you, but sometimes I have a hard time keeping up."

Eilian laughed softly.  "Me too, Gelmir.  Me too."  He thought about his evening.  The scene with Alfirin had been humiliating.  What was worse, Celuwen had been right.  He had been behaving badly.  He should have known the moment he felt the need to hide his actions from his mother.  So why did he feel so inexplicably peaceful, as if something in his tumultuous world had been set right, at least for a while?

He smiled to himself in the dark.  Celuwen had been good to try to help him win his wager.  She was his friend always.  Too bad he would have to hand his swan feathers over to Fendîr anyway.  Still, fair was fair.  The dream path rose to meet him, and he ran lightly along it.

TBC (one more short chapter)

Chapter 3.  Brothers

Eilian paused at the edge of the Green, eyeing the guards before the Great Doors.  He glanced back at Gelmir.  "Good.  They are not the ones who saw us leave last night.  Come."  With Gelmir on his heels, he strolled across the Green, climbed the steps, and nodded to the guards as he passed between them into the antechamber.  Then he led Gelmir into the royal family's quarters.  The door closed softly behind them.

He grinned.  "Almost there," he whispered to Gelmir.

"Naneth?"

Eilian suddenly realized that the door into the sitting room stood open, as it often did when he returned home in the evening to find his parents waiting up for him.  But the voice that had stopped him in his tracks had not been his father's.

As now seemed inevitable given how much Ithilden had watched him over the last few days, Eilian's brother appeared in the doorway, already dressed in an impeccably clean and unwrinkled uniform.  Ithilden stopped as abruptly as Eilian had, sweeping his eyes over their packs and rumpled clothes.  "Are you just coming in?" he asked sharply.

Behind Eilian, Gelmir let out a little moan.

Ithilden ignored him.  "Eilian?"

Eilian sighed.  He should have known things were going entirely too well.  "I am not under your command here, Ithilden.  You can tell Adar and Naneth, or you can leave me alone."  He had no doubt which choice Ithilden would make.  Eilian started down the hall again, on his way to his room.

"Adar is still asleep, and Naneth has not yet returned from the lembas making."  Ithilden moved to block their way.  "Go on, Gelmir.  I want to talk to Eilian."

Gelmir hesitated, then slid around Eilian and squeezed between Ithilden and the wall.  With undignified haste, he disappeared around a turn in the corridor.

Ithilden jerked his head toward the sitting room.  "If we talk in here, we are less likely to disturb Adar."

For a moment, Eilian considered telling his brother just what he could do with his "talk," but Ithilden was perfectly capable of holding him here and conducting the conversation in the hallway.  And when you came down to it, Ithilden was right.  Thranduil would be less likely to hear if they moved into the sitting room.  He dragged his feet into the room and flopped onto a bench.

Ithilden pushed the door most of the way closed but did not latch it.

Eilian raised an eyebrow.  "Are you keeping watch for Naneth?  She will not appreciate it."  He smiled nastily.  Their mother objected forcefully when she thought Ithilden or Thranduil was being overprotective.

Ithilden paced in front of him and ran his hand over his hair, tidy as always in tight braids.  "I was up anyway.  I thought I would just greet her before I left for my office."  At Eilian's snort, Ithilden's mouth tightened.  "Where have you been?"

"Who are you to ask me that?"

"I am not Adar.  Surely that should be good enough for the moment."

Eilian considered.  Ithilden almost sounded as if he could be persuaded not to tell Thranduil about this.  If Eilian cooperated, of course.  "We spent the night camping in the forest."

Ithilden frowned.  "Why?"

Eilian groped for an honest, but not-too-revealing answer.  "I wanted to meet a friend."

"What for?"

Eilian shifted on the bench.  "It does not matter.  We saw one another only briefly anyway.  I might as well have stayed home."

Ithilden cocked his head, then slowly drew in his breath.  "A maiden."

Eilian nodded.

Ithilden looked away, then back.  "Eilian, I do have something I want to talk to you about, but slipping out at night to meet maidens may be a matter for Naneth."

"No!"  Eilian shot to his feet.  "It does not matter, Ithilden, because Alfirin sent me away with a flea in my ear."

"Who?"

Eilian shook his head.  "I was wrong to do it, Ithilden.  I admit it.  Please do not tell Naneth."

Ithilden sighed and sat down on the bench opposite.  "Sit down, Eilian.  I will let it go for the moment, but I need to talk to you about something else."

Slowly, Eilian obeyed.

Ithilden leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs.  "Lómilad approached me a few days ago, Eilian.  It seems the novice masters are concerned about you."

Eilian stiffened.  So he had been right.  Ithilden had been keeping watch on him.  "Why?  I do well enough at training."

"In many ways, you do very well indeed.  I have seen it myself.  You are fearless, skilled with weapons, and a natural leader.  But Lómilad tells me you have trouble with discipline and sometimes with concentration.  Finding you creeping in at dawn like this suggests to me he may be right."

Eilian clenched his fists to keep his hands from trembling.  Ithilden delivered this judgment in a tone as gentle as any Eilian had ever heard him use, and somehow that made it all so much worse.

"Ordinarily," Ithilden went on, "I would say a novice's performance was the masters' concern and I would not interfere. Ordinarily they would probably not even have told me. But Lómilad pointed out that in your case there were expectations that added to the pressures on you, expectations he thought I would understand.  So he asked me to speak to you, not as your commander, but as your brother."

Eilian blinked.  Something in Ithilden's voice triggered a dim memory of himself jumping up and down among a group of elflings on the Green, crying "Me first!  Me first!"

Someone, some matron he did not remember, had laid her hand on his shoulder.  "As the king's son, you should be gracious and wait for the others."

Eilian remembered whirling toward her, his mouth open in astonished outrage.  Then strong arms had grabbed him around the waist and twirled him to hang upside down by his heels.  "You first?" Ithilden's deep voice asked.  "You want to be the first to spend the feast hanging upside down from a tree?  How will the honey cakes get to your stomach?"  The treetops swept dizzily past as Ithilden swung him in slow arcs.

Eilian had shrieked with delighted alarm.  "No, Ithilden!  Put me down!"

Ithilden had tossed him loose, caught him again, and set him on his feet, but he had kept his hands on Eilian's shoulders and held him back a bit from the other elflings, who had watched with their mouths hanging open but now turned to scramble for the honey cakes.  Ithilden had whispered in his ear.  "I have to wait too.  Will you keep me company?"

Eilian had twisted to look at him, crouched by his side.  "I do not like waiting."

Ithilden had kept his face solemn.  "Nor do I, but there will be enough, and we sons of the king are tough enough to wait a bit."  He had risen and held Eilian's hand while they waited.

Now, years later, Eilian wondered wryly if Ithilden had kept a grip on his hand because he did not quite trust Eilian to hold back.  "So what is it you want to say?"

"What I want to do is ask you something.  Do you want to be a warrior?"

Eilian sat up.  "Of course."

"Then you need to keep that goal in mind and let it shape your actions even when other things seem to get in the way."

Eilian turned that over in his mind and grimaced.  "I know.  Only sometimes, when things go badly, I do stupid things."  It occurred to him that he was echoing Celuwen's words.

Ithilden nodded.  "If you know that, then you should be able to manage your own actions better.  Can you do that?"

Eilian considered.  Then he shrugged and grinned.  "I think so.  Why not?"

Ithilden raised an eyebrow.  "You will have to do better than you have been doing."

"All right," Eilian said amiably.

Ithilden ran a hand over his face, then laughed.  "Fair enough."  He rose.

Eilian too came to his feet.  "Are you going to tell Adar and Naneth about me and Gelmir?"

"Do I need to?"  Ithilden cocked an eyebrow at him.

"No.  I told you I knew I was wrong."

"And I can trust you?"

Eilian opened his mouth to give a quick answer, then paused.  The look on Ithilden's face told him the question was serious.  "Yes.  I sometimes do stupid things, but in the long run, Ithilden, you can trust me."

Ithilden nodded.  "Very well then."  His mouth twitched.  "You should probably go and relieve Gelmir's fears."

Eilian laughed and trotted off down the hallway to his room.  Later today, at the feast for the lembas maidens, he would have to tell Celuwen she had been right.  He might even tease her about the kiss.  Or maybe he would not.  Maybe that was something that should stay between them, just for now.

The End





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