I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien, but they are his, not mine. I gain nothing other than the enriched imaginative life I assume he expected me to gain.

Thank you to Nilmandra for beta reading this.

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4.  Ups and Downs

Ithilden prodded Legolas gently.  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Legolas stirred, blinked, and then frowned in confusion at the green trees arching overhead in the misty morning light.  Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and he turned his head to look at Ithilden, who was crouched beside him.  With a whoop, he tossed his blanket aside and hopped to his feet.  Ithilden noted with amusement that his brother had slept with his boots on. “Can we hunt?” Legolas demanded.

Ithilden laughed. “Later.  But now I think we should go after those fish again and see if we can catch our morning meal.”

Legolas reached willingly for the fishing gear he had tossed aside the previous evening, and the two of them made their way to the stream.  Despite the assurances that Ithilden had given Thranduil as to the safety of the area, he had found he was sufficiently worried about being responsible for Legolas’s safety that he had slept only lightly, but still he had awakened this morning more rested than he had been in a long time.  There was something unbelievably soothing about sleeping in the living forest.

“I have something!” Legolas cried, and indeed, a fish was tugging at the end of his line.

“Do you want help?”

“I can do it,” Legolas said determinedly, and as Ithilden watched, he coaxed the fish from the water with a patience that Ithilden would have sworn he did not have.  “Look!” His face glowing with pride, Legolas held up the fish, a good-sized trout.

“Now that is the start of a morning meal worth eating!  I am lucky to have you along,” Ithilden grinned. Legolas laughed.  “Given how much you have been eating lately, I think we need more than one though,” Ithilden said, and Legolas happily secured his fish in the cold water and dropped his line back into the stream.  The luck that had eluded them the night before was with them now, and they had two more fish within a very short time.

“That should be enough,” Ithilden said. “Do you know how to clean them?”

Legolas nodded eagerly, already reaching for the knife at his belt. “Annael’s adar showed us.”

“Good.  You take care of that, and I will see if the fire is ready to cook them.”  Ithilden started back to their campsite, aware of how pleased Legolas looked over being given this responsibility.  This trip really is what he needed, Ithilden thought in satisfaction and could not help being pleased with himself for having agreed to bring Legolas with him.  Their campfire had burned down nicely, so he set out their dishes and had just gathered several green willow sticks when Legolas appeared.

“One of the fish did not come out very well,” he apologized.

“They look good to me.” Ithilden handed a stick to Legolas.  “Thread one of the fish onto the stick,” he said, demonstrating what he meant.  “Hold it with the back down first, so the thickest part cooks. Then do the two sides.”  Legolas watched him and then carefully imitated his actions. “Keep it a little further away from the coals so the skin does not catch fire,” Ithilden instructed, and Legolas did as he was told, sliding his first fish onto a plate when he had finished and threading a second one.

When they had finished cooking, they settled back to enjoy their feast.  “This is the best fish I have ever eaten,” Legolas said around a mouthful of fish.  Still, he obviously had no wish to linger over the meal.  He gobbled his own fish and then watched impatiently while Ithilden finished his.  “Can we hunt now?” he asked as soon as the last forkful was in Ithilden’s mouth.

“As soon as we have cleaned up,” Ithilden said.  “Bring your dishes.”  He carried his own dishes back to the stream, with Legolas following him.  They crouched at the edge of the stream to wash the dishes.  Ithilden was increasingly pleased with Legolas today.  He was doing chores with no complaints, and the sullenness of the day before had vanished as if it had never been. When Ithilden had finished washing his dishes, he splashed water over his face too.  “I thought we would wait to bathe until the day has grown warm,” he told Legolas.  “There is a pond a mile or so south of here that would be a good place to swim.”

Legolas nodded in enthusiastic agreement, and then the two of them carried the dishes back to camp and picked up their bows and their packs.  Ithilden took a moment to write a message to leave for the Home Guard patrol that would check on them and then looked at his little brother. Legolas’s eyes were wide with excitement that at last he was going to have a chance to do as Annael had done and kill a deer. Ithilden understood his desire.  Venison made up a large share of the meat that Thranduil’s people ate, and the ability to provide it was a valued skill.  With a fervent hope that Legolas would succeed in his hunt on this trip, he led his very happy brother into the trees.

Ithilden had camped in this area once before, and his memory had been that deer lived there in some abundance because of the numerous open spaces that provided good grazing.  He moved silently through the trees toward where he thought one of the meadows lay, noting with approval that Legolas was just as silent and appeared to be watching for the same signs of deer that he was.

Suddenly, Ithilden spotted something half buried under fallen leaves.  He touched Legolas lightly on the arm and pointed, and his sharp-eyed little brother saw it immediately:  an antler that had undoubtedly been shed that winter.  Legolas’s eyes widened, and he looked excitedly at Ithilden.  Given that deer were creatures of habit, the buck that had shed the antler probably still lived in the area, and the number of points on the antler told Ithilden that the deer was big.

He motioned that Legolas should follow him and started moving forward again, concentrating on scanning for prints that would show him the path that the deer was taking now, as it moved from where it fed to wherever it usually spent the night.  Suddenly, terrifyingly, he became aware that Legolas was no longer behind him.  He whirled, his heart pounding and his breath quickening. “Legolas!” he shouted.  “Legolas! Where are you?”

No answer came.

“Legolas!”  Almost dizzy with fear, he started to trot back the way he had come, looking frantically for any sign of his little brother.

Leaves rustled overhead, and Legolas dropped to the ground in front of him, looking outraged.  “You are making so much noise that the deer has probably run halfway to the mountains!” he exclaimed.

Ithilden had nocked an arrow and now had to tighten his hand on his bow to keep from grabbing Legolas and shaking him.  “Where were you?” he demanded. “Why did you not answer me?”  His voice trembled still from the panic he had felt.

“I climbed into the trees so I could get a better look around. And I was being quiet so the deer would not hear us and flee.  But you were so loud that we will never find him now,” he said scornfully.

“You are not to wander away from me like that again!” Ithilden said sharply.  “Do you hear me?”

Legolas rolled his eyes.  “Everyone hears you.”

Ithilden forced himself to draw a deep breath and then another.  “We will continue looking for tracks or other signs that deer have been this way,” he said, “but you must stay with me.”

“Why can we not use the trees?” Legolas demanded.

“Because you cannot see the tracks or other small signs from the trees.  And you have to be very lucky to see the deer himself if you have not already learned the way the deer is likely to take.  Did Adar let you scout from the trees when you went hunting with him?”

“No,” Legolas admitted.

“And you will not do it with me either.  You will do as I say and stay by me.  We will use the trees once we know where deer will be passing.”

“You do not have to keep on about it!” Legolas exclaimed. “I understood what you said. I will stay.”

Ithilden decided to ignore the rudeness and studied Legolas’s face for a moment before he nodded, satisfied that Legolas meant what he said.  He turned and once again began seeking signs of deer, but he had to make a deliberate effort to slow his heart and breath to a normal speed.  At least Legolas knows how to move silently, he thought wryly.  He certainly slipped away from me easily enough. Adar is right. I will need to be more careful.

They continued to scout for deer, and Legolas was true to his word, keeping within a few yards of Ithilden, who gradually relaxed. They saw several trails that looked as if deer had used them, but the day had now grown so warm that the animals were almost certainly napping in shady spots somewhere.

Ithilden looked at Legolas’s damp, flushed face.  “What do you think?  Shall we take a break and swim for a while and then eat some of the food we brought with us?”  They were not far from the pond where he had planned that they would swim.

“Yes, please,” Legolas sounded relieved.  He had probably not wanted to admit he was getting tired, Ithilden thought, and softened at the idea that his brother had been quiet about his discomfort.  “This way,” he said and led Legolas a little to the south.  They emerged from the trees on the edge of a good sized, spring-fed pond.

Legolas gave a single whoop, dropped his bow, shed his pack, and began stripping off his clothes.  He was in the water before Ithilden had gotten his tunic off, but Ithilden soon waded after him, reveling in the chilly water.  He dove and then swam under water, emerging just behind Legolas to send a great splash over his head.  Legolas cried out and then laughed and turned to come after him as he swam backward across the pond.

“You will pay for that!” Legolas cried.  “You are going under!”

“Just try it,” Ithilden challenged.  “I look forward to teaching you how to swim upside down.”  For a while, they wrestled and swam and floated, and then they climbed out to lie on the grassy bank and let the sun dry them.

Ithilden glanced at the thin form lying next to him, marked with barely perceptible signs that his little brother was beginning to leave childhood, and he felt a sudden, almost painful surge of protectiveness together with a stab of despair at his inability to control so much of what was happening to the Woodland Realm.  I am going to have to let him be a warrior, just as I did Eilian, Ithilden thought unhappily, but not yet.  For now, I am going to keep him safe whether he likes it or not.

He stood up, drew his leggings on, and walked barefoot to where his pack lay.  “Shall we eat?”  Legolas sprang up too, still unselfconsciously naked, and Ithilden handed him some of the bread, cheese, and fruit they had brought from home.  They sat at the pond’s edge, dangling their feet in the water, not feeling the need to talk to one another as they both listened to the forest around them.

Finally, Ithilden stood again.  “Get dressed and we will go back to camp and rest for a while,” he said.  “I should be there to meet the Home Guard patrol when it comes by again, and then, after evening meal, if you like, we can come back for an hour or so and take up posts in a tree near one of the deer tracks we have seen.”

“Yes!” Legolas exclaimed, jumping up.

“We will be back in camp by dark,” Ithilden warned, but Legolas ignored him in his delight at the idea of hunting the evening dusk.  Ithilden could only hope his brother had heard him.  Not that it mattered.  He had decided they would be back in camp by nightfall and they would be.

He pulled on the rest of his clothes and then sat to put on his boots, adjusting the dagger he carried in a built in sheath in the right one so that the handle would not rub against his ankle.  Suddenly, he realized that Legolas too was fiddling with something in his right boot.

“Are you carrying a dagger?” he demanded in astonishment.

Legolas jumped, hesitated, and then reluctantly said, “Yes.”

“Legolas, you are too young for that!  Give it to me.”  Ithilden held out his hand, but Legolas backed away.

“Everyone carries a dagger,” he asserted.  “And you know I carry a knife. You gave it to me!  What is the difference?”

“The difference is that you carry a knife openly so that everyone knows you have it and also that a knife has many uses besides self-defense, which I sadly acknowledge that you need.  But no one knows you are carrying that dagger, and it has no conceivable purpose except to throw at someone.  And do not tell me that everyone carries one!  Children your age most assuredly do not carry hidden daggers.”

“I am not a child!  And Turgon carries a dagger!”

“Turgon is a problem waiting to happen!  If I were Adar, I would make sure you never went near Turgon again.  Now give me the dagger.”  Ithilden held out his hand again and took a determined step toward Legolas.

For a terrible moment, he thought his little brother was going to refuse and he was going to have to take the dagger from him by force.  But then, with a cry of frustration, Legolas pulled the dagger from his boot and flung it to the ground at Ithilden’s feet.  Without a word, Ithilden scooped it up and stuck it in his belt.  “Come,” he said grimly. He picked up his pack and then started back to camp, listening to be sure that Legolas was following.

They made the trek back to their campsite without exchanging a word, and when they got there, Legolas dropped his pack and bow, made for the nearest tree, and scrambled up and out of sight.  Ithilden had to admit, if only to himself, that he was relieved to be rid of his brother’s presence for a while.  Legolas would be safe enough in the tree.  In the meantime, Ithilden could use some time to himself.  He hoisted himself into a low branch of an oak tree and then leaned back against the trunk, trying to recapture some of the serenity he had felt earlier.  He could not believe how maddening Legolas was.  Why had none of the weapons masters ever told him that Legolas was so undisciplined?  None of them had ever had anything but praise for his little brother.  What could they have been thinking?

Gradually, his mood eased, and he slid into a light sleep. He was awakened by the sound of horses nearby and jumped to the ground to greet two Home Guard warriors.  “Mae govannen, my lord,” one of them greeted him.  “How are things with you?”

“Well enough,” he said. “Do you have messages for me?”

“Yes,” the warrior replied with a grin. “Deler said I was to tell you that you should enjoy yourself because the Realm will not go to pieces if you are away for few days.”

Ithilden laughed.  “Tell Deler I appreciate the thought, but he knows where to find me when he needs me.”

The warriors saluted and went on their way, and Ithilden turned back to the campsite.  The first thing he did was check on Legolas, but the tree up which his brother had climbed was humming with his presence, and Ithilden went on to other tasks.  He built up the fire and then took a fishing line to the stream, where he caught enough fish for their evening meal.  Then he gathered some wild mushrooms he had spotted earlier and poked around in the sunnier spots until he found blackberries.  Legolas liked the berries, and Ithilden intended them as a peace offering.  He had no doubt that Legolas had been deeply offended by having his dagger confiscated, but taking it had still been the right thing to do.

When he returned to the campsite, he found that Legolas had climbed down from his tree and was sitting against its trunk, with his face unreadable.  Ithilden showed him his haul, and Legolas eyed the food coolly.  “Come and help me cook,” Ithilden invited, and Legolas got slowly to his feet and followed Ithilden to the fire.  Ithilden got out a pan and began frying the fish and the mushrooms.  “You keep an eye on them while I get us some cold water,” he said and walked off to the stream again.  He was determined to be cheerful, believing that Legolas would eventually come around.

They ate in silence, but Legolas did seem to enjoy the berries, which Ithilden supposed was a small victory.  When they had cleaned up, he picked up his bow and his pack.  “Which trail do you want to watch?” he asked.

Legolas brightened a little at being offered this choice. “The second one we found,” he said, after some consideration. “It looked the most recent.”  Ithilden nodded, and they set off.  Now that they had reason to expect one or more deer might pass along the trail they had found, it was indeed time to lie in wait in a tree where the deer were less likely to spot them, and he and Legolas were soon settled about fifteen feet from the ground in a beech tree.

They did not have long to wait.  Ithilden suddenly spotted a flicker of movement followed closely by the appearance of a medium-sized buck coming toward them. Ithilden held his shot, both because he knew that it would be easier to take the deer down if he waited until the deer was walking away from him and because he wanted Legolas to be the one to kill the deer if he could.  Indeed he had no real desire to kill a deer at all. Getting it home would be a bother.

On a branch a short distance away from him, Legolas had come to attention.  Even from where Ithilden stood, he could see that his brother’s breath was quickening, but to his credit, he held his shot too.  The deer passed beneath them, and Legolas took careful aim and then loosed his arrow.  It flew straight toward its target and then, shockingly, it all at once bent aside, deflected by a small branch that Legolas had undoubtedly not seen while concentrating so wholly on the deer.

Legolas gave a small gasp, and before Ithilden could stop him, he jumped forward, reaching for a tree that was nearby but not near enough.  He missed his footing, making Ithilden cry out, but at the last minute, he grabbed for an overhanging branch and, after dangling for a few seconds, he swung himself to safety on a branch and then slipped to the ground. Ithilden was after him instantly.

“The deer is gone,” Legolas cried in frustration.

“What kind of a move was that?” Ithilden demanded, his fear now turning to anger.  “Surely you could see that the distance was too far to jump.  You could have fallen. What if you had broken your leg?  No deer is worth that.”

“Stop scolding me!  I did not miss my footing on purpose.”

“You took a stupid chance!  And what is wrong with your hand?”  Ithilden could see that Legolas was cradling one hand in the other.

“Nothing! I scraped it when I grabbed the branch.”

“Let me see.”  Ithilden seized the hurt hand and looked at the palm.  It was lightly scraped and oozing a little blood.  “You are lucky that was all that happened,” he declared.  “We will clean it when we get back to camp, but let me put something over it now so you do not get blood on your clothes.”

With his eyes still on Legolas hand, he reached into his pack for his healing kit.  Suddenly, something moved beneath his fingers.  With a yelp, he jerked his hand out of his pack.  Then, with his heart racing, he cautiously pulled it open and looked inside.  A harmless grass snake lay writhing on top of his extra tunic, flicking its tongue at him.

Next to him, Legolas let out a snort of laughter, and Ithilden abruptly realized exactly how the snake had gotten into his pack.  And all at once, all of the day’s frustrations bubbled up.  Before he had time to think, he seized Legolas’s arm, turned him sideways, and delivered a hard slap to his backside.

Legolas jerked his arm away and spun to face Ithilden, with one hand reaching involuntarily behind him.  Astonishment and then fury flooded his face.  “You hit me!” he accused.

“You deserved it!  You have behaved impossibly all day.”

Legolas’s mouth dropped open, and he flushed deeply. “I have not. You have been the impossible one.”  He was blinking rapidly, and he seemed to be close to tears, but Ithilden suspected they were tears of fury and humiliation rather than a response to the slap.  They certainly were not tears of regret over his behavior.  Abruptly, Legolas whirled and started marching away.

“Where are you going?” Ithilden demanded, tossing the snake from his pack before starting after his brother.

“To camp.  I do not want to hunt with you any more.”

“Good.  Maybe a night’s sleep will help you mend your manners.”

“Shut up!” Legolas cried.

“Watch your mouth!” Ithilden snapped and grimly followed Legolas.  A night’s sleep had better mend Legolas’s manners.  If it did not, they would start for home immediately in the morning.