Far Horizons 7:  Fishing

Thranduil sat beneath the tree, relishing the dappled shade and the warm breeze as he watched his daughter-in-law play on the grass with his daerelflings.  Moments like these, he felt, were fleeting, but they almost made up for all the bad times. He concentrated on the episode, ensuring that every nuance was absorbed into vivid memory so that he could take it out at will and savour it.

A ray of light caught Eleniel’s face and made her pale hair gleam as she looked up and saw him watching her. ‘Daerada!’ she called and ran over to him, jumping on him, her little feet digging into his leg.

‘Oof, you are growing, little one,’ he told her, his hands grasping her slight body affectionately and lifting her over his head as he admired the round softness of her baby face. ‘Soon you will be too big for me to do this.’

She stretched down and took his braids in her hands. ‘Gee up,’ she told him. ‘Be my horse, Daerada.’

He was about to lower her, when another small body clambered up him and stood on his lap, twining warm arms around his neck.  ‘Me, Daerada, me too,’ Galenthil begged.

‘Which one shall I remove, Adar?’ Elerrina asked.  ‘Wait, Galenthil.  You can have your turn in a minute.’

‘Leave them, my daughter,’ Thranduil requested.  ‘I would keep them both.’  He hesitated as the two small elflings contested for space before settling and playing with the contents of his pockets. ‘Hold them all you can, child,’ he told their naneth gruffly.  ‘They are small for so short a time and leave your arms empty for an eternity.’

Elerrina promptly slipped an arm round him and kissed his cheek.  ‘Not always,’ she said.  ‘Eleniel will always have space in her heart for her daeradar’s hug – it is one of the advantages of having ellyth.’

‘Flirting with my wife?’  Legolas approached from behind the tree and Galenthil immediately abandoned his daeradar to demand that he be lifted up.  His adar obliged, blowing raspberries on the ellon’s exposed midriff until his son was dissolved in giggles.  Eleniel snuggled up to Thranduil and put her thumb in her mouth, twining one of his long braids round her fingers and watching her brother.

‘If you will abandon her to play with your friends, my son, I believe I am obliged to give my daughter the attention she is missing,’ Thranduil informed him. 

‘Play!’ Legolas shook his head.  ‘I would not call it that.’  He lowered himself gracefully to the grass, his son in his lap.  ‘It is remarkably difficult not to cause enormous offence to those who appear to be unable to hit the target with a single one of their arrows.  They seem to think that I am showing off.  Elrohir suggested I should change hands to handicap myself a little – but the difference was negligible.  Elladan seems to be getting on a little better – at least he has trained in a fighting style they recognise and therefore accept.’

‘Have you found anything useful?’

Legolas shrugged.  ‘The names given us by Lady Galadriel and Lady Celebrian made it easy to identify those they saw – and there are others.  We note their friends and acquaintances and then track down those whom they meet.  Elrohir is keeping records in some kind of strange network, with all sorts of different colours and layers.  I do not entirely understand it, but he says that it is proving interesting.  You might find it worth discussing with him.’  

‘Elrohir is very clever,’ Elerrina said meditatively.  ‘He looks so like Elladan that it takes a while to realise how differently his mind works.’ 

‘I will tell Elladan that you said he was stupid,’ her husband teased.  ‘I would not want to be you when Miriwen hears of it!’

‘I would be rude, except that it would be a bad example for the elflings,’ she replied with offended dignity.  ‘Adar,’ she turned to Thranduil, ‘I have had a thought that might be helpful, but I am not sure how you will take it.’

‘If you do not enquire, I will not be able to say,’ he said amiably.  ‘Try me.’

‘I want to invite my brother and his wife to stay for a month or two,’ she told him quickly.  ‘I know that Legolas will not be enthusiastic, but I believe it could be helpful.  I know Camentur is not involved in this unrest, but he has a lot of contacts among those who might be.  Nisimalote is sweet – and she knows everybody.’

‘I do not mind your brother,’ Legolas protested.  ‘He is quite sensible.  Nisimalote looks down her nose at me, but she likes the elflings, so she is not all bad.’

‘I hear a lot of ‘for a Noldor’ underlying what you say,’ his wife sighed.

Thranduil laughed. ‘Invite them, by all means,’ he said.  ‘All aid will be welcomed – even from those who are Noldor,’ he added, patting her cheek.  ‘After all, they cannot help it.’

***

The large room was people with elves in shimmering silks and embroidered brocades, most with dark hair twined to emphasise their long pale necks and the graceful carriage of their heads.  They still, however, Elerrina thought, managed to sound like parrots jabbering away in the trees.  She glanced around to check that her guests were adequately provided with the wine that Thranduil had told her would loosen even the best controlled tongue and to see that her forces were deployed among them.  Lady Galadriel was inclining her head courteously to listen to Artamir’s wife, which must be painful, Elerrina acknowledged, as Minyariel was the most self-important elf she had ever met.  Celebrian was sitting with a group, her silver hair standing out among the dark and she, at least, seemed to be enjoying herself.  Miriwen was laughing with one of the younger ellyth.  Elerrina tried to place her, but could not think quite who she was. She took a moment to track down Sirithiel, but discovered her standing quietly among the tall ferns watching the proceedings.  Nisimalote, however, was the star, Elerrina noted.  She had spoken to everybody, renewed her acquaintance with many, tracked down distant cousinship with others and discovered points of connection through marriages, friendships or business dealings with any still left unattached.

Elerrina circulated, putting into use the centuries of her naneth’s training.  If Nisi could do it, she thought, so could she, making a point of noting every jarring response or evasion.  Sirithiel touched her arm briefly as she stood in light conversation with a group whose main interest appeared to be fashion, and Elerrina excused herself.

‘I am so sorry, Elerrina,’ Sirithiel said softly, aware that elven ears were as interested in her words as she was in theirs.  ‘I would not have disturbed you, but Galenthil is very distressed, and I am afraid that we cannot make him settle.  If you could come for a few moments.’

‘What is the matter with him?’ Elerrina asked anxiously, leaving the room and closing the door on the chattering.

‘Nothing, really,’ Sirithiel murmured, ‘but I needed to talk to you.  Come to the nursery.’

As they approached the door, Elerrina could hear the sound of quiet sobs, but they did not appear to be the sounds of an elfling. When distressed, she found, Galenthil tended to get louder and louder until his screams were deafening.  Eleniel would cry for longer, but generally fell asleep before reaching this pitch of dull misery.

‘Thranduil has taken the little ones out,’ Sirithiel said quietly.  ‘This seemed the safest place of Nessariel – where there would be the least likelihood of listening ears.’

Elerrina looked swiftly at her friend, who shook her head.  ‘What is the matter, Nessa?’she asked gently, moving to sit down next to her distant cousin.  ‘You can tell me all about it.’ 

The elleth put her hands over her face as it to cut herself off from the world and came out with a sound that tangled itself in her sobs so that it was completely meaningless.

‘I will rejoin the party,’ Sirithiel suggested, her soft mist-grey eyes resting thoughtfully on the dark head.  ‘Nessa will be more likely to talk to you if I am not here.’

‘Let Nisi know I am going to be a while, would you Sirithiel,’ Elerrina asked. ‘She will be more than capable of keeping an eye on things and deflecting any attention.’

Elerrina sat still, stroking her cousin’s back, altering it occasionally to gentle patting, much as she would have soothed either of her babies, crooning so quietly that the noise was barely audible.  Nessariel continued to cry, but her sobs eased until they were little more than shudders, shaking her slight frame. 

‘What is it, cousin?’ Elerrina’s voice was encouraging.  ‘Tell me.  Even if there is nothing I can do, you will feel better for letting out your worries.’

‘Minyariel,’ Nessa sniffed. ‘She was just so horrible, Elerrina.  She has never liked me.  She told me to take my claws out of Tarannon – that she had a much better match in mind for him than me. Someone whose family was prepared to commit themselves, she said.  She said I was nothing and she was not about to let her son marry beneath him.’

Elerrina digested the words.  ‘Do you really want to marry Tarannon?’ she asked carefully.  ‘I would not have thought he was exactly your type.’

Nessariel gave a watery attempt at a smile.  ‘He has been around for a while, but actually,’ she sighed, ‘I do not know where she got the idea that we wanted to be betrothed – he is a good dancer, and he is nice-looking, but I cannot say that I would miss him much.  He has always been rather more interested in me than I am in him, if the truth were told.  But she was so – vindictive.  She frightened me.  She was smiling all the time she spoke, but her voice was like broken glass slashing at me – and then she just nodded as if we had been talking about the weather and went off to talk to Lady Galadriel.’

Elerrina looked at her thoughtfully.  ‘When did he start showing an interest in you, Nessa?’ she asked.

Her cousin shrugged.  ‘At your wedding.  I had known him before that, but that was the first time he asked me to dance.’

Elerrina continued to murmur soothing words, holding the shaking figure until she relaxed in her arms as the storm passed.   ‘Why do you not go away for a long visit somewhere else, Nessa?  Then you will be able to have fun without that evil witch watching you.’

‘My face must be a mess,’ Nessariel said regretfully.  ‘I will think about it, Elerrina. Do you mind if I stay here until everyone has gone?  I do not want anyone to see me like this.’

***

‘Good shot,’ Legolas told his brother-in-law approvingly.

Camentur shook his head.  ‘I cannot compete with you.’

‘That is true enough, I suppose,’ Elrohir said.  ‘But then few of us can.’  He aimed carefully, but his last arrow missed the bull’s-eye. ‘I am considered a fair shot, but Legolas has an unfair advantage.’

‘In what way is anything unfair?’ his friend protested.

‘You are just too good,’ Elrohir explained.

The visitor laughed. ‘That is clearly unfair,’ he agreed.  ‘Cheating, almost.’

‘I am glad you agree,’ Elrohir grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.  ‘Notice that you do not often see Legolas practising his blade skills.  He prefers to show off with his bow.’

A group of blue-clad elves pushed past, intent on claiming the space they were using. They were talking at the tops of their voices, clearly hoping that they would cause offence with remarks obscure enough to be ignored, but clear enough to be offensive.

‘Wait,’ Camentur instructed them.  ‘We will retrieve our arrows before you begin.’  He looked the others up and down, ‘Calion,’ he said, inclining his head. ‘How is your adar?’

Brought up short, the younger elf flushed slightly and nodded.  ‘Well, I thank you,’ he replied.  ‘Convey my good wishes to your parents.’  Elrohir watched with interest as Camentur made the other squirm, before releasing him to catch up with his friends.

While they were talking, Legolas went to tug his arrows from the target, before moving over to pull out those belonging to Camentur and Elrohir.  As he grasped the final shaft, he jumped to hear the sound of an arrow in flight, turning swiftly too late to avoid the missile entirely.

‘Legolas!’ Elrohir cried, racing towards his friend, as he stood pinned to the target, blood pouring from his arm.

‘It is a good thing he is such a poor archer,’ he said, surprisingly calmly, looking back at the dark-haired figure in his brother-in-law’s grip, ‘or I would be dead.’

‘Alternatively,’ the twin remarked conversationally, as he worked to cut the bolt free from the target, ‘he is a very good shot and meant to get your arm.’

‘Not him,’ Legolas sounded rather disgusted. ‘I suspect he did not even mean to fire.’

‘Sit down,’ Elrohir commanded him.  He turned to one of the elves who had run to help.  ‘Hold him here, if you will,’ he said.  ‘The head has gone right through, so I must cut the shaft to remove it with least damage.  Press to reduce the bleeding.’  He drew out his belt knife.

‘Are you sure you know what you are doing?’ the elf sounded rather queasy.

‘Please!’ Legolas sounded pained. ‘Elrohir has done this sort of thing many times.  Just be grateful that the arrow has not caught the bone.  That is nasty to watch.’

‘And nastier to suffer.’  Elrohir looked at him.  ‘Are you all right, my friend?’

‘Patch me up and take me to Elrond, will you, Elrohir. Please?’

‘You do not want Elerrina to see this?’ 

‘She is not accustomed to arrow wounds, my friend.  I would prefer it to be treated and neatly bandaged before she learns what has happened.’

Camentur crouched down beside them. ‘Can I do anything, my brother?’

‘Wait,’ Elrohir insisted.  He worked swiftly, removing the shaft and slicing the clothing away before bandaging the injury to slow the bleeding.  ‘We will take him to a better place before we close the wound,’ he said.

Legolas grasped his brother-in-law’s sleeve with his uninjured hand.  ‘What have you done with him?’ he asked.

‘This will need to go to the highest authorities,’ he said soberly.  ‘Even if it was an accident, it was one that should not have happened.  And if it was no accident, it came close to kinslaying.  I have sent him to his father to await the king’s judgement.’ 

Elrohir closed his eyes, unconvinced that Camentur’s action would lead to a satisfactory outcome.  ‘Will he not run?’ he said carefully. ‘It seems unrealistic to expect him to stay around without any restraint.’

‘Do you think so?’ Camentur considered.  ‘It is not usually necessary to confine wrongdoers in these lands.  Escape would not be honourable.’

Who shot Legolas?’ Elrohir asked simply, sighing at the naivety.

‘Did you not see?’ Camentur sounded surprised.  ‘He said he did not do it, but the one with the bow was Calion.  Artamir’s son.’

***

Thranduil closed the door quietly, but there was nothing quiet about the eyes that met Elrond’s.  ‘He could have been killed,’ he raged, his voice tight with fury.  ‘This is Valinor,’ he went on.  ‘Things like this are not supposed to happen.’

Elrond absorbed the anger, letting Thranduil relieve his anxiety.  ‘The wound is not serious,’ he said finally.  ‘He has endured many worse.’

‘He has not had an elf shoot at him before.’  The words froze them, until Thranduil walked over to a decanter and poured two glasses of rich red wine.  ‘It is not Dorwinion,’ he said, ‘but it is not bad.’

Elrond accepted the glass, swirling the dark wine round the bowl of the glass. ‘Galadriel said that she believes that this opposition is being managed.  Do you think Artamir has enough of a brain to be behind it?’

Thranduil sat wearily by the fire that brightened the dark room.  ‘No,’ he said.  ‘Elerrina has some suspicions of his wife, but I do not believe she has the intelligence, either.  And I still do not see what they expect to gain.’

The flames flickered, casting changing shadows across the library.  ‘I did not believe that arriving here would immerse me in the least savoury kind of politics,’ Thranduil said. ‘Nor yet that elves would take to tackling their political problems with the most stupid tactics of men.’

‘Elrohir is of the opinion that Artamir and his family are being set up as scapegoats for whatever trouble is intended,’ Elrond mused.  ‘He says that he feels the scheme is likely to work because Artamir believes that he is in control, so that, should it collapse around him, he will expect to receive the blame.’

‘Has he worked out who is pulling the strings?’

Elrond smiled.  ‘How odd – that is exactly the expression Galadriel used.  No, I believe he said that he is closing down on the most likely candidates.  He has had Legolas and Elladan performing various tasks for him that he says are illuminating and he wishes to speak to Elerrina about something that Sirithiel told him.’

Closing his eyes, Thranduil leaned his fair head back against the chair.  ‘I cannot wait to get away, Elrond,’ he said seriously.  ‘I am coming to think that is does not really matter whether Glorfindel has time to explore fully.  All we need is somewhere to start.  The longer we remain here, the greater the chance of something irrevocable going wrong.  I want to take my family and remove them to the safety of the forest as soon as possible.’

‘It will not be long, my friend,’ Elrond replied.  ‘We are making progress.’