See Ch. 1 for disclaimer.

Ch. 2 Keeping Watch

Without moving his head, Feren turned his gaze toward the tree where Legolas had taken station for his watch. The night was quiet and the trees spoke of no impending disturbance. His young brother would be in no danger and he should take his rest before it was time for his watch. There was logic in this thought but his mind was not functioning with logic at the moment. It was not going to let him seek rest until Legolas' watch ended.

It had been difficult to give in to Legolas' demand that he be assigned a watch for this night. It was not that Feren doubted his brother's ability to alert them of any danger that may arise. He was even quite certain that Legolas was more than capable of dispelling such danger, with little or no aid from his brothers. Feren made a point of having Legolas' training masters keeping him well informed of the youngling's progress. Time and time again he had been told that his young brother possessed a natural skill and ease with all manners of weaponry that even well seasoned warriors could not hope to best. Given time, and experience, there was no doubt that Legolas would become a formidable warrior in his own right. And Mirkwood was certainly in need of such skilled warriors.

Inwardly, Feren sighed. Had it been another warrior-in-training with such promising skills, he would, as the commander of the King's forces, have been waiting impatiently for him to join the ranks of warriors. And yet with Legolas, Feren could not help but feel a sense of impending dread for the day that Legolas would be under his command. Deep down, he knew well the reason for such dread, for he had been down this path before.

What he had said to his brothers earlier in the evening was true. Laughter did not come easily when so many lives depended on his decisions. His decisions. Warriors lived or died because of what he decided. Over the years, he had done his best not to dwell on this burdensome thought and for the most part, he was successful. As with all conflicts, it was inevitable that lives were lost and it was his sole responsibility to keep those losses to a minimal. Not even the most stoic, however, could maintain a cold immunity to such losses without feeling the pain at times. And for elves, whose memories spanned millennia, the faces of the dead were never completely forgotten.

The fear for Tavaro when his younger brother first came under his command had all but decapitated his ability to command. The mere thought that he could the one to send his brother to his death had nearly made him plead with his adar to relieve him of the duty. In the end, he had continued with that duty. Difficult as it was that he held the power of life and death over his own brother, it would be worse if someone else other than himself held that power. Fortune had been on his side though, for Tavaro was a formidable warrior, but not recklessly so as to cause undue worry for his commander. Though the fear for Tavaro's continued wellbeing was never completely gone, Feren had at least been able to attain a certain comfort level with it over the long years. And now he would be forced to experience that same soul-crushing fear yet again as Legolas, with his unwavering determination, followed the very path set by the brother before him. Ai! He did not know whether he had the ability or the courage to face such fear again, nor was he certain that he could ever reach any level of comfort in sending his youngest brother into the face of danger.

His decisions. He swallowed a bitter sigh. Sometimes, it was very lonely at the top.

He felt Aldeon shift slightly in the bedroll beside him. Neither Aldeon nor Tavaro were asleep, though they both pretended to be, Feren thought with a small smile. No doubt they too were keeping watch on their youngest brother, as he himself was doing. His gaze strayed to the tree again. Not for the first time, he was seized with the irrational desire to keep his youngest brother forever an elfling, safe and secure behind their adar's sturdy walls.

xxxx

Aldeon felt his eyes drawn to the tree from which Legolas was keeping watch over the older siblings. A smile came unbidden to his lips as pride spread through his heart like a warm, soothing balm. His little brother had just taken another step in the long road to adulthood. With the gentle sweep of pride came the flash of memory of a small elfling keeping watch over a scattering of wooden warriors that had been lovingly carved and painted by Aldeon himself. And now that same elfling, who had matured into a would be warrior, was keeping watch again, only the objects of his watch this time were animate and real and not playthings that came alive only with a child's imagination.

Feren had not been pleased to have Legolas take on a watch this night. Aldeon knew that well enough and felt a tinge of guilt for overriding his brother's sentiment in that regard. Feren's sense of discipline was extremely strong and having an inexperienced youngling keeping night watch assaulted that very sense of discipline. The fact that the youngling was his little brother, whom Feren saw as someone requiring adult protection still, could only add to the unease that had accompanied his reluctant acceptance of the night watch arrangement.

Aldeon did not fault Feren for his at times near obsessive adherence to discipline. Such a disposition was an imperative and vital attribute to one charged with the command of the King's forces. But on this occasion and among brothers, Aldeon felt the need to leave behind the rigidity and demands of a warrior's life. Both Feren and Tavaro were well deserving of such respite, however inconsequential and temporary it may be. And it had made Legolas happy.

Again, Aldeon smiled. This was not the first time that he had intervened on Legolas' behalf, nor would it be the last. He loved all his brothers dearly, but Legolas had, from the day that he was born, ensnared his heart in a way that his other two brothers had not done. There were very few things that he could deny Legolas and even those he refused only because they would, in all likelihood, result in some physical harm to his brother or send their father into helpless despair, or both. Even Thranduil had admonished him from time to time for his inability to say no to some of Legolas' loftier demands. And the King was known to all to dote on his youngest son.

For many years now, Aldeon had looked forward to the day that Legolas could join him and his other two brothers on their annual hunting trip. Even on this occasion, Thranduil had been hesitant in allowing Legolas to take part in this year's hunt. It had taken more than one evening of gentle persuasion on Aldeon's part before their father had finally given his reluctant assent.

Because of the deepening Shadow, his young brother had seen little of the Woodland Realm. Aldeon wanted his brother to see for himself the beauty that still existed among the trees, to experience the tranquility of those parts of their Woodland Realm that so far had escaped the darkening evil. He wanted his brother to see that there was hope yet for Mirkwood and to keep this hope within his heart even in the face of darkest despair.

Watch the night, little one, and take strength from the beauty and light that surround you.

xxxxx

Tavaro watched the magnificent oak tree through half-opened eyes and his lips lifted in a small smile. The bratling was doing well in blending in with the branches, but then Legolas had always been good in making himself obscure if he so wished. Of this Tavaro had no doubt, for he had taught Legolas himself the art of hiding. Many long afternoons had been spent with the elfling, dashing up and down the corridors of the King's palace in the game of hide-and-seek. And to this day, Tavaro still could not determine who had enjoyed those afternoons more, the elfling or the young warrior on leave, as they then were. Soon enough though, his little brother would be caught up in another game of hide-and-seek, only the opponents this time would be the fell creatures of the Shadow and mistakes would be paid in death.

Elves were immortal, but the concept of death was not foreign to the Woodland elves as they struggled against the ever advancing tide of the Shadow that blighted their once beautiful realm. Tavaro had now and then given a passing thought to the possibility of death. Indeed, one would be foolish to ignore it altogether, he thought, but it was not something that he dwelled on with any constancy. But could he maintain such a cavalier attitude to death if it was his little brother that was facing the threat? It was something that he was in no hurry to find out, if at all.

Emotional sentiments set aside, he thought Legolas would make an exceptional warrior, that is, if his little brother could learn to contain the impulsiveness that bordered on recklessness.

With an inward shudder, his thoughts strayed to the incident earlier in the day. They had been brought to a stop before a deep gully, the resulting aftermath when a section of the slope had slipped away. The gully was not inordinately wide but Tavaro had decided that it would be prudent to seek a path around it rather than over it, though he discovered belatedly that his young brother obviously thought otherwise. At the time, he had been alone with Legolas; his other brothers, travelling at a more leisurely pace, had fallen behind. Even before he could give voice to his suggestion, Legolas had steered Hwesta a few prancing paces back, and suddenly both rider and horse had sailed over the gully in a single leap. For a heart-stopping second, Hwesta's back hooves had slipped fractionally on the unstable earth and Tavaro had instinctively braced himself for the worst. But his brother had somehow steadied his faithful mount and the two had managed to scramble onto sturdier grounds. With the confidence and nonchalance of the very young or the very foolish, Legolas had turned back to face the dumbstruck Tavaro with a triumphant grin, looking for all the world as if he had just stepped over some inconsequential rut in the ground.

"That was pure reckless stupidity, Legolas!" Tavaro had thundered once he had found his voice.

"But I made it across. No harm has been done," the bratling had responded cheerfully.

"You both could have broken your foolish necks. Even if you did not, Hwesta should have known better." Shaken still by his brother's wanton behaviour, he had been ready to expend his wrath on all present and that included Legolas' horse.

The bratling's smile was angelic. "Hwesta is my faithful friend. He knows well what I want."

"Both you and that horse of yours deserve time in Adar's dungeon for such ill-conceived stupidity." For once, his brother's guileless smile had lost its charm on him.

"You will not tell Adar, will you?" Legolas had looked worried.

The sudden fear in his brother's voice did manage to sooth his anger, a little. "We will see how you behave the balance of this trip. I am certainly not in a mood right now to make promises."

Even thinking about it now, Tavaro was torn between a shudder and a smile. How ironic it was that he should now fret over his young brother's reckless nature, a trait that he himself had been accused of often enough in his more youthful days. Thranduil certainly had chastised him on countless occasions on the inappropriateness of some of his behaviour as he was growing up. It was curious though how the King had suddenly deemed him to be a responsible son just as Legolas was emerging as an adolescent. If nothing else, the bratling and his antics had inadvertently transformed Tavaro into a model son in their adar's eyes. He grinned at the thought. How he loved his little brother!

Beside him, Feren shifted fractionally. He had been surprised by Feren's assent to Legolas taking a watch. Feren was not one to have his orders countered, and certainly not by a youngling who had yet to see his first battle. More likely though Feren had given in to Aldeon, rather than Legolas. His oldest brother had somehow intervened, as he usually did when it came to Legolas. Aldeon would pluck stars from the heavens if he thought it would please their youngest brother.

Tavaro looked toward the tree again and decided that it was time to relieve Legolas of his watch. Sleep was not forthcoming to him in any event.

Legolas met him on his approach to the oak tree, after giving his older brother a breathless start yet again when he leapt to the ground in a single bound from a branch that was not meant for such a leap.

"What is wrong? Why are you awake?" Legolas asked.

"Nothing is wrong. It is time for my watch. Get you to bed, little brother," Tavaro responded cheerfully.

"So soon? I can take your watch if you wish," Legolas offered.

And continue to deprive your brothers of sleep, I think not, Tavaro thought to himself, but aloud, he said "No Legolas. Four of us, four watches. You said so yourself."

"All right," Legolas said, still reluctant to leave. "It was a very quiet watch. Nothing happened."

"Thank the Valar for that. Now go and get some sleep."

Legolas finally nodded and made his way to his sleeping brothers. He noted with a frown that his bedroll had been set up between Aldeon and Feren. Even in sleep, they were being overprotective. With quiet ease, he stretched out on top of the blankets and gazed at the sky above, the inky expanse decked and bejewelled with countless stars. He smiled contentedly. He had just completed his first watch while his brothers slept. The smile lingered still as sleep finally overcame him.

On either side of him, sleep at last came to his brothers.

TBC