Chapter Two: Aldamir

With an air of casual routine, Seregon entered my office and placed his hand over his heart in salute. I have never needed to worry about Seregon’s informal manners when we are alone, for he always displays proper respect when we are in view of those we command. When alone, our ranks separate us only in name. And I am often glad when the door is closed, and we can simply be cousins with a job to do. He has always been attuned to my moods and to the affairs of the realm; he easily discerns when our meetings will be formal and when they will not. He knows me well. As I do him, I thought with pleasure. On this day, he looked happy and in anticipation of enjoying whatever he had up his sleeve. He was aching to bring something up with me, and I was certain that I knew what this was. I waved him to take a seat.

He sat down and smiled at me in the way he does when a mischievous mood is upon him. “I see you have the schedule for the games,” he said as he pointed to the parchment newly arrived from Melda.

I returned his smile. “Yes. As always, Melda has everything well planned.”

Seregon laughed. “I cannot help but wonder if our calm headmaster is ready for this group that includes our brothers. I am not certain if I am pleased that the young ones are of the age to participate, or worried that Daeron will be running wild through the forest, fully armed.”

“He will not be running wild,” I said. “The masters will keep an eye on them. Undertaking these games will be good for them. Being a warrior will not always be as adventuresome as I think our little brothers believe at this point. I think an eye opener is in store for them.”

“That it will be,” Seregon agreed, as he began shuffling through the papers he held. Quickly, he found the one he wanted, and his face took on a more serious expression as he edged back toward the official reason he had come to my office. I knew this would only be temporary; he would get to his questions in due time. Seregon would take care of the necessary business first. “I have been working on rearranging the home guard to offer more security in the area where the novices will be. With the movement of the spiders, I have rerouted the daily routines to include passes through these areas more frequently. I know we are limited at this point with the numbers in the home guard, but the changes will not cause any true hardships.” He handed the paper over to me. “By your leave, I will instruct Celelion and make him aware of the positions of the novices as Melda has planned.”

After Melda informed us of the route he would take the novices, we always notified the home guard as to the position and the daily movements of the games. If they were able, they would offer some assistance to the masters. A group of the home guard would leave trails for the novices to follow and if time permitted, they would engage the novices in mock battles. I smiled. This novice training exercise was truly a game for the often quiet guard. They delighted in transforming into fierce orcs bent on taking out as many of the novices as possible in a mock battle. I cannot say that I blame them.

A highlight of the games for everyone was that Celelion thrilled in taking on his sister’s husband, Melda, though officially the masters were not part of the games. Celelion’s reasoning was always the same: if they had been true orcs, they would not spare the masters. I saw no reason to intervene in this family tradition. The contest was always hard fought and a much needed release for the two older warriors, and it was also a contest that delighted the novices as they observed their headmaster pushed to his limit. The novices could learn much by observing these two seasoned and fierce warriors battling each other unto an ever-changing end. Even I found myself looking forward to which one would win this year.

“So what, cousin, will you wager this year on the outcome of Melda and Celelion?” Seregon asked.  I have always suspected that he could read my mind, and his timely mention of this contest merely offered more evidence that perhaps he did, indeed, know me all too well.

“I do not know,” I said, giving his offer the look of serious consideration. “I lost my best fillet knife to you last year when Celelion bested Melda.”

“Then I will offer it back,” Seregon said.

I leaned back in my chair. “Very well,” I agreed. “Then I will wager the new quiver I had made last winter.”

“Done,” Seregon smiled. “I need a new quiver.”

“Do not be so certain, cousin,” I said. “I will take Melda again this year. He will be smelling blood and will not be bested again.”

Seregon smiled crookedly. “Ah, but Celelion will be intent on not losing his title. He will be ready.”

“We will see,” I said. Now that our wager had been set, I picked up the paper outlining the rearranged home guard patrol and read it over.  “This appears fine. Of course, Celelion will make adjustments from the field if events change.”  Placing the parchment back on my desk, my thoughts took a more serious turn.  “I am concerned about the spiders. Thus far, we have heard no reports of any sighting this close to the protected woods, but at the rate they are moving, I do not want to assume they will not be a problem. Be certain the masters know of the latest reports we receive from the field.”

Seregon nodded. “I note that Melda has adjusted his usual path to a more eastern one. I presume this is in response to the western problems. Still, I will see that he is kept informed of any communication we receive about the spider activity.” Seregon chuckled. “Besides, we can always count on Daeron to let us know if there are any spiders within a hundred leagues of him.”

I smiled as I shook my head in mock sadness. “Poor Daeron. His time is running out. Soon he will have to face this fear.” I raised my eyebrows. “We are going to have to find a way to initiate him into the finer aspects of killing the creatures instead of tossing them into your plate.” The memory of an evening meal long ago when Legolas secreted a small garden spider into the family dining room and put it on Daeron, still made us laugh. In Daeron’s frantic dance to remove the spider from his arm, he knocked it into Seregon’s plate. I fear we will still be reminding Daeron of this episode when we reach the Undying Lands, much to his dismay, I am certain.

Seregon laughed out loud. “I wish you luck then. I fear he will never get over his hatred of the dread creatures. I suppose we can only hope that he does not run when confronted.”

I snorted softly. “He will not run.”

“That is possible,” Seregon mused. “He might be frozen to the spot.” Seregon shook his head mournfully. “I can only hope that whomever Uncle chooses to be his guard will be able to keep Daeron upright and fight spiders at the same time.”

“He has a few more years before we need worry,” I said, thinking how close Seregon might be to the truth. Daeron was unusually squeamish about the creatures. And that was only the little ones. I dreaded to think about him encountering the real menaces that dwell in our forest. Still, I maintained hope that with maturity he would master his fears.

Seregon leaned back in his chair and turned his resolute gaze to me. “Now that we are settled on our wager, the home guards, and my younger brother’s passage into adulthood, let us move to more pleasant conversation.” He smiled. “How was your evening with the lovely Elenna?”

I knew this was what was on his mind the moment he entered my office. Other than Seregon, there was no one with whom I could discuss such personal matters. A spontaneous smile sprang to my lips. Warmth flooded my chest.  I did not want to repress my joy; instead I wanted to share it with my kinsman and closest friend. “I appreciate you taking the final guard check last evening.”

Waving his hand in dismissal, Seregon said, “I was happy to do so. As payment of services rendered, I want to know the details.” His eyes lit in anticipation. “Did you kiss her?”

“Of course not,” I answered. “I just met her.” I did not dare cross into such familiarity, but this was not because I did not want to. Many years had passed since I had felt such an attraction to a maiden.  Mirkwood has her share of lovely maidens, and many of these maidens I saw daily. I could not deny that I found them pleasing, but I rarely had the time to cultivate attachments. No one had to tell me that I had been unwilling to take the steps necessary to nurture relationships with maidens, but I have found it much safer to stay within the confines of family and duty. I was sure my parents would like me to settle down with a nice elleth and give them grandchildren, but the time had simply not been right, nor had I met a maiden that brought such thoughts to the forefront of my thinking. Until now.

“And what did you find out about her?” Seregon asked. “Do you wish to see her again?”

“I would like to know her better,” I said. “She is a lovely maiden, but she lives a three-day ride from here.” I sighed. “And the villagers are different than we are in many ways.”

“How do you mean?”

“The villagers are for the most part Silvan, of course, and have lived in the same areas of the forest since time immemorial. They seem to be less reserved than those of us with Sindar roots.”

“We have always known that,” Seregon pointed out.

“True, but I suppose I have never considered the differences on a personal level. They seem much freer in how they approach relationships. There is less protocol.”

“In what way?” Seregon asked.

I did not know exactly how to answer that. I felt as if Elenna had wanted me to kiss her, but I had been the one to hold back. Such immediate intimacy was not the way we conducted courtships and certainly not at first or casual encounters. When we courted a maiden, the process was often long and drawn out. Not everyone took long years to know that they wished to be together, but I could not see me skirting the appropriate time needed to be certain the match would be a good one. Nor could I not risk gossip or bad feelings with the subjects of these woods by causing misunderstandings or hurt feelings. Casual relationships with maidens were not a part of my life. “I do not know exactly. She is the daughter of a village leader and should be treated with all respect. I simply felt that they are less inhibited in some ways.”

“I am not certain what you are saying,” Seregon said.

I grimaced. “I am not either, and that is the problem.”

“I do not think the villagers are so different than we are.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “I think the problem is that you simply do not know anything about maidens.”

I laughed. “That is true enough.”

“Despite possible differences,” Seregon said, “do you plan to court her?”

“We will see,” I said. “I will have to wait and evaluate the situation when I have more information.”

Seregon laughed out loud then. “Evaluate the situation?” he howled. “You make her sound like a war campaign.”

I frowned. “That is not what I meant. I simply meant that she might not wish to see me more than last night. I do not know. I am certain there are many eligible Elves who would vie for her attention”

Seregon snorted. “But none better than you!” He leaned forward. “If you wish to pursue this, do not be put off. You are a warrior and a hunter. You can track her.”

I laughed then at his ridiculous analogy. “And now you make her sound like game I am looking to fell.”

“That is often what courtship is, my cousin. It is a game of survival of the most fit. You can be charming when you set your mind to it.”

“Now you encourage me to be dishonest?” I grinned.

Seregon waved his hand. “Not at all. I encourage you to be yourself. Let her know your interest.”

“And if she does not return this?” I said, feeling my chest tighten.

“Then you will have the answer to where this might have gone. If you do not try, then you will never know.”

“Sometimes ignorance is better than the stark knowledge of your shortcomings,” I said.

“What shortcomings would those be, Aldamir? The worst that anyone can say about you is that you are too serious at times.” He shook his head. “That is not something I can readily comment on as I am viewed the same way.” He smiled then. “But you and I both know that we are not nearly as boring as others assume.”

“Our brothers are the ones who think we are as dull as a rusted blade, not those with any sense of propriety.”

“Nonetheless, you should do as you see fit. Enjoy the maiden’s company while she is here. You will know what to do when the time comes.”

“That is good to know,” I said dryly. “I hope that you will be near at hand to help me discern what I know when that time comes.”

Seregon laughed heartily. “And just think, your naneth would be thrilled.” He shook his head as if dismayed. “I do not understand, but the female folk seem to embrace matchmaking as a calling. My naneth would love for me to find a nice elleth to tell me what to do, thereby relieving her of the responsibility of having to supervise my every move.”

I laughed. “Do you think bonding would ease our naneths of the need to direct us?”

“No, but Naneth says it would,” Seregon laughed. “Parenting must be a hard habit to break.”

“Indeed,” I agreed. “Adar would not say anything, I do not think, but my guess is that he would like for me to settle into a more domestic routine with my own children to harass me. Occasionally he will tell me he has kept a list of all the ridiculous things I did as an elfling so he can remind me of them when I am an adar.”

Seregon grimaced. “I hope he will not bring up the wine pantry incident. I get headaches thinking about it.”

I could not help but laugh at the memory of an event that was not amusing at the time. At least it was not the next morning.  “As do I,” I said.

“And this is what you want?” Seregon asked with an amused tilt to his mouth. “You want to bond and put yourself through having children like we were? May the Valar help us. I do not know that I could handle elflings. I would rather battle orcs.”

“I am sure that there were times when our parents thought we were orcs.” I smiled feeling a longing in my heart that I had not known was there until recently. “But someday, yes, I would like to have my own spawn.”

“And Elenna has potential as the mother for your offspring?” he asked.

“I truly do not know. Only time will tell.”

“But you like you her?”

I smiled again. “I like her.”

“Then it is settled,” he said as he stood. “By your leave, my lord, I have duties to attend. I believe my work here is complete.”

“Indeed it is,” I smiled. “One more thing,” I said shaking my self away from the pleasant thoughts of the most beautiful maiden I had ever seen. “I have a message from Melda that it is time for the warriors to attend a skills trial. He has proposed the usual rotation schedule to bring in warriors from the field to participate. He will be prepared once he returns from the Endurance Games, and I give him leave to begin. That will include you and me, cousin,” I told him, raising my brow.

Seregon grimaced. “The trials are not altogether terrible, I suppose,” he said. “At least there is much feasting and family that surrounds the suffering.”

Indeed, a mixture of pleasure and pain always came hand in hand with the warriors’ trials. Despite the punishing work-outs arranged by Melda for the warriors to continue to hone our skills, this event was a joyous time for the families of the warriors when their loved ones were home. Many family members came to observe the contests and instructional bouts given by the masters. Families brought baskets of food and drink, feasting with the warriors and other families as they cheered the ones drilling on the fields. The trials would go on for nearly two months in the late summer and early fall every other year as the constantly shifting troops came and went. Each warrior was home for a week of sweat and reunion with his family. I have to say that I enjoy the time immensely when I walk among those under my command and watch as they push themselves to achieve an even higher standard. Though I did feel some dread at what Melda would do to me personally, I have to also say that I love pushing myself into a sweat drenched and exhausted state of remembering what it feels like to wield a sword and bow. I spend far too much time indoors. So does Seregon. He had not spent nearly as much time in the field as he was accustomed. Though he never complained, I knew he missed being out in the forest as much as I did. “Perhaps we should begin practicing so as to not embarrass ourselves,” I said.

“Do not despair, cousin,” he chuckled. “I will help you get back in shape before Melda finds out how soft you have gone.”

I shook my head. “And I will help you serve night duty for the next month so that you will recall what it feels like to be sleep deprived.”

He bowed to me in a mocking fashion. “If taking this burden will make you feel better about your inadequate skills, then I will gladly accept it.”

I laughed and waved my hand at him in leave. “Go and start sharpening your blade. I will meet you on the fields when the time comes.”

“I accept your challenge, my lord. I will try to not embarrass you,” he called over his shoulder as he left.

After the communal feast the night before, Adar and Naneth hosted a small evening meal in the Great Hall for the visitors and their companions. I finished my work later than usual and quickly went to my chambers where I bathed and changed into formal robes.  This gathering would be less formal than the one the evening before, but my parents still insisted that we all dress as appropriate to our stations. Once I had crammed the mithril circlet on my head, checked one last time to be certain it was secure and not hanging crookedly on my still damp hair, I walked hurriedly down the corridor from the family wing to the Great Hall. As the posted guards saluted, I acknowledged them, but my main focus was on maintaining a composure that was slipping away as quickly as the time. At the doors of the Great Hall, I stopped for a moment to gather myself. With one last deep breath, I nodded to the guard to open the door.

In those first few moments of entering the Hall, I dismissed everyone and everything from my sight as I sought out the dark hair of the maiden who had occupied nearly all my thoughts over the last day. She was there, standing by the unlit fireplace talking to my naneth and Aunt Noreth. Adar caught my attention before I could make my way to her and motioned me to join him. Seregon and the leaders were with him, seated comfortably in a small alcove of embroidered chairs and sleekly polished tables. The younger brothers were milling about talking to the members of the villagers’ delegations. I bowed to my adar as the village leaders and Seregon came to their feet and bowed to me. “I apologize for my tardiness,” I said. “There were some last minute details I was required to attend before I could leave my office.” I waved the villagers and my cousin to the chairs. “Please, be seated.” Adar motioned me to a vacant chair. I took the seat and received the goblet of wine a servant brought immediately to my elbow. I took a polite sip, using the motion to steal one last glance toward the fireplace.

“Are there more reports of spider activity?” Calendon asked.

“The dispatches I received today mirror those I have received for the last few days,” I told him. “The situation has not improved.” This was not the whole story, but I said nothing else for I had not had time to brief Adar on what the last minute dispatches held. The situation had not improved, but there had been new information. Even with new warriors sent into the fray, the spiders seem to spring out of nowhere. I had begun to fear that we were fighting a losing battle against numbers that far exceeded anything we could have ever imagined. Erelas’ report had been filled with locations and numbers that belied reason. In his last dispatch, he revealed a most unusual finding that I was not quite certain what to make of yet. Still, the villagers were doomed if we did not see to the removal of the spiders or the villagers quickly. They would not cohabitate peacefully. Time was running short.

Sensing my discomfort with the line of conversation, I supposed, Adar waved his hand. “Let us not speak of worries. We will address them on the morrow. Tonight we will enjoy one another’s company, and the fine food and wine that has been set out for us.”

“Of course,” Calendon said. “I would be very interested in hearing about your foresters, my lord,” he said, addressing Adar. “We strive to care for the forest of our home and are always looking for new ways to aid the trees.”

As Adar and the village leaders talked about the growing of new seedlings, I noticed Seregon watching me. He smiled and nodded slightly toward where our naneths were gaily chatting with Elenna. I slanted one side of my mouth in mock horror and turned my attention to the conversation about growing and maintaining the health of trees that I knew were doomed to fall to the shadow unless we could miraculously come up with a solution.

When we were seated for the meal, I found myself next to Elenna. Suddenly it dawned upon me that my naneth’s hand was written all over this arrangement. I fought the urge to look at the queen. I imagined she was already envisioning rocking her first grandchild.

“I had a lovely evening last night,” I heard the soft voice next to me say. I turned quickly to look into eyes as blue as an autumn sky. I grinned despite myself. She returned my smile. “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the beauty of the gardens and the paths by starlight.”

“It was my pleasure,” I said. “The gardens are one of my naneth’s passions. Her touch can bring forth even the most reluctant bloom.”

“As I saw,” Elenna said. “They are exquisite. I have been speaking to her about the many varieties she grows. She has much knowledge in the art.”

“Yes, she does,” I agreed. “She and my Aunt Noreth spend a great deal of time seeing to the gardens.”

“And you do not enjoy such pursuits?” she asked.

“I enjoy the gardens. I find that I have little time to engage in their care at this time.” I smiled. “But I have spent time cultivating beds and seedlings.”

“But not by choice?” she laughed.

“Not at the time,” I smiled wryly.

“Then what, my lord, do you do with your free time?” she asked.

I had no reply. I thought about this for a few moments. I seemed to have very little time I sought to fill. My time was dictated by my duty—and personal choices. “I suppose I spend it with my family.”

“I see,” she said. “I met your younger brother and Lord Seregon’s younger brother earlier; they are pleasant and engaging young Elves.”

I chuckled. “I am pleased to hear that they know something of manners. One can never be certain where they are concerned.”

Elenna laughed. I felt an odd tingling run my spine as I listened to the lightness of her voice. She absolutely delighted me. “They were very polite,” she said. Then she took a delicate sip of wine as she looked thoughtfully at me. “No, I cannot imagine you tending gardens or growing flowers.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“You do not seem to be one who would be able to be still long enough to wait for the fruits of such labor. You seem more at ease with constant activity.”

That was not what I expected. Suddenly, I felt as if this trait of mine ran contrary to the spirit of a wood-elf.  By blood, I was Sinda, but I had known only the forest as my home and as such, had always considered myself as much a wood-elf as any Silvan.  Elenna was correct that such pursuits did not hold my interest for long. I did enjoy the peacefulness of the gardens and longed for moments to sit quietly among the flowers and greenery to read or simply to spend time under the trees. But finding such pleasures was entirely different than spending hours on my knees digging out weeds. Plainly, I was not called to grow things, but I did appreciate them. I was, however, called to the forest, in appreciation and protection. “I suppose I am drawn to more active pursuits,” I said cautiously.

She smiled. “I think you are a comfortable commander.”

“Comfortable commander,” I mused, relieved that she did not appear to find me lacking.  A smile pushed at my lips at her unlikely description. “I am not certain I know what that means.”

“You are comfortable with who you are,” she said. “You seem very natural in command.”

“I have been commanding for a long time,” I said as I noted that my adar was watching me with some interest and possibly some amusement. He frequently reminded me that I was young in age and young in my duty.

“Yes, but not everyone is comfortable with who they are,” Elenna went on, apparently unaware of the glances exchanged between my adar and myself. “And not everyone can find the truth of who they are and use that truth to the betterment of themselves and others.”

“I try to always do my best where the protection of this realm is concerned,” I said, suddenly wondering where this conversation was going. “My warriors’ lives depend on me making sound decisions and making them swiftly when called for. We have no lives to waste.”

“You know every warrior by name, do you not?” she asked.

I felt my eyebrows furrow slightly. “Yes,” I said slowly.

“Nothing escapes your attention, does it?” she said, a smile upon her lips that I could not read.

“The purpose of this conversation completely escapes me,” I said, perhaps a bit too stiffly.

“I mean no offense, my lord. I simply want to know you.”  She looked at me with such intensity that I felt she could truly see to my heart. “I find you fascinatingly different from any Elf I have ever known. I see this competent, alert, and hard-working commander of all the troops of this realm and under that competence, I see an Elf who knows every warrior by name and most likely his wife or his sweetheart’s name, and the names of his children and his parents.”

“I see that as part of being a competent commander,” I said.

“I see that as part of your heart, my lord. Not all commanders are so caring and personal. And you are entirely comfortable with this part of yourself. Indeed, you do not even view this as extraordinary.”

I shook my head.

“Even now,” she said, “you do not see your abilities as unique. You simply expect that everyone is as devoted as you, and you suffer nothing less. And I wager your troops give this to you.”

For a moment, I could say nothing I was so stunned. Never had I felt so laid bare or so confused. She had been bold in saying those things to me, bolder than anyone I had ever known. Not even Seregon had ever been so blunt—or so right. I could not have put into words the things she said. A part of me was frightened witless, and another part of me was so drawn to her that I could not look away or find any offense for her trespasses into my personal life. In fact, there was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to pull her from her chair into my arms and kiss her until neither of us could draw breath. “The woodland warriors,” I said instead, “are devoted to the protection of this realm. There are none on all of Arda who work harder or give more of themselves. But this is to their credit, not mine.”

“Indeed,” she said, “but the commander does instill either loyalty or rebellion. You do influence them.”

“I suppose,” I said. “But I appreciate them and hold them in high regard. What they do is dangerous and often difficult. I intend my influence to be one of a positive value. Even at that, I am sometimes forced to make difficult decisions and to reprimand when called for. This is my duty. The good of the entire realm is more important than one individual. Still, that does not mean that individual needs are ignored. I do my best to see that those within my power to grant are met.”

She smiled again. “As I said, you are a comfortable commander.”

Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms. I sighed as I tried to digest what she had said. “Commanding is not always a comfortable post. I would say that it is often trying. I am responsible for what happens, whether it goes well or ill.”

She tilted her head as if to think. “I did not mean that you do not feel the burden of responsibility or the sorrows of loss. While you do not carry this burden without knowing its weight, you seem to carry it as if it is a part of your nature to shoulder the heaviest burdens.”

Again, I had no reply. I looked out across the Great Hall at everyone who talked and ate, enjoying the evening. Here was almost everyone I loved. Legolas laughed at something Daeron said. A moment of foresight flashed before my eyes, and I saw what they would soon know about the evil that hunted us daily. “Sometimes,” I said quietly, “it is too heavy.” But worth it, I wanted to say, but did not. Adar’s head was bent slightly as he listened to what my naneth was telling him. Aunt Noreth smiled at Sordien as he talked animatedly using his hands to tell his story. I saw Calendon join in Adar and Naneth’s conversation. Seregon caught my eye and smiled from where he was listening intently as another villager explained something in what looked like painstaking detail.

Suddenly realizing I had drifted, I turned back at Elenna. She was watching me. Her face was open and her smile genuine. “My lord, I would be honored if you would walk me to our cottage this night.” Then her smile broadened. “That is if you wish and you have no other responsibilities to attend.”

“I wish,” I said softly as I felt a smile come back to my lips.