See Chapter 1 for disclaimer

Chapter 15 - Anger and Guilt

"Enter," Feren called out curtly in response to the knocking on the door. He did not look up from the parchment he was reading but merely gave another terse command to the one who was now standing with uncertainty at the doorway. "Shut the door behind you."

Feren took his time to complete his perusal of the document before him, knowing full well that the ensuing silence would wear on the one summoned before him. He had no intention of making the forthcoming meeting an agreeable one. Indeed, he hoped that it would be as thoroughly unpleasant as it could be, without resorting to bloodshed.

The silence in the room was heavy, near suffocating with the promise of impending unpleasantries. The warrior standing before him shifted uneasily in spite of himself.

"You have sent for me, Lord Feren?" Bainion asked, unable to tolerate the silence any longer. To his credit, his voice was nearly steady and even harboured a hint of challenge.

"I did," Feren replied. "I will speak with you when I am ready, but not before."

"Yes, my lord," Bainion said, his lips pressing into a thin line.

The blanket of silence fell again. Though the room was cool, Bainion wished he had worn his lighter tunic as he fought against the urge to pull at the suddenly chafing material around his neck. He knew what was coming. He had been bracing himself for such a confrontation from the moment that he had been ordered back to the stronghold by his commander. It was inevitable. That spoiled youngling was the commander's brother after all, and the much doted upon son of the King.

After what seemed to be eternity to the apprehensive warrior, Feren at last set down the parchment and looked up, his face a blank, cold mask that revealed nothing of the inner fury that coursed through his very being.

"Do you know why you have been summoned before me?" Feren asked, surprised at the effort that it took to keep his voice impassive.

"I assume you wish for a more detailed report of what happened in the Eastern patrol," Bainion offered.

"I know what happened," Feren said, his eyes unyielding on the warrior. "I wish to know why it happened."

"I do not understand what you mean, my lord." Bainion looked genuinely puzzled.

"I have been under the impression that you are a warrior of considerable experience, and such has been confirmed by your captain, Callon. What we both do not understand is why you made decisions that were unworthy of even the greenest of novices, decisions that endangered the entire patrol. " Feren's voice was clipped and left little room for debate.

"In light of the circumstance, I did what I had to do," Bainion said, meeting his commander's cold gaze without hesitation. "It was my judgement call, my lord."

"Allowing orcs to escape so that they can bring back reinforcement is hardly, in my opinion, the judgement of a prudent officer," Feren said, his voice now hardened with barely concealed anger.

Bainion lifted his chin defiantly. "They could have easily led us into an ambush had I not called back the warriors when I did."

"It is my understanding that your patrol ambushed them, and not the other way around. The enemies were heading toward the main camp and had been surprised by you and your warriors. It was inexcusable to allow those two, at most three, orcs to escape when they could have been so easily eliminated. And they did bring back reinforcement such that the entire camp could have been easily wiped out and the security of our Eastern borders irreparably breached. Had Callon and I not returned with additional troops when we did, all those at the camp could have been killed, yourself included." Feren coldly regarded the unrepentant elf before him. "I do not take the death of my fellow warriors lightly."

Bainion pressed his lips into a defiant line. "Nor do I, my lord, but my intention at the time had been to return to the main camp as quickly as possible, knowing that orcs had been on the move in the area in recent weeks."

"And yet you sent the humans on their way with a mere escort of four warriors, knowing full well there were orcs nearby. That is akin to sending them to a certain death."

"I could spare no other warriors at the time, my lord," Bainion protested.

"Then you should not have sent them off at all, but await the return of Callon with the additional troops."

"I did not know when the Captain was to return, or whether he would in fact bring with him additional troops. To allow the humans to remain with us in the face of so much uncertainty would have exposed them to unnecessary danger."

"Unnecessary danger?" Feren echoed incredulously. "But sending them off with an inadequate escort, you exposed them to danger, as well as putting to risk the lives of the four warriors who formed the escort."

"As warriors, we are all exposed to danger, my lord," Bainion reminded. "Those who cannot take the risk should not be warriors."

Feren's eyes narrowed. "I know what it is that we are exposed to, but I find it very difficult to overlook the blatant stupidity of an officer who so foolishly and unforgivably exposes his warriors to unwarranted risk."

"I did what I thought was best at the time, my lord," Bainion once again insisted with defiance.

"Obviously, your best is not sufficient for the standards that we need to maintain for the protection of our realm," Feren said coldly. "I release you from your duty as a warrior."

Bainion's eyes widened in disbelief. "I have served our realm faithfully long before you were born, my lord, and you would dismiss me over one mere incident?"

"This mere incident, as you have so callously put it, has cost the lives of five warriors, and injuries to many," Feren reminded icily.

Bainion nodded slowly, his eyes bright with cold understanding. "I see, and your brother is among the injured."

Anger flared through Feren in a hot flash and it took all his self-control not to strike out at the face before him. "You would be well-advised not to tread in that direction, Bainion, unless you wish to be carried from this room. I speak these words to you not as your commander, but as Legolas' brother. My brother has been suffering a torment for the past days that I do not wish upon anybody. You may not be directly responsible for his injury, but your actions have no doubt led to the consequences as we have them. You are more fortunate than you will ever know in that the healers have assured us of my brother's ultimate recovery. Had Legolas succumbed to his injury, you would be receiving considerably more than this verbal reprimand from me. Indeed, your very future within Mirkwood would be at stake. That much I can guarantee you. You may now remove yourself from my sight."

The other looked as if to protest further, but after a brief hesitation, saluted stiffly before turning on his heels. The slam of the door was Bainion's final, wordless protest to what he no doubt saw as blatant injustice.

For a long time after the door had so unceremoniously slammed shut, Feren remained unmoving in his chair as he willed the cold fury that continued its rampage through him to a more sedate level. It was no easy feat. It had been so very tempting to wrap his hands around the neck of Bainion and choke the very life out of the unrepentant warrior when the latter had so callously dismissed the injury suffered by his young brother. Vivid images of a pain-wracked and bleeding Legolas flitted into his mind once again, and he shuddered uncontrollably. Even in sleep, these images had allowed him no rest.

His brooding silence was suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door and before he could bring himself to answer, the door opened and Thranduil made his way into the room. Hastily, Feren made to stand, only to be waved down by his father as the King settled himself into one of the chairs before the desk.

"Adar, is Legolas --?" Feren could not control the tremour in his voice, the fear sudden and real.

"No, Legolas is fine, or as fine as he can be in the circumstances. He sleeps still and Aldeon is watching over him," Thranduil assured his son quickly.

Feren nodded, incapable at the moment to verbalize the relief that he felt flooding through him. Thranduil watched him with sympathetic understanding and did not press him to speak.

It was quite some time before Feren at last broke the silence that fell between father and son. "I had Bainion summoned before me just now,"

Thranduil nodded. "I know."

"I have dismissed him from the warrior ranks," Feren continued, his thoughts still on the memories of the unpleasant encounter.

Thranduil again nodded. "I see."

After a brief pause, Feren went on, "That had not been my initial intention, but his conduct and words during our meeting allowed me no other alternative. We can ill afford the likes of him to defend our realm, much less having him in charge of other warriors. He lacks prudent judgement for an officer, and seems to hold little regard for the lives of others." Feren shook his head. "It confounds me to no end that such behaviour has escaped our notice for so long. It is inexcusable. Both Callon and I should have had an inkling of his weaknesses long before now. Deaths and injuries could have been prevented."

"Perhaps," Thranduil nodded. "But perhaps not. There are no guarantees in battles. You, more so than any one of us, should know that. Even under the most exceptional leadership, deaths and injuries still take place. The consequences could have been much, much worse."

Feren brows creased. "To the families of those dead warriors, the consequences could not be more devastating, Adar. Each of those warriors was a father, husband, son or brother to his loved ones. And if Legolas --"

"Legolas is going to be all right," Thranduil cut in quickly. "You were present when he finally awoke last evening. He is healing, Feren, albeit slower than we all wish. It was a particularly powerful poison, one that even Kala has not encountered before. Fortune is with us that this antidote is apparently working." Thranduil surprised himself with his own words. He certainly had not exercised the patience with the healers that he was now advocating to Feren, not when his youngest had hovered near death in those early hours.

Feren's frown deepened. "I doubt Legolas considers himself fortunate, considering all that he has suffered because of this one poisoned arrow."

"Legolas is alive," Thranduil said quietly. "The alternative is the fate suffered by Arphen and Tithernon."

Feren looked at his father and then hung his head. "I know Adar. I am more than thankful that Legolas' life has been spared. All the same, I would feel even more thankful when Legolas is able speak more than a few halting words to us at a time."

Thranduil smiled rather wanly. "As would I, Feren. Be assured that I have voiced similar concerns to Kala already." He watched his son quietly for a moment. "Feren, you are not responsible for your brother's injury."

Feren regarded his father with guilt-ridden eyes. "Am I not, Adar? I was the one who sent him to the Eastern patrol, against your wishes. Are you not angry with me for what has befallen Legolas?"

"I was angry at all of Arda when I first saw the state that your brother was in," Thranduil admitted truthfully. "In a breath, I would have torn apart with my bare hands those responsible for his suffering and my anger would still not have been vented. There is nothing more torturous than for a father to see his child suffer." He gave his son a long and sobering look. "Yet for all the anguish that I felt, I cannot in clear conscience direct any of my anger at you. You have your duties and responsibilities as commander of the warriors, and those duties and responsibilities do not necessarily coincide with the more selfish desires of a father. I do not like to see any of my sons come to harm, but both you and I can only do what we think is best in the face of the ever-encroaching Shadow. Rest assured that I will not interfere or doubt your decisions." Thranduil smiled wryly. "After all, to question your decisions would be akin to questioning my own decision in appointing you as commander. I have faith in the decision that I made so many years ago, and you have given me no cause to this date to doubt that very decision."

Feren drew in a deep breath. "Thank you, Adar, thank you. You do not know how much your words mean to me."

This time, Thranduil gave him a warm smile as only a father could do. "I believe I do, my son."

Feren returned the smile and stood up. "The funerals for Arphen and Tithernon are set for this evening. I must pay a visit to their families to see if they lack for anything. As well, I will need to stop by the healing wing to see to the injured warriors. By your leave, Adar,"

Thranduil nodded and straighten as well from his own chair. "I shall accompany you."

Feren frowned. "Should you not return to Legolas' side, in case he awakens again?"

Thranduil shook his head, pushing aside the strong desire to return to the bedside of his youngest as quickly as possible. He was a father, but he was also the King of his realm. "Legolas will recover from this. Tithernon and Arphen are not as fortunate, and their families will suffer for a long time for their loss. They need to know that their king shares in their suffering and loss."

Feren nodded, secretly relieved to have the company of his father for the trying task ahead. As they made their way down the palace corridors, followed by two of the King's personal guards from a discreet distance, he glanced sideways at his father and confessed, "I had some very harsh words for Bainion while he attended before me."

"Good!" Thranduil nodded approvingly. Then seeing his son's raised brow, he let out a small laugh. "I do not take kindly to those who purposely expose my son to danger. These words I speak as a father, and not as a king."

Feren allowed himself a small smile. "I am afraid I too was allowing brotherly sentiments overtake those of the commander by the time I was done with Bainion."

Thranduil placed his arm lightly around his son's shoulder. "It is difficult, is it not, to juggle with our various and often contradictory roles? Even with all the long years behind me, I have yet to find the perfect balance. I fear it is something that will elude me for many more years yet, indeed, if I ever achieve that balance at all."

Feren felt the warmth and assurance from his father's light embrace, and smiled.

TBC