Soon spring gave way to summer, and the bright new green of the leaves darkened and deepened on the trees; the sky blew open its dome of brilliant blue and settled into a warm yellow haze as the pine trees set forth their seed, and the clouds clotted and rumbled together, scurrying past and dragging their shadows behind them, surprising everyone with violent showers or letting out gusts of hot damp air, booming and cracking when a thunderstorm struck, and roosting upon the horizon to set sunrise and sunset glowing with golden molten embers.  Birds nested in the green leafy towers of Dol Galenehtar in droves, chattering and bickering over branches and seeds; deer rutted and bawled, squirrels built huge untidy nests in the tops of the pines, and the last winter snows upon the slopes of the mountains melted and rushed down the rivers and cataracts in white surging plumes, stirring up huge mists that watered the ferns and boxwoods and rosemary brakes nestled in the rocky cliffs.  In every dell the daffodils and narcissi and hyacinth gave way to daisies and violets and dandelions, and the gardens of the Elves burst forth in fragrant display, twining with vines and blossoms and trumpets and tendrils.  The vineyards started to put forth good show with huge clusters of dark grapes upon the eastern slopes, and tiny bunches of white grapes huddled beneath dark leaves in the southern fields; the olive trees were laden with fruit and the herb gardens heavy with scent, and with the hum of the bees darting to and fro seeking nectar. 

But Fastred's thirteenth summer, that he had anticipated with such great pleasure and elaborate scheming, crawled by with an interminability tantamount to eternity.  Summers had ever been fleeting affairs for him, flashing by as quickly as a bright sleek trout in clear water, pleasing yet brief, and when autumn came he had always found himself wondering where the warm lazy months had gone, and why he had not been able to accomplish all the wonderful things he had planned in the spring:  the building of tree houses, the climbing of cliffs, the exploration of the ruins of the old citadel, the fishing and camping and tramping and boating – there had never been time enough before; summer had always fled past on feet too swift to stay for him even an instant.  But not this summer!  Ever did Fastred toil in the back courtyard, hot and aching and weary, with scarce a moment to spare to gaze out the gates to the delights beyond; but oftimes his thoughts wandered back to Osgiliath, and to his friend Halgond, and a sharp pain pierced him when he would realize this last summer here in Ithilien would have been spent with his friend, had Fastred not run away.  And he would think of his brother and sister, and the many happy hours he ought to have spent with them in the nursery, building up treasures of memories to bring with him when he went alone to Rohan, and then he would miss them terribly; also he thought upon his Lord Father and Lady Mother and his heart was wrung with a sickening mixture of guilt and longing.

Worst still was Legolas' indifference – Fastred had thought that at least in his toil he might foregather with his Elvish friend but that was not to be so; the Elf lord came rarely to the back courtyards but kept himself to his chambers and offices and throne rooms, and when he would ask Andunië her lord's whereabouts she would shrug and say:  "What matters that to you?  He is likely too busy."  Fastred could see from the dusty yard the citadel walls and the high tower of Dol Galenehtar – clad in white marble, girt with gold leaf and dressed in verdant ivy dotted with flowers – could see the tall windows sparkling with cut glass and oriels, could see the dovecotes and terraces and balconies and the many Elves going to and fro about their business.  But he did not see Legolas, and he could not go there; he was confined to the eastern courtyard where worked the huntsmistress upon her dogs and her falcons and her young mortal charge.  There were no feasts nor outings nor quiet lazy days with books or toys for him; he had sworn fealty unto the Lord of Dol Galenehtar, bowing before his beloved Lord Lassah and taking an oath to work through his sanctuary, and his days of leisure were past.  His disappointment in his friend turned slowly to resentment, and then to sorrowful acceptance; his thoughts became bleak and sad, and he found himself missing his brother and sister all the more, and his own room with its big comfortable bed – Andunië insisted he sleep in the kennels – and especially his noble parents, against whom he had rebelled so heartlessly.  He missed his father's gentle laugh, and twinkling eyes, and strong brown hands; he missed his mother's quick fierce embraces, and the proud lift of her chin, and her long golden hair.  When he recalled their thoughts upon his disappearance his throat grew a lump and his eyes stung; only Andunië's cool and disinterested face kept the traitorous tears away.

But once did Fastred admit to anyone his atonement had worn thin; Bandobras the Perian had passed his way and asked a question, casual and friendly as was his wont, on a day when Fastred's head ached and his back groaned and his heart hurt, and the Little Lord of Osgiliath tearfully vented his frustration, full of penance and anger and homesickness and weariness.  The Hobbit had only patted Fastred on the shoulder and given him what words of comfort he could find – "Well, it is only for a short time; soon you'll be going to Rohan anyway, and there'll be no more kennel-work for you – you'll be a prince then."  Fastred had agreed vehemently, his eyes clouded with tears yet glowing with the hope of his future, and Bandobras seeing this hid his smile behind his hand, and scurried off to talk to his master.

Andunië worked Fastred hard; he found her exacting and merciless, and was convinced she thought more of her birds and dogs than for the small boy placed in her care, and this was perhaps not far from the mark, for Andunië was unsociable and preferred the company of her beasts to that of her fellows.  Fastred was in awe of her, for her great ability to mold the animals' wills to her own, and for her innate understanding of their natures, and for her proud and thoughtless beauty; he feared her, and admired her wisdom and energy, and at times he quite hated her.  She never smiled nor laughed; her green eyes were hard as stone, and her face immovable; she was immune to entreaty and tireless in her duties, and expected the same perfection of toil in her young charge.  And when Fastred stung beneath her disapproval, or sweated through her orders, he found himself resenting Legolas the more, for it was he who had placed Fastred in this intolerable position – could he not have let Fastred work in the palace or the stables, where at least they might meet each other and speak?  But the Green Knight was nowhere to be seen, and Fastred felt quite injured by his insouciance.  "My Lord Father's belt would have been preferable to this," he thought to himself on more than one occasion; it would have been bad enough to be whipped at home, but it would have been better than to be ignored abroad.

At first he was required simply to clean the kennels and mews; this involved much shoveling and lifting, and was smelly and unpleasant; after a week of this Andunië trained him to clean the cadges and creances and jesses and hoods, being sure to point out to him every crease and crack he had missed, making him feel as though he could never please her; when she perceived his enjoying play with the dogs overmuch she confined him to the mews and to the caretaking of the eyasses and haggards, teaching him the importance of using the heavy leather manifers when the hawks and falcons perched on him.  He was surprised the first time the great goshawk stepped, nervous and unwilling, upon his arm; he had not thought so large a bird would be so light, and said so proudly to the huntsmistress.  Andunië narrowed her green eyes at him, and Fastred was filled with apprehension; sure enough she then forced him to carry several peregrines at once for an hour to show him how heavy a bird could become over time.  His muscles ached and he was covered with pin-holes and punctures despite the manifers; once an eyas bit him hard on the arm causing him to cry out; while Andunië mopped up the blood she simply said:  "You tugged too hard on the jesses; that is no way to man a raptor."  And Fastred's heart sank again; he was sure nothing he could do would ever rise to her standards.

And still he did not see Lord Lassah – or Lord Legolas, as he was now constrained to call him; Andunië had casually threatened to box his ears when he had once let slip the childhood nickname – or anyone from the inner court at all for many interminable weeks.  He did not know Legolas watched him anxiously from upper windows or behind fences and walls, marking his labor, his heart wrung with pity and frustration; he did not know Andunië would go to her lord every evening after Fastred had been sent to his cot, to give a précis of her charge's day in great detail, and to discuss with him Fastred's progress; he did not know Bandobras and his mother set spies upon him to see if he fared well or ill, sending special treats from the kitchens to augment his simple meals of bread and meat, and anxiously arguing whether the plan would work or no.  He had no idea Legolas' absence pained the Elf as much as it did him, and that his friend ached within, longing to see the boy, to embrace him, to give him a kind or encouraging word.  He knew only the Elves working within that courtyard for he was never permitted to leave it, not even to visit Hwindiö in the smithy; he had hoped at least to spend time in the stables, visiting with his Karakse and perchance hearing a kind word from Tyarmayél, for whom he had ever been a pet; but even that good woman gave him but quiet smiles and nods of greeting; he was trapped with Andunië, and was very unhappy.

After five weeks of this treatment, Andunië said he was ready to go out with the hunters.  Fastred exulted; he had longed to run in the woods and fields, to feel the cold wet noses of the hounds thrust into his hands, to ride upon his Karakse in the hunt.  But then he realized he was to be naught but a carrier-boy: They loaded him down with packs and supplies and went off ahead of him; he did naught but jog along behind them on his own two feet, bringing to them skins of water or replacement leather for hoods and jesses; his arms and legs were so tired that night he could barely move, but lay simply upon his cot and groaned.  And the following morning Andunië roused him before daybreak and said:  "On your feet, son of Faramir!  We go up the slopes to the high plateau to weather the eagles."  And for all that day, and for days after, did Fastred struggle behind the heartless hunters bearing their loads, so out of breath he could scarcely pay attention to the fruit of the hunt; after several weeks of this however he began to grow used to it, and with Andunië at his side learned how to slip the falcons, and stand back as their huge wings sent them aloft, how to call to them so they would wait-on, how to cast a recalcitrant bird when it bated, and how to feed it its reward without getting his fingers bitten.  Soon he discovered the tight-chested thrill of watching his eyas enter and stoop upon its prey, and when his goshawk at last perched upon his arm bearing in its beak a fat rabbit all the hunters applauded him, and his heart soared.  He looked to Andunië hoping for approbation but she only shrugged and said, "Adequate."  Disappointed Fastred put the rabbit in his pocket and hooded the goshawk, and followed the hunters back down to the valley.

That evening when he was raking out the mews Andunië called to him; he turned to her and was startled to see her holding a large heavy halberd, bound in iron and carved with Dwarvish runes, which she threw to him upright.  Automatically Fastred dropped his rake and caught it one-handed; he held it up to her, puzzled; for the first time he saw those agate eyes soften.  She approached him, took the halberd, and left the mews saying over her shoulder, "You are nearly ready."

Wondering what she meant, Fastred finished his chores and went to bed; he was tired as usual, but just before his eyes slipped shut remembered that, the last time he had tried to pick up a halberd, many months ago when he had been a guest and not a servant in Dol Galenehtar, he had struggled simply to lift it.  He gave his arms a tentative poke, and felt hard muscle; pleased, he drifted off to sleep.  And Andunië went to the trough and washed her hands and face, wiped her soiled boots upon the mat, and strode up through the citadel to the main tower to speak to her lord.

The next morning when Fastred awoke he went forthwith to the mews and lifted his rake, for that was his primary chore; Andunië however took from him the rake and said:

"Go see Hwindiö."

Confused but happy to leave the courtyard Fastred trotted away; he passed through the back postern and circled the inner ward past the buttery, waving to the cooks as he went; they all bid him good-morning and he sped past with a light heart.  He thought perhaps Andunië were releasing him to work in the smithy, which pleased him; he liked Hwindiö, liked his brash laugh and short shaggy hair, his cinder-dusted clothes and easy smile.  However when he gained the smithy there stood not before the door Hwindiö nor even the Man Onborn his assistant, but Himbaláth smiling down at him, his bright hair streaming about his shoulders, and two halberds in hand.  After Fastred stopped before him Himbaláth handed him a halberd and said:

"Now these blades are dull, Little Fastred, but one can still injure oneself or one's companions quite easily if the weapons are incorrectly used.  Stand to upon that mark, and I shall instruct you how to use it; it is not so elegant a weapon as a sword, but as you will see far more damaging to an enemy when wielded with skill and strength."

For the rest of that month did Himbaláth teach him to use sundry weapons – the halberd, both broad swords and cutlasses, a curved scimitar, and a flail.  Fastred was glad Andunië's rigid resolve had hardened his muscles for Himbaláth was as ruthless as she, pressing him and spurring him on, teaching him stance and cuts and blocks.  When on one broiling summer afternoon Fastred at last pinned Himbaláth to the fence with the handle of a battle axe Himbaláth had laughed and said:

"Hold, enough!  Yes, I concede you are ready."  And at that he had sent Fastred back to Andunië, and when Fastred running back to the eastern courtyard looked over his shoulder he saw the scout chuckling and gathering up his various weaponry, and speaking in his light cheerful voice to Hwindiö, who had come out to watch, and who was laughing at his friend.  And when he returned to the mews and presented himself to Andunië she looked at him simply and said:

"Go to the nursery and get your bow."

Fastred ran breathlessly into the citadel and up the stairs to the towers; he ran past courtiers and secretaries and servants and burst into the nursery.  There seated at the window, looking out upon the courtyards, his pale hair pulled back with a leather thong, sat Legolas; his long legs were stretched out on the window-seat and in one slender hand he held Fastred's bow.  He turned when Fastred entered, panting and red-faced and startled, and regarded his charge gravely.

"So, O vassal, you have manned eyasses, and hunted, and learned to fight with a halberd," said Legolas, fixing the flustered boy with a steely look.  "You have grown at least an inch, and are become strong; you have I am told work without complaint and perform your sundry tasks with alacrity. Have you ever shot an arrow from horseback?"

"I – no, I – I have not, my lord," stammered Fastred, greatly perplexed; he had not seen his Lord Lassah since swearing fealty to him in the throne room, and had assumed he took no notice nor interest in Fastred's doings.  That Legolas seemed informed of his progress made him feel at once comforted and very nervous, for though he was delighted to have Legolas speaking to him again it was disconcerting to have his friend use such a stern and austere tone with him.

"Then I shall teach you," said Legolas, handing Fastred his bow and striding to the door without looking back.  "Come with me to the stables; we will tack up your horse, and you shall learn how your brothers the Rohirrim use their bows."

Fastred's heart twisted within him; could not Lassah at least give to him some friendly word or look?  "Father would I am certain be happy about teaching me," he thought with resentment, staring indignantly at the Elf's retreating back.  "He would not regard me as some slave or ignorant serving-boy.  Does not Lassah remember I am a prince?"  Then he recalled his flight from duty and his heart heaved again, but this time the bitterness was turned toward himself, and not his friend.  Thus perplexed and unhappy Fastred followed Legolas to the stables.

It was much harder to shoot from the back of a moving horse than Fastred had imagined; it was made the more difficult by Lord Legolas' steadfast refusal to speak to Fastred as a friend.  Fastred had hoped that with time Legolas would soften toward him, but to his chagrin his friend acted as though Fastred were naught but an insignificant charge in his care; his voice, which to Fastred had ever been warm and affectionate, was distant and businesslike; he rarely said anything except:  "Have a care, or you shall pierce your horse's ear, and he will not like that much," or, "Sit up straighter, Fastred of Ithilien, so that your left arm is parallel to the ground," or, "That was good loft, but try to hit the target next time."  Fastred wanted very much to beg Legolas to call him "Little One" or to speak to him with warmth and tenderness as had ever been his wont; however he thought of what Legolas might say should he so entreat him, and of a steadfast rejection; the thought was mortifying, so Fastred pressed his lips together and firmly refused to notice Legolas' detachment.  And Legolas, who watched his little vassal behind a carefully crafted mask of indifference, felt his heart wring within him when he descried the boy's proud courage veiling his pain and disappointment; it took all that was in him to hide his grief, and when he would dismiss Fastred to the mews went forthwith to Mistress Pearl to lay his head upon her lap and seek solace from her mother's heart once more.

After some weeks Fastred was able to strike the target four times out of five, even when Karakse would go charging wildly by it; at the end of that afternoon Legolas had called him off his horse and Fastred stood respectfully by Karakse's side, waiting for the inevitable cold praise and dispassionate comments.  But Legolas had instead but given him a keen look, and Fastred to his surprise saw in those gray eyes the barest hint of grief and pity.  Then he understood why his friend was treating him so:  Fastred had failed his family and friends, and this more than the labor was to be his punishment.  Holding back tears as best he could he let Legolas dismiss him; but as soon as he was able Fastred fled to the hayloft above the stables and sobbed as though his heart would break.

As the solstice approached Fastred became aware of a quickening in his mistress' manner; she pressed him the harder and was more apt to snap and growl when he failed to rise to her measure, and Fastred threw himself desperately into his work in order to forestall any show of temper. Himbaláth had declared himself satisfied; even Legolas had by that time admitted Fastred rode and shot "passing fair;" why would Andunië withhold approbation?  At last upon one sweltering steaming afternoon, when the inner courtyard shimmered with waves of heat and even the Elves perspired, Andunië looked upon what Fastred had done with the goshawk's roost and delivered a cold sharp comment upon his many deficiencies.  Fastred's youthful heart heaved with the injustice of it but remembering the ignominy of his debt he bit his tongue and lowered his eyes, not wishing the huntsmistress to see the seething rebellion housed therein.  He listened to her move about the mews, rearranging things and speaking in a low soft voice to her raptors; then she said:

"Well I do not know why we bother with this; it is apparent you shall never attain the rank to which you might aspire; you are not meant to be a huntsmaster."

Fastred did not reply; his throat felt tight, and his eyes stung with tears.  Yet he continued to work upon the offending roost despite the sweat that rolled down his forehead and into his eyes; his arms were sore, and his back too, and he very much wanted a drink of water from the dipper in the corner, but did not dare ask for Andunië when her ire was so raised was a terrible thing to behold.  He heard Andunië close off the eyasses' cage and walk up to him; the heels of her boots beat a sharp rattle on the wooden floor, and her leather gauntlets made a soft rushing noise as they brushed against her riding skirt.  Still did Fastred fix his eyes upon his work, not wishing her to see the indignation and hurt therein.  After all he had never sought to be a huntsmaster; he was here solely for penance for his misdeeds and not as an apprentice, and heartily wished he had never rebelled against his parents' edicts but accepted his lot as a prince of Rohan.

"And what have you to say, Fastred son of Faramir?" Andunië asked; her voice was very cold.  "How shall I answer my lord when he inquires of me your progress?  Are you not mindful your deportment reflects upon me and mine own labors?  You are making me appear incompetent before him! At this rate it shall be years ere you are capable of running even a kennel."

Fastred bit his lip hard, not wanting to reply; he could not say to her that it was beneath him to be a kennel-hand, for not only was he as Andunië under Lord Legolas' protection and rule, but to imply he outranked Andunië would be both insulting and ridiculous. He was after all merely a twelve-year-old mortal boy, and Andunië had, as he had heard from Tyarmayél, managed first King Thranduil's kennels in Eryn Lasgalen, and followed her brother Meivel to Dol Galenehtar to be Lord Legolas' huntsmistress after.  That she believed him solely capable of such menial labor made him all the more conscious of that from which he had so heedlessly run.  He thought of the great wooden throne in the Golden Hall, upon which he had seen his uncle the king hold court; he thought of the high-beamed ceiling carven and painted, and the gilt horse-heads hung upon the pillars, and the pierced golden crown resting upon Éomer's noble brow.  He looked down on his own hands, that had grown knotted and strong with his labor, and the muscular arms streaked with dirt and sweat, and tried to imagine instead of the lathe those same hands gripping the great broadsword girt upon his uncle's hip, tried to see himself swinging it aloft, astride a gray horse, crying out in a strange language to a fierce and adamant people, who likewise drew their swords and called out to him:  "Westú Fastred hál!"  But he had run from that glorious future and wound up a common kennel-hand instead.  It was not his parents' fault Éomer needed an heir; it was not his uncle's fault either, nor even his aunt's.  And it was certainly no fault of Legolas that a selfish, boorish, fickle boy had proved so untrustworthy that instead of thrones and scepters he was given a straw cot and a lathe.  At least he was being trained; at least he had learned to fight with halberd and axe and bow; that proved his inheritance was as yet secure, and taking small comfort from this Fastred took a deep breath and said:

"I shall not be a huntsman.  I shall not run a kennel.  I am not certain why I work here for you; I do not know why Lord Lass – Legolas has placed me here with you, for my hope is tied to my blood, and I belong elsewhere."  He glanced through his matted wet hair up at Andunië, who was regarding him darkly, her green eyes hooded.  "When the summer is ended and my servitude paid I shall go to my uncle in Rohan and learn there to be king – if – if he will yet have me."  These last words were uttered in a choked whisper, for Fastred knew well the shame he had heaped upon his family's head, and knew also it was not unheard of for a king to reject an heir who had proved himself unworthy.  That Éomer should after all deny Fastred his birthright was a very real possibility, and the boy's heart was heavy because of it.

After a moment's silence in which he was well aware of Andunië's silent presence whilst he worked to rectify his trifling error he heard a sigh, and glancing up at his mistress saw she regarded him if not with compassion then at least with clemency; she removed her heavy gauntlets, ran dirty fingers through her dusty copper hair and said with satisfaction:

"It is as my lord promised to me; you are ready at last."

She stepped forward and removed the lathe from his fingers, dropping it upon the bench beside him.  Then she took him by his shoulder and led him to the doorway of the mews.  Through it Fastred could see the dusty hot courtyard, undulating beneath the blazing sun; he could see here and there in the shadows of the outbuildings Elves and Men moving about, leading horses and carrying burdens and going about their business; then a lone figure detached itself from the doorway of the kennels and approached them where they stood in the shadows.  The sun kindled the pale hair and illuminated the white linen doublet until it was so bright tears pricked Fastred's eyes anew; at last the white disc of the shining face coalesced beneath the shade of the lintel, and Legolas stood there, his pale eyes bright with gladness and his arms outstretched.  Fastred gulped, his heart leaping within him; no longer was his beloved Lassah's face detached and cold; his mouth smiled and upon his countenance was a look of deep affection.  Fastred bolted into Legolas' arms which held him tight; he could hear the Elf's voice speaking, oddly dissonant, through his chest.

"At last, Little One – at last."  Then Legolas spoke to Andunië; Fastred was surprised to hear the Elf's voice tremble:  "Thank you, my child; your gift to me is beyond price."

"O I think not," said Andunië dryly.  "There is that litter of pups for sale at the village in Rammas – the weanlings sprung from the king's bitch out of that great deerhound of Lord Aldamir's.  Only one has been sold; there are five remaining still, or so I have heard."

Fastred heard Legolas chuckle into his ear.  "They are yours," he said, and released the boy; Fastred looked up at him, greatly perplexed, but filled with happiness to have Lassah restored to his usual disposition.  Legolas smiled down at him and took him by the hand.

"Come, Little One!" he said, and laughed; Fastred could hear the relief therein.  "This is no place for the prince of Rohan.  Let us go together to mine esquire, and he shall instruct you in the proper manner in which to prepare for tonight's banquet, and in this fashion he might also have ample opportunity to dress me as he likes, and bully me into wearing my heavy gold crown – that is a favorite of his after all!"

"I shall wear whatever Bandobras likes, so long as I might with him wait upon you, Lord Lassah," said Fastred earnestly, his heart soaring; to his delight Legolas laughed again and embraced him, and hand in hand they left Andunië standing in the mews as they went to make ready for the banquet.  And the huntsmistress watched them as they went, arms folded across her chest; her face was as ever impassive, but if one looked carefully one might descry a glint of satisfaction in her green eyes.