Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this story for me.  Happy birthday, Karen.  You too, Elliska.

Chapter 1. The Wager

Arms stretched wide, Eilian shuffled to his left, all his weight on the balls of his feet, ready to dart in and wrestle Fendîr to the ground the minute the other novice gave him an opening.  Fendîr crept cautiously to his own left, his mouth pursed in concentration.  Eilian grinned and waggled his fingers.  "Come on.  We have been at this long enough.  Time to go home."

From the corner of his eye, Eilian saw Maldor, the unarmed combat master, put his hands on his hips.  He suppressed a grimace.  It would be just like Maldor to keep them late because Eilian said it was time to go home.  Too bad.  The sun Eilian was trying to get out of his eyes told him they had already drilled past the time they normally stopped.

He glimpsed the slight flexing of Fendîr knees just before the other novice hurled himself forward to grab Eilian's left wrist.  Fendîr's left foot shot out, trying to hook Eilian's ankle.  Eilian leapt over the hooking foot and twisted his hand in Fendîr's grip to seize the hand holding his.  For a moment, they grappled. Then Eilian twisted, flipping Fendîr over his hip.  The novice landed hard on his back.  Eilian crowed and stepped back, arms raised.

Fendîr blinked up at him from his place in the dirt.  He inhaled, filling lungs that had emptied in a whoosh when he landed.  "Good throw," he wheezed.

Eilian could not resist throwing a triumphant glance at Maldor, who returned a level, narrow-eyed look that Eilian recognized with an unpleasant twinge in his gut.  Now what?

"Eilian," Maldor said, "what have I told you about grabbing someone's wrist if he already has a grip on yours?"

Eilian searched the litter in his memory, trying to dig up whatever Maldor-given advice he had shoved aside.  "You showed us how to do it."

Maldor drew a long breath.  "What else?"

Eilian chewed his lip.  An unwelcome scrap of information wriggled into his mind, like a bug crawling out from under a pile of kindling when the fire began to grow hot. "You said if it was done incorrectly, my opponent could break my wrist.  But," he added, "I did it correctly."

Maldor's mouth set in a thin line.  "I showed you that move once, and I said you are not to use it yet, something you would have known had you paid attention."

Behind Maldor, the other novices shuffled their feet and looked anywhere but at Eilian.  His face grew warm, and his chest swelled at the master's unfairness.  "I did pay attention.  You saw I did the move just as you showed us."

His friend Gelmir raised his eyes from the ground to shoot a wide-eyed look at Eilian.

Maldor took a step toward Eilian.  "Are you arguing with me?"

The question was one Eilian's father occasionally asked, and he had eventually learned it had only one possible answer.  Eilian kept his voice even and his face blank.  "No, Master."  At least, he did not think he was.  Not really.

"Master?"  A first-year novice had materialized unnoticed at Maldor's elbow.

"What is it, Seor?"  Maldor scowled at him.

The knob in Seor's throat bobbed.  "Lómilad sent me to ask if you were coming to the meeting.  The other training masters are all waiting."

Maldor waved his hand.  "Tell him I will be along directly."  Seor scurried away, and Maldor once again aimed his attention at Eilian.  "You pull one more stunt like that, Eilian, and I will assume you have somehow missed learning basic discipline and set you to training with the newest novices.  You may all go."  He strode off the field toward the novice masters' hut.

Most of the group disappeared as quickly as they could.  Gelmir and Fendîr came to stand next to Eilian, who still glared after Maldor.  "What a horse's behind," Eilian said.

Gelmir grimaced.  "You should take care, Eilian. He will carry out his threat if you cross him again."

Fendîr grinned.  "And an excellent thing that would be.  I am tired of having my face ground into the dirt.  You will be a better person for letting the younglings chew on your ankles for a while, Eilian."

Eilian laughed, but to himself he vowed to follow Gelmir's advice and follow the path of caution, assuming he could find it.  Being sent to train with the youngest novices would be more humiliating than Eilian cared to think about.  He would never be able to explain to his parents how maddening Maldor was, and of course, Ithilden would know all about it, a thought that made Eilian squirm.  His friends had no idea how fortunate they were that the troop commander was not also their brother.  Ithilden had been far too 'commanding' for Eilian's comfort even before he became a novice.

He, Gelmir, and Fendîr started off the training field and along the path toward home.

"There is Celuwen."  Gelmir nodded toward a path coming from the left to cross the one they were on.  "She must have had to work with Alfirin again."  They halted.

"What is wrong with working with Alfirin?"  Fendîr eyed the two approaching maidens.  "She is quite pretty."

Gelmir grinned.  "I doubt if Celuwen cares about the pretty part, and she seems to find Alfirin uninteresting.  No doubt she misses me and Eilian.  We are far more amusing."

Eilian watched the two maidens coming toward them.  Celuwen had her head tilted to hear what Alfirin was saying, but she caught sight of Eilian and smiled faintly at him.  Whatever Alfirin was talking about was apparently a serious matter to her, for her look was earnest.

Eilian weighed Fendîr's claim that Alfirin was pretty.  He had to admit there was something appealing about her sweet solemnity.   Like opaque water, it filled him with an urge to learn just how deep it ran.  She fell silent when she and Celuwen drew near Eilian and his friends.

"Mae govannen," Eilian said.  "How goes the lembas grain harvest?"

"Slowly," Celuwen said, "since we cannot use a blade to cut it."

"You have been working hard."  Fendîr's voice was almost unrecognizable in its warmth as he addressed Alfirin.  Gelmir rolled his eyes at Eilian.

"The result will be worth the effort though," Alfirin said.  "With the Shadow's return, our warriors are away longer, and my naneth says lembas nourish the wounded like no other food."

Eilian smiled at her.  "Never think we do not appreciate what you lembas maidens do.  The fruits of your labor feed us and heal us.  What more could we ask?"

"'Us'?"  Celuwen raised a finely arched brow.

Alfirin met his gaze with a level look.  "Your naneth says lembas are a gift from Yavanna, and we are blessed to share in making them."

Eilian had the distinct feeling he was being rebuked, a feeling that sharpened its bite when Gelmir grinned at him from behind Alfirin's back.

"I will see you tomorrow, Celuwen," Alfirin said.  "Good day to you all."  She crossed the path they were on and took another that led to her home.

As soon as she disappeared among the trees, Fendîr snickered.  "Could she have been less impressed?"

"I do not see how," Celuwen said cheerily.

"She admires you as much as Maldor does," Gelmir said.

"She could be brought around," Eilian said.

Fendîr and Gelmir both hooted.  "She would rather dance with a Dwarf," Fendîr said.

Eilian could not help being stung.  "I will wager a set of swan feather that she could."

Fendîr pursed his lips.  "What do you mean 'brought around'?"

Eilian's mind whirred.  "She will give me a kiss."

Celuwen gave a smothered exclamation, and Fendî and Gelmir both guffawed.  "She does not kiss anyone," Gelmir said.

"Of course not," Celuwen said. "She takes serious things seriously."  Her cheeks had gone pink.

"Will you really wager the feathers?" Fendîr asked.  "If you will, I have some very nice arrow points I would wager against them.  We would have to set a time limit though."

"Any limit you like," Eilian said.

"Three days."  Fendîr smiled blandly.

Eilian hesitated only long enough to decide he could not back down now, not unless he wanted Fendîr to hound him until they were both a hundred.  "Done.  Celuwen, what was she talking about so intently when you two were walking?"

"Weaving.  She wants to weave a wall hanging showing an ear of lembas grain, but she fears it will be difficult to capture the feathery look."  Celuwen's eyes narrowed.  "Are you planning to talk to her about that as a way to 'bring her around'?"  She ran her gaze over the three of them.  "You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

Gelmir touched a finger to his chest.  "What did I do?"

"It is only a kiss," Eilian said, although seeing how upset Celuwen was, he wondered if perhaps he had gone too far.

She brushed past him and stalked off down the same path Alfirin had taken.

"Will we see you at the river tonight?" he called after her.

"Probably," she answered over her shoulder.  "Unless I decide to find someone to kiss, because after all it would only be a kiss."

"Go ahead."  He turned to his friends.  "She never would."  He looked for confirmation to Gelmir, whose eyes were on Celuwen's dwindling back.

"Probably not."  The corners of Gelmir's mouth twitched.  Eilian assumed he found Celuwen's threat as amusing as Eilian did.

"Three days then," Fendîr said.  "I look forward to having the swan feathers."

Eilian grinned.  "Losing those arrow points will teach you the perils of wagering."

They all laughed and started again for home.

***

Eilian hurried into the dining room to find both his parents already there.  His father had evidently just arrived, and his mother was smoothing out the collar of Thranduil's tunic.  Thranduil caught her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.  She smiled, then turned to greet Eilian and scan the green silk tunic he had put on to wear to the river.  "Are you going out, my sweet?"

"Yes."  He shot a quick look at his father.  "Just to hear the music along the river."  Thranduil nodded, and Eilian relaxed.

The door banged open, and Ithilden strode into the room, his hair still damp from the bath.  "I am sorry I am late.  The novice masters wanted to talk about the autumn exercise."

Eilian watched him from the corner of his eye, wondering if Maldor had told Ithilden about their encounter that afternoon, but Ithilden took his place serenely when Thranduil nodded permission.  Eilian sat too.

The servants must have been watching for Ithilden's arrival, because two of them now entered the room with platters of venison and fried mushrooms.  They circled the table, putting food on the plates, then set the platters down and left the room.

"How was your day, Lorellin?"  Thanduil cut a piece of meat.  "Is the lembas grain harvest going well?"

"The maidens are working so hard," she said.  "They will probably finish gathering the grain tomorrow.  Then they can grind it the next day spend the night in the forest, seeking Yavanna's blessing to make the bread at sunrise."

Eilian had frequently heard his mother talk about teaching maidens to make lembas.  She had charge of storing the lembas and distributing them, but only the lembas maidens could handle the grain and make the treasured bread.  Of course, the bread had become even more valuable in the last few years since the return of the Shadow, and the Wood Elves never had a huge supply.  The grain would not grow in shade, so Thranduil's people planted it in sunny glades, and ones that were large enough were not numerous.

Ithilden swallowed a mouthful of mushrooms.  "When the lembas are ready, Naneth, I would like to talk to you about where they will do the most good."

"Of course.  Eilian took a message Belówen this morning asking him to let me know how much they need in the infirmary.  Once he tells me that, I will know how much is left for your patrols."

Eilian's fork stopped halfway to his mouth.  "I am sorry, Naneth, but I forgot."

"Forgot to deliver the message?"  Thranduil straightened his already erect back.

"Yes," Eilian said.  "I will do it first thing tomorrow."

"You will do it tonight," Thranduil said.

"But Belówen will have gone home."

"Then that is where you will go too."

"But I am supposed to meet Gelmir along the river."

Thranduil rapped the blunt end of his knife on the table.  "Are you arguing with me?"

Eilian suppressed a sigh.  How many times could he answer that question in one day?  "No, Adar.  I just do not see why it cannot wait until tomorrow."

"It cannot wait because you agree to be responsible for doing it, and carrying out that responsibility is more important than any plans you might have."

Eilian glanced at his mother.  Sometimes she intervened if she thought his father was being too hard, but all she did now was watch him with grave attention.  He grimaced.  "I will take the message tonight."

"Thank you, Eilian," his mother said.

His father had opened his mouth to speak, but now looked at her from under lowered lids, and ate a forkful of venison instead.  Her mouth curved in a secretive smile Eilian had never seen her give anyone but his father.

Ithilden said, "The stablemaster tells me your mare's foot is healing well, Naneth."

"It is."  She turned to him with eager warmth.  "I should be able to ride her in another day or two."

Eilian slid a fried mushroom around his plate.  Belówen lived in the opposite direction from where Elves would gather to sing and harp along the river.  He popped the mushroom into his mouth.  That was all right.  He would simply have to hurry.  He really should have remembered the message earlier anyway.

***

Eilian strode along the riverside path, scanning the sheltered spots among the trees for his friends.  Music flowed over him as he passed groups of Elves out enjoying the summer night.  As always, Eilian was amused by the way the groups all blithely sang or played different songs.  Somehow, the songs seemed to bend at the edges to accommodate one another, with the trees and even the river adding strands to the woven fabric of the music.

"Over here, Eilian," Gelmir's voice called, and Eilian spotted a small knot of young people lounging on blankets beneath a friendly maple.  He climbed a slight hill to join them.  Gelmir sat cross-legged next to Celuwen.  Fendîr leaned against the maple on Celuwen's other side, and next to him, sat Alfirin, her legs tucked demurely under her.  She looked nearly as surprised to find herself among them as Eilian was to see her there.

"You are late," Gelmir said.

"I had an errand to run."  Eilian dropped to the ground next to Alfirin and smiled at her.  "I hope I am not too late to hear the best music."

Alfirin tugged her skirt away from him, as if she were afraid he would somehow catch it and use it to pin her down.  Her mouth gathered in a prim little rosebud that made Eilian itch to coax it open.  "I believe the music usually goes on most of the night," she said.

Fendîr grinned at Eilian over her head.

Eilian tried again.  "Celuwen says you are a weaver."

Her shoulders relaxed by the width of an eyelash.  "I am."  She hesitated.  "Did she tell you I am working on a wall hanging of an ear of lembas grain?"

"She did.  It must be a challenging subject."

She actually leaned a little toward him.  "It is, but I have some beautiful golden-brown thread that is just the color of the grain."  Her eyes widened in her enthusiasm.

Celuwen rose abruptly.  "Gelmir and I are going to walk a little in that direction."  She pointed vaguely.  "Someone is playing a harp."

Gelmir snapped his mouth shut and hastily got to his feet.  "We will be back."

"No need to hurry," Eilian said.

Gelmir laughed and trotted after Celuwen, who had not waited for him.

"Fendîr," Eilian said, "did you not tell me you and Gîl-Garion were playing Danger in the Dark tonight?"

"I do not think so."  Fendîr wriggled, settling himself more comfortably. "You must be mistaken."

Eilian suppressed a desire to grab Fendîr's ankle and drag him down the hill to the river.  Alfirin did not strike him as the kind of maiden who would be impressed by that.  "Are you sure?  If Gîl-Garion is hiding somewhere, waiting for you, then it would be unfair of you not to play your part."  Eilian bent forward to look around Alfirin at Fendîr.  "I know you would never want to play a game unfairly."

Fendîr's teeth flashed white in the darkness.  "You know me, Eilian.  "I always play fair, but I see no reason to give the game away."

Eyes narrowed, Alfirin looked from Eilian to Fendîr and back again.

Eilian swallowed the words trembling on his tongue and smiled at her.  He would let the music soothe her for a while, he decided.  Fendîr obviously had no intention of moving, and Eilian would not help his own cause by making Alfirin more wary.

He stretched out on his elbow, watching her from the corner of his eye and letting his thoughts drift.  Unfortunately, the first image that swam to the surface of his mind was Maldor's scowling face, followed closely by the stiffening of Thranduil's back when he learned Eilian had forgotten to deliver his mother's message.  Eilian sighed and rolled onto his back with one arm flung over his eyes.  What point was there to prodding at the soreness still lingering from his father's and Maldor's disapproval?

A sweet soprano rose from beside him, as Alfirin joined in a song.  Eilian lowered his arm and gazed up through the lace of leaves at the stars, thick as winter snowflakes in the night sky.  She had a sweet, true voice.  He turned on his side to face her and began to sing a counterpoint.  She glanced at him, her mouth still rounded in an O as she held a note, but her eyes softening into a smile.  He smiled as well as he could while continuing to sing too.  Approval could come from pretty maids as well as parents and masters, and Eilian had found that feminine approval could spread balm on many a wound.

TBC