Disclaimer:  I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien but they belong to him.  I gain no profit from their use other than the enriched imaginative life that I assume he intended me to gain.

Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter.

*******

5.  Young Companions of the Hunt

“We do not need your adar,” Turgon asserted.  “We can go by ourselves.”

The other two stared at him open-mouthed.  “How would we do that?” Legolas demanded.  “I am not allowed out by myself at night, and the guards would see me.”

Turgon did not even need to pause to think of an answer. He was always frighteningly quick in planning mischief.  “You could stay at Annael’s for the night, and then both of you could sneak out after his parents go to sleep.”

“My parents would be furious!” Annael protested.

“Your parents would not know,” said Turgon practically.

“We would not be able to take the horses,” Legolas heard himself saying and knew that he sounded as if he was seriously considering how to sneak out and go hunting at night.  He was suddenly aware of a horrible certainty that they were going to do what Turgon suggested.  Turgon always sounded so plausible and so certain he was right that he was hard to resist.

“You could leave your horse at Annael’s too,” Turgon proposed.

Legolas shook his head. “I have to put my horse back in the stable every night, unless the stablemaster says he can stay out in the pasture.”

“We can go on foot then,” Turgon said, surrendering the possibility of riding.  “We came home that way when the raft was wrecked, and this time, we will be wearing shoes, so it will be easier.”

Annael and Legolas looked at one another, and Annael finally shrugged.  “When shall we go?” he asked resignedly.

“Soon,” said Turgon. “We have to go before Tynd and Riolith do.”

“I am allowed to stay at Annael’s only when we do not have training the next morning,” Legolas volunteered.  Annael’s parents and Thranduil all seemed to believe that the two of them did not sleep properly when they spent the night together, and Legolas had to admit that sitting up late playing and telling stories was part of the fun of staying with Annael.

Turgon thought for a minute. “So three days from now, you should stay at Annael’s. The moon will be bright then, even if it is not completely full.”  His eyes were gleaming with excitement.  “Do you think we could actually shoot the buck?” he asked, and Legolas was struck by his friend’s uncharacteristic lack of certainty.  Turgon needed to go hunting, Legolas decided. He and Annael should help him. They were, after all, encouraged to hunt and their parents’ fears about the night woods would surely be lessened if they knew that all three of them were together and were all carrying their weapons.

“I think we could,” he reassured Turgon.

“Come along you three,” called the blade master. Legolas looked up to see that he had returned to the fields and that the other students in their class were already ranged around him. They had been so absorbed in their plans that they had not noticed. “Bring your training swords and break into pairs,” the master ordered, “but not the same pairs you worked in last time.”  They scrambled to obey and spent the next two hours working hard. But at every break in the action, Legolas’s mind turned to thoughts of the deer hunt, and each time, he felt the same mixture of excitement and apprehension. Perhaps his father’s fears would be lessened by knowing that the three friends were hunting together with their big bows, but Legolas had no wish to try asking him if that would be so.

***

Ithilden stood on the dock and watched as the Men unloaded the boxes of swords and armor.  “When you get them to the armory, open the boxes and make sure everything is there,” he told the armorer who was also watching the proceedings. “Then distribute it according to the plan I gave you.”  The other Elf nodded and moved off to supervise the transport of the weaponry to the armory. Men continued unloading other goods that Thranduil’s steward had ordered in Esgaroth and that were now being delivered.  Among those on the deck, Ithilden saw Cadoc.  He beckoned and the Man leapt lightly from the barge to the dock.

“Where is Rudd?” Ithilden asked him. “I hope that he is well.”

“He is, my lord,” Cadoc answered.  “But he has other tasks for the Trade Council and thought that our dealings had been set on a firm enough footing that he could be more useful elsewhere.”

“Will you be here for a while?”

“We hope to be underway as soon as we have unloaded and received payment for the next shipment of Dwarven goods,” Cadoc answered.

Ithilden nodded. “Assuming that all is well, I will send you the coins shortly.  And you will be back in two weeks?”

“Yes, my lord, with the same sized order again.”

“Good.”  Ithilden moved off toward his office, thinking with satisfaction of the young warriors who would be safer and the enemies who would be in more peril because of the business that he was conducting this day.  He was grateful that things seemed to be going so well because he had had to argue long and hard to convince his father to take this step, and Thranduil was still not entirely happy about it.  Ithilden valued his father’s trust in his judgment and would have been most distressed to have to go to the king and admit that he had been wrong about the Dwarves’ reliability as providers of weapons.

***

Annael’s mother put the platter of fried fish on the table and sat down.  His father began putting fish and mushrooms and asparagus and bread onto Legolas’s and Annael’s plates.  Legolas usually liked eating at Annael’s house, although it was so different from eating at his own home.  At home, Legolas never knew what was going to be served for evening meal until it was put on the table in front of him.  In contrast, he and Annael had been sent to cut asparagus in the garden, and they had watched Annael’s father, Siondel, clean the fish he had caught.  Here they ate in the kitchen, where their evening meal had been sending increasingly tempting odors into the air for the last hour, and they did not have to wait for servants to leave before they could talk about anything.

Tonight, however, he felt tense enough over what he and Annael were going to do later that he was not very hungry and poked at the food on his plate without interest.

“How are you doing with your new bows?” Siondel asked.  He was a lieutenant in the Home Guard. Indeed, Legolas sometimes saw him checking on the guards at the palace. So he knew about archery and always asked how Legolas and Annael were coming along.

“Legolas put an arrow into the center of the target at the other end of the field today,” Annael piped up.

“Did you now?” Siondel asked, and Legolas blushed and nodded. “That is very good. Penntalion will have you in the older students’ class in no time at all.”  Legolas was pleased by that idea although he did not want to go to the other class without his friends and he did not think that Penntalion would send him alone anyway.

Annael’s mother had been watching them closely. “Is something the matter?  Neither one of you is eating.”

“Nothing is the matter,” Annael answered hastily and began shoveling fish into his mouth.

Siondel frowned at them too.  “You are not rebuilding the raft, are you? Remember, Annael, that you and I agreed you would keep it in the pond if you did.”

“We are not building one,” Annael protested.   Legolas glanced at his friend. He suspected that Annael had told his father more about the loss of the raft than Legolas had told Thranduil. But then, Siondel hardly ever lost his temper and took unexpected events in stride more easily that Legolas’s father did.  Legolas wondered how successful Annael would be at keeping the raft in the pond if he and Turgon and Legolas decided to rebuild it. Legolas would not mind; when he had had time to recover, he had felt proud of himself for handling the wreck of the raft well, but he did not want to repeat the experience any time soon. Turgon, however, was unlikely to agree to anything as tame as pushing a raft around a pond.

“Good,” Siondel said.  “Eat your meals.” Both of them made an effort to eat the food on their plates, and it really would have been quite good, if Legolas’s mouth had not been so dry.

Annael’s parents talked to one another about the events of the day as they finished the meal and then Legolas and Annael dried the dishes after Annael’s mother had washed them. When they were finished, Annael said, “Legolas and I are going to my chamber now, Nana.”

“Very well,” his mother said.  “Legolas, I found one of your undertunics in the laundry.  You probably mixed it up with Annael’s and wore his home the last time you stayed here.  Yours is on top of the chest in his chamber.”

“How do you know it is mine?” asked Legolas, to whom all undertunics looked pretty much alike.

She smiled at him.  “By the material from which it is made.”

Legolas frowned. “I do not know where Annael’s is,” he said with some concern.  He put his dirty clothes in a basket at home, and clean ones reappeared periodically. If Annael’s undertunic was among his things, he did not know it. “Perhaps he could just keep this one?” he suggested hopefully.  “I have others.”

Annael’s mother studied him with a small smile on her face.  “Very well. But if you find his, then we will trade back again. How is that?”

“Good,” Legolas agreed with relief and the two friends started toward the doorway but Annael’s mother called her son back and kissed his forehead, causing him to make a face at Legolas.

“Do not stay up too late,” she admonished fondly.

They looked at one another and made no response but made their way down the little hallway to Annael’s room.  Legolas was beginning to wish he had not agreed to this hunting trip, but it seemed too late to back out now. Turgon would be waiting for them an hour after moon rise.

“Should we try to sleep a little?” Annael asked tentatively.

“I am afraid we would not wake up in time,” Legolas answered.  They sat side by side, on the floor next to the bed regarding their big bows, which they had left in one corner of the room when they had come in earlier.

“We could read or draw,” Annael offered, and Legolas accepted the offer of drawing paper and charcoal.  They both lay on their stomachs sketching. Eventually they heard Annael’s parents go into the room across the hall and shut the door.  Gradually, the cottage became quiet, and at some point, moonlight began to filter in through the window.

Legolas turned his head to look at the window.  His own home was in a cave and it seemed to him that Annael was incredibly lucky to have a window through which he could look at the stars, and if he left it open, he could smell the night smells and hear the night birds and insects and the night song of the trees.

“It is time,” Annael said.  They looked at one another.  Were they really going to do this? Legolas wondered.   Of course they were, he admonished himself. Turgon was waiting. He got to his feet and picked up his bow.  After a second’s hesitation, Annael did the same thing. Then he opened the window and the two of them climbed over the sill and out into the night.

They slid noiselessly along the path leading eastward until they reached a stand of pine trees, where Turgon emerged from the shadows.  “I have been waiting forever,” he complained.

“Then you must have been early,” Legolas told him, a little annoyed.  Turgon made no protest, for he was obviously excited and eager to get on with things. By unspoken agreement, they leapt into the trees and began the long trip to the point where they had seen the deer prints near the river.  The trip took less time than Legolas had expected for they stopped in the woods a mile or so short of the water. They had come by horseback and scouted unsuccessfully here before, but tonight seemed full of promise.  Legolas suspected it was the dazzling array of stars overhead that was making him feel so exhilarated. He was allowed out at night so seldom that he really relished the experience now.

They dropped quietly to the ground. “Let us go toward the clearing we found last time,” Annael suggested and they began to move silently through the forest, checking for signs of their prey as they went.  The clearing was empty of deer, but they knew of another one and started toward it.  For an hour or more, they searched, gradually moving farther from the river, but they found nothing.

“I know we have to shoot from the ground,” Turgon finally said in a low tone, “but can we not at least search from the trees?”

Legolas blinked. “That is a good idea,” he said, wondering why it had not occurred to him before.  He supposed it was because Thranduil had never allowed it, for he had wanted Legolas to learn to track a deer and that was impossible to do in the trees. Tonight, however, they were simply looking in the spots where deer were likely to feed. “We can go through the trees toward the small meadow.”  They all moved into the branches and worked their way east.

They had just come within sight of the meadow when Legolas froze, causing the other two to halt beside him.  There in the meadow stood the largest deer Legolas had ever seen. He stood still as a statue, looking straight toward them and pitching his head to sniff at the wind currents.  Legolas had never seen a deer at night before and was struck dumb by the way the moonlight washed over him, giving him an ethereal quality.  He was alert though.  His ears rotated and, even from where Legolas crouched motionless, he could see that the hair on the deer’s back was standing up.  Legolas held his breath, willing the buck to relax and look away so that they could drop to the ground and draw their bows.

Suddenly, a faint sound reached Legolas’s ears.  Instantly, the buck made one leap, landing in a dense thicket and then melting away into the surrounding cover.  “No!” Turgon moaned.  He started to move forward to pursue the animal, but Legolas had been listening to the growing noise of someone approaching with heavy tread, and he put out a hand to restrain his friend.

The three of them had to wait no more than half a minute before a darkly cloaked figure came into the clearing.  With a suppressed start, Legolas realized that it was a Man who was now walking without hesitation to a fallen log on one edge of the meadow.  The Man crouched and seemed to grope around before pulling a long, cloth-wrapped bundle out from behind the log.  He fussed with the cloth for a moment, and Legolas caught a reflected gleam of moonlight and then a clash of metal that reminded him of noises from the training fields.  Then the Man clutched his bundle to him and disappeared again back the way he had come.

“Who was that?” Annael murmured.  Legolas shook his head. He did not know and he did not care.  Whoever the Man was, he had frightened the deer away and they were not likely to see it again this night.

Evidently Turgon had come to the same conclusion. “We might as well go home,” he cried unhappily.  “But did you see it?” he asked, turning to them. “Did you see how,” he groped for a word, “how kingly it was?”  Legolas stared at him.  Turgon sounded as if he had seen something magical, and perhaps he had, Legolas admitted to himself.  “We have to come back,” Turgon urged.  “Let us promise to come back.”

Turgon sounded so desperate that Legolas could not help himself. “Very well. We will come back.”

“We should go,” Annael said. Reluctantly, they shouldered their bows and began the trip home.  When they neared Thranduil’s stronghold, they slid down to the path again, and with a silent wave, Turgon went toward his own cottage.  Legolas and Annael crept silently around to where the window of Annael’s room still stood open to the darkened room within.  Annael scrambled over the sill first and then reached a hand down to haul Legolas in behind him. They stood together in the silent darkness.

Suddenly Legolas heard flint strike against tinder, and a lantern flared revealing Annael’s father sitting grim-faced in the chair next to the bed.  Legolas’s stomach tightened, and he felt Annael grip his arm convulsively.

“Where have you two been?” Siondel demanded, his voice harsher than Legolas had ever heard it.  Legolas blinked.  Siondel was one of Ithilden’s warriors, so Legolas knew he had to be brave, but just now, Legolas thought he looked as if he might be frightened.  Legolas glanced at Annael, who was licking his lips.  His friend’s face was pale but he answered steadily enough.

“We have been hunting, Ada.”

Siondel rose to his feet, frowning at him. “Hunting?  The two of you alone?  At this time of night?”

Annael took a step forward.  “Yes, for the big buck I told you about,” he said with an appeal in his voice that his father ignored.

“You crept out without telling anyone to go hunting in the forest at night?”  Siondel’s voice was sharp and Annael winced.  “Your naneth and I have been worried sick! I have been out looking for you and had no idea where you were.”   He scanned the two of them, with his hands clenching and opening again.  “Go to bed,” he said abruptly. “We will talk about this in the morning, Annael.”  He started through the doorway.

“Siondel,” Legolas called to him, and he looked back over his shoulder. “Are you going to tell my adar?”

Siondel gave a small, unpleasant smile. “No, I am not.”  Legolas sagged with relief, but it was short-lived.  “Tomorrow morning I am going to take you home, and you are going to tell him.”  Siondel left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Legolas and Annael looked at one another, dismay on both their faces.  “He is so angry,” Annael lamented, sitting forlornly on the edge of the bed.  He still clutched his bow, seeming to have forgotten he had it.  He looked worried and Legolas patted him on the shoulder.  But he could not keep his thoughts from what his own father’s reaction was likely to be to the account he would have to give in the morning.

He took Annael’s bow, unstrung it, and propped it together with his own in the corner.  Somehow what he and his friends had been doing had not seemed so bad to him.  They were allowed to hunt, even encouraged to.  And they could go into the woods if they were armed, although Legolas knew that he was not supposed go there at night, because Thranduil was convinced the woods were dangerous then.  But Legolas had never taken his father’s fears very seriously, for he had never heard of anyone being attacked in the woods so close to his home. And indeed, he thought, he and his friends had not seen anything dangerous. He supposed he had known from the start that sneaking out of Annael’s cottage was wrong, but it, too, had seemed a minor infraction until Legolas had seen how angry Annael’s normally easy-going father was.  If Siondel was so angry, what would Thranduil be like?

Annael had risen and was now stripping off his clothes.  Legolas did the same and then, still without speaking, Annael climbed sadly into bed.  From under his friend’s bed, Legolas dragged the pallet upon which he slept when he stayed here and lay down on it to try to sleep.  The question of his father’s reaction was one it was better not to think about.

***

Thranduil broke from his conversation with Ithilden, as the door to the dining room opened and Legolas came in, accompanied by Annael’s father. They stopped just inside the doorway and Siondel rested his hand on the child’s shoulder.  Legolas’s face was pale and apprehensive.

At the look on Legolas’s face, Thranduil half rose and he could see Ithilden, too, start in alarm. “What is the matter?” he asked.

“Legolas is well, my lord,” said Siondel hastily, “but he has something to tell you.” He glanced at Legolas, who looked back at him pleadingly.  Thranduil sank back in his chair.  Ah, he thought, he has been in trouble.  “I think it is better if I leave now, my lord,” Siondel said.

“Thank you for bringing Legolas home,” Thranduil said.  Siondel bowed to both Thranduil and Ithilden and left the room.

Comprehension had dawned on Ithilden’s face too. He rose. “Perhaps I had better go now, too, Adar.”  Thranduil gestured his permission and Ithilden left the room, patting Legolas sympathetically on the shoulder as he passed.  Thranduil found the gesture touching.  There were centuries between Ithilden and Legolas but when trouble came along, even trouble of their own making, they were brothers.

The door closed quietly behind Ithilden and Thranduil studied Legolas, who was chewing on the inside of his cheek and not meeting his father’s eyes.  Thranduil did not invite him to sit.  His experience as both king and father had taught him that it was wise not to encourage miscreants to make themselves too comfortable.   He let the silence stretch to an uncomfortable length.

“Come here, Legolas,” Thranduil commanded and the child came hesitantly forward to stand just in front of him with his eyes still on the floor. “Look at me,” Thranduil bid, and Legolas obediently raised his eyes. He looked frightened.  What could he have done? Thanduil wondered.  “What is this about?”

Legolas opened his mouth as if to answer but no sound came out.  He tried again. “We, that is, Turgon and Annael and I, we went hunting,” he finally managed to stammer out.

Thranduil raised one eyebrow.  “Is that what Siondel wished you to tell me?”

Legolas bit his lip.  “No. Yes. It is part of it.”

Thranduil waited, drumming his fingers on the table. “And what is the rest of it?”

Legolas looked down again and his answer was soft.  “We went out at night to hunt.”

Thranduil straightened in his chair.  “Siondel took you hunting at night?” he demanded in disbelief.

“No.”  Legolas looked as if he was going to burst into tears at any moment.  He drew a deep breath and suddenly spoke in a rush of words.  “We went out by ourselves. We climbed out Annael’s window and we went hunting for that big buck whose hoof print we saw. You remember, Adar.  The one you said honored the forest with its presence. And we saw it!” He looked up with something like awe in his face.

Thranduil sat immobilized by fear for a fleeting moment.  His sheltered, trusting child had deliberately walked into the dark woods that Thranduil’s warriors were unable to keep safe no matter how hard they tried. Then hot anger boiled up from his gut.  “Allow me to be sure I understand you correctly,” he said in a tight voice. “You snuck out of Annael’s house and went into the forest at night, something you are forbidden to do.  Moreover, in doing so, you committed a breach of trust against Annael’s parents, who were kind enough to have you as a guest in their home and trusted you. Is that correct?”

Now tears were flowing down his son’s cheeks. “I am sorry, Adar,” he said, his voice trembling.  “But we could not find the deer during the day, and we thought it would be out at night, and Tynd and Riolith are hunting it too.  We wanted to get it first.”

“Stop making excuses, Legolas,” Thranduil said sharply.  “Your behavior was inexcusable.”  He regarded the weeping child and then delivered his sentence. “You are confined to your chamber for a week, except for lessons, training, and meals. And tonight, when Siondel is likely to be at home, you and I will go to Annael’s cottage so that you can apologize to his parents.”

Legolas suddenly hurled himself at Thranduil and flung his arms around his father’s neck.  “Please do not be angry, Ada!” he pleaded, sobbing in earnest now.

Thranduil felt the anger seep out of him and he gathered his youngest son close.  “There, there,” he murmured.  “You frightened me, little one.  You will learn your lesson and then it will be over.”

Legolas said nothing, but only burrowed closer.

*******

Again, I thank everyone who is reading and especially those who review, whether from ff.net or www.storiesofarda.com, or via email.  I really enjoy knowing that you like the story.

Brenda G:   I think that Eilian and Legolas both see in their age-mates what happens when young Elves have inattentive parents. I suspect that Thranduil is not much fun sometimes, but he cares about the people they are becoming.  Thank you for the review. I love hearing from you even if it is “on the fly.”

Karen: Sorry, the swords are all spoken for! And Gelmir gets any that might not be claimed.  I think that all of Thranduil’s sons can probably channel him when they want to Well, maybe not Legolas yet.  It will be a few more years before he can stare down people like Turgon, I’m afraid.

Naneth:  If I were Eilian, I’d like getting letters from Legolas. He is a very sweet (if naughty) kid.

LKK:  Legolas is maturing pretty nicely, but he’s still a kid.  Turgon just makes it all seem so logical.

Bryn:  You’re right. Turgon may be whispering the ideas in the other kids’ ears but they seem to think those ideas sound like a good time.  And to me, Tinar is just an example of the natural arrogance of elves run amok.  Eilian is right. He needs to be kicked in the rear end regularly.

Nilmandra:  I’m glad you’re amused!  I spent years as one of very few women teaching in an engineering school.  Left to themselves, guys wouldn’t exactly wish Tinar harm, but they wouldn’t fall all over themselves to sympathize either.

Dot:  Yes, as you see, Thranduil was not amused. And I don’t actually know anyone as bad as Tinar. He is kind of fun to write because I can exaggerate his ego and have everyone’s jaw drop.

JustMe: My beta told me this chapter was funny, so I am glad you agree. I can never tell.  Thranduil’s sons’ friends provide much of the entertainment here.  I have decided that one reason I have trouble bringing Ithilden’s personality out is that I never gave him a friend.  But did you notice that the only one who didn’t get caught here was Turgon?

Dragon-of-the-North:  You must be almost done!!  I am afraid there is Orc fighting to come yet, but in the meantime, the warriors are joking around with one another.

Orangeblossom Took: The 100 spiders creeped me out. And you were right: the kids were headed for trouble. And actually, I think they may not be done yet. ;-)

Alice:  Thank you so much for saying that about the change in voice when I change point of view.  I have been trying to do that when I change to a child’s point of view and I can’t tell you how good it makes me feel that you noticed.

StrangeBlaze:  My beta said the chapter was funny too, and although that wasn’t exactly what I intended, I don’t mind.  I think the warriors are funny. They are so snarky!

Jebb:  Turgon is just full of bad ideas, isn’t he?   Thranduil must just rue the day that he and Legolas became friends. Ooh. A plot bunny! The day they met!

Caz-baz: You were right that it was Legolas and Annael who got caught!   Turgon just waltzed on home.

Karri:  Eilian is getting to be a good leader, which is nice to see.  He has to be captain of that patrol by the time Legolas becomes a novice because that’s how I wrote it.

Erunyauve:  Oh, good analysis of Turgon and Tinar. Tinar is lonely (and no wonder really).  And you are also right that Todith is deliberately developing Eilian’s leadership skills.  Clever reader!

Frodo3791:  So you must think that Eilian was restrained with Tinar, since he did not actually shoot him?  LOL  And you see here that Turgon’s idea has gotten Legolas and poor Annael into trouble (but not himself).

Bluebonnet:  I’m glad you like the Eilian chapter. I always hesitate to write these all OC chapters.  I wonder what someone who is new to the story must think.  And I am afraid that you hoped in vain that Legolas and Annael would resist Turgon.

TigerLily:  I don’t think that Tinar can blame his problems on Eilian. He was an idiot and everyone knows it, probably even the spiders.

Tapetum Lucidum:  The description you give of multi spider babies running off the mother is very disturbing!  And I’m glad you like good big brother Eilian.  He really does love the brat. It’s one of his more endearing qualities (and there are lots!).

Feanen: I’m glad you liked the Eilian stuff.  I always worry about the chapters that are mostly OC.

Draekon:  You cannot imagine how hard it was to stamp all the “fires” out of this chapter. My beta liked your suggestions so she looked for them (and found them) and I had tried to avoid them too. In the long run, I had to run a global search. Eilian is safe, at least for a while. I have a nice sexy bonding fic planned for him.

JastaElf:  Tinar is a real pain in the butt.  And I too am charmed by the idea of Eilian doting on Legolas. I think of Eilian as someone who loves easily and I think kids can sense that. He’s maternal (in good, non-Mpreg way!).

Legolas4me:  I, too, believe that Legolas comes from a loving family. I don’t think he would be the person he is in the books if he had not been raised with love.

Fadesintothewest:  It’s so good to have you back on line!  I have never been hunting and have no wish to go, but I think that the elves lived off the forest and perhaps had a reverent relationship with it, like some Native American tribes are said to have had.

Dy:  You were right to have a bad feeling about the hunting trip.  But at least they did not get far enough from home to run into the Southern Patrol.  That would have been very bad!

Luin: You are much too conscientious.  Reading at work is probably good for morale. ;-)  I’m glad you noticed the slightly more angsty Eilian. Shadow is weighing on him and the others and they use humor to combat it.   As for the little guys, well, it was Turgon’s idea, so you knew what would happen.  And I think that in Turgon’s case, hacking at the ground is good, because the blunter his sword is, the better!

LA:  It would be very interesting to write about Legolas’s family during the time of the quest. We know that Sauron’s forces attacked Mirkwood and burned a lot of trees, so Thranduil and Legolas’s brothers had problems of their own. It would make a powerful and grim story, I think. Thank you for letting me know you enjoy the stories.

Yllyn:  Thank you for the kind words. They mean a lot coming from you.  In all truth, the Legolas I like to write about the best is an adolescent.  That seems to me to be a time of possibilities and problems.  And that’s odd, actually, because I have no desire to be around an adolescent for very great stretches of time, I must admit.