Chapter 5: The evil was not yet known for what it was

The power of Sauron, servant of Morgoth, was then again growing in the world, though the Shadow in the Forest that looked towards Moria was not yet known for what it was. Appendix A

Legolas ducked as the orc closest to him swung its sword at his head. The blade whistled through the air above him, its momentum pulling the orc off balance. Legolas dropped to his knees, pulling frantically at the armor that was wedged against his sword, trapping it pinned under the last orc he had killed. Galithil and Tulus's legs still danced around either side of him, fighting the remaining orcs. His father was now motionless at his side, an orc draped partly over his body. On the orc's other side, Legolas spotted his father's sword. Letting go of his own, Legolas dove for it, seizing it in time to position it, tip down in the earth, to block a blow that another orc aimed at him. Legolas pushed himself up and swung a cleaving blow at that orcs legs. But orcs were still coming at him and Tulus and Galithil from all directions.

"Back to back," Tulus called, positioning himself with his back turned to Legolas. Galithil nodded and did the same, at an angle with Tulus, so that they now stood facing the orcs in three different directions. The orcs continued to come at them from all three.

Legolas was positioned so he could see his mother, grandfather and Galuauth. They stood in a formation similar to the one Legolas, Galithil and Tulus were in, still fighting. Legolas did not have time to count how many orcs were around them. He swung at the orc approaching him, but the orc parried the blow, their swords clanging together so forcefully that the revertebration down the blade hurt Legolas's hand. The orc closed in on him, trying to push him back. Legolas threw his full weight against the much heavier orc, their blades locked between them. Legolas had been holding his sword in both hands, fearing he would not be strong enough to wield it with only one. Now he let go of the hilt with his left hand and pulled out the knife on his belt. He drove it under the orc's armor and it fell back, staggering, wounded, but not mortally so. Legolas raised his sword in his right hand and drove it down on the orc's shoulder--still not a mortal wound, but enough to put it permanently out of the fight. It fell back.

Legolas glanced again towards his mother and grandfather. Nana was pulling her sword out of an orc, daeradar sliced through one's legs and Galuauth was keeping two other orcs at bay while they both prepared for another onslaught. 'Nana fights well!' Legolas was relieved to see.

A loud clang sounded in Legolas's ear. It was Tulus parrying a blow that would have taken Legolas's head.

"Focus!" he shouted at him, sounding exactly like Langon, Legolas's swords master.

Legolas automatically turned his full attention back the the battle and buried his sword into the gut of the orc that had just swung at his head. Then he pulled it out with all his strength and swung it down to cut the legs from underneath the orc aiming at Tulus. They fell into their respective positions, back to back again.

As Legolas parried another blow, he heard hard, panting breathing that did not sound like an orc. It was his own, he realized as the orc drove down his sword more easily than any other had before. He kicked the orc currently attacking him hard in the knee and heard the joint snap. Then he hooked the back of the orc's other leg with his foot to pull it off balance, plunging his knife in its throat as it fell back. It collapsed to the ground, spurting blood. Legolas hefted his sword, readying for another attack. He could not do this forever. His arms were quickly weakening with fatigue. Galithil's gasping breaths signaled that he was tiring as badly as Legolas.

Legolas dared to expand his focus from the few feet directly in front of him to the battle field in general for long enough to scan it. There were still at least ten orcs around he and Galithil and that many again around nana and daeradar. They could not possibly win this.

Galithil loosed a pained scream. Legolas spun around to look at him. His blade was positioned for a hanging block to counter a high attack, but he did not have the strength to hold the block. His blade had turned and the orc's blow fell, carving flesh to the bone of his leg. Galithil fell to his knees.

At the same moment, Legolas saw movement in the brush to the south from the corner of his eye. His heart contracted in fear. If there were still more orcs coming, all hope was truly lost.  An arrow flew towards nana and daeradar, missing nana only because she was driven forcefully back while parrying an orc's blow.

A remaining orc archer was hidden in the brush!

Another arrow swiftly followed the first one, this time missing Nana because Galuauth pushed her aside. It struck him, knocking him back against the tree where they had originally sheltered. He struggled to get up, but was struck by an orc across his thigh. That orc pressed its advantage, raising its sword to attack Lindomiel. She thrust her sword straight into its gut, let go of it without even bothering to try to retrieve it and reached for Galuauth's sword in his limp hands.

Legolas's eyes darted between his mother and the brush as another arrow flew, this time striking the tree above Galuauth's head. Legolas thought he saw movement in the brush--the hidden orc archer. But he had no more arrows. Definitely the archer! Legolas could see the arm of a long bow and an arrow. It tracked his mother's movements as she fought another orc. Legolas searched the ground for any undamaged arrow and his eyes fell on his father's quiver--his full quiver. Legolas dove under the swing of the orc attacking him, dropped the knife in his left hand and reached for an arrow. Seizing one, he dropped the sword in his right and reached for his bow. Just as he nocked an arrow against his bow string, the hidden archer released the arrow Legolas had seen aimed at his mother. Legolas drew and released his arrow.

His mother's voice loosed a terrible scream. At the same time, Legolas heard a squeal from the underbrush where the orc archer was hidden. He also heard the call of a screech owl--the call the patrols used to signal danger. A patrol was approaching!

"Legolas!" Tulus's voice called.

Legolas looked towards the voice and saw an orc looming over him from behind. He felt a flash of blinding pain and then felt nothing.

*~*~*

Dolgailon walked silently. Occasionally, Ostarndor would exchange a word or two with Morillion, but generally speaking, everyone remained quiet, largely, Dolgailon suspected, out of nervousness. Even within sight of the protective eaves of the forest, they were uncomfortable walking openly across the plain. Of course, they knew what had been streaming out of the forest and onto the plain, and therefore, had every reason to be uneasy.

As they approached the forest, they scanned its edge for dangers. Dolgailon saw none. Strangely, he saw nothing at all.

Approaching openly as they were, they had been visible to the border patrols for a long while. It might make sense that they had heard no signal warning of the unknown figures' approach while the patrols waited to determine if they were friend or foe, but by now the patrols should have recognized their captains, troop commander, and the guards and signaled their arrival. But the forest's edge was silent.

"Where is your patrol?" Dolgailon whispered to Ostarndor.

Ostarndor shook his head without looking away from the forest.

"By now, we should have been recognized and greeted. I think we should stop and devise a way to evaluate this," he ordered. "Something is wrong."

No one questioned him. Everyone stopped.

"Something moves! There!" Morrillion whispered, pointing.

"A large animal?" Galudiron said. "A buck? A very large buck?"

Colloth stepped a few paces closer to the forest and shook his head. "A horse. It is a horse," he declared as the animal wandered closer still to the edge of the forest.

Dolgailon, Colloth and Galudiron took several running steps forward. "It is the Queen's mare!" Colloth and Dogailon whispered in unison. They exchanged confused and slightly panicked looks. Dolgailon whistled for the horse. It looked up, startled, swiveling its ears in the direction of the whistle. Then it cantered straight to Dolgailon like a puppy, happy to see its master.

Dolgailon reached for its headstall and smoothed its nose.

"What is the Queen's mare doing here?" Dolgailon asked.

"I see two more horses," Ostarndor called. Then he imitated the call Dolgailon had made a moment before. Those two horses trotted obediently out onto the plain. One of them heavily favored its left front leg.

"Is that..." Colloth began, cutting himself off and looking sharply at Dolgailon.

Dolgailon nodded. This was the King's horse.

"He is wounded," Morillion said. "Bleeding down his left flank." He caught the horse's headstall at its approach. "An arrow wound," he confirmed, also looking back at Dolgailon. "Clean entry and exit wounds here," he indicated the muscle around the stallion's point of the shoulder. "He is frothed. Very hot."

Dolgailon, flanked by Colloth and Galudiron, crept slowly under the eaves of the forest, alert for any sign of what might be happening. Morillion and Ostarndor took up positions one to the north and one to the south of Dolgailon and followed slightly behind him.

"Too quiet," Dolgailon whispered.

"The trees here are uneasy," Ostarndor replied. "Something evil is nearby."

A short, pained, yelp sounded faintly, from deeper in the forest.

Dolgailon ran towards it.

Another, louder and distinctly feminine scream sounded.

Dolgailon made the call of a screech owl, signaling for any patrols that might be within hearing to come to his aide. He could now hear the sounds of battle, and snarling orcs, coming from the same area where he had heard the screams. He ran, sword in one hand, knife in the other, straight towards the sounds. As he approached, he caught sight, through the trees, of a golden-haired form, fighting four orcs. One orc held the elf against itself, its arm across the elf's chest. Numerous other orcs were pressed in close, but the elf--too slender to be the King--still had a knife.

Dolgailon stopped dead for moment, in shock. When the elf slashed out with the knife, the motion flung her hair off her face. It was Aunt Lindomiel! Dolgailon rushed towards her, dodging between the trees, oblivious now to anything else.

Lindomiel's knife caught one of the orcs across its throat. It staggered back, clutching at its neck as blood spurted through its fingers. The other orcs around her laughed. One grasped for the hand that held the knife and missed. It reached for her again with its other hand and Lindomiel drove the knife into that hand. The orc grunted in pain, but it closed its fingers around the blade of the knife embedded in its palm and twisted it from Lindomiel's grasp. With its uninjured hand it pulled its own knife, pressed it against her face, and drew it down. Lindomiel's hands flew up and gouged the orc's eyes with her thumbs. It staggered back. The orc holding Lindomiel shifted its grip on her. It caught one of her hands by the fingers and twisted, dragging that arm down and pinning it against her body. Another orc grabbed her free wrist with one hand and reached for the neckline of her dress with the other. All the orcs around her began to snort with laughter.

Dolgailon loosed noise that was in part a call and in larger part an animalistic snarl, to draw their attention.

A few--possibly five--of the orcs on the outside of the circle around Lindomiel spun around and brandished their swords. The ones most closely surrounding her began trying to drag her off. She fought, kicking them where ever she could land a blow as they pulled her off her feet. But they began to make good their escape.

Dolgailon signaled for Morillion and Ostarndor to flank the orcs that had turned to face them and pursue the ones with the Queen. As they made to do so, the orcs spread out to cut them off.

Raising his sword for a high blow, Dolgailon finally met the line of orcs. The orc before him managed to dodge his first blow, but stepped off balance. Dolgailon pivoted to aim his upswing at the orc's midsection. He connected and the orc doubled over. At the same moment, Dolgailon heard the call of a sparrow hawk. He looked in that direction. More orcs were approaching from the south.

Dolgailon's heart stopped. Behind the new line of orcs charging towards him, on all fours, clutching a fairly serious wound in his side with one hand...that could not possibly be... Dolgailon raised his sword to parry the blow of the orc rushing him. Then he looked back at the elf he had spotted a moment before. It was! Tulus! Tulus had made that call.

Worse, there were three figures, all motionless, on the ground around Tulus. All had the golden-silver hair of the House of Oropher. Dolgailon's mind refused to acknowledge that. But the King's stallion was one of the horses that had led them here. It was unthinkable that the King might be one of the elves lying next to Tulus. And Tulus's presence suggested... It was completely impossible that Legolas might be here, in the south, in a battle. Much less could he be lying unconscious. And Dolgailon did not even want to give thought to who the other figure might be, if Legolas were indeed here.

A scream from behind him caused Dolgailon to look over his shoulder. The orcs had pulled Lindomiel a good distance away and now one was running, carrying her flung over its shoulder.

Colloth had managed to break through the line of orcs between them and the Queen. He was running towards her, but two of the orcs around her broke off their retreat to meet his charge. Ostarndor and Morillion were engaged with two orcs each. Galudiron had just killed one of the orcs attacking he and Dolgailon, but three more surrounded them. Dolgailon swung at the legs of the orc closest to him. They needed to make fast work of these orcs before the ones carrying Lindomiel escaped, or cut their losses and simply killed her. He parried a blow aimed at his head, bore the orc's sword down, then drove his own up, under the orcs armor and into its gut. He wrenched his sword free. Galudiron was finishing another orc. Morillion and Ostarndor were down to one a piece.

His captains could finish this. Dolgailon turned and ran to help Colloth, who was now trying to get past the last orcs that stood between them and the ones carrying away the Queen. As he ran, the orc carrying Lindomiel, stopped, turned and looked at him, baring its teeth.

Dolgailon dodged around Colloth and the orcs he was fighting, pounding after the Queen as fast as he could, his foot steps almost sounded like horses.

The orc threw Lindomiel to the ground and laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. Lindomiel grunted as her head connected with a tangle of roots, but she got her hands underneath herself and was trying to rise or at least scramble away as the orc drew his sword.

Dolgailon stopped and reached for his bow. He knew he could not possibly reach his aunt before the orc's blade fell, but now that she was on the ground, he had a clear shot.

The orc raised its sword over the Queen and Dolgailon's fingers closed on an arrow in his quiver. No time. Not enough time, Dolgailon thought.

Suddenly, the orc standing over Lindomiel jerked sideways, and was flung to the ground, it sword flying wildly behind it. An arrow protruded from its side under its arm.

The remaining orcs surrounding Lindomiel, spun to face north and screeched in terror. They broke and ran, but a rain of arrows dropped them all.

Dolgailon stared at them, the arrow he had drawn from his quiver, still nocked against his bow. Four horses emerged from the trees and surrounded Lindomiel. Hallion rode one. The three elves with him, Dolgailon did not recognize.

Dolgailon looked behind him. Colloth was finishing the last of the orcs around him. Galudiron hamstrung the one he fought with a low swing of his sword. It fell, writhing to the ground. Morillion and Ostarndor finished two more orcs a few dozen paces away. Dolgailon turned full circle, looking for other enemies. There were none. It was over.

"My lady, you must stay here!" shouted one of the elves that Dolgailon did not recognize.

Dolgailon turned to the voice and stared at his aunt. She had managed to push herself to her feet and she was struggling against the elf holding her by her upper arms.

"My naneth. They dragged off my naneth," Lindomiel was yelling, pointing northward into the forest. "I have to help her." She was frantic.

The foreign elf turned Lindomiel to face him, holding her securely by her shoulders. "I will go after her, my lady. I will help her. You stay here and let someone see to your wounds." He spoke calmly and with such authority that Lindomiel stopped trying to pull away from him. Her brow furrowed as she looked him up and down once and then again.

"Haldir?" she finally managed.

The elf nodded. "I will go after your lady mother right now, if you will sit and let someone treat your wounds."

Lindomiel nodded and sagged against him. The elf, apparently named Haldir, passed Lindomiel to Hallion and made to walk north into the forest. Dolgailon went after him. Obviously wandering the forest now, alone, was not safe.

When Lindomiel recognized Hallion, she tensed again. "My wounds are nothing," she said, pulling away from him and taking a few running steps towards a tree riddled with arrows. Dolgailon looked at it and saw Galuauth struggling to push himself up against it trunk. Another body lay near him.

"Someone help my adar." Lindomiel was all but yelling at Hallion, who had caught her arm again. "Someone help him."

"I will, Aunt Lindomiel," Dolgailon called to her. "I will help him. Let Hallion help you." Dolgailon signaled for Hallion to keep her in place. Hallion nodded and pushed her gently against the nearest tree. Lindomiel collapsed to the ground and slumped against it, spent.

Dolgailon reached the arrow-riddleed tree and glanced at Amglaur, lying face down in the muck of the battle. He had an arrow through his chest. He was beyond help. And if orcs dragged off Limmiel, there was little doubt in Dolgailon's mind that she was also dead, though he would certainly find those orcs to make sure they met the same fate. He offered a hand to Galuauth and pulled the guard to his feet. He nodded his thanks, leaning against the tree and trying to maintain his balance while favoring a deep gash on his thigh and an arrow wound in his shoulder.

Dolgailon stepped past him and raised his hand to call the foreign elves over to him. They hesitated, exchanging a glance, but met him halfway between the tree where Amglaur lay and the one Lindomiel rested against. When the one called Haldir spotted Amglaur, he closed his eyes. They were clearly warriors, judging by their weapons.

"I appreciate your offer to search for Limmiel," Dolgaion said in a low voice, "especially for its effect of calming the Queen. But I cannot allow you to search for her..."

Haldir drew a sharp breath to reply, but Dolgailon did not stop speaking.

"I can see that you are capable warriors and I appreciate your help here, but you do not know this forest and my patrols do not know you. It would be safer for me to send one of my own warriors after her."

Haldir's jaw clenched. "Lady Limmiel is our Queen," he said stiffly. "We would like to accompany your warriors."

Dolgailon frowned at that, looking at Haldir with open confusion.

"I am Haldir, marchwarden of Lothlorien. These are my brothers, Rumil and Orophin," Haldir said.

Dolgailon nodded to them. "Dolgailon Aradunnonion," he replied. "I do not understand. Lord Amglaur is King Amroth's nephew. He is not King of Lothlorien himself."

"King Amroth has left Lothlorien for the Havens. We traveled here to ask Lord Amglaur to return to Lothlorien as our King."

Dolgailon glanced down and, with effort, refrained from looking behind himself at Amglaur. "I am very sorry," he said quietly. "I will call for someone to look for Limmiel immediately, but if they have taken her..." he drifted off.

Haldir nodded once.

"We need help over here," Ostarndor called from where Dolgailon had seen the heap of elves around Tulus.

Dolgailon turned to him reluctantly, fearing what he would see near Tulus.

Tulus was still conscious. He had fallen back to sit, propped up by his least wounded arm. Ostarndor and Morillion had straightened out four bodies to lie on their backs next to him. Two moved weakly against their pain, Dolgailon saw. Two did not. Two were also smaller than the other two.

"This is not possible," Dolgailon whispered as he stalked over to help his captains. They were swiftly opening pouches from their packs. The Lothlorien elves followed him.

"We need those horses, so we can get them to your village," Ostarndor said without looking up at Dolgailon's approach.

"Quickly. These wounds are poisoned. We need to figure out which poison and we will need more medicine than the small amount we are carrying."

Dolgailon picked up one of the orc's blades and, checking his hand quickly for open wounds, ran his finger along the flat of its blade. Then he tasted the gunk on his finger and spat. "It is the poison that causes fever."  He looked down at the wounded elves that Ostarndor was treating and his worst fears were confirmed--the King and Conuion, which Dolgailon had expected, along with Legolas and Galithil.

Galithil, to Dolgailon's great relief, began to try to sit up when he saw his older brother. "Dolgailon! What are you doing here? I thought you were in the south." His voice was rough with pain.

"What am I doing here?" Dolgailon repeated, kneeling next to his brother, looking him over and nearly getting sick at the sight of the gaping wound on his leg. He pulled off his tunic and used his knife to make a tear in it. Then he tore a strip of cloth from it and began wrapping his brother's leg.

"That needs to be cleaned and stitched before it is wrapped," Ostarndor interrupted. "You know better. Wrapping it will only trap the poison. Leave it to bleed."

Dolgailon looked at him. He was examining Legolas's head. Dolgailon's heart raced a little harder when he noticed that Legolas was limp in Ostarndor's arms. Next to him, Morillion was cutting the tunic and shirt off the King. Dolgailon closed his eyes briefly. The King was also perfectly still. His shirt and tunic were soaked in blood and Dolgailon saw a gaping wound across his gut. "Is he dead?" Dolgailon asked.

Both Ostarndor and Morillion shook their heads.

"I think he was hit, hard. Here," Ostarndor waved his hand over Legolas's temple. "I do not think his skull is crushed though. There are no indentations or soft areas. I think it is a concussion. Nothing more."

Dolgailon breathed a little easier.

As Ostarndor spoke, Morillion inspected the length of Thranduil's wound. "Muscle is cut," he announced. "Very deeply in some places. But the abdominal wall is still intact. I do not think any organs were damaged, or at least not perforated and that is the most important thing. We need a healer, but I think he will live if we can stop this bleeding and counteract the poison. We need to get them to your village and to more medicine," he said, repeating Ostarndor's earlier suggestion.

Feeling a spark of hope, Dolgailon signaled to Morillion to fetch the horses they had seen wandering on the forest edge. "What are you doing here?" he finally asked, directing himself to Galithil and Tulus.

"Uncle sent Legolas and I to speak to the dwarves in your village," Galithil answered. "He did not want Amglaur to do it, given how much he hates dwarves," he continued in response to his brother's confused expression.

"The Southern Patrol reported elves from Lothlorien and dwarves in your village," Tulus elaborated. "The King allowed Lord Amglaur to question the messenger about the Lothlorien elves, but the answers he received only alarmed Lord Amglaur. So he came south to speak further to his citizens while Galithil, in your place, was to find out what the dwarves were doing in the village. It was reported that they were wounded."

Dolgailon shook his head. "Then what are the King and Queen doing here?"

"The King escorted Lady Limmiel south to join her husband when Lord Amglaur heard from the Lothlorien elves that Lord Amroth had fled Lothlorien. Lord Amglaur intended to return to his home, to try to help his people there." Tulus looked down and continued in a softer voice. "The Queen wished to travel with her parents to the forest border to fare them well."  

Dolgailon stared at Tulus a long moment. The elves from Lothlorien were shaking their heads. Dolgailon looked around the battlefield. More orcs than he could immediately count lay dead or dying around him. Galudiron was extracting the bodies of three of the King's Guard from amongst the orcs' bodies on the southern flank of the battle. The northern flank, where Thranduil undoubtedly hoped his wife and children could escape, was lined by orcs pierced by arrows--some the yellow arrows used by the King's Guard and some fletched with the bright red Legolas and Galithil currently favored. Dolgailon could plainly identify the trees where they had sheltered--they were festooned with black-fletched arrows. This was a disaster for Lothlorien. It may yet be for the Woodland Realm.

"What about Conuion?" Dolgailon asked, as Ostarndor turned to examine the King's guard.

"His shoulder is very seriously damaged. He may lose the use of this arm, if he doesn't lose the arm itself. But, I think he will live, if he survives the poison. He is already feverish. So is the King."

So were Galithil and Tulus, Dolgailon could tell from their flushed faces. He stood. "Bring the Queen and Galuauth," he called, signaling to Hallion, who had remained with Lindomiel. "We are heading for the village."

"Bring that arrow," Tulus called to Galuauth, pointing to the tree he had been leaning against.

Galuauth nodded and grasped an arrow with a silvery-painted shaft and bright blue fletchings. He yanked it from the tree and shoved it into his quiver.

Dolgailon frowned. "It does not seem to be a lucky arrow, Tulus," he said as he helped Galithil to a horse. "It struck nothing."

"It is a very lucky arrow," Tulus replied. "It did not strike the Queen, though it and several others were intended to. The last one like it, the one that killed Amglaur, was intended for the Queen, but Amglaur stepped in front of her."

Dolgailon looked at Tulus sharply. "That does not look like an orc's arrow," he whispered, mindful of the presence of the Lothlorien elves. "It is too long to be shot from an orc's bow. That arrow was shot from a long bow."

"I agree," Tulus grunted in response as Ostarndor helped push him onto a horse.

*~*~*

Legolas sat on a mattress that had been dragged into Dolgailon's bed chamber. It was the largest private room in the talan and had been converted into an infirmary for Thranduil, Galithil, Legolas and Lindomiel. After several days of nausea and dizziness, Legolas was finally feeling better. He was only here now to keep Galithil company and to keep an eye on his father. Lindomiel also was largely recovered, but she had naturally spent the majority of the last few days next to her husband. She was only away now long enough to gather something for herself, Dolgailon and the children to eat for supper.

Thranduil had just awakened from the fever caused by the orcs' poisoned weapons earlier that morning. The brief conversation he managed left Legolas only more concerned about him. Thranduil had been...barely coherent, to be honest. Weak, disoriented. Legolas had never seen his father in such a state. Despite the fact that Salabeth said his recovery was better than she expected, Legolas was still worried, an emotion intensified by the fact that Thranduil had slept the rest of the day without awakening again. Legolas found himself staring at his father's chest rise and fall, trying not to think about...well, trying not to think about anything at all. The scritching of Dolgailon's pen as he wrote orders to the patrols at a desk in the corner of the room was Legolas's only distraction, and it was a very poor one, since it constantly brought his thoughts back to warriors and battles and orcs.

Galithil shifted on his mattress. He had been resting his injured leg stretched out in front of him, propped on a pillow. Now he allowed the leg to dangle over the edge of the mattress. The change in position drew a long sigh of relief.

Legolas glanced sympathetically at his cousin. Then he frowned. The relieved noise his cousin just made contrasted sharply with the rather sick look on his face.

"Do you need anything," Legolas asked, standing to fetch Galithil some water or broth or tea from the stand the healers had left in the room. Thranduil was to drink some of the broth and then the tea when he awakened. The tea was drugged. Maybe it would be wise for Galithil to drink a little of it to get some pain-free rest.

As he spoke, a light knock on the door drew Legolas's attention. He looked towards the sound and saw Tulus leaning on the door frame. He had a blue fletched arrow with him. He nodded in greeting to Legolas and said something to Dolgailon. Then he sat down heavily in the chair Dolgailon indicated, his uninjured arm pressed tightly against the wound under his ribs.

Galithil shook his head in response to Legolas's question. "My leg was only a little stiff. I feel fine."

Legolas faced him, hands on his hips. "You look like we did when we were five and nana made us eat asparagus. You do not look fine."

That wrung one snorting laugh from Galithil before he quickly sobered. He said nothing.

Legolas walked over and sat on Galithil's cot, leaning back against the wall. "Do you want to talk?"

Galithil shook his head. "I do not want to make you think about it."

"I am already thinking about it," Legolas replied. "Nothing is going to stop that." He studied Galithil, who still refused to look at him. "He was as much your daeradar as he was mine," Legolas said when Galithil still did not speak. "You were going to miss him as much as me if all he did was leave for Lorien. Seeing him killed was twice as hard on you as it was on me. I know that."

Galithil swallowed and remained silent.

Tulus and Dolgailon's whispered conversation buzzed in the silence. Legolas glanced at them. It was becoming heated, if Dolgailon's gesticulating and Tulus's openly annoyed expression was any indication. Tulus very rarely displayed any emotion that could be construed as even mildly disrespectful to anyone in the King's family. Legolas wondered what that conversation was about.

"I will miss Amglaur," Galithil finally said in a very quiet voice, drawing Legolas's attention back to him. "Seeing orcs kill him was nearly as bad as seeing them kill adar. That is the second battle that we have seen, and it was as horrible as the first. When I am being honest with myself--and I confess it is difficult to be honest at the moment--I cannot imagine seeing battles like that on a regular basis. Seeing someone you care about injured or killed...eventually being in the position to order people you know and care about into battles and be responsible for the injuries and deaths that result. Then treating the wounded and beginning the cycle again. Having that be your life. Your daily life. I am not sure I want that."

Legolas's eyes widened at his cousin's implication.

Galithil looked up at Legolas and met his gaze. "But what I cannot get out of my thoughts...what I will never forget, if I live until the Final Battle...what was far worse than a fair battle between armed, skilled warriors, was what the orcs did to Limmiel after she fell." He closed his eyes. Then he quickly opened them again, as if he did not want to see what he saw when they were closed.

Legolas clenched his jaw, that memory easily driving any other thoughts out of his head. He could not agree more. He had spent most of the last few days forcing himself to think about anything other than that. He had even resorted to doing stupid things like reciting poetry and the lines of the kings of Men to himself just to keep his mind occupied and focused elsewhere.

"It was...disgusting. They enjoyed.... It was as if they were playing...." he stammered, not even able to voice his thoughts.

"It was not play," Galithil spat. "We played with bugs when we we younger, but we did not pull their legs off..."

Legolas looked at his cousin in confusion.

"We caught frogs and salamanders and mice and even tried keeping them, but we never took bites out of them or carved into them with our knives, all while they were alive..." Galithil drifted off, grimacing. "Watching them do it once to Limmiel was bad enough. When they got hold of your naneth and I thought I would have to see it again, I wished...." he shook his head and faltered to a stop. "They are utterly evil," he concluded. "In a way that I never even imagined--that I can still barely conceive of, even after seeing it. I will never forget it. "

Legolas stared at the curtain of hair that shielded Galithil's down-turned face. He had seen the orcs enjoying his daernaneth's pain. He could hardly bear to watch it and he agreed with Galithil that it was something he would never forget the sight of. But he had been struck unconscious before his daernaneth was killed. Apparently matters had grown even worse. And naneth had refused to describe the specifics of how her fingers had been broken or how she received the cuts on her arms and chest or the one that traveled from her cheek down her throat and into the neckline of her dress. Legolas's heart began to thud uncomfortably. He had assumed that a sword had made those cuts during the fight--and that had been frightening enough--but it never occurred to him that an orc might have had his naneth as one had his daernaneth. His hands clenched into fists and bile rose in his throat at the thought of one of those vile creatures actually laying hands on his mother.

"Come here, ionnath nin," Thranduil's tired voice whispered.

Legolas and Galithil both turned sharply toward his cot.

He was holding out a hand in their direction.

Galithil sat up quickly enough to force a gasp from him despite his best efforts to stifle it. He pulled himself up from the cot and Legolas helped him to hop over to Thranduil. Both Legolas and Galithil took Thranduil's hand and Legolas squeezed it a little harder when Thranduil seemed unable to close his hand around theirs.

"Orcs are wholly evil," he said without opening his eyes. "They are not Illuvatar's children. They are Morgoth's spawn--a twisted product of his dark arts because he is not capable of creation himself. That is why we offer them no quarter in battle. They, like their master, seek only to destroy and so deserve nothing but destruction themselves." He paused for a few breaths. "I would say that I regret you have seen this evil so early in your lives, and I do. I would have preferred that you never had to see it, but it is not within my power to give you such a world. That being true, I confess I am very glad you were present for this battle. If I had followed my initial instincts and left you here in this village while your naneth and I travelled to farewell Amglaur, they would have brought my body back to you, if they could have found enough of it to bring." He opened his eyes and looked blearily at Legolas and Galithil. "I was conscious long enough to see you both standing over me. I do not know how that battle ended--if you and Tulus ended it or if help finally arrived--but I do know that the orc that did this," he slid his free hand to the bandages across his abdomen, "or one of the others near him would have finished me if you had not prevented it."

"The orc that did that did not live to draw another breath," Legolas said automatically, his voice cold. Then he frowned. What did his father just say? Did he just say that he was glad Legolas and Galithil were in the battle? He was definitely delirious.

Legolas did not have long to think about his father's words. Thranduil was slowly focusing properly on Legolas and Galithil, and his brow furrowed deeply as he did.

Legolas stiffened. His mother made a fuss every time she looked anew at the bruise on his temple. It was positively black, as was the eye closest to it. Even the skin around his other eye had a yellowish tint to it. Legolas considered the bruise far preferable to having his head cleaved in two altogether, and that is what would have happened if Tulus had not been able to turn the orc's blow. But the bruise did look bad, there was no denying it. Apparently, given his father's expression, it looked very bad.

"It is nothing, adar," Legolas insisted as Thranduil tried, but failed, to raise his hand and touch his son's face. "I was hit. It is nothing."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed, clearly not believing that bruise was nothing. But his gaze shifted to Galithil, looking him up and down, his expression demanding an explanation for the awkward way Galithil held his leg.

"I have a small cut on my leg, uncle. It hurts a little, but it is also nothing," Galithil said.

"You are lying," Thranduil whispered, unable to draw a deep enough breath to speak in a normal voice. "You could not walk from your own cot to mine without aid. You are both lying. A bruise like that," his gaze passed over Legolas's face once again before his eyes fell closed, "was caused by a blow that knocked you unconscious. Any blow serious enough to disable a warrior is not nothing." He shook his head. "But I will not criticize those lies. After a battle like that, I am only thankful that you are here to speak to me, lie or truth. And I am thankful to be here to listen to whatever you say," he mumbled, before slipping back to sleep.

Legolas was not certain what concerned him more: his father's obvious weakness or the fact that his cousin actually grimaced upon being referred to as a warrior.

Galithil and Legolas remained next to the cot until they were certain that Thranduil had fallen back to sleep. Then Legolas carefully repositioned the hand they had been holding so it rested at Thranduil's side. The movement did not make him stir. Legolas stood and pulled Galithil to his feet, acting as his crutch as he hobbled back to his own cot. After helping him settle, Legolas stared at him a moment, trying to decide what else to say to him. Would it be better to leave Galithil's current line of thinking alone, so as to not encourage it? Or would it be better to make him talk about it? If they talked, maybe Galithil would remember that it was his duty to defend this forest so that innocent villagers would not be forced to see what they had just seen. Legolas knew better than to directly say that to Galithil. His cousin was stubborn. Stubborn enough to behave in a contrary manner just because he could, at times.

"Do you understand what you are asking me to believe?" Dolgailon said from the other side of the room, no longer whispering.

Legolas turned at the sound of his older cousin's voice and an idea occurred to him. Galithil respected his older brother. Perhaps Dolgailon should hear what Galithil was saying, so he could talk to him about it. Legolas took a step towards them, intending to interrupt their conversation and ask Dolgailon to speak to Galithil. Before he could take a second step, he stopped and stared at them.

Dolgailon and Tulus were leaning into each other's faces, both talking, one over the other, in furious whispers, whether in an effort to keep their conversation private in the crowded room or in an effort to not disturb Thranduil, Legolas could not tell.

"If what you are saying is true," Dolgailon said, after making a sweeping gesture intended to demand Tulus's silence, "I would have to believe that this Manadhien was not only in league with orcs, but also willing to kill elves." He shook his head. "I cannot believe any elf is capable of either of those acts."

Legolas's eyes widened. Manadhien? Why in all of Arda would they be discussing her? Legolas looked at the arrow in Tulus's hand. It was one of the arrows the hidden orc archer had shot. Tulus thought it was Manadhien, not an orc, that shot it? Is that what they were arguing? Legolas had to agree with Dolgailon. That thought was mad!

"I am telling you that I saw her in this village," Tulus said, stabbing a finger down on the desk. "With Dannenion and Dolwon..."

"You initially said that you only got a glimpse of her..."

"I did. I admit that. But look at this arrow!" He thrust it in front of Dolgailon's face. "As you said yourself when Galuauth retrieved it: it is longer than my arm. An orc's bow could not shoot this arrow..."

"Elves are not the only beings that know how to make longbows, Tulus. And orc could do so..."

"But have you ever seen one do so? Or fletch their arrows bright blue...?"

"I have seen orcs steal weapons from their victims and use them..."

"Then you had better order one of the patrols to find the elf they killed and stole these weapons from. It was not any of us..."

"You are asking me to believe that this Manadhien is in league with orcs and willing to kill the King with her own hands," Dolgailon repeated his original argument. "Thranduil told me that none of her schemes ever required her or any other conspirator to directly murder another elf. I believe that. No elf would do such a thing."

Tulus leaned forward in disbelief. "Lord Oropher told me that he saw elves killing elves twice, with his own eyes. He was one of their intended victims!"

"Feanor and his sons and followers did what they did to fight against Morgoth, not to ally with his minions."

"As I learned the history from Oropher, they claimed they took the ships in Alqualonde in order to pursue Morgoth, but by the time his sons invaded Menegroth and Sirion, they were killing elves, not orcs, for no other reason then the possession of some jewel. Manadhien, Thranduil tells me, is Noldor. Perhaps she was one of them and has no qualms about killing elves, having already done so."

Dolgailon rolled his eyes and loosed an exasperated sigh. "Very well, Tulus. You conspired with her, after all. You tell me: did you and Manadhien ever plot to kill the king yourselves? With your own hands?"

Legolas had held his breath throughout this rapid exchange, too stunned by it to remember to breathe. Now he released that breath as if he had been punched. Tulus reacted to Dolgailon's statement in much the same way, reeling back in his chair and staring at Dolgailon with deep pain in his eyes. Legolas was instantly reminded of the expression on Tulus's face as he had confessed his part in Manadhien's plans to him before being appointed as his guard. That had been a horrible conversation and one he wished he could have spared Tulus. He certainly was not going to watch him suffer that topic again. Not now.

"Enough!" Legolas exclaimed, striding across the room and interposing himself between his guard and cousin. He faced Dolgailon, posture stiff, glaring down at him in his chair.

Tulus's gaze snapped to Legolas the moment he spoke. He stood instantly. Dolgailon expression slackened in surprise and he stared at Legolas, but only briefly, before standing as well.

"Dolgailon, I respect the fact that you are both my elder and this realm's Troop Commander," Legolas said in a low, even voice. "And I assume that Tulus is telling you about his suspicions regarding Manadhien's involvement in this battle because Conuion is still unconscious and with adar...in his current condition, well, I assume you will take the King's place until he recovers. I respect that as well. But you would do well to respect the fact that Tulus is standing here now bearing the second, nearly mortal wound that he has suffered while defending my life. It is unjust remind him of deeds that he long ago atoned for and has long ago been pardoned for. Moreover, doing so is an unacceptable response to Tulus's attempt to do his duty to report what he suspects is a threat against the King. Justice and duty aside, it is an unimaginably unkind way to treat someone who has been your friend for as long as you have been a warrior. Apologize to Tulus."

Dolgailon did not speak. Instead he stared at Legolas in silence.

"Now!" Legolas demanded firmly, but without raising his voice.

Dolgailon took a step back and looked at the floor. "My failure to respond does not stem from an unwillingness to do as you ask," he finally said quietly. "I..." he stumbled to a stop and took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Legolas directly. "I apologize, my lord. You are quite correct that the way I spoke to Tulus was unacceptable."

Legolas blinked at that, but Dolgailon did not notice it, or if he did, he did not acknowledge it.

Instead he turned to Tulus. "We have been friends nearly my entire life. I do apologize, Tulus. Sincerely. I meant that as a serious question. but I should have worded it more carefully because I can see how it would hurt you to be reminded of those times. I did not intend it to imply that you still harbored any sympathies for that conspiracy and I definitely did not intend to cause you pain, I swear. I beg your forgiveness."

Tulus looked down at his boots, frowning. "And you have it, my lord."

Dolgailon stepped around Legolas to grasp Tulus's uninjured arm and make him look at him. "I do not want your forgiveness as your lord. I have never put myself in that place with you. You have always been like a second father to me and I have always been grateful for that. I am asking for your forgiveness as your friend, Tulus," he said softly.

"You have it," Tulus repeated, trying to muster a bit of a smile.

Dolgailon smiled back at him and then turned to Legolas. "Does that satisfy you, my lord?" he asked.

Legolas was slowly growing accustomed to that form of address when he was performing some duty his father had given him. He was completely stunned to see Dolgailon use it now. He studied him quickly, trying to find any sign that he was joking or mocking him, which was not something he would have ever expected from his cousin. Indeed, he did not appear to be. Legolas shook his head to try to throw off his surprise and drew a breath to say that it did satisfy him, but then, he realized it did not entirely. If Tulus was right, his grandfather and grandmother and three guards had been killed because an Elf plotted to kill them! Worse, his grandfather and grandmother had been directly killed by that Elf and his mother nearly had been as well! It was so unbelievable, Legolas did not even know how it made him feel, but he did know that he wanted to find out if Tulus was right.

"I would be better satisfied if you finish the conversation you were having about Mandhien," he finally answered. Then he turned to Tulus. "I was talking with Galithil and Adar and did not hear everything you said. Did I overhear you say that you thought you saw Manadhien in this village, Tulus?"

"Yes, my lord, you did," Tulus replied and he quickly related the story of the elleth he saw speaking to Dannenion and Dolwon.

As he spoke, Dolgailon dragged another chair over to the desk and offered it to Legolas. Legolas sat. Then Dolgailon, and finally Tulus, re-seated themselves.

"And to answer your question, my lord," Tulus concluded, looking at Dolgailon. "In fact, I did hear Manadhien say once that she was perfectly willing to rid the forest of the King by killing him herself, if only we--it was Dolwon, Dannenion, Fuilin and myself present, at the time--would let her. That was the argument she used when she was trying to convince us to allow Men to kidnap the Queen the first time she tried it. She said it was either drive Thranduil out by threatening his family's life in a convincing way or simply kill him outright. It was at that moment that I broke with their conspiracy, because I believed she meant what she was saying. She was willing to do murder. But I understand the others agreed to the deal with the Men to prevent Manadhien from making good on her threats against Thranduil's very life."

Dolgailon was staring at Tulus by the time he finished speaking. "Does the King know that? And Conuion?" he asked.

"Of course," Tulus answered swiftly. "I told them absolutely every detail I could remember about my interactions with Manadhien."

Dolgailon loosed a long breath. "Very well, even assuming that I can comprehend the idea of an elf being willing to kill another elf, the idea that Manadhien was the archer that was targeting the Queen, Amglaur and Limmiel still depends on the idea that she was allied with the orcs. She could not have hidden herself amongst them if she were not allied with them."

That was a good point, Legolas thought. An Elf could not have hidden amongst the orcs. It was impossible.

"I think she was not only allied with them, but that she also designed their attack on the King's party," Tulus replied firmly.

Legolas openly gaped at Tulus and from the corner of his eye, he saw Dolgailon's jaw drop.

"You think she is...what? Some sort of orc commander?" Dolgailon finally managed to ask.

"I know that she has allied with Dark Men--with the Evil One's own minions--before and planned attacks in this forest with them. I do not think it would be surprising if she allied with his minions again to attack the forest."

Dolgailon shook his head. "But...orcs?"

"That was a very well strategized battle plan for a rabble of orcs, my lord," Tulus pressed. "Attacking on two fronts. Placing the archers on the Northern front, where the guards would naturally take the children and ellyth into the trees for escape. And over seventy orcs? All wandering together, coincidentally in the same place the King was traveling when no orcs have been seen in this area in over a year? And all of them had just happened to poison their weapons for their stroll through the forest that afternoon?" Tulus shook his head. "I do not believe that many orcs just happened upon the King's party in such fortuitously organized position. I think someone smarter than orc captains planned and executed that attack and then accompanied the orcs to make sure all went as planned. It very nearly did. It would have if you had not arrived exactly when you did. It still might have, if Legolas had not already eliminated the hidden archer."

"Legolas shot...that archer?" Dolgailon asked.

Legolas and Tulus both nodded. Legolas's head swam as the realization of what he had done hit him.

"No elleth's body was found," Dolgailon said.

"Good. I am very glad no body was found," Legolas replied, his voice a little rough. "Learning that I shot an arrow at an elf--an elleth--and likely wounded her, is already quite enough to make me sick. I would hate to think that I killed an elf. But I only saw the arm of her bow and her arrow and maybe a shadow of a form in the brush. I shot at her. I did not see her well enough to properly target her, so I am not surprised I did not hit her squarely. I never got another glimpse of her because then I was struck," he pointed at the bruise on his temple. He fixed Dolgailon with a grave expression. "I admit I know very little about warfare, but Tulus makes a good argument that this battle was too well strategized for orcs. Do you agree?"

"When I first saw that groups of orcs, I assumed you were unfortunate enough to come across one of the many parties that have been leaving the forest for Hadhodrond, though they were unusually far north for that crossing. But now...I cannot deny I can see Tulus's version of events as a possibility as well," Dolgailon admitted.

Legolas closed his eyes, nausea and fury rising in his gut at the idea that an Elf had plotted, with orcs, to kill him and his family. It was utterly unbelievable.

"You saw her in this village?" Dogailon asked, still sounding incredulous. "You think she lives here? In my adar's village? He lived here until forty years ago. Do you know what my adar would have done to her if he had caught her? Do you know what the King would do?"

"He will execute her when he catches her," Tulus replied matter-of-factly. "Your adar would have done it himself with his bare hands had he ever found her."

Legolas turned a disapproving look on his guard. "My adar would not execute an elf, Tulus," he said in a quietly scolding tone.

"An elf who gave your naneth and mine to Men? Twice?" Dolgailon said. "Who tried to see you and Galithil captured by Men when you were defenseless infants? An elf in league with orcs? Oh, yes he would, Legolas. Thranduil will destroy anything that harms his family and never doubt that. The point is, Manadhien has to know that too. Surely she would not chose to live in my village, where she would risk being seen."

"Seen by whom?" Tulus asked. "You were not even born the last time she was seen by anyone in your family. You would not recognize her. The King and Queen and guards that would recognize her rarely come to this village. And in my experience, Manadhien is very good at disappearing when she wants to. Moreover, she does not want to hide. She wants followers. She cannot secure those while in hiding. I am not saying that she lives here. I do not know that. I do believe she was here in this village, possibly visiting Dannenion and Dolwon. I have followed them south before in hopes of catching her."

Dolgailon's expression was one of surrender. "Very well, Tulus, I concede this is at least possible. The question then is: what do you want to do about it? Conuion is not yet conscious, if he will even live. We cannot await his orders. Or the King's. You are an officer of the King's Guard. What is your recommendation for how we respond to the threat that Manadhien might have engineered this attack? I will help you carry out whatever you suggest."

Tulus looked alarmed at the idea that he should be responsible for that decision.

"You know her better than any of the rest of us, Tulus," Dolgailon said. "That is not intended as an accusation or a reminder. It is a tactical advantage that we should use. How should we respond to this?"

Tulus leaned against the back of his chair and paused a long moment, thinking. "I think we should act as if we suspect nothing," he finally said. "If we send a group of warriors or guards searching for her and inquiring in the villages about her, she will disappear exactly as she did when her last attack against the Queen failed. The closest we have ever come to capturing her was through spying on her contacts. Let me see if I can find a way to approach Dannenion, Dolwon or any of our old friends here in the south without raising their suspicions. Other than that, I suggest we wait to give her enough time to relax again. To think that anyone who might recognize her has returned north. Then, let me come back here secretly. If she is here, I will find her."

Dolgailon nodded. "You will need the King's permission to assign another guard to Legolas while you are away, and I want you to send a message to the stronghold requesting more guards be sent here. I want the King and Queen very well guarded while they remain here. Otherwise, that sounds like a reasonable plan." He turned to Legolas. "Do you agree?"

Legolas laughed. "If I have little knowledge of warfare, I have none at all of spying or trapping criminals. My opinion does not matter."

Dolgailon smiled at him. An amused smile that made Legolas's eyebrows climb. "Oh, but your opinion does matter, my lord," he said. "Your earlier assumption that I will be taking the King's place while he is recovering was quite wrong. It is you, and not I, that is the King's son."

Legolas laughed again and drew a breath to remind Dolgailon that he was not of age. But another knock on the door interrupted him. It was a lieutenant from the Southern Patrol along with three foreign elves that Legolas did not recognize, but they were clearly warriors. They all had magnificent bows. Dolgailon's expression grew shuttered and he glanced at Legolas and Galithil quickly while ordering the lieutenant to silence with nothing more than the intensity of his glare.

"Are these the warriors that were searching for any sign of daernaneth?" Legolas asked quietly. He knew his daernaneth was dead. Having it confirmed for certain was something he both did and did not want to hear.

Dolgailon's jaw clenched, but he nodded and then addressed the lieutenant. "What did you find?"

The officer shook his head. "We tracked them to the edge of the forest. They remained just under its boughs for a long distance, probably until night fell, and then they cut out onto the plain. I did not want to pursue them there without orders."

"If you cannot send anyone, my brothers and I can track them on our return to Lothlorien. We will see that they are finished," Haldir stated.

"How many were there?" Dolgailon asked. "There are only three of you, after all." Then he looked at the lieutenant. "And you are certain they completely left the forest?"

"We tracked four, my lord," the lieutenant replied. "We could see their tracks extend far onto the plain. They have definitely left the forest."

Dolgailon nodded and turned to Haldir. "If you can find them..."

"We will," Haldir hastened to assure him.

"What about daernaneth?" Legolas asked. "If you did not find her body, how can you be certain she is dead? What if they still have her alive?"

The lieutenant looked at Dolgailon and shook his head again. In his peripheral vision, Legolas saw that Galithil's eyes were tightly shut.

"We found enough of her that we can be certain she is dead," Haldir replied, quietly.

Legolas's brow knit, not understanding what that could mean. Then the significance of his cousin's earlier statement about 'pulling legs off bugs' slammed into place in his brain. He swallowed hard, looked straight ahead at nothing and brought his expression under control with effort. Then he nodded. "I see," he said, oddly pleased with how even his voice sounded.

Dolgailon laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Haldir turned back to Dolgailon. "My brothers and I will leave to pursue the orcs immediately. We need to return to Lothlorien. What we have found here is...terrible news. Both because I loved Lord Amglaur and Lady Limmiel and because I...I confess that I do not know what will become of Lothlorien without them. The warriors can fight, but the people need something more than warriors to trust in. To look to for leadership."

"I understand," Dolgailon said. Then he looked up, as if just remembering something. "Perhaps I can give you some good news. I met Lords Celeborn, Elrohir and Elladan of Imladris on the plain, near Hadhodrond," he said.

Legolas's gaze darted to his cousin. He had been too busy helping to care for his father and Galithil. He had not heard the tales of where Dolgailon had travelled yet.

"They, along with Mithrandir, the wizard, do you know him?"

Haldir nodded.

"They told me they were concerned about Lothlorien and were traveling there directly. They have likely already arrived. Perhaps they can offer you some sort of aid to organize your defenses and rally your people."

Hope sparked in Haldir's eyes. "My brothers and I will hurry back and hope they arrived in Caras Galadhon safely."

Dolgailon stood. "I will arrange an escort to the forest border for you," he said, turning back to the desk. "Please come with us," he said to his lieutenant, while picking up some papers from the desk. "I would like for you to deliver some messages, on the way back to your patrol."

Legolas stood as well. Haldir's open concern for Lothlorien had reminded him of his father and Amglaur's discussion about military aid. "Commander, may I speak to you and Lord Hallion for a moment before you arrange for Haldir's escort?" He turned to Haldir. "If you could wait, it will only take a moment."

Haldir nodded, if a bit impatiently. Dolgailon looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but also nodded. "Of course, my lord. I believe Lord Hallion is in my office writing some correspondence to the stronghold." He gestured for Legolas to precede him from the room and murmured a request to the lieutenant to take Haldir and his brothers to wait for them in the family sitting room.

*~*~*

Adar -- Father


Naneth -- Mother


Daeradar -- Grandfather


Daernaneth -- Grandmother