AN: This is a continuation of a series of stories titled Interrupted Journeys. Parts One through Eleven have already been posted. In the case of this story, it is probably necessary to have read at least Parts Eight through Ten to understand the OCs and their motivations better and to understand the events that Thranduil is trying to manage. In fact, if you haven't read those parts, you will likely think I have a very poor understanding of Tolkien's elves. This part of the story is set in Legolas's childhood, immediately after Part Eleven. Legolas and his friends Anastor, Noruil and Brethil are near adulthood, at the age of 46. His cousin, Galithil, is a half year older then Legolas, and has just had his 47th Begetting Day. His cousin, Berior, is a year younger than Legolas, at the age of 45.

T.A. 1987

Chapter 1: The best laid plans of elves and orcs

Hooo, hooo, hoooo!

The owl's call softly filtered through the open door of Thanduil's private office from the Queen's garden outside it. Then it sounded again, more insistently.

Thranduil abandoned his reading at his desk and hurried into the garden. It did not do to keep that owl waiting, lest he rend the message he carried to pieces trying to remove it himself in his impatience. As Thranduil approached, the owl stamped his feet on the bench where he waited, hopping up and down in the process. His broad wings fluttered silently at his side as he bent over the small pouch tied to his leg, picking at it.

"Shh," Thranduil soothed. "One more moment, if you please." He reached carefully for the leather straps, neatly avoiding the bird's nipping beak. "Go find yourself a nice mouse," he said, once the pouch was in his hand. The owl did not hesitate. With one stroke of his wings, he soared into the lower branches of the beech tree in the center of the garden and began swiveling his large head in search of his reward.

Without bothering to move, Thranduil unrolled the messages the owl carried and scanned them, first one and then the other. "Good news, this," he said to himself with grim satisfaction. Then he strode back into the stronghold.

Tucking the notes into his tunic pocket, he passed through his office and straight out of the family quarters. Walking briskly, he made several turns through the twisting halls of the stronghold, until he approached an open wooden door at the end of a brightly lit corridor--the door of his wife's workshop, where she and her ladies did their weaving. A smile claimed Thranduil lips. Lindomiel's voice reached him in the corridor, telling a story that had the other ellyth in the room positively breathless with laughter. He was certain that he caught his own name near the end of her tale, but whatever else she said was drowned out by giggles.

"Dare I ask what you all find so amusing?" he asked as he stepped into the room.

Thranduil almost never ventured into Lindomiel's workshop, at least not during the day, when the other ladies were working. He was normally engaged in his own duties during those hours. But, given the messages he just received, he needed the Queen.

Some of the ladies in the workshop, the younger ones that Lindomiel had brought on when Dieneryn sailed, tensed and fell silent in reaction to his sudden appearance, their hands frozen, tangled in the warps of their looms. The others, who had been weavers since the capital was south of the mountains, also stopped working, but they burst into laughter twice as loud. Lindomiel's story must have been an interesting one, indeed. Thranduil focused on her and raised one eyebrow, struggling--and failing badly, no doubt--to hide his own amusement and appear dignified.

"I am telling stories of our courtship, nothing more," Lindomiel answered him, her face the picture of innocence, if he ignored the light that made her eyes twinkle. She arose from her loom.

Inspired by her movement, the younger ladies also began to stand, looking even more guilty, if that were possible.

"Do not disturb your work," Thranduil said quickly, gesturing for everyone to remain in place and moving to join Lindomiel at the back of the room, at the end of the row of weavers.

Lindomiel hurried around her loom to meet him.

That struck Thranduil as unusual. Speaking with her in the back of the room would clearly be more private and, therefore, preferable to speaking with her in the midst of all her ladies. Surely she must recognize that. He was further surprised when one of the most experienced weavers stood, despite his invitation to remain seated. It was immediately obvious that she had not stood out of courtesy. Like Lindomiel, she stepped into the pathway. There, she interposed herself between the king and queen, even going so far as to hold her hand in front of Thranduil's face, nearly over his eyes.

"You cannot go back there, my lord," she declared firmly.

Thranduil ceased trying and instead took a step back to regard both the weaver and Lindomiel with a bemused, somewhat exasperated expression.

"The project on my loom is a gift for you," Lindomiel explained.

Thranduil's eyes lit. "Is it now?" he asked, making an exaggerated effort to lean around the elleth before him. His wife took such pride in ensuring her gifts were always a surprise. Foiling her effort to do so had long ago become a game between them.

"It is," she affirmed, reaching his side. She took both his hands and rotated around him, turning him to put his back to her loom.

He looked over his shoulder, while pretending to pull away from her.  "Just a glimpse," he teased.

"Thranduil!" she exclaimed in playful outrage, tugging on his hands.

With dramatic reluctance, he relented and faced her fully. "Not even a hint? Will you at least tell me if it is a tapestry or a garment?" he asked with a grin. "You cannot expect to keep it secret now that I know that it is here, after all."

She tightened her grip on his hands. "I will tell you nothing. Indeed, I will have this room locked until I finish it."

That made Thranduil laugh outright. "You think you can lock me out of rooms in my own stronghold?"

"I do," she replied with a serene smile and absolutely no hesitation. Or doubt.

Some of the younger ellyth laughed nervously.

Thranduil raised one of her hands to his lips. "I would never dream of challenging you, my lady," he said. "I promise not to peek at your gift until it is off the loom."

"But you are brought to that promise only to avoid the indignity of being barred from any part of this stronghold and, even then, you limit your promise to the completion of the project. After that, anything goes, I suppose," she said, still smiling.

He nodded. "Of course."

Lindomiel laughed and leaned to whisper into his ear. "You are a villain, meleth. I shall stop making presents for you if you do not amend your ways." She concluded that threat by kissing his cheek.

He pressed his cheek against hers to arrest her movement away from him and to whisper in her ear in turn. "Your threats do not frighten me," he breathed, quietly enough to be certain no one would overhear him. "I am fairly certain I know how to regain your good graces."
 
"Prove it," Lindomiel whispered back in a tone of voice that made Thranduil very thankful no one else could have heard her and regretful that he still had a considerable amount of work to do before he could accept that challenge. His regret must have been written on his face. She led him a few steps away, closer to the door, and her expression grew more serious. "I doubt that you came here, personally, rather than sending a servant, to peek at presents that you did not yet know existed," she prompted.

"Indeed not," he replied. "I fear that I must request your presence in the Hall. I have messages from the south. There are decisions to be made and I want you there to help make them."

She nodded. "Give me a few moments? To find a better stopping place than the middle of the pattern I am weaving?"

"Of course," Thranduil replied, again kissing her hand. "It will take Hallion and I that long to call everyone else to the Hall."

"I will be there as quickly as I can," she assured him.

Despite the gravity of that business, Thranduil laughed when Lindomiel escorted him all the way to the door of the workshop and closed it after him.

*~*~*

From Lindomiel's workshop, Thranduil made straight for the passage that housed his advisors' offices, to find his steward and enlist his help to gather the rest of the Council. That request, and the messages Thranduil showed him, sent Hallion rushing behind the tapestry across from his office and through the secret door that led into the Great Hall. For his part, Thranduil went to the office next door to Hallion's--the Troop Commander's office--in order to give Dolgailon the opportunity to see the messages before the others on the council.

His eyebrows went up when Galithil, not Dolgailon, rose from the chair behind the desk. He was sorting through troop reports from the looks of it.

"May I help you, my lord," he asked with a slight frown. Like the ladies in the Queen's workshop, he was clearly surprised to see the King wandering about the stronghold in the mid-day.

"I was looking for Dolgailon. And you," Thranduil responded, glancing around the office and then stepping closer to the desk to peer at the papers Galithil had been organizing. They were indeed troop reports, along with a map of the forest. Galithil was mapping the latest orc and spider encounters, it seemed. "Do you know where he might be?"

"On the training fields," Galithil answered. "Promoting Sidhion."

That made Thranduil blink. Promoting Sidhion? On the training field? Sidhion was already a lieutenant. One of the lieutenants of the Palace Guard, not the Training Program. Dollion was the Guard's captain and Thranduil wanted him to remain its captain. They had only just given Dollion special duties that Dolgailon knew perfectly well Thranduil entrusted only to him. Thranduil could not imagine how Dolgailon meant to reorder the Guard's command structure, why he would be doing it now, of all times, or what any of that had to do with the training field.

"Sidhion is to be the new captain of the Training Program," Galithil explained, in response to Thranduil's confusion.

Making Sidhion the Training Program's captain made little more sense than making him the Palace Guard's captain, at least in Thranduil's mind. "Sidhion has never worked with the Training Program," he said.

"That is not entirely true," Galithil replied. "When the Palace Guard is sent to support one of the patrols, the Sixth Years take the Guard's duty and so come under Sidhion's command. And even when the Palace Guard has its full complement of warriors, the Sixth Years take patrols with them, as well as the Path Guard, so Sidhion interacts with the Training Program regularly. And everyone likes him. He is...very diplomatic. He solves conflicts rather than instigating them."

Thranduil snorted in amusement. "And is that an important qualification for the captain of the Training Program?"

"The Training Program's purpose is to take young elves, who are often...less wise than they should be, and make them into warriors that will understand and respect the command structure. So, yes, the ability to teach and earn that respect is important," Galithil responded. Then he looked at Thranduil sidelong. "Langon was your swords master, was he not? He is very good at teaching warriors to fight with bladed weapons, but do you honestly believe that he could teach respect? Especially here in this forest?"

Laughing, Thranduil dropped into one of the chairs in front of Dolgailon's desk and gestured for Galithil to reseat himself. "Anyone would make a better captain, in your judgment, than Langon, then? Is that what you are saying?"

"Yes," Galithil answered bluntly. "But Sidhion really does make sense," he continued. "Pathon and Hebor are not much more experienced in command than the last time they were passed over for promotion, the last time the Training Program needed a new captain, so they will not do. And Tirithion and Langon are still too ill-tempered to be captains. Even if Dolgailon did promote one of them, he would still need to bring someone else into the Program as an officer to replace Glilavan. Sidhion has been a lieutenant for over half a yen, he knows the workings of the Training Program, he will not need to move himself or his family to take command of it since he already lives near the stronghold, and there are plenty of warriors in the Palace Guard or Path Guard ready for promotion, so he will be easily replaced in his current position. He is a logical choice."

Thranduil's brows climbed. That was certainly a thorough analysis. Dolgailon's, no doubt. Thranduil agreed with it and even if he did not, he would not challenge it, providing Dollion was staying in place. Dolgailon was the Troop Commander because Thranduil trusted him in that duty. Still, he was not entirely comfortable with how much he shared with his younger brother. Especially since Galithil was Pathon, Hebor, Tirithion and Langon's subordinate.

"I trust that you would not repeat that reasoning, especially the first part of it, in your officers' presence," he said. It was not a question or even a warning. He did trust that, else Galithil would not serve the Troop Commander's office or the Ruling Council in any capacity. "Still, I cannot help but wonder if your reactions to your officers are not influenced, at least somewhat, by hearing such evaluations of their strengths and weaknesses."

Galithil shrugged. "My lord, I think all my cousins and I have had enough direct interaction with those in authority to have formed our own very well reasoned opinions of the qualities that contribute to good or poor leadership," he responded dryly. "Naturally we will apply those opinions when judging those who command us, such as our officers. Every warrior does judge his officers, after all."

Thranduil smiled. "But every warrior is not privy to the Troop Commander's own evaluation of those officers."

"Nor is every warrior expected to prepare himself for the duties Legolas and I will be expected to face, my lord," Galithil countered.

Thranduil's smile broadened. "True enough," he said. Then he grew serious again. "I have messages from Tulus and Tureden. The council is convening in the Hall. Can you fetch your brother and join us?"

Galithil stood. "Of course, my lord." He pulled a key from his breast pocket, unlocked Dolgailon's desk drawer and began stowing the papers he had been working on into it.

Thranduil regarded that with some curiosity.

"We are concerned there may be spies in the stronghold," Galithil reminded him. "Hallion has ordered us to keep all written records either in the family quarters or under lock and key until the spy is identified."

Thranduil nodded. "That is a very good idea," he said softly. Then he looked back at Galithil. "Since you are so well informed, do you happen to know how Dolgailon and Dollion decided to secure communications to the patrols and villages?"

"I do," Galithil replied, sifting through the papers in the drawer. He produced one that contained a rough map of the territory around the stronghold and several lists in its margins. Galithil turned the paper so it faced Thranduil and pointed first to one of the lists. "These are the only couriers that will be allowed to carry messages from the villages to the stronghold, until further notice," he explained. He pointed to another list. "And these couriers will be for the patrols."

The elves on those lists were all fiercely loyal to the king.

Galithil then traced his finger along a line on the map. "Dollion has set this as the perimeter that he and select members of the Guard will patrol for unauthorized communications via courier, bird or other means." He pointed to a third list. "These are the Guards he has entrusted to share this duty."

This list was almost exclusively Sindarin elves.

"They know not to allow any couriers through, except the authorized ones. And they will report to Dolgailon any other travelers, elven or animal, to the area around the stronghold or anyone traveling away from the stronghold, past the perimeter." He pulled another paper from the drawer and placed it next to the map. It was in Dolgailon's hand--a partially completed set of orders to the Northern Patrol. "Moreover," Galithil continued, "the officers will be informed that all authorized orders and reports will contain this symbol somewhere within their text." He tapped one of the first words Dolgailon had written. Two of its letters were oddly connected in a way that might have been a splotch of ink or an oddity of hand writing, but on closer inspection Thranduil saw it was a deliberate pattern that approximated, in miniature, the device on Dolgailon's seal.

Thranduil nodded, quite pleased. "That should do very well," he said.

"As well as can be managed," Galithil agreed, returning the papers to the desk and locking the drawer. "By your leave, my lord, I will go find my brother. We have both been very anxious to hear Tureden's report."

Thranduil did not doubt that. Fortunately, the report in question should satisfy them. He stood and nodded his permission for Galithil to leave. "Thank you," he said as his nephew rushed past him.

*~*~*

"You have the reports?" Legolas asked, rushing into the Great Hall, followed closely by Berior, Lanthir and Galuauth. The guards lingered near the door, but their captain signaled for them to join him at the table, where much of the rest of the King's Guard already sat. "From both Tureden and Tulus?" Legolas specified, pulling out his chair when he reached the table. He held his hand out for the small, curled papers in front of Hallion. The steward passed them to Legolas as Thranduil nodded his permission for everyone to sit.

Legolas did so and Berior stood behind him, leaning over him to have a view of the reports.

"Good!" Legolas said quietly, handing one paper over his shoulder to his cousin. "Very good," he repeated when he finished the second and it followed its mate into Berior's hands. Berior murmured his agreement and gave the papers back to Hallion. Legolas turned an eager expression on the king and drew a breath to speak.

Before he could, Dolgailon and Galithil charged into the Hall, followed by their guards.

"You have news?" Dolgailon called.

Thranduil took the papers from Hallion and held them out for Dolgailon, not waiting for his request to see them.

Rather than going to his own seat at the opposite end of the table, Dolgailon stood in place, reading.

"So, are you going to arrest her now?" Galithil asked after only scanning the reports.

"Indeed," Dolgailon agreed. "When do we leave for the village?" He shifted his weight back and took a step towards the door of the Hall, as if he expected to depart immediately.

"That is what we are going to discuss," Thranduil replied, smiling, albeit grimly. He gestured for Dolgailon and Galithil to sit.

Galithil slid into the chair between Legolas and Berior. Dolgailon frowned and, rather than take his normal seat, dropped into the nearest unoccupied chair without taking his eyes off the king. "What is there to discuss? I agreed to leave her in my village until we found all her servants. Now we have them. Four are already dead. Tureden confirms that the two servants I saw with Manadhien in the village are Lagril and Pelin's brothers, Morinco, Haldince," he said, tossing Tureden's report back to Hallion. "Tulus reports that his spies still have Fuilin and Glilavan under watch near Dol Guldur," he continued, returning the second report to Hallion in a similar manner. "That is all of them. We will go to the village, arrest them all at once, so they will not be able to aid one another's escape, hold a trial and then...well, the rest is your decision, of course. The important thing is to arrest them quickly, before they can escape or do more damage in my village."

A scornful noise interrupted any reply Thranduil might have made. "And you are supposed to be the superior tactician," Engwe said, shaking his head. "Surely you can see this will not be so easy."

Dolgailon made a sour face, but did not rise to that bait. He did not even glance at his uncle.

That did not stop Engwe. "First," he held up one finger, "we must decide who we can send to arrest them that will not alarm Manadhien and send her running."

"Or worse," Golwon added softly.

Galithil, Legolas and Berior looked at him in confusion.

"If she learns that she is cornered," Hallion explained in a low voice, "about to be arrested, suspecting she faces execution, she will be desperate to evade capture. In her position, I would try to create some sort of diversion to facilitate my escape. If I had an army at my disposal--and we have confirmed she is allied with orcs--I could create a mighty diversion indeed. One that would result in far too many deaths."

"All the more reason to move swiftly," Dolgailon pressed. "We should send word to Tulus's spies, who are already watching Fuilin and Glilavan, to arrest them. And with your permission, my lord, I will take some of the guard to arrest Manadhien myself. No one would think it strange that I am visiting my own village. If I travel there, it will not alarm her."

Engwe held up a second finger. "Fuilin and Glilavan are hiding in an orc camp. How many orcs are in that camp? How dangerous is the approach? Are there enough spies present to fight all those orcs, as well as Fuilin and Glilavan, and capture or kill them?" He held up a third finger. "And as for Manadhien, even if you can travel to that village for the second time this month without arousing suspicion, how many people will you be arresting there? Not just Manadhien, Morinco, Haldince, surely. What about the villagers that sympathize with Manadhien? Especially those that have served her, possibly without knowing the extent of her evil. Do we know exactly who they are and if any of them are loyal enough, or deceived enough, to help her escape? If so, what do we do with them? Arrest them too? Or at least detain them?" He paused for emphasis. "We need to discuss this, Dolgailon."

Thranduil agreed. He waited quietly until Dolgailon managed to unclench his jaw to speak again.

"Though he is being as tiresome as we have all come to expect, Engwe makes some valid points," Dolgailon finally conceded in a carefully measured voice.

He ignored Engwe's indignant hurumph.

"Fuilin and Glilavan's arrest does present some tactical difficulties," he continued, "assuming we want them alive without incurring significant losses ourselves. Manadhien's arrest is probably the easier of the two, as well as the most important, so let us start there. Given the information Tulus and his spies have sent us, we have identified everyone we need to arrest in addition to Manadhien, Morinco and Haldince. To start with, I would want her advisors to speak to the King. Also, there are three village guards that seem to be aware of Manadhien's schemes and possibly of her alliance with the orcs around that village. Solchion, Lumil and Baranil are their names. We should at least detain them."

"Very well," Thranduil replied, looking at the captain of his Guard. "How do you recommend we proceed?"

Conuion frowned slightly, thinking. "Focusing first on the village then, we are speaking of arresting three people--Manadhien, Morinco, Haldince--for treason, and detaining several others--Solchion, Lumil, Baranil and those on her council--for questioning. We cannot do that with fewer than a dozen guards, especially given the likelihood that these elves will violently resist. The problem is, I cannot spare a dozen guards." He turned to Dolgailon. "Perhaps we could enlist the aid of officers from the Southern and Western Patrols? Ostarndor, Morillion  and their lieutenants? There is no doubt about their loyalty or skill. They are already in the area, so their movement towards the village should not be cause for alarm. If we send them, along with some of my guards--Belloth and Hurion would be best...."

"And Galudiron and I," Dolgailon added.

Conuion nodded. "Of course. With Tureden, Tulus and the other spies already present, that should be a large enough force. And since the guards will be traveling with Dolgailon, whose presence should not appear to be too out-of-place, we should not send her into flight." He faced Thranduil. "Does that meet with your approval, my lord?"

"Add me to your count and it will," Thranduil replied.

Conuion immediately scowled.

"I intend to personally arrest Manadhien," Thranduil said in a tone that even Conuion knew better than to challenge. "I have long anticipated the opportunity to look her in the eye again."

"I agree that certain aspects of this would be much easier if you went there yourself, my lord," Conuion responded, cautiously. "For example, you could determine the level of guilt that Solchion, Lumil, Baranil and the advisors bear, without having to haul the innocent along with the guilty back to the stronghold."

"And he could explain, in person, the crimes Manadhien has committed," Dolgailon added. "That might be necessary. She is popular and her crimes are difficult to believe."

"But in order for the King to travel to that village without sending Manadhien flying," Legolas interjected, "he would have to travel there secretly." His voice took on a rather dry tone. "Luckily, that will be easy to accomplish. It is very difficult to recognize either the King or his family."

Conuion nodded in response to that and merely looked at Thranduil evenly.

"If I avoid the villages and patrols along the way, I ought to be able to manage it," Thranduil countered, leveling a cool glare on his son that he was surprised to see did not make him so much as look away.

"What about Fuilin and Glilavan?" Berior asked in a clear effort to avert an argument. "Engwe is right that they are the bigger problem, camped amongst orcs."

"Is it your decision to simply execute them this time, Thranduil?" Engwe asked with an overly neutral tone that did nothing to disguise his disgust. "If so, you might better use your time and efforts at stealth to go to that camp instead of the village and put an arrow in each of their chests. It would forestall the need for a battle to capture two elves you intend to kill and, after you finish them, you can still return to the village and attend to matters there."

Everyone stared in utter silence at the King, awaiting his response to that suggestion.

Thranduil ignored his uncle's ill humor. He had his right to it, after all. Fuilin and Glilavan's fates were evil, indeed, but they had chosen them. Wishing they had not served no one. "Do we have scouting reports of this camp, Dolgailon?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord," Dolgailon responded promptly. "I ordered Ostarndor to send scouts in anticipation of the need to retrieve Fuilin and Glilavan. The camp is within sight of Dol Guldur and one hour from the western border of the forest. The best approach is along the western plain, through a ravine into the forest. The trees in the area offer no cover. There is only the ravine and roots and rocks on the ground. The camp itself consists of a shelter made of rocks on two sides, open in the front and closed in with piled wood at the back. The scouts report the camp is surrounded by orc lairs, but orcs do not occupy the camp itself. They have seen no more than twenty orcs at any one time in the area. Normally only five to ten. But, as I said, this area is within sight of Dol Guldur. A loud disturbance would, without doubt, bring the wrath of the entire fortress down upon whoever we send there."

"So, the best attack would be, as Engwe suggested, one that depends upon stealth and speed?"

"Yes, my lord. My scouts suggest a small contingent of elves could approach the camp to swiftly and, hopefully, quietly kill the surrounding orcs and offer Fuilin and Glilavan the opportunity to surrender."

"Or to raise an alarm," Engwe countered.

"Signifying their choice to be promptly executed, rather than to surrender," Dolgailon retorted. "And the elves we send would still have a good chance to escape whatever orcs were alerted. The scouts say this camp is the closest orc outpost to the forest border. The path to the plain from it is relatively clear, especially in daylight."

"Who could we send on this mission that we could expect to kill Fuilin and Glilavan, should it come to that?" Thranduil asked, speaking mostly to himself. The answer was immediately obvious. No one. There was no one that he would ask or order to such a deed. Bracing himself for an explosion, he turned to Conuion. "Engwe is correct. I have to do this myself."

That statement elicited the sternest scowl that Thranduil had seen on his guard's face since the mid Second Age, when he told him that he intended to lead warriors to help fight Sauron in Eriador in defiance of Oropher's orders. Still, Conuion only nodded.

There was a rustling around the table.

Thranduil glanced over the faces surrounding him. Legolas, Galithil and Berior were openly dismayed, Legolas not least of all, for reasons Thranduil easily sympathized with. Dolgailon seemed no better pleased. Hallion and Golwon were calculating, and possibly reining in, their responses. Even Lindomiel appeared ready to publicly protest.

Traveling within sight of Dol Guldur was insanely dangerous. Thranduil was perfectly aware of that. Unfortunately, even if he was willing to ask someone else to execute two elves--which he was not--he was also the most skilled warrior at this table, save possibly Engwe. He frowned. When had that happened? When he began his reign, he was the youngest member of his Ruling Council. Hallion and Golwon were still far older than him, but he had more experience in battle than even Golwon. They might try to dissuade him from this course of action, but it was the best choice, so they would not succeed.

"I will go with you, Thranduil," Engwe said into the uneasy silence. It was not a request or suggestion.

Thranduil's eyes widened involuntarily and his gaze darted to his uncle.

"I will not allow my brother's son--my nephew--to face Dol Guldur alone while I sit idly in this stronghold," Engwe continued with a sharp tone. "Nor will I let him face such dark deeds alone," he added in a softer voice. "I am going with you."

Thranduil stifled an astonished snort. There was a reason why he tolerated his uncle's bile and this was it. Engwe might be annoying, but he was also steadfast and utterly true, even in deeds that repulsed him beyond measure, once convinced they were necessary.

"I appreciate your support," Thranduil said softly.

Engwe only made an incoherent muttering noise in response.

"I am coming also, obviously, my lord," Conuion added. "Pendurion will come with us. So will Belloth and Hurion. They are the best archers amongst the Guard. In their place, Lanthir and Galuauth can go south to help arrest Manadhien in the village."

Thranduil nodded and drew a breath to declare their business finished, hoping to dismiss his council before open warfare erupted over the decisions they had made.

"One more question, my lord," Lindomiel said before he could speak. And she continued without awaiting his leave to do so. "Are we certain that we have all of Manadhien's servants?"

The question alone elicited a loud groan from Dolgailon.

"The success of these plans depends on their secrecy, so we must be certain," Lindomiel insisted. "Unfortunately, we are not. There may be one spy left. Here in the stronghold, we fear. Until we can identify that spy, bringing Manadhien and her servants into the stronghold would be very dangerous. It might even play into her hands."

"We do not know for certain that she has another spy," Dolgailon replied, sounding exasperated.

"Someone leaked the information that Legolas killed Demil," Hallion said. "We know that for certain. The only people that should have known that are in this room. So, unless one of us suddenly has forgotten how to hold his tongue...."

"Dannenion and Anastor also knew," Galithil interjected.

"Anastor swore to me that he did not tell anyone, not even anyone in his family," Legolas said quickly. "Not even Maidhien or Noruil. And I completely trust him. He fought Demil at my side. I would not be alive, save for his deeds in that fight. He would not lie to me about it."

"And I judged Dannenion to be honest when he swore to me that he told no one, not even his wife or brother," Thranduil added.

"Well, it was none of us that spoke of it," Berior said. "So it seems we do have a problem."

"Could it have been Langon?" Galithil asked, looking at Legolas. "You told him, did you not?"

Legolas nodded. "I did. That is possible."

Thranduil shook his head. "Hallion and I questioned Langon. He swore he told no one and I believe him. He understands very well the pain such deeds cause. He would not make gossip of them. Could anyone have overheard your conversation with him?"

"Not even Tureden heard it, apparently," Legolas answered. "And he was standing at the door of the weapons shed where Langon and I spoke."

Thranduil turned to Dolgailon. "What of the orders that you sent to the Training Program? The ones suspending Legolas's participation in sword training. Did you specify a reason for those orders?"

Dolgailon shook his head.

"He did not," Legolas confirmed. "I saw them. The lack of explanation is the reason Langon spoke to me."

"And no one else here told anyone?" Thranduil asked. "Think carefully."

Everyone present shook their heads.

"When Legolas told us how Demil died," Hallion said, "the scribes were in the Hall. Could one of them have heard? Berior was copying that morning and heard us discussing the swords."

"I saw Legolas jump up from the table and then I saw the swords and figured out whose they were. I could not hear what any of you were saying," Berior responded. "I do not believe anyone overheard the rest of our conversation. Legolas hardly shouted that confession, after all."

"Someone must have overheard it and that person is our spy," Lindomiel concluded. "A very well placed one. We need to know who they are."

"Agreed," Thranduil said.

Dolgailon frowned. "Surely you do not intend to delay this arrest further? The risk is too great. Both that Manadhien will do more harm in my village and that she might escape altogether. We have to arrest those we can now and worry about the remaining spy later."

"The risk to whoever goes to arrest her and bring her to the stronghold is too great if there is another spy," Engwe said. "How many more warriors will we allow her to kill while she and her minions evade arrest?"

Berior closed his eyes.

"Engwe," Thranduil growled in a low voice.

"If we cannot arrest her now, perhaps it is time to again consider the proposal that Dolgailon and I go to that village to keep it safe while we search for the spy," Galithil began.

"No," Legolas interrupted him.

"I cannot imagine how putting two of her targets within her easy grasp would improve the situation," Lindomiel said.

"Children have no business being involved in any of this," Engwe muttered. "That should be obvious."

Galithil regarded him with narrowed eyes.

"Sending Dolgailon, at least, would allow him to keep the worst of Manadhien's machinations in check," Golwon said. "And if we are to spend time searching for this last spy, I strongly agree that something must be done in the meantime to protect the southern villages from her."

Dolgailon nodded and leaned forward to lock eyes with Thranduil. "If I am in the village, my guards and I will already be in place to help arrest Manadhien when the time comes," he said. "And I will be able to coordinate with Morillion and Ostarndor directly. Moreover, if you want to find this remaining spy, what better way to do so than to have one of your own right in that village?"

"The King already has seven spies in that village at this very moment, Dolgailon," Hallion responded. "And we risk her leaving if you threaten her authority in that village. If she leaves, that would make arresting her all the more difficult."

"She will not leave if I go with him," Galithil said. "If Dolgailon and I go to the village under the pretense that I have been sent by the King to learn more about governing villages--if Dolgailon tells Manadhien that he wants her to teach me, since he must focus on his duties as Troop Commander--it puts us in the village to keep an eye on her; it obligates her to stay in the village to teach me; and it gives me the ability to have a direct hand in all she does, since she is supposed to be teaching me. It makes me a closer spy than any we presently have. It is the best hope for bringing this situation to a swift resolution."

"Or you to a swift death," Legolas countered. "It makes you, and the Troop Commander, her next targets and gives her even easier access to troop orders and reports than she already has."

"We have discussed in the past that I am perfectly capable of defending myself," Dolgailon retorted. "And regardless of where I am, we have already taken measures to increase the security of troop reports and orders. We either arrest her now with the plans we have agreed upon, or I go to that village. I will risk no more harm to the people that expect me to protect them. That is my final word,"

"Your word is not the final word, Lord Dolgailon," Thranduil said softly.

"In that village, it is," Dolgailon replied.

"In all this realm, I have the final word," Thranduil said, still speaking softly, but now with a definite edge on his voice.

Dolgailon said nothing further, but his stubborn expression did not change. Thranduil knew that expression all too well.

"The problem, Dolgailon," Legolas said into the silence, "is that if you go alone, the chances are good that Manadhien will leave the village to seek power, or at least better privacy for her schemes, elsewhere. The only proposal to counter that risk is to take Galithil with you. Will you truly risk your little brother in that manner?"

Galithil turned an utterly scathing glare on his cousin and drew a sharp breath to speak.

Dolgailon spoke first. "All warriors must eventually be tested, Legolas," he said, clipping off each word. "If you, Galithil or Berior were of age, I would deem each of you ready to fight. Not in one of the guards, but in a patrol...."

That claim took Thranduil so much by surprise that he could not suppress an audible gasp.

"Since, as this realm's Troop Commander, I am prepared to send my little brother to battle, I am equally prepared to take him to my village where, I will grant you, he will be in as much danger as he would be in the patrols." He turned back to Thranduil. "If Conuion can spare two guards, two for each of us, that is enough for Galithil to be accompanied at all times by two warriors, as well as for us to have a guard on watch even at night. Galithil can wear mail..."

Thranduil shook his head and held up a hand to cut him off. "You will not convince me that this can be made safe," he said. He did not believe that and he did not believe any of the children were ready to serve in the patrols, even if their ages were discounted. And he did not discount their ages.

"I am not entirely untried in battle, my lord," Galithil said, finally able to get a word in. "I have fought near that village before, if you will remember. Indeed, I will remind you that you would not be here to take part in this discussion had Legolas and I not been in that battle."

Thranduil clenched his jaw to remain silent. As much as he might wish to, he could not deny the truth of Galithil's claim. From every report he heard of that battle--the one in which Amglaur and Limmiel died--Legolas, Galithil and even Lindomiel fought very well.

"I will not claim that I am anywhere near as good with a bow as Legolas," Galithil continued when Thranduil said nothing. "I am not. But I am perfectly capable of defending myself with one. What I will claim," he glanced at Legolas, "and I defy anyone to refute me, is that I am much better with a sword than Legolas."

"That is certainly true," Legolas conceded quietly.

Galithil nodded. "Even Langon admits that I am good..."

That made Thranduil's brows climb. "It that true?" he asked Dolgailon, before thinking about his words.

"I beg your pardon!" Galithil exclaimed, standing and glaring at his uncle.

To Thranduil's left, Lindomiel made a small noise, as well.

"It is true," both Dolgailon and Colloth replied quietly.

"I ask your pardon, Lord Galithil," Thranduil said quickly, hands out in a placating gesture. "I truly did not intend to question your honesty. It was only the idea that Langon paid anyone an open compliment that seemed so...frankly, hard to believe. But I do not question you."

Galithil sat back down, mollified. "It is true," he repeated calmly. "And if Legolas could manage Demil in a sword fight, I could have as well. So, I can protect myself in the village, even against Manadhien and her servants, if need be,"

Legolas leaned towards his cousin, hand extended towards him, though flat on the table, as if he was restraining himself from reaching for Galithil to shake some sense into him. "First of all," he said, "I could not manage Demil. Anastor and Dannenion and I all fought Demil together, and he managed all three of us. Easily. I could not have killed Demil, I assure you, if Demil had not believed I would not try." He paused and now he did reach to grasp his cousin's forearm. "Make no mistake, Galithil: You may be so good that you have landed a single hit on Langon once or twice, but you are not so good yet that you equal him. Demil far more than equals Langon. Langon could not have bested Demil alone. Adar could not. Dolgailon could not. You will not." He paused. "Secondly, no matter how skilled you are with a sword, sparring with Langon or Dolgailon or me or any other elf is a far different thing from killing an elf. Successfully facing orcs and spiders is a far different thing from facing an elf. This is not a matter of skill, Galithil. Surely you recognize that."

"I do," Galithil replied, holding Legolas's gaze. "Just as you recognized perfectly well what would be involved when Mauril threatened this stronghold. Yet, you asked to help hunt him. When the safety of the people of this realm was at stake, you killed Mauril. And, as I understand it, you did not hesitate to do so."

Legolas said nothing to that.

"The safety of the southern villages is the stake in this decision, Legolas," Galithil continued. "I cannot allow the people of this realm to come to death, knowingly and without taking any action to prevent it, solely in order to preserve my own life. What purpose do we serve in this forest, if not to keep it and its people safe? I am only asking for the opportunity to do my duty to our people just as you have done."

Legolas pressed his lips together. Then, with obvious reluctance, he nodded once and looked down.

A moment later, after staring at Galithil with wide eyes, Berior did the same.

"I do not like it either, my lord," Golwon interjected. "But I agree with Dolgailon and Galithil that their presence in the village is necessary unless we arrest Manadhien immediately." He sighed. "Galithil is only two years younger than I was when I began serving in patrols around my home in Mithrim. And he is the same age I was when I fought in the First Battle. He certainly has more training than I ever had. If he wishes to serve, I do not think you should deny him the right to."

Thranduil scowled at all of them. Then he turned to Lindomiel. "My lady?" he asked softly.

Gaze on his aunt, Galithil strove to appear confident. Capable. Worthy of the duty he had requested to shoulder. Still, his eyes begged Lindomiel to give him her support, believing, not entirely without justification, that her words would have some weight.

"We must not allow Manadhien to escape again," Lindomiel finally said, after some thought. "Her treason against this realm has done far too much damage already. And we must not allow her servants to escape. They have proven they will carry out her designs with or without their mistress's direct involvement. We must be sure that we have all of them. That being so, I agree with Dolgailon and Galithil that it is our duty to protect the people of that village."

She paused and looked directly at Thranduil.

"Specifically, serving that village is the responsibility Dolgailon and Galithil inherited from their parents and they have the right to bear it," she continued firmly. "Galithil is not of age, but the Troop Commander states he is capable of defending himself. I think we must trust that evaluation as we trust any other that he makes regarding the warriors in this realm. This is a dangerous scheme, I agree, but it is the only one we have heard that will both protect the villagers and contain Manadhien, while we make sure we have identified all her servants. I support it," she concluded.

A smile flashed across Galithil's face before he quickly smothered it and turned back to Thranduil at the head of the table.

Thranduil looked at Hallion.

Expression grim, Hallion also gave a single nod.

Thranduil sat silently, considering the arguments he had heard. Finally, after a long pause, he faced Conuion and spoke. "You will write Tulus and Tureden. Tell Tureden to stay where he is to help Tulus keep an eye on Manadhien and to help arrest all of them when the time comes. Also tell them that Dolgailon and Galithil are coming to the village and explain why. Tell them to be prepared for anything and to watch for any signals Dolgailon might make while approaching and entering that village." He turned to Dolgailon and Galithil, who were already smiling with satisfaction. "You may both go to the village. If Manadhien accepts this arrangement, try to use your proximity to her to find out whatever you may. We will allow one month to identify the remaining spy. If we have not done so by then, we are arresting everyone we can identify using the plans we have already discussed, regardless. I will not wait longer than that. I want this over."

"That suits me, my lord," Dolgailon said.

"Conuion, when you write Tulus and Tureden, warn them that if Manadhien reacts badly to this arrangement, at the first indication she intends to escape, they should be ready to arrest her and her servants," Thranduil continued. Then he paused and turned a concerned look on Dolgailon. "If that happens, I fear it will fall to you to go after Fuilin and Glilavan as quickly as you can to prevent their escape."

"I can manage it, my lord," he said.

Thranduil would have to trust that. He focused on Galithil. "When she is arrested, I do not want you anywhere near her if it can be avoided. Do not participate. Let your brother, the guards and warriors manage her. Understood?"

"Yes, my lord," Galithil answered promptly.

"At all times during your stay in that village, you will obey your guards and your brother as if any order they give you came directly from me, understood?"

"Yes, my lord," he repeated.

"You will carry your knives and sword with you at all times, including in Manadhien's Hall, and I care not at all if she claims that offends her. Keep them always within reach, even when you are asleep. And you will wear mail. At all times."

Galithil nodded.

"Limit your interactions with Manadhien and all those we intend to arrest to the barest minimum that you can manage without arousing her suspicions that your presence is a ruse."

Again, Galithil nodded.

"Do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be lured outside of that village."

"Of course not, my lord," Galithil said.

"And if she or any of her servants threaten you, or try to force you to anything, do not hesitate to defend yourself. You may only have one chance to do so. Do not squander it."

"Outstanding advice," Legolas agreed quietly.

"Yes, my lord," Galithil replied once more, his expression grim.

"And one final matter: before you leave, you will discuss this plan with your betrothed wife and do your best to both make her comfortable with it and to impress upon her the importance of not gossiping about it, even amongst her family. Especially amongst her family."

Galithil frowned. "Maidhien will not be happy with me over this, but she will understand and accept it. And she already knows not to gossip. Indeed, in my absence, you personally will likely be kept well informed of her family's gossip."

"Tell her to speak to me whenever she wishes," Thranduil replied. Then, he turned to Conuion. "Who will you send with Galithil and Dolgailon?" he asked.

"Galithil's regular guard cannot go," Conuion replied. "Colloth would recognize Manadhien. We had already suggested sending Galuauth and Lanthir, so I recommend they guard Galithil specifically. I would also send Heledir, to help Galudiron guard Dolgailon. There are no other choices, my lord. Everyone else remaining in the Guard cannot go for the same reason Colloth cannot, if our intent is to spy rather than arrest her immediately."

"Very well," Thranduil agreed. "And Colloth will guard Legolas, since Galuauth and Lanthir are going with Galithil?"

Conuion nodded. "That would be my recommendation. Until you, Belloth, Hurion, Pendurion and I leave to arrest Fuilin and Glilavan, they will still be available in the capital to escort the Queen or other members of the family, as need be. Afterwards, there will be no one but Colloth, but there is nothing to be done. We have stretched the Guard to the absolute limit, my lord."

"So I see," Thranduil muttered. "I have another task for you, Conuion," he continued. "While we wait this month to see if Dolgailon and Galithil might learn anything about this remaining spy, you will be working on the same problem here. To start with, I want you to speak to everyone that knew of Legolas's involvement in Demil and Mauril's deaths, including everyone in this room. Even me. Ask them who they have discussed it with and who was present when they heard of those incidents and then go speak to those people. Do the same with them. Make a list of everyone that knew or might have known. One of those people has to be the person we are searching for. I want to know who that person is."

"Yes, my lord," Conuion replied.

Thranduil frowned. "Send the owl to Tulus and Tureden tonight." He turned to Dolgailon. "You and Galithil may leave tomorrow."

"Yes, my lord," Dolgailon replied, grasping Galithil's shoulder.

Thranduil leaned against the back of his chair. He had a very uneasy feeling about these plans.

*~*~*

In the far south of the realm, under a rotting tree covered with black slime and veiled in dark mist, an orc warrior ambled towards his commander.

"I seen that filthy hawk again," he growled. "It ain't hers."

"Next time you see it, kill it," his commander grunted in reply, never turning more than the slightest fraction of his attention away from the bone he was licking clean.

From some distance away, Glilavan frowned. Careful to keep his head bowed and to let his hair fall on either side of his face, he studied the tangle of roots and rocks on the edge of the ravine that ran along the western border of his new home. 'His home!' he all but snarled to himself. His gaze flicked to the orcs and then to Fuilin, asleep in the shelter. Then he returned to sharpening his knife. At least watching the ravine was better than watching the orcs. He could not imagine anyway this could be made worse. And that fact might be the best aspect of this situation.

*~*~*

elleth/ellyth -- Female elf/elves

AN: Apologies to John Steinbeck for the appropriation of his words for the title of this chapter.

Also, while it is a nice dream that I will post a chapter a week, I doubt I will. It will probably be more like every two weeks.