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The Enemy Within  by daw the minstrel

AN: Set immediately after "My Brother's Keeper." Legolas is equivalent of 14 in human years. Written to celebrate the publication of my YA fantasy, Deep as a Tomb (Loose Leaves Press), now available in both paperback and e-book ($3.99 for e-book).  Read, review, fanfic it, whatever! Enjoy, I hope. -- daw

 

Chapter 6. The King Takes Action

"Your Majesty," Camil said, "in thanks for entertaining my children and me at this feast, allow me to make you a gift of this pretty little charm." He held out a piece of carved ivory on a silver chain, identical to the charm he had pinned to the ribbon tying back his hair.

Thranduil let his eyelids droop and looked down his nose at this pest of a merchant. "Among elves, it is not customary to sell goods at a feast, Master Merchant."

"I'm not selling. It's a gift." Camil lifted the charm as if hoping Thranduil would take a better look and be persuaded. When Thranduil failed to take the jewelry, his smile faltered, but he still set the charm on the table and gave it a pat. "It's a gift." He bowed and moved on.

Lifting his wine cup, Thranduil spoke quietly to Ithilden. "Trade is important, but perhaps we should deal with someone a little less driven."

"Given the goods he has stored in Arost's cottage, Camil would be very unhappy to hear that." Ithilden rubbed his hand over his tight braids, making the charm in one dance. "I thought Eilian was almost better."

"I thought so too, but that display was beyond even his normal lack of control."

"One more reason to mistrust my recent judgment," Ithilden said.

Thranduil frowned down into his wine. "You are blaming yourself far too much for Gelmir's disappearance. In battle, these things happen." Thranduil blotted out his own memory of Gelmir and Eilian as small children running through the snow, apple cheeked from the cold. "As for Eilian, if your judgment is flawed, so is mine."

A yell drew Thranduil's attention to a crowd of dancers in the center of the Green. Three elves had been leaping and whirling higher and higher, competing with one another, and having apparently spun himself dizzy, one of them had fallen against a dancing couple. The maiden from the couple was shouting at him, and her partner was shouldering in with his fists raised. What was wrong with his people tonight? Where were those with cooler heads who should be breaking up the argument? Perhaps the feast had reached a stage where he should send Legolas home.

He looked toward the table where his youngest son should be but saw only Turgon, Annael, and Jardin watching the developing fight with open mouths. He felt a flash of irritation. Legolas had already wandered out of sight once tonight. Keeping track of his third son at night was proving more difficult than it should be. "Where's Legolas?"

"He went off a few moments ago with Gwaleniel. Was he supposed to stay on the Green?"

"He was supposed to stay where I could see him. Why did he want the healer? Was he hurt?"

"Not that I saw," Ithilden said. "Frankly, I assumed he was fetching her for Eilian who had done something risky because he was angry with me."

Shouts of "Stop!" drew Thranduil's attention back to the dancers. More elves were shoving one another, and through the shifting crowd, Thranduil glimpsed someone drawing his boot dagger.

Ithilden had seen it too and bracing one hand on the table, he jumped over it and ran toward the fight, calling and beckoning to the table full of warriors next to the younglings. They sprinted into the fray, drawing their swords as they went, but holding them carefully so as not to hurt the onlookers.

Locked in one another's grip, a pair of wrestling elves staggered out of the crowd and crashed into the table where the younglings sat. Annael barely jumped out of their way. The table tipped over, flinging cups of wine left and right and dumping the wrestlers into the dirt. They rolled over once, and the one who landed on top began punching the other. Ithilden's warriors were too busy shouting for order and cracking heads in the middle of the Green to notice this side battle.

Enough! The children were right there! Thranduil sprang to his feet and rushed toward the mess. He had an instant to realize that every muscle in his body sang with relief at finding a target for the irritation he'd felt building all day. Then he had hold of both elves by the scruff of the neck and was lifting them to their feet. When the fools still lunged at one another, he bared his teeth and shook them until they turned on him. One of them landed a sharp elbow in Thranduil's ribs before both faces went pale as they saw who held them, and they went limp in his grip. He loosened but didn't release his hold and looked at the younglings. Turgon's eyes were wide with fascination, a look Thranduil had seen with alarm on his son's friend before, but Annael was swallowing convulsively and Jardin had grabbed his arm.

"Are you hurt?" Thranduil asked. They all shook their heads, and Annael's father chose that moment to arrive, bow hastily, and hustle both boys away. He extended a hand to Jardin, but she didn't take it.

"My father will come," she said breathlessly.

"He started it, my lord," one of the elves said. Thranduil shook him again and, for good measure, his opponent too, hard enough that both elves' earring bounced.

When Ithilden appeared at Thranduil elbow, holding the elf who'd drawn his dagger, Thranduil let go of the wrestlers. "Are you all possessed?" Thranduil snarled, raking his gaze over the wrestlers and the dagger wielder. "Has something taken over what passes for your minds?"

"It has." To Thranduil's surprise, Legolas and Eilian skidded to a halt at Ithilden's side, both panting. Eilian snatched off the ivory charm attached to Ithilden's braid, making his brother jerk away as a few strands of his hair came with it. "This." Eilian held the charm out for Thranduil's inspection. Ithilden touched his ear, blinking as if he'd just awakened.

"The charms talk inside your head," Legolas said excitedly. "They say things that sound good when they talk, but that you know aren't really true when you think about it."

To Thranduil's relief, Camil rushed into sight and embraced his daughter. Thranduil had been half afraid the man would fail his child. Still it would be better if she'd gone with the boys because he had questions for Camil.

"Are you hurt?" Camil asked, then glared at Thranduil. "What kind of gathering is this?"

Too fast for the man to react, Thranduil drew his own boot dagger and put the point to Camil's throat. Jardin screamed, but Thranduil gritted his teeth and ignored it. His people were at stake here. "A gathering that resembles the one in the alehouse where you met with my raft elf and doubtless distributed your wares. I knew there was something odd about you."

"What are you talking about?" Camil sounded as if he were struggling to breathe.

"These whisperers of evil," Thranduil snarled, pointing to the charms Eilian held. "Did you make them yourself?"

"I don't know what you mean." Camil nearly sobbed.

Jardin grabbed his arm and looked defiantly at Thranduil. "Leave him alone."

"Easterlings pay him to distribute the cursed things," Eilian said.

"Is that true?" Thranduil demanded. "Are you in league with the enemy?"

"No!" Camil frowned. "They press you to be quarrelsome? That can't even be true. I'm wearing one and I was never a man who enjoyed a fight. My children wear them, and you don't see them fighting."

"Wait, Adar." Eilian pulled off the ribbon tying Camil's hair back and added the charm on it to the one he'd taken from Ithilden's braid. "They don't always whisper about fighting."

Thranduil wondered what the charm had whispered to Eilian and felt a flash of pain that whatever it was had preyed on a weakness he knew his son was struggling against. What had it whispered to obsessively responsible Ithilden, who saw everyone as his to defend? What corruption had it aimed at the precious remnants of Legolas's childhood innocence? He turned back to Camil. "You may not enjoy fighting," he said slowly, "but you do enjoy making money."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Camil said with dignity. "My family has to eat."

"You have been--" Jardin hesitated. "You've pushed more lately. You have time for nothing else, not even us."

Emotions Thranduil couldn't read flickered across Camil's face, ending in him releasing a long breath "I swear I didn't know. Jardin, I didn't mean it. You can't believe that of me."

Thranduil pulled his dagger away from Camil's neck and looked at Ithilden. "Take your warriors and tell everyone to get rid of the charms. Let these three go on promise of good behavior." Ithilden snapped his fingers at his warriors and moved out on the Green to do Thranduil's bidding. The elves Thranduil had separated and the one held by Ithilden lost no time fleeing from Thranduil's sight.

"I am willing to believe you have been deceived, Master Merchant," Thranduil told Camil. "But I want you to take all your goods out of my forest at dawn."

"With pleasure." Camil put his arm around Jardin, although to Thranduil that looked more like a need for support than affection. Still it was possible he was being unjust. A short while ago, he'd seen his own sons go after one another with words as harsh as he'd ever heard them exchange. "Where's Hoth?" Camil asked.

"He went back to the palace to go to bed," Legolas said.

Something in his tone made Thranduil send him a sharp look. Legolas quickly turned to watch Ithilden collecting ivory charms on the Green, while Eilian gave Thranduil a bright smile. Thranduil decided to let it go. Hoth was Camil's responsibility, and everyone was happier if the young sometimes chose to keep their secrets. Only sometimes though.

"We will be gone before morning." Camil and Jardin moved off toward the palace, her arms around his waist, his hand on her thin shoulder.

"Eilian?" a voice said, and Thranduil saw that Gelmir's parents stood just behind Eilian. Eilian flinched, then smoothed his face and turned to greet them. Thranduil felt a moment of respect for his son's care toward his friend's father and mother.

"Mae govannen," Eilian said cheerily. "I'm afraid the excitement is all over. It was fun while it lasted though."

Gelmir's mother patted Eilian's arm. "You don't have to try to dissemble, Eilian. I've been able to see through that charming smile since you were tiny. We know you must be worried about Gelmir."

Eilian's back was to Thranduil, so he couldn't see his son's face, but he saw the slump in his shoulders.

"He's just missing, that's all. And they're looking for him as hard as they can," Eilian said. "You know Gelmir. He's tough. Otherwise he never would have survived being my friend all these years."

"He is tough," Gelmir's father said, "and we wanted to tell you that we're both sure he's alive. We feel it through our bonds with him. What's more, he feels hopeful."

"Really?" Eilian straightened. "Since when?"

"Since a few moments ago," Gelmir's father said. "Come home with us, Eilian. Spend a few hours sharing talk about our son."

Thranduil knew a few hours with Gelmir's staid parents would hardly be Eilian's idea of an entertaining evening and yet, Eilian said, "Gladly." He looked over his shoulder. "By your leave, Adar?" He waited for Thranduil's nod and then left. Thranduil watched the three of them go. For Eilian's sake, as well as Gelmir's, he hoped Gelmir's parents were right. It had been his experience that by the time his sons were Eilian and Gelmir's age, they could often hide their emotions from him if they thought those emotions would upset him.

Legolas watched them go, too, frowning slightly. "Adar, how much can you feel through our bond?"

Thranduil cocked his head. "More than you hope, but less than I'd like."

Legolas flicked a look at a group of maidens who were huddled together, engaging in happily horrified Wood-elf chatter about the fight on the Green. His frown deepened and spots of color appeared on his cheeks.

Thranduil suppressed a smile. Let Legolas wonder a little. Some extra caution wouldn't hurt when he eventually became old enough to venture into romance. Not yet, of course.

"Legolas?" A feminine voice startled Thranduil, but he saw that Alfirin had approached. "Legolas, do you know if my naneth is coming back? My adar wants to know if we should wait for her before we leave."

"I don't know," Legolas said.

Thranduil glimpsed Ithilden standing near one of his warriors but looking at him and Legolas. Or really, of course, at Alfirin. Enough silliness, he decided. Thranduil beckoned, and Ithilden promptly walked toward him.

"Ithilden will escort you home, Alfirin," Thranduil said briskly. "No reason for you to hang about while your adar waits for your naneth."

Both Alfirin and Ithilden blinked at him. Then Legolas suppressed a snort and Ithilden threw him a filthy look. He extended his arm and Alfirin slipped her hand through it. Heads high, the two of them walked away. On the other side of the Green, Thranduil saw Alfirin's father half rise and then sit again looking confused. Thranduil had no idea where the elf's wife was, though he suspected Legolas and Eilian both knew, but Thranduil hoped Erendrinn would wait a long time.

Thranduil found himself alone with his youngest son. He looked at Legolas thoughtfully. The boy was taller than Thranduil had noticed. "You and Eilian were clever to realize what was happening, Legolas. The two of you served your people well tonight. I may even ignore the fact that you were once again where you weren't supposed to be."

"Really, it was a good idea to let me out of my room," Legolas said hopefully.

Thranduil laughed. "If you behave for just one more week, you'll be out for good, I hope, depending on your future actions of course."

"Adar, you can't treat me like a child forever," Legolas said.

s

"Forever? No. But tonight? Yes, I can." Having to raise his arm higher than he remembered, he put a hand on Legolas's shoulder and turned him toward the palace. "Come. Let us go home."     





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