News

Chapter Two: News

After two weeks of milling about my chambers, I was on a first name basis with every leaf woven into my carpet and every crack in the stone walls. I was on the verge of a complete break with reality. Autumn was approaching, and the leaves had begun to show the subtle signs of preparing to blaze into all their splendor, but the only time I got to see them was the three hours we spent daily on the practice fields. I had not climbed one tree or run through the woods playing. No, not once. There had been no fun in the king’s halls at all. None.

Legolas and I spent four hours every morning with our dour old tutor, Borgil, ate midday meal and then, went off to the practice fields. After practice, we went straight to the dungeons our parents called our chambers and did the lessons Borgil was thoughtful enough to pile on us. We had all manner of extra time, he pointed out. I translated enough Dwarvish and Quenya to write a book in both languages. I did suggest somewhere around the middle of the first week that he should embellish our knowledge of this fair Dwarvish language with some color, just for fun, of course. He merely looked at me as if I had sprouted horns and went back to assigning more paragraphs to be translated by the next morning. I drew maps of everywhere anybody had ever been, memorized the names of people that were so long dead that the names even felt dusty in my mouth and figured enough numbers to have an accurate record of every leaf in the forest. It was a good thing Uncle had us give our weapons to Aldamir, or I might have slit my throat. Somewhere around the second week, I pointed out at an evening meal that I did not recall Uncle sentencing us to the life of a scholar. For some reason, all the adults found this humorous. I was dead serious.

On the morning of the fourteenth day (and I was counting) I had high expectations when I trotted off to morning meal. I fidgeted, exchanged glances with Legolas every few seconds and ate heartily just to show them that I was well adjusted and properly repentant. Uncle said not a word about releasing us from our doom. All the adults sipped tea, ate their meals and chatted merrily about subjects I found as interesting as Lúthien and Beren. How much more dull can one get than memorizing Lays about gushy love stories? I did not think anything could be worse until I sat through this meal.

Just as I was on the verge of standing up and screaming, "What about us?", a knock came to the door of the family dining room, and a guard slipped in. He bowed to the king and queen and then turned to Aldamir, placing his hand over his heart in formal salute. "My lord, forgive me for interrupting your meal, but a missive has been delivered for you. It was requested that it be placed into your hands immediately."

 "Who brought this to the palace?" Aldamir asked, as he took the sealed letter from the guard.

 "Galenas, my lord."

We all knew who Galenas was. He is the second to Erelas, but he is not usually a messenger. That was intriguing. Not only did the guard interrupt our meal (something that never happened) but the messenger was a fairly high-ranking elf.

"Does he require a reply?" Aldamir asked.

"No, my lord. He has already left to rejoin his patrol."

‘Thank you," Aldamir said. "You are dismissed."

The guard bowed once again and scurried out the door.

No one said anything as Aldamir opened the message, read it, closed it back up and tucked it in his tunic. Then, as if this happened everyday, he took up his spoon and began to eat porridge again. I looked at Legolas and saw his eyes were glued to his brother’s face. There was nothing to see there. Aldamir looked as blank as a bare wall. Everyone else went back to eating and chatting.

"What did it say?" Legolas asked, finally unable to stand the suspense, I suppose. I know I was squirming around in my seat to know what was so important that it required the guard to come to the dining room.

Aldamir took the letter from his tunic, glanced at it and then tucked it back in. "No, it did not say, ‘To Legolas’. I suppose that means it does not concern you, little one?" He smiled then, looking very amused by his brother’s curiosity. "It is nothing for you to worry about. It is merely a routine communication."

"Then why did the guard bring it here? He could have waited for you in your office," Legolas said.

Thranduil shifted lightly toward his youngest. "Legolas, if Aldamir says it is nothing for you to worry about, then it is so. It is not your place to ask such questions."

From the look on Legolas’ face, I could see he did not want to let this go, and since Legolas is far from dull-witted, he was most likely considering the fact that pursuing the matter could easily raise Uncle’s ire when we were so desperate to be set free. This was a prudent consideration, as we both knew how Uncle felt about the thousand and one questions we could ask in the course of one day. Uncle would gladly answer questions all day long about why the sky is blue, why do birds sing, why do elleths wear gowns and any other inquiry we might have as to how Arda works. But, he did not take kindly to us poking around in the business of running the realm. However, like Legolas, I did not want to simply forget the whole thing, so I thought to spread out our inquires. It was always possible Uncle might slip up and tell us something useful, though I do not recall that ever happening. It was worth a tactful effort. "But I have never known a message to be delivered during a meal," I added for support.

Uncle merely gave me that indulgent smile he employs on occasion that says: you are either too young or too unimportant to give a straight answer. "Then you have not lived very long." Too young. It was the too young to understand smile.

Before we could devise further tactics to pursue the mystery, Aldamir stood and bowed slightly to his adar and placed a light kiss on his naneth’s cheek. "By your leave, Adar, I will await you in your office."

Thranduil nodded, keeping his wary eye (the one where he looks at us without really looking at us) on Legolas and me. Surely, they did not think they were fooling us?

Aldamir motioned to Seregon as he left. My brother bowed to the king, kissed Naneth and Lalaith and followed him out.

It was not a full minute later when Uncle stood, thereby getting us all up from our seats, with the exception of my naneth and the queen. They are exempt from standing when he does unless it is a formal setting, and meals are usually not formal unless someone important is dining with us, but then, we would not be eating in the family dining room but in the Great Hall. Even under such formal circumstances, the queen does not stand unless she feels like it. He motioned us back to our chairs and leaned over to place a quick kiss on Lalaith’s lips. He is something of an affectionate Elf when he is in the mood. As he passed Legolas and me, he dropped a soft kiss on both our heads and gave our shoulders a firm pat. He had almost passed us when he said, "You two have completed your punishment and may now return to your daily routines."

My heart leapt for joy! "Thank you, Uncle," I grinned.

Legolas smiled as if he had suddenly been given wings, which, in a way, he had. "Thank you, Ada."

"Behave," was all Thranduil added as he passed out the door. I was sure we would get another lecture before being freed, but this untimely message had, at least, saved us another round of hearing a list of our transgressions.

To our misfortune, we had not been completely saved. With wide silly grins on our faces, we both turned back to the table to find our naneths watching us closely. My smile melted, and my face froze like a pond in dead winter.

"I do not think I should have to speak to you again, Legolas, about your conduct. You know what is appropriate behavior," Auntie said, her eyes locked onto Legolas’ in a death stare. "The two of you," she said, sliding her ice blue gaze to include me, "will need to walk a very straight line. You are old enough to know better, and I will not have your behavior reflect poorly on this family. Whether you will it or not, your behavior is viewed differently than that of other elflings . It is watched and scrutinized. When you misbehave, it will cause talk. I will accept nothing less than what is required of you as a son of the king and you," her eyes drifted back to me, "as a future lord of this realm. Neither your positions nor your behavior are negotiable. It is the way it is, and you will conduct yourself as befitting your stations. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Nana." Legolas answered, his voice soft.

"Daeron? Do you understand what Lalaith has said?" my naneth asked. "She and I are in perfect agreement in this. Any more misconduct will be met with harsh penalty, and I assure you that you will not like it."

"I understand," I answered, feeling lower than a snakes’s belly. How was it that she could make me feel so wholly terrible?

"Now," my naneth said, "you must hurry or you will be late for lessons. After practice this afternoon the two of you may go outside and play for a while. Stay close to the palace. Do not wander off."

Neither Uncle, nor Aldamir, nor Seregon came to midday meal. Nana and Auntie Lalaith would say no more than they were busy. It was obvious that they were not going to tell us anything, so Legolas and I began to try to work out how we could find out what was going on.

The palace guards were always alert, but today they looked even more so. During our afternoon training, our weapons masters’ eyes kept scanning the trees as if they expected an army of orcs to come charging through at any minute, and they would not have anyone to fight them but a rag-tag group of elflings who were lucky to hit the target on their best days. I would not say they were nervous, as the only Elves I had ever seen nervous were Legolas and me when we were in trouble, but I would say they were on their toes. Something was happening. We simply had to solve the problem of how to get that information.

As we were nearing the end of archery practice, I watched Legolas line up to take his shot. Orocarni, our archery master, adjusted Legolas’ elbow, his anchor point and then ran his hand down Legolas’ back to ensure a straight spine. It is not as if we do anything fancy in our routines; it is fairly straight-forward technique, aim and delivery, but Orocarni is not one to allow us to be slack. He drills us repeatedly until we master each step. "There is no room for error," he stresses daily, which, I might add, depresses me to no end since I am prone to error in almost everything I do.

When Legolas had loosed his arrow and it fell with a swift and final dull thud, it sat perfectly in the center of the target eye. My grin was nearly as wide and pleased as Legolas’ was when he turned back to us. "Very good!" Orocarni said, giving Legolas a quick pat to his shoulder. "You are showing tremendous improvement."

"Thank you," Legolas said softly, but I could see that he was terribly proud. As well he should be. Though none of us was going to win any archery contests, Legolas far outshines any of the rest of us. He seems to possess some kind of natural talent. It is as though he can sense where his bolt should fall. Sighting the target seems secondary to him in knowing where to place his aim. As young as we are, he is extremely gifted. I was proud of him, too. I like to see him smile and laugh.

As another of our group stepped forward to take his shot, I noticed movement to the side of the field. Aldamir had settled himself against a tall beech to watch. This, in itself, is not all that unusual. He is responsible for all the warriors of the realm and keeping an eye on the future ranks is not unheard of for him. The funny thing was I felt he was eyeing two particular elflings on that day, and I had a sinking feeling that it was his two relatives.

While I was contemplating the presence of the troop commander, I lost where I was in line. Orocarni called my name. "Daeron. It is your turn. Daeron!"

I snapped back front and center and hurried to stand on the mark. As I nocked my arrow and pulled my bow up to draw, I felt Orocarni’s hands over mine. "Lift your chin slightly and sight down the shaft." When he was satisfied with my stance and anchor point, he stepped back. "At your will," he said mildly.

I could see the center of the target and tried to feel it, just as I thought Legolas would do without even knowing he was doing it, and let the trajectory of the arrow become the destination of all my senses. It sounds so ridiculous that I hate to even say it, but I wanted to become one with that arrow. It was a subtle feeling, nothing bone-shattering, but I could feel, as well as see, exactly where I wanted my arrow to land. I exhaled, drew in another calm breath as I pulled further back on my bow string and in my mind, traveled the distance with my arrow as I let it fly. I was almost afraid to look to see where it had landed, but the suspense was killing me, so I looked. There it was, solid without so much as a gentle sway, imbedded just slightly within the inner ring. Not a perfect point like Legolas’, but it was in the center! I wanted to whoop and holler, but Orocarni would have frowned on such a display, so I smiled my best I am an Elf smile and nearly ran to Legolas.

"Excellent, Daeron," Orocarni said, sounding every bit as surprised as I was. "Remember how that felt for that is the way you do it!" He began to pick up his equipment, and when he had gathered his bow and quiver, he turned to us. "A very good run today. Each and every one of you is showing great strides in improvement. The older you get and the more developed your muscles, the more swift progress you will see. If you continue to practice, and work hard on your form and aim, you will all be pleasantly surprised at how much improvement you will see over the next few years. You will truly be prepared to move into the novice ranks."

Legolas and I smiled at each other. I liked the sound of that. Novice!

Orocarni gave us a pleased grin and waved us on. "You are dismissed. I will see you all tomorrow."

Of course, the whole group was chattering gaily as we left the practice field. As Legolas and I started toward the path to take us home, Aldamir joined us. I immediately went on alert, searching my memory for what I could have possibly done in less than twelve hours since morning meal that would warrant the appearance of the commander. He seemed relaxed enough as he fell in between us and placed an arm around our shoulders. "How was archery today?" he asked.

Legolas turned to his brother, his eyes alight and his smile broad. "Did you see my last shot?"

"Indeed, I did," he smiled. "You are doing very well, Legolas. Adar will be pleased to hear." He gave me a quick squeeze, "And you, young cousin Daeron, likewise, I observed a fine showing from you. Excellent hit! You dropped that bolt as easily as butter glides over toast." He smiled even wider. "I am very proud of both of you. Keep up the good work." My chest swelled with pride.

As we traveled the path back to the palace, we talked a little about nothing terribly important. It was not until we crossed the bridge that Aldamir got around to saying what he had come to say. "Are you planning to come back out and play?" he asked, mildly.

"Yes, of course." Legolas chuckled. "We have been confined far too long."

"That is for certain," I agreed with a sigh of breath that felt like air from a dusty cupboard.

"Good," Aldamir said. "It is a lovely day to spend some time among the trees." He turned to us with a steady look. "Adar does not want you to venture any further than the grandfather oak to the west and no further than the little stream to the south. Do not stray any further into the woods."

"But, why?" Legolas cried out. "We are no longer confined. Adar said we could go back to doing what we normally do."

"Because that is what he said, Legolas," Aldamir told us.

"Are we in trouble for something?" I asked, cautiously. This was one of those questions that you desire to know the answer, but are afraid to actually hear it. And this confinement was a worrisome development since whenever we get reined in, it is due to some infraction we have perpetrated, willingly or not. Certainly, I did not wish to be in trouble again so soon.

"You have done nothing," Aldamir said and then added with a sly smile, "that I know about."

"Then it makes no sense," Legolas complained. "We have not been restricted to those areas since we were twenty."

Aldamir exhaled slowly. "You have two choices, Legolas. You may play in the area Adar has decreed or you may play in the palace. The choice is yours."

"They are not particularly good choices," I mumbled, but I did feel a certain amount of relief that this unexpected restriction was not due to some inadvertent misdeed on our part.

"Nevertheless, they are your only options," Aldamir told us as he turned to head toward Seregon and another warrior who had just exited the Great Doors. The three of them moved over to the side and were quickly engulfed in a quiet, but serious-looking conversation. So, that was that!

Legolas shot me a wicked stare that said he was most unhappy and started up the steps. I sighed heavily and followed. After we placed our bows and quivers in our chambers, then we would play in the baby area. This just plain rankled.

As we went into the Grand Entry Hall, passed the doors of the Great Hall and The Throne Room, we turned down the middle corridor to the family wing. When we were out of ear shot of the guards, I turned to Legolas. "What is this all about?"

Legolas shrugged. "I have no idea." Suddenly he stopped. "There must be something going on in the woods! Remember the message Aldamir got this morning during morning meal? That is what all this is about." His eyes widened like milk saucers. "You do not think that orcs have gotten this close to Adar’s stronghold, do you?"

I snorted and shook my head. "If there were orcs about, we would be locked in our chambers with our Nanas standing guard with the guards."

Our parents would never let us out at all if they feared orcs pressing this close into home territory. Then a more horrifying thought struck me. "What if it is spiders? What if they have come in droves into the nearby woods?" Oh, how I hate spiders. Even the little creepy crawly ones that live in the gardens. I try not to kill them because Naneth says they have a job to do too, and she says they are more afraid of me than I am of them. Personally, I cannot see that happening. They sneer and laugh at me when I break out into a cold sweat. I have seen them do it. I had rather face The Dark Lord, himself, than a spider. A chill ran down my spine.

One of the biggest mistakes of my life was to tell Legolas about my extreme dislike of eight-legged crawly things. Back in the spring when all the creatures of the woods began to stir in earnest, Legolas brought an old ada long legs to evening meal hidden in his pocket. When I was not looking, he put it on my shoulder. I have no idea how long it had been tromping around all over me with its dirty little feet, but I finally spied it as it ambled willy-nilly down my arm. This was one of those moments in my life that I would give anything to erase from memory, mine especially. My chair fairly flew through the air as I jumped up, swatting spastically at the horrible creature. When I finally connected with it, the back of my hand sent it sailing across the table into Seregon’s plate. At that moment, I thought I was surely on my way to the Halls of Waiting since I could not draw a single breath. Apparently, Legolas found my utter distress so amusing that he was falling out his chair laughing.

"It is just a small spider, Daeron," my naneth told me as if I had no idea what it was. However, we most definitely disagreed on its size. It was certainly big enough for me.

That was when I noticed that my entire family found the whole episode humorous. Aldamir had his face buried in his dinner cloth, but he was not fooling me; his shoulders were shaking as if he were having some sort of spell. Seregon was looking at the frozen spider sitting on his stewed fruit with his lips pressed together so tightly they had turned white. Naneth was not laughing out loud, but she had a grip on her midriff that told the true story. Auntie Lalaith looked every bit the queen, calm, collected and most likely counting the number of spoons on the table in order to maintain her composure. Even Thranduil looked ready to burst into peals of hilarity. And all this time, Legolas was all but rolling on the floor.

Seregon finally picked up the sorry little invader by one of his many nasty little feet and held him aloft. "There now, Daeron. You have frightened the poor spider out of his wits."

All I could do was pound my chest with my hand, still struggling to breathe, and croak out, "Me?"

Seregon rose (regally, I might add) from his seat and carried the spider to the dining room door and offered it to one of the guards. The guard, being duly sworn to obey, took the dangling offender by the same leg and walked toward the Great Doors to send him on his merry way, I suppose.

"Legolas," Thranduil said, with far too little authority, I thought. This was not the time to go weak in his reign. When his detestable youngest child did not cease his squall of laughter, he attempted once again to get his attention. "Legolas!"

Gulping air and drying the tears running down his face, Legolas finally squeaked out a weak, "Yes, Adar?"

"Do you know anything about this?" Thranduil asked.

"It...it was a spider!" was all my dear cousin managed to get out before he fell once again into his jolly little laughing fit.

"As we are all aware," Thranduil announced. "Do you happen to know how it came to be on Daeron’s arm?"

Legolas squealed as a fresh batch of tears spilled over and ran down his flushed cheeks. "It walked!" he screamed.

"Daeron, pick up your chair, dear," Naneth told me as if somehow all could be made right if I just righted the furniture. "And sit back down." Oh yes, I grumbled to myself, that would do it. Put me back next to the happy little Elf prankster. I picked up my chair by two fingers, inspecting it from top to bottom, side to side and underneath. Though I was not satisfied that no further danger lurked in some dark recess of carved wood and tapestry upholstery, I dropped it carefully upright. Only then, did I sit gingerly down on the edge of the cushion, just in case an entire clutch of spiders were waiting for me to sit within their reach. I remained a good two feet away from the table and as far away from Legolas as I could get without moving my chair to the other side of the room.

Thranduil was trying to gain some modicum of control at his table, but everyone was still on the verge of going completely over the edge. "Legolas, if you cannot control yourself, then I suggest you go out into the corridor until which time you can," Uncle said, clearing his throat.

This only brought a renewed fit of giggles to Legolas and, since he obviously could not control himself, he fell sideways from his chair, miraculously landing on his feet and laughing all the way out the door.

"Now," Thranduil said, "let us resume our meal." That was when he noticed that Aldamir was still buried behind his dinner cloth. With a barely disguised amused sigh, he turned to the commander of the fiercest contingent of Elven warriors in all of Arda and asked, "Aldamir, do you need to join your brother in the corridor?"

With deliberate slowness, Aldamir gently pressed his hands into his face and then lowered his cloth. Taking a deep breath, he sat up straight and placed the cloth back in his lap. That was when he made his mistake; he looked at me. His cheeks turned bright red, air sputtered from his lips and he rose quickly. "By your leave, Adar," he spat out.

Thranduil waved his hand in dismissal. "Go!"

My stoic, always-in-control cousin fled as if an army of orcs were in pursuit.

We lost Seregon then. He jumped to his feet, managing only to puff out a single word, "Uncle?"

"Go," Thranduil sighed.

That left me with only the naneths and uncle. Auntie Lalaith never even looked at me, she simply rose as elegantly as if she were greeting a visiting dignitary and announced with faltering calm, "I should check on the children." She stumbled slightly and swayed precariously, but was out the door faster than Aldamir.

The door had barely clicked shut, when my own naneth, the one to bring me into this woe-begotten world and overly happy little family, rose and muttered, "I should help Lalaith." She was gone.

We were a small party of two now, and I turned my gaze to Uncle to see how long he was going to last. To my horror, as I turned my head, a lock of hair fell over my shoulder. I shot out of my chair as if it had suddenly burst into flames and yelped loud enough to be heard in Dol Guldur, all the while beating my hand against my arm to throw off something that was not there. That was it for the good king. He stood, his carriage perfectly straight and his face a flushed but impassive mask. "I should speak to them," he said, as he calmly walked out into the corridor to join all the members of my family. It must have been a fine little family reunion for they all seemed to be having a grand time. The guards must have thought we had all gone mad. Since I was all by myself now, I glanced around the room and saw that one lone servant still hovered at the door of the passageway that ran to the kitchens. When my eyes found her, she nearly doubled over, clamped her hand to her mouth and melted into the shadows. I yanked my chair upright again and flopped down. "They probably want you in the kitchen," I snapped and crossed my arms. I could wait. Revenge, I am told, is a dish best served cold. He would never see it coming.

As Legolas and I stood in the corridor and contemplated the cause of our play area being inexplicably changed, he shook his head. "No, it cannot be spiders. They would not let us out then either."

No, I thought, pithily, as I relived that particularly ugly moment in Mirkwood royal history; he will never see it coming.

Legolas and I settled ourselves into the grandfather oak since it was the largest tree in the vicinity. Its voice was deep and reassuring as it muttered to us a warm welcome and offered the kind sheltering of graceful limbs that had carefully held elfings uncounted. I leaned back against the trunk and glanced around to see if there was anything that told of the forest being different. I saw nothing unusual.

Legolas had his cheek pressed tenderly against the truck as he stood on a limb to my right. His eyes were tightly shut and his breathing soft and regular. I have to admit that he has a way with the forest. I have one, too, but I rarely stopped long enough to hear the faint whispering. With Legolas along, I rarely needed to. "What does he say?" I asked, when Legolas finally stirred.

Legolas shrugged and sat down on the wide gnarly limb. "There is something disturbing the quiet of the trees, but this one has not seen what it is."

"Probably one of the reasons Uncle does not want us to go any further into the forest. The trees here know little," I complained, coming uncomfortably close to pouting. I picked up a small spotted beetle and let her walk up my finger. She seemed content and undisturbed by whatever had roused the Elves living in her forest. I let her down onto the trunk and watched her stroll further down the tree toward the ground. I sighed heavily and started to formulate a plan. "We will have to get the information from someone who knows."

"How?" Legolas asked. "No one will tell us."

"Maybe not intentionally, but you know that all the warriors are talking about it." I leaned forward. "Even the masters know. They were talking about it when they stood over to the side this afternoon during blade drills. I saw Orocarni talking to Ambar when we got to the archery field."

"How do you know they were talking about that?"

I shrugged. "It only stands to reason. Even though they were too far away for me to hear them, they looked very serious and kept sweeping the trees with their eyes."

"Training is over for the day," Legolas said as if pondering some great illumination. "The older novices have just finished and the masters will still be in their hut." His eyes lit up like a full moon. "We can sneak up under the window and listen!"

I smiled. "That is exactly what I was going to say." I rolled onto the balls of my feet and squatted. "We will have to very quiet or they will hear us." My smile widened into a silly grin of self assurance. "I can be very quiet."

Legolas laughed. "Then let us practice the stealth of an Elf."

We circled around using the small creek as our path until we came within sight of the masters’ cottage. It is a small two-room building that houses a central office for Melda, the headmaster, and a storage room where the masters’ equipment is kept. Melda’s office also serves as a meeting space for the other masters and is nearly always occupied at the end of a training day.

At the wide path that led to the training fields, we stopped, staying well back in the deep shadows. This is a fairly busy path, especially during the day as novices and masters travel from field to field. We had no way of knowing if everyone had already passed, so we hovered in the shadows as if we were on a life and death scouting mission. In some ways we were; if we were caught eavesdropping on the masters, we would not live long.

Legolas touched me on the shoulder, and after I had settled once again to the forest floor and my heart dropped back into my chest, he pointed down the path. Around the bend from the small sparring field came Orocarni and Galdor, the combat master, walking side by side. They were deep in conversation while moving briskly to the cottage. Neither cast a glance in our direction as they passed into the front of the cottage and out of our sight. I breathed a sigh of relief as Legolas relaxed at my side. We waited for a few more minutes and saw no one else except for a few older novices who were passing through on their way home. They had probably been on the fields with the two late-coming masters.

When all was quiet, I motioned to Legolas, and we scampered across the path like squirrels dodging foot traffic into the bushes that surround the cottage. Silently, we glided along the outer wall until we were under the south window of the masters’ cottage.

Legolas put his index finger to his lips to remind me of our need for silence. He is just plain brilliant sometimes. What did he think I was going to do? Burst into song about the two young members of the royal household that got caught spying on their masters? I made a face at him that properly communicated my feelings about his general intelligence. He responded with a pitiful lip snarl. He can look serious enough, but he is about as fierce as a puppy looking for his next meal.

We pressed closer into the side wall under the window and listened. Apparently, all the masters were present and accounted for. I could not swear to it, since I was not going to pop up and take a head count, but Melda spoke, and all the others in the room grew quiet.

"How did training go this day?" asked our esteemed leader.

"The older novices are progressing well and will be ready to take the oath of service in the spring," Ambar reported.

"And what of Gelmir?" asked Melda. "Has he found his confidence?"

"He has improved greatly," Ambar replied. "His handling of his blades has taken a new direction. He seems to be putting behind earlier misgivings."

"And his handling of the other weapons?" Melda asked.

There was no audible reply, so I assume everyone was nodding their heads in agreement.

"The youngest trainees?" Melda inquired.

"They remain an interesting group," Orocarni replied.

My ears perked up and I saw Legolas’ eyes widen slightly. This was our group.

"In what way?" Melda asked.

"We have spoken of their strengths and weaknesses many times." Orocarni said. "Still, with each day, I see new and interesting changes in them. Many are blossoming into Elves with great potential and others lag behind. It is too early to tell about some of them, but there are a few in whom I have noted some very interesting characteristics of late."

"Of whom do you speak?" Melda asked.

"Young Barahir is showing promise. He has begun to show good consistency in hitting his mark. He is finally beginning to open up. As he gains confidence, his skills with his bow are improving. He is particularly sensitive to the older elflings who have more skill, but seems to be coming out his shell. Legolas continues to show an amazing aptitude for weapons."

Legolas turned to me and smiled. A part of me wanted to grab him by his smug little head, but I have to admit, I was happy for him. He is good.

Orocarni went on. Some people just cannot leave well enough alone. "He lacks the discipline of his oldest brother, and only time will tell if he has the leadership abilities of both his older brothers. His close relationship with Daeron keeps them both suspects of trouble as they are often mischievous when together, but he is confident and for the most part, serious in his training. He is young yet. If he can rein in his mischievous nature, he will be a formidable warrior one day."

I could see by the look on Legolas face that he was not sure if he should be insulted or pleased. I could not help him there, since I had no idea either. My name had been dropped in a most unflattering way.

Ambar spoke next. "For as skilled as Legolas is with a bow, Daeron is equally as skilled with a blade." He chuckled. "If it were not inappropriate, I would inquire of his naneth if he were born with one in his hand. He carries it with an ease that I have not seen since his adar."

I could have died happy right then and there. I was like my adar? I knew he was skilled with a blade, but Naneth and Seregon rarely talked about these kinds of things about Adar. What I had gleaned about his blade abilities had been from small snatches of conversations and bare minimal answers to questions I posed. Suddenly, I felt as if hot tears threatened to well up in my eyes. Not now! I chided myself. While doing something we should not be doing was not the time to get weepy and sentimental. Not to mention, I had this sudden vision of Adar watching me from the Halls of Waiting again. I slithered down the side of the cottage like a slug going for the underbelly of a rock. I would let Legolas be the beacon for Mandos’ eye.

I was so immersed in my self-loathing and Adar-worship-fear, I almost missed Orocarni praising my earlier shot. That mollified me to some degree. I looked up at Legolas and saw he was smiling over his shoulder at me. Involuntarily, I returned his look of unmeasured glee. We might make warrior, after all.

The masters chatted for a bit longer about other trainees and novices, but I could not have cared less. I had all the information I needed. I fingered my knife with the most love I think I had ever felt.

Suddenly, Legolas poked me in the ribs and motioned to the window. Drawing myself up to his level, I pressed my ear closer.

"What word do we have on the intruders?" Galdor, the combat master, was asking when I came up from my spineless position of hiding in plain sight.

"Nothing much since this morning when I met with Aldamir," Melda told them. "The eastern border patrol has been reinforced with additional warriors as has the northern patrol. Aldamir has sent messages to the west and south to inquire if the patrols there have noted any signs of unusual entry."

Haluil, the woodcraft master, spoke next. "It is my understanding that the northern guard tracked the men for some time, but the intruders appeared to possess woodcraft skills beyond those of normal men."

Melda took back up the conversation. "It is true that these men have shown greater skill, but the border guards have large areas to cover and these men have been slipping in and out at points where the guards have already passed."

"Then do you think they have knowledge of troop movement and routine?" Ambar asked.

"I do not see how they could," Melda said, "but they could gain some measure of knowledge by simple observation. Aldamir has ordered all the troops to stagger their routines so there is no regular pattern."

"How close have they come to the Stronghold?" Galdor asked.

"Too close," Melda replied. "Evidence was found as close as the gorge to the south, just below one of the outer settlements and in the north, there were tracks that came within a league northwest of the Stronghold. They came through the forest."

A ripple of murmuring ran through the masters. A tide of fear washed over me. What would men want from us that would make them so bold as to trespass so far into Thranduil’s realm? It is not as though Uncle is fond of human visitors and invites them to drop in for tea. I looked at Legolas and saw he was deep in thought. I can only imagine what Aldamir had to say to his captains, after Uncle got through with what he had to say to Aldamir. This was a major blunder on the part of our troops. How could this happen? Our troops were the best. Did these men have some magic that made them invisible? A chill ran up my spine.

"As it stands," Melda went on, "we are all required to stand at ready to be called to reinforce our defenses should any incursion into home territory occur. These men cannot mean us well or they would not travel with such stealth. Aldamir feels they are testing the waters. They are attempting to see how close they can get without alerting us. If there is any threat, we are to get the trainees and novices to the Stronghold as quickly as possibly and then all others living nearby. But first, before all, get the elfings to safety. All other adults should be able to offer defense of themselves until help comes to them and they can be safely evacuated to the King’s Halls."

"Surely, these men do not think a small band can take on our forces even if they get this far. It would be suicide," remarked Galdor.

"Or a diversion," said Melda. "Aldamir thinks the men may be trying to draw our attention away from whatever it is that they are planning. Whatever it is that they mean to do, it stands to reason that it will not be where their tracks have been spotted."

"They are either very brave men or incredibly foolish," Orocarni remarked.

There was a pause in conversation as the masters apparently gave this some thought. Then Galdor said, his voice low and grave, "I would say that they are dispensable."

As the masters all muttered in agreement, I could hear the shifting of chairs and thought they must all be standing and that would mean that Melda had stood signaling the end of the meeting. I tapped Legolas on the shoulder and motioned off into the woods. Quietly, we turned and moved deeper into the shadows behind the cottage. Once we had cleared a safe distance, we quickly climbed into the trees and made our way silently back to the grandfather oak.

I did not know quite what to say when we settled onto our branches. Legolas looked as if his mind were a thousand leagues away or he was trying to decipher a passage of Common Tongue. (Now, there is a language that has no rhyme or reason! It is about as pleasing to the ear as a blade scrapped across stone.)

"It is men, then," Legolas said, finally breaking a silence that I was beginning to appreciate. It seemed a sound philosophy at the time to simply ignore what we had heard. Maybe it would go away.

"Do you think they mean to attack us?" I asked, my heart lodged so firmly in my throat I was not sure I could breathe.

Legolas turned his gaze to me. "I cannot say, but I think Galdor is correct; it would be suicide and surely these men know this."

"They are dispensable," I repeated. "But to whom? Who would want these men to draw our attention away from them? And why?"

Legolas ran his fingers over the broad bark of his limb. "Adar and Aldamir tell us little about what is going on, but I know that the shadow grows in the south." He looked up at me with more seriousness than I think I have ever seen in his eyes. There was something else, too, something I had never seen in him before. I do not know exactly what it was that had suddenly come to dwell in my normally gentle cousin, but his eyes changed, growing distant, as though he were looking right through me. He appeared intense and singular in whatever design he had set his thoughts upon. It made my blood run cold. As if suddenly springing to life, I felt a surge of some odd emotion that I had never felt replace my surprise at his anger and took hold of it as if my very life depended on it. Indeed, I suppose it did. Without thinking, I fingered the dull blade at my waist. "You know this, too," he said softly.

I nodded my head. Never had I felt so many conflicting emotions. I was terrified at the thought that some real danger was stalking us. I was furious at the audacity of the men and the one who sent them. I felt a strange blood thirst to protect these woods from any evil that wished us harm. And I felt wholly inadequate, too small, too young and too inexperienced. I closed my eyes for a moment and prayed fervently that Seregon would protect our nana. "What will we do?" I whispered.

Legolas shook his head sadly. I do not know what he was feeling, but I thought he must have felt much the same as I did. I knew he felt a dedication to these woods and her people that I also felt, but he was the king’s son. From the moment of his birth, he had been taught that everything in these woods was his responsibility. Even though we did not often show this awareness of duty, we knew it; he knew it. "I do not think there is much that we can do," he finally said. "We are not warriors yet. But," he said, his face set in determination, "I will not stand down from them."

I was not exactly sure how to respond to that. My advice to him would be to run if we were confronted by these intruders. Sometimes, one had to live to fight another day. There was little doubt in my mind that neither he, nor I, could take on a contingent of men or even offer much defense at the warriors’ sides who knew what they were doing. But, neither would I leave him if we had to take a stand. "Me, either," I muttered, unhappily.