Feud

Title: Feud

Summary: A further explanation of some of the wood elves' ideas.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, location, and scenes from the works of JRR Tolkien are the property of his estate. This story is for enjoyment only and not for profit.

OTHER CHARACTERS:
Talagan [Harper]: Captain of Legolas' company, 1st to pass judgement in the field
Fearfaron [Spirit-hunter]: father of Annaldir
Annaldir [Gift of trees]: one of the beheaded lost warriors
Valtamar [Good fortune]: other beheaded lost warrior
Lindalcon [Song of the sunray]: son of Valtomar
Andamaite [Long-handed]: female lost warrior
Rochendil [Horse friend]: Andamaite's mate; becomes Ailinyero [pool of sorrow]
Maltahondo [Gold-hearted]: corpsman and friend to Legolas. He uses his Quenya name-form while Legolas goes by a Sindarin word for 'green leaf'. As a joke between friends, they reversed the naming styles to create nicknames for each other. Legolas calls his friend by the Sindarin word for 'golden': Malthen and Maltahondo calls Legolas by a Quenya word that means green, but in the sense of young and inexperienced: Laiquasse.

Chapter 4: Leithad-en-Maethyr [Release of the Warriors]

Gandalf left Laketown the morning following Thranduil's unprecedented departure sans spoils of war, tailing his dusty wake as near as he dared without provoking a confrontation. He was absolutely certain the elves knew he was behind them and did not want to have to give an explanation as to his intentions to the tense and wary Elven King until his son's fate was decided. The wizard had determined that death would not follow, given Thranduil's own words of condemnation of his son, and hoped that he could find a way to mitigate whatever this judgement entailed. An unpleasant image of the dark underground warren of suffocatingly small cells in the dungeons of the Elven King's palace flashed through his brain. How long would a wood elf survive in such a place? Surely this would not be the archer's fate.

As a plausible excuse for appearing on the heels of catastrophe like a scavenger bird dogging a pack of wolves, he brought with him the Emeralds of Gelion as Thranduil's share of Thorin's Treasure. Thranduil would not be able to refuse that which he had called forth his army to take by force. This had been Bard's idea and Gandalf readily accepted it, assuring the man he would find Legolas and bring him back to the human settlement if the elf was indeed banished from his own people. In his heart, however, Gandalf was somewhat worried about the King's reaction upon seeing the gems; they were tainted now with the blood of so many warriors and the disgrace of his own child, and hardly seemed worthy of such sacrifice.

He need not have bothered with his concerns for upon admittance to the King's Halls he found the stronghold in near chaos. There was a great deal of traffic within the structure, as elves seemed to be moving around furniture, trunks, linens, and draperies as though an inventory was being taken. With dismay Gandalf realized these must be Legolas' belongings being packed away from sight. The King's Council of Elders were harried and arguing hotly with one another about the future of the realm and the right of succession, and flailed parchments in the air or thumped the musty pages of ancient tomes to make their points. Gandalf was amazed that within the maelstrom of confusion Thranduil remained collected and still. He was not on his throne, but seated in an alcove off to the side that he used for more private audiences; often had he met with Mithrandir there and so it would be this day as he motioned for the wizard to join him. His gaze upon the Istari was wary and appraising but he said nothing, forcing Gandalf to state his manufactured purpose for such an untimely arrival. When the gems were presented, the Elven King merely reached out his hand for the elegant box containing the treasure and set it aside without bothering to open it, a grim smile on his lips.

"I thank you, Mithrandir, for taking such pains to protect the interests of the Greenwood," he said coldly. "And where do you go from here, to Imladris or to Lothlorien?" The bitterness in the King's words could not be denied. Gandalf pursed his lips and fidgeted slightly in his seat.

"I am not a gossip monger, Thranduil, if that is what you are suggesting!" He retorted somewhat unconvincingly, because he did in fact plan to discuss the events with Celeborn as soon as he knew exactly what was going on. "I regret I had to be witness to these unfortunate scenes, but so I was. Do you expect me to act as though they did not occur?" Then Thranduil's eyes flashed a bit and he leaned forward so that he was nose to nose with the Maia, but all he said was "Yes".

As he did not move Gandalf was forced back in his chair, pressing his spine against the woven willow supports. He cleared his throat and mentally scolded himself. He had not meant to get on Thranduil's bad side now, and suddenly had the uncomfortable impression that the King was playing him, manipulating him. He realized he would get no news of Legolas from his father and frowned.

"As it happens, I was planning on stopping in Lothlorien after escorting the Hobbit back to the Shire, but since Beorn has agreed to see to his safety I may go there directly," he admitted. Thranduil sat back with a sneering scowl upon his brow.

"That is well and sumy pmy purpose, for you can carry with you documents Celeborn will need to see regarding certain changes in the succession to the Crown of the Greenwood," he said and called to his minister. Gandalf blinked at these words; he had not considered this particular complication banishment of the King's only child would cause. "As soon as the documents are prepared, give Mithrandir a copy. How much longer will all of this take?" he said.

"I believe it will all be official within a day or two. It is only the question of the previously arranged marriage that must still be settled. You will allowed to accept him back after he has completed. . ." the reply was stopped mid-sentence with an icy glare from the King that managed to project both a cold indifference and his fiery wrath, and the minister hurriedly fled back to the Council of Elders and their bickering.

As he turned back to Gandalf, Thranduil raised his eyebrows and a hand, lightly shrugging as though to indicate the simplicity of the situation.

"There you have it then, Mithrandir, you can be on your way day after next and tell Celeborn and his Noldo wife all about it! I trust you remember the way to your old rooms?" His words were a mocking dismissal and Gandalf was only too happy to go. As he passed out of the great hall he observed a mother and child, surrounded by a veritable host of ministers and servants, being bustled down the corridors towards the throne room.

He decided to go down to the stables and try to glean some news. Of course, it was 'not to be spoken of', but the elves were distressed and he was able to at least find out that Legolas was not in the dungeons and that someone looking carefully in the courtyard would be able to see which way he had gone. Sure enough, Gandalf found the trail and set out, finding it unnervingly easy to follow, something that should not have been possible given a Wood Elf's ability to move through the densest forest underbrush while leaving less of a track than a trout swimming through water.

The sun was low on the western horizon and the thick foliage brought twilight to the forest early and still the trail lead on. Gandalf at last recognized where its destination lay and knew it was not much further to the old campsite used by the guard at times. He heard them before he saw them; a harsh and unpleasantly wet coughing punctuated with high-pitched cries of pain and the voice of a female trying to sooth and comfort. When he broke through the clearing a moment later he could scarcely recognize the limp and gasping elf held in the healer's arms as she carefully wiped away the blood from his lips and the sweat from his forehead. She looked up at the wizard and smiled sadly.

"I am glad you are here, old friend, even though you should not be! We will need a fire tonight and he cannot breath easily if I let him lie flat," she spoke softly as Gandalf came and knelt beside them. He reached out a wizened hand and softly brushed it across the shorn uneven hair but Legolas was not conscious to feel the gentle caress. Even in the fading light the dark stains on the leaf-littered ground where the elf's blood was soaking down into the earth could be seen. Gandalf shook his head in dismay and silently got up and made the fire for them and then sat down with his back to a fallen log and took out his pipe. Just before he lit it, he paused, listening to the elf's rasping and labored breathing and thought better of it.

"I am not elf-kind; not even Thranduil can order me not to see who I choose when I choose! His ban does not extend to the Istari! And what of you, you are a wood elf after all and should not be here even more than I," he finally said, responding to the earlier comment. The healer shook her head as she answered.

"I am a healer; without care he will not survive this, and then there would be four lost ones instead of three." Gandalf's grimace expressed what he thought of that as he reached over again and brushed the tips of his fingers against Legolas' scalp.

"What of this? Are not these other injuries enough?" He queried. The healer glanced sideways at the wizard; this was coming close to breaching the oath of silence; such knowledge was not intended for outsiders. She sighed a little and seemed to give the briefest of shrugs before answering; Gandalf was not likely to tell the King where he got his information anyway.

"Symbolic," she stated flatly. "He is not permitted to wear warrior braids until the sentence is complete; neither shall he wear the colors of the Greenwood."

"And how long is this to be?"

"The full term allowed: 24 years per death." Gandalf digested this bit of news and then questioned the healer closely regarding the details of the Judgement. He was not pleased and still had not gotten to the why of it all.

"I understand he needs to make amends, but what does 'chastisement' consist of if it is separate from the overall punishment," he said and the healer's features contorted in disapprobation.

"It is just a fine way to speak of torture!" she cried harshly. "That Ailinyero means to take out his sexual frustrations from losing the comforts of his mate's body by beating Legolas! It has not been done in centuries! There are only two restrictions upon this: no deadly weapons may be used and the beatings must not be severe enough to interfere with completing the Tasks of Release. Ailinyero's rage at the loss of his mate is such that I expect to be seeing a lot of Legolas over the next years," she replied and Gandalf's features registered shock. He had always found the wood elves to be light-hearted and fond of merry-making, willing to throw a feast at the slightest excuse. He would never have suspected such gruesome practices in the execution of their laws, nor so stringent a definition for kinslaying.

\l mel me of these deaths," he said suddenly. "Do you believe he truly killed these other elves by his own hand?" The healer looked at him as though he had suddenly turned into a dull-witted dwarf.

"No one believes that, or he would be in the dungeons now there to remain until his death! But of the tragedy I can not say, for I was not one of the healers on the battlefield that day," she replied. "In any case, he had to have caused the deaths by his own errors, something that could have been avoided or prevented. He wasted their immortality for nothing!" The last words came out vehemently.

"It hardly seems right or just to punish so severely what must have been accidental," Gandalf murmured. The healer made an exasperated sound with her teeth and tongue at this comment.

"It is our way! Accidental it may have been, but preventable none the less! He allowed himself to be seen and his great skill was made useless. What good is it to have the gift of elven reflexes if nerves or anger and fear dull them? You, as Maia, should understand the enormity of such pointless loss of immortal life! He had the opportunity to make all the deaths clean on the battlefield but bungled that as well. Now, not only are three of the First-born dead but there fear are trapped here instead of at rest with Mandos. This is no small misdemeanor, wizard; his crime is truly of the most heinous!" Gandalf remained silent and the healer seemed to calm a little. "The Greenwood is not like the other elven realms," she continued. "We lose so many here to the evil vermin pouring forth from the caves of the mountains and the Necromancer's old domain; we can little afford to have our people diminished due to carelessness among ourselves as well."

Legolas shifted in discomfort as the healer's hold around his shoulders had tightened during her words, and he called out softly but incoherently. Their attention was diverted to tending to him for the next several minutes as Gandalf traded places with the healer so she could prepare and administer an elixir of some sort she withdrew from her pack nearby. That done, she stretched and took up her water skin, saying she would return momentarily, and vanished into the darkness.

Before Gandalf had much time to think through what he had been told he was startled by the sudden appearance of Maltahondo dropping down from the tree behind him. The warrior said nothing but came to him and held out his arms, demanding Legolas. Gandalf complied and Maltahondo settled down against the tree trunk with his friend cradled gently against his chest. He looked him over carefully, cautiously touching him here and there where the skin was unbruised, and seemed satisfied with the care he was receiving. He turned his face to look at Gandalf then, his chin lightly resting on the crown of Legolas' head.

"I was listening," he said matter-of-factly. "I can tell you about the battle if you want." The wizard thought for a moment and nodded then listened as the corpsman relayed the events. This only served to disgust the wizard more, for in his mind there was no way Legolas could have held his aim steady when struck by a large boulder from above, and he said so. "I agree, in part. I did not know the ridge had been overrun either, so I feel as much at fault; I was not able to give warning until it was already too late," the corpsman said.

"You not have needed to." The voice that answered this was hoarse and whisper-soft and came from the disgraced archer. "I should not have moved out so close to the edge. They saw me then." Maltahondo kissed the top of his head.

"I do not think you are supposed to be using up your strength to talk, Laiquasse," he said kindly and smiled a little, but Legolas did not smile back.
"Not supposed to bre, re, Malthen," he struggled to say, lightly poking his friend in the shoulder. Maltahondo frowned and lifted his shoulders in a defiant shrug.

"I am here regardless; I had to talk to you. I wanted to make sure you do not despise me. I am truly sorry, Laiquasse! I should have warned you sooner, or at least I should not have allowed that human to interfere! I thought, somehow I could change things, talk to Talagan about my errors, too, lessen the punishment in some way. Truly, I had no wish to watch you die; I was weak," he was saying and this seemed to upset Legolas, who vehemently shook his head.

"You should not have needed to warn me at all! Do I have to tell you to bring extra arrows? Had I not stepped forward I would not have become their target! You have no error to speak of, and as to the human . . .." This was too much at once, however; he could not catch his breath and the coughing started again. Maltahondo tilted his head up a bit and held him tightly as the eerie groans of pain followed this and a small amount of dark blood seeped down from the corner of his mouth. Slowly the episode ended as Legolas again passed out. Gandalf surveyed the two sadly.

"Malthen, is it?" he said. "Tell me about the Warrior's Release and all this business about Wandering. I have been under the impression that no one's fea can be bound here if it is free of darkness at the moment of death," he resumed the conversation determined to understand the whole mess Legolas had gotten himself into. As he spoke the healer returned to the camp and gave a nod to the warrior as she sat down, passing him the water skin in case Legolas wakened again. Maltahondo returned his attention to the wizard.

"Only Legolas calls me that; it is a sort of nickname. I am Maltahondo; I have known Laiquasse his whole life. He is really more like a baby brother in some ways," he said fondly, absently shifting his burden to a more comfortable position. "I came here with his mother when she was bonded to Thranduil. I was her personal guard since her childhood, and was honored to be the same for Legolas," he said. Gandalf smiled somewhat coldly, considering it a strange sort of guardian that would apologize for not allowing his charge to die.

"As far as the Wandering goes, it is difficult to explain to outsiders. Our people, the Nandorin elves, the Green elves, and even the Sindarin elves have never been to Valinor. The Noldorin elves call us 'moriquendi', dark elves, and look down on us because we never dwelled in the light of the Two Trees or lived among the Valar. For us, these things are strange and unknown; only in death have any of our kind left here and none return to tell us where is the Way Straight. Until recently, none even sailed from the Havens, although that has become more common. We do not know the Valar as the others do, and I myself am suspicious of their intentions towards us. They left us here alone and do nothing to aid in our struggles against darkness brought to our beloved home by one of their own!" The healer interrupted with a sharp intake of her breath, but Maltahondo barely glanced at her and continued. "Especially do we regard Mandos with trepidation, for the entrance to his Halls is said to be well guarded and only the most valorous of deeds can counter the loss of immortal life, Eru's gift to us."

"You believe the Valar will deny you entrance to Valinor or Mandos' Halls if death is caused by anything but a noble sacrifice," Gandalf stated and received a nod in confirmation from Maltahondo. "Legolas error in revealing his position resulted in the deaths of the warriors, and thus he is guilty of kinslaying. This stripped the warriors of their purpose in battle?" Gandalf really thought this was too much, especially considering the original goal of Thranduil's army when they encamped at the base of the Lonely Mountain. All this just for the chance to plunder the old dragon's horde.

"Not exactly," the corpsman responded. "It robbed them of the honor of the kill, which was the purpose of that skirmish against the goblin guards. They died with their purpose unfulfilled, so what have they to offer as recompense for the lives forsaken? How can they expect to find entrance into Mandos' Realm?" He continued quietly.

"And Legolas' suicide on the battlefield would have been enough to guarantee the three other warrior's passage?" Again a nod followed his words. "What about him; would his death have been clean enough?" There was a distinct edge of caustic disapproval in these words that neither elf missed, but Maltahondo was prepared for this objection, having thought about it quite a lot lately.

"It would have been wasteful to lose Legolas," he agreed and now the healer voiced her censure.

"Wasteful?! You find the lives of your three other comrades less worthy than your friend's! He is their bane, not the other way round!" Maltahondo ignored this interjection.

"However, I would rather see him dead than suffer what he will now. The tasks he must complete must be significant enough to place in the balance against the others' deaths. Here in the Greenwood, such deeds involve spiders, orcs, wargs, and other troubles from Dol Guldur that we can scarcely keep at bay by fighting constantly and with combined effort. He will have to do these things alone, and he will eventually be killed for his efforts," he concluded gloomily.

"Or worse," the healer added ominously and Maltahondo scowled.

"Do not even think it!" The warrior hissed and instinctively drew Legolas closer to him as he did indeed think about his Laiquasse being captured and ending up a prisoner in the Necromancer's old fortress. The things the orcs would do to elves were well known and never spoken of. "A curse upon that human for interfering, and upon me for letting him!" the sorrowful corpsman suddenly exclaimedegolegolas stirred in his arms. They had not noticed he had wakened and listened to the discussion.

"No!" he spoke softly. "It will not be that way, Malthen. I will complete the tasks." The eyes gazing up at Maltahondo were anything but confidant, however, and the corpsman sighed.

"Ai, Laiquasse! We both know this is unlikely. You must promise me to take the first opportunity for a clean death if it finds you! I cannot bear to think of you in further torment!" He was saying quietly, and Gandalf and the healer discreetly turned away from this private conversation between the brothers in heart, if not in blood. Legolas grabbed Maltahondo's tunic tightly and nodded his promise. "There is another reason I had to come; our company has been disbanded and we have all been reassigned. Talagan leads a troop now to the southern borders near Dol Guldur. He would allow no other from our company to join, save for me. I told him of my sense of responsibility; and, as the captain, he also feels at fault and questions his judgement in relying solely on your skill for the plan to work. He disregarded your lack of battle experience and thinks this contributed to the disaster. We leave tomorrow. In all probability, we will not see one another here again!"

"Do not do this! It is the worst patrol in terms of losses!" Legolas whispered, desperation seeping into his eyes. "Do not burden me with more deaths!" He yanked at his friend's clothing ineffectually. Maltahondo squeezed his own eyes tightly shut and pressed his forehead to Legolas', slowly shaking his head.

"This much is not your burden," he whispered back, "and, if you do as I ask, we will see each other again in Mandos' Halls, along with our comrades. That is what I am counting on you to do: release them and join us!" Legolas was shaking terribly and Maltahondo wanted to calm him and be certain he would not try to claim fault for his and Talagan's decisions.

"As you care for me, you must not deny me the right to a clean death as well. I do feel responsible for you; there is no other way for me to see it. Have I not been charged with your welfare since your birth only to relinquish that trust now? I have discussed this with your mother and she does not oppose my choice, therefore, you need not speak against it! And Talagan is an honorable warrior and can decide for himself his own debts. I will have your word that you will not try to take these rights from us, do you understand?" He squeezed Legolas' shoulder slightly for emphasis and searched his face.

"I do not want you to go; I do not understand," Legolas did not know how this could be anything but his fault. He did not know how the whole pattern of life in his green universe could have been so utterly destroyed by such a small thing, just one extra step, one moment of inattention. Now not only was he to endure punishment for his mistakes, but his closest friend as well. Talagan, while not a friend in the same sense, had his utmost respect and was an old comrade of his father's, having served with him in the Last Alliance. For him to bear this burden was equally unacceptable. He ground his teeth in frustrated anguish and instantly regretted it as all the nerves in his fractured jaw erupted with fiery pain from the unconscious action.

"Are you still a child, then, Legolas? This is the way of things now; wishing and railing against it changes nothing. You must accept and respect my choice, even as I have had to accept and be witness to your debasement. Do you think that I like it? Do you think I wish it to be happening?" Malthen's words were harsh and uncompromising, and Legolas could only stare in consternation as he gave a half turn of his head in negation. "Then, how many fea must you release, Legolas?" Maltahondo demanded and had to strain to hear the single word: "Three." He nodded; but they both knew these were just words. They both knew that each felt responsible for the other, and for the lost warriors; and no amount of argument could convince them differently.

"A clean death, then, for all of us," he concluded and Legolas nodded against his chest, too worn out to try to respond. Maltahondo knew he would have to leave soon but made no move yet to do so. "I will stay till you fall asleep, and I've brought your pack and hunting knife." Legolas could barely incline his head in acknowledgement and thanks; his bow, he knew, would have been burned in a private ceremony among the families as their loved ones' bodies were committed to flames as well.

They remained thus for some time, long after Maltahondo knew Legolas to be unconscious again. The healer stretched out to sleep certain that she would waken if needed. Gandalf returned from just outside the firelight's reach, although he knew both elves had been aware of his presence all along, shortly before dawn, and, as Maltahondo had done earlier, silently held out his arms to take Legolas back. The corpsman did not hesitate to give up his charge, having said what good-byes there were to say. He picked up Legolas hunting knife and quickly sliced away a long lock of his own burnished auburn hair, wordlessly handing it to the wizard, confidant that Gandalf understood to see that Legolas received it. With a last look at his friend he turned, pulled himself up into the trees, and was gone.
TBC