Feud

Feud
By erobey
Beta'd by Sarah AK
A rather dark Legolas slash before the Ring Quest.
Disclaimers in first chapter apply to all.

A/N: My apologies for being late with ues res recently. Changed jobs, got in a wreck (no injuries, but you should see Tithengalen [Little Green] (that's my car)! Bungee cords holding the hood down, which is all bent and wrinkled, and another keeping the left fender from scraping up the tire. The headlights point into the sky, and my breaks are nearly non-existent. But Tithengalen runs beautifully; and do I ever love that car! Will try to get back on schedule, but expect another delay this month. Sorry!

Special thanks go to the intrepid reviewers of feud! Henceforth, the story will be updated first at its website. Reviewers who would like to be notified when the update occurs, just email me and I will let you know.

Chapter 53: Min Gannen, Min Dolen [One Caught, One Concealed]
Part 1

"Eru's Arse!" the foul curse was uttered in exasperated umbrage as the speaker landed with an undignified thump into the leafy mould of the forest floor. This was the third time in as many days that Erestor had found himself sprawled face first in the duff. It was as though the very roots were mobile, purposefully emerging from the soil to tug at his toes and ensnare his feet.

A loud report, reminiscent of a stout, wooden pike striking flesh covered bone, for such indeed it was, rang out followed immediately by a shrill shout of misery.

"Do not blaspheme!" retorted a sternly bellowing voice. "If you cannot see the way to tread, that is not the fault of any but yourself, and your inferior breeding, perhaps!"

"Inferior!" the victim of this assault rubbed his head appraisingly and discovered an unpleasantly large and painful knot arising there. "You dare to speak such insults to me, a survivor of Gondolin? Much nobility marks my lineage culminating in courageous sacrifice in the defence of Turgon's city! My own father perished there at the King's side!"

"Well then, what would he say of your recent actions, Erestor of Imladris? Have you even considered the shame you bring to his feä in the Halls of Waiting?" intoned Radagast as he stretched out his hand to aid the seneschal's return to his feet.

Erestor immediately found his skin burning in both anger and shame upon considering this terrible consequence of his thoughtless manoeuvrings and abuses against the wild Wood Elf.

"Peace, Aiwendil; you are right. I am unworthy of Adar's regard and he may choose to deny his own son whenever we may meet! How bitter is the result of this escapade!" he moaned.

Aiwendil was not moved to compassion and merely glared with even greater fury upon the Noldo Lord. The Istar cared not a whit for Erestor's loss of status and respect. He had only agreed to lead the Imladrian into the Woodland Realm's stronghold in order to see him punished for his exploitation of Legolas' isolated and lonely existence.

The Brown Wizard disregarded that the devastating revelation Erestor had introduced had been offered to alleviate the archer's sorrows. Even if adding to Legolas' troubles had been unintentional, the Tawarwaith should not have learned from this outsider how his so dearly lovnd and admired guardsman had cruelly used him.

The gentle Maia also knew some of this rage was directed upon the Noldo to shield his own guilty conscience. If Radagast had taken up the responsibility and informed Legolas about Malthen's relationship with Ningloriel perhaps the Istar would not be worrying whether the wild elf was now alive or dead.

"I do not think you will be allowed into os'os' domain, Erestor. Your feä will roam until the end of Arda, houseless and alone, shunned and feared by those you love. Orophin and Dambethnîn will not wish to have you reborn into their lives, I assure you!" he continued brutally and was pleased to see the elf wince.

Erestor did not reply to this, for his mouth had gone dry as his heart began pounding out his apprehensive acceptance that Radagast's predictions would be proved true. The concept of the Halls of Waiting bespoke a loss of immortal life by violence or fading in grief. In the current direction of their travels, the first option was not unlikely should Thranduil accuse him of espionage. If his bond mates were to disown him for being part of so despicable an endeavour then the second outcome awaited the seneschal.

A core of dreadful panic formed within Erestor's soul and his stomach contracted around the sudden sick sensation arising there. He had been trying desperately not to think about his lovers' reactions to these circumstances, with little success, and the wizard's words were as oil on fire.

{They will be shocked, disgusted. They will call me 'Noldo' in icy contempt, never to be their Pen-raun again!}

The Galadhrim pair knew Erestor was often in and out of bed with a variety of young elves, but this they tolerated with a rather amused attitude of understanding acquiescence. He spent years at a time away from them, and Orophin and Dambethnîn did not begrudge him whatever ease he required for his lonely days. As long as his activity did not infringe upon the well-being of another's heart, the bonded couple was unconcerned.

{I cannot expect them to condone this! They will look upon me as though I am someone they do not know, for my actions have been so dishonourably vile! How will they reconcile such crimes with the irrepressible rake they eagerly enveloped within their glorious bond?} Erestor inwardly cringed upon imagining their cold, scandalised expressions within formerly loving eyes.

His trepidation to face them had prompted the seneschal's determination to right as much of the wrong he had perpetrated as possible. At least then he could beg forgiveness and hope for an eventual dispensation and merciful absolution. Thus, after five days of arguing and beseeching, on the same day that Legolas first encountered Aragorn and Mithrandir, the Noldo had finally convinced the Istar to guide him through the forest to Thranduil's stronghold. There Erestor intended to plead the cause of the disgraced prince and entreat the King for aid to search for him, irregardless of any reprisals he might face for his unwarranted presence within the Greenwood.

To his credit, small though it might be upon the ledger's tally of red marks, Erestor focused on these aspects of the dilemma only because he could not bear to consider that his thoughtless self-indulgence and heedless words had robbed Middle-earth of the unique magnificence that was Legolas. If he found that the archer had perished from having his heart rended so utterly by the seneschal's comments, Erestor knew he, too, would despair.

None of this could he bring himself to speak, and so relied upon his usual attitude of cocky impudence to get him through the plodding days in the Maia's company, a flimsy shield against the unrestrained antipathy roiling off the wizard's person in waves of engulfing heat.

Not to mention the flocks of assorted jays, grackles, ravens, and even a solitary eagle that periodically swooped over him, diving low to snatch at his hair or peck his scalp, frequently defecating on him in the process, all aware of the interloper's egregious acts by virtue of Aiwendil's communion with bird-kind.

And everytime an expletive or an oath passed Erestor's lips, the Maia's sturdy new staff connected with his body most ungently.

Aiwendiling ing wise in the ways of the forest, often journeyed through the woods using the byways of the elves. He spent his days paying calls upon the human inhabitants of the central regions of Greenwood, attempting to heal the trees overcome with darkness, and searching for Sauron's Ring. In fact, so much of his time was occupied with the latter task that he was known more for his periodic occupation in and around Sír Ninglor [River Gladden] than his true lodgings of Rhosgobel beside the Anduin.

Yet rare were his visits to the Wood Elves' city and he had been within Thranduil's stronghold but once or twice. Nonetheless he was as determined as Erestor to succeed in their venture and hoped to be able to find Fearfaron and gain at least his assistance, for the wizard knew no help would come from the King.

Of the movements of the Orcs from Dol Guldur, more knowledge had the Istar than any other, save Legolas, and his avian allies had kept him well versed in the steady movement of the monsters towards the Mirkwood Mountains. Thus Radagast had chosen to travel across the open lowlands in the valley of the Great River. Along this path, they encountered no beasts of evil from Melkor's making and met no travellers upon the way. Only when reaching the Ford and the Old Forest Road did the wizard at last remark signs of other feet heading for the woods.

Here the earth was trampled and churned, the grass crushed and impacted down into the soil by the weight of a great host that had made for the eaves of the Greenwood with all speed. Grimly the two acknowledged these foreboding indications, for this could only be the trail of Orcs marching out of the Misty Mountains and into the Woodland Realm. These were fresh tracks and showed travel in only one direction.

The pair moved on quickly, having no desire to encounter this army on its return journey.

Neither Radagast nor Erestor expressed their fears, which ranged from concern for the safe passage of Elrond, who must surely have used this route on his return to Imladris, to apprehension over the fate of the Tawarwaith, the probable target of this unexpected invasion, alone and in the grave grip of grieving's throes.

The Maia and the Noldo had continued further upstream before turning finally towards the darkly looming trees, entering at the Forest Gate where the Elf Path would lead them quickest to Thranduil's city. Once under the canopy, Greenwood at once recognised the identity of the trespasser, naming him Pen Togel Pelleth [One Bringing Fading] and did not spare him either upturned roots or the occasional falling limb. Erestor was collecting a wide assortment of bruises and scrapes and by the second day among the trees was limping along painfully behind the Maia.

It was thus that on this the third day he failed to avoid the latest reprisal of the forest and received another allotment of Aiwendil's corporal and verbal scolding.

In silence they proceeded once the seneschal was upright, and after an hour's passing the wizard abruptly halted and leaned upon his cane. Erestor looked at him in apprehensive bewilderment.

"What are we stopping for?" he demanded, making sure he was beyond the reach of the smooth beech-wood wizard's weapon. Erestor found the coolly sneering look Aiwendil trained upon him most unsettling. He knew, despite his complaints, that, had he so chosen, the Maia could easily have exacted a severe retribution on Legolas' behalf, and thus the Noldo considered himself fortunate up to this point. He had no desire to spend his eternal life locked into some inanimate form: a tree, a rock or a cloud of dust even, and eyed the Istar cautiously.

Perhaps the intensity of this scrutiny is what dampened his normally elevated senses, or more likely it was the higher degree of stealth endemic to the Wood Elves. In any case, Erestor discovered with amazement that he and the wizard were surrounded by a rather large contingent of Sylvan warriors, all of them in the trees save two, each with bow armed and aimed in careful accuracy upon the Imladrian. Erestor instinctively laid his hand upon his side, searching for the hilt of his sword, only to recall that he had taken to carrying it strapped down on his pack at Legolas' urging. He cursed silently as he saw the leader of these woodland fighters, one of the two upon the path, smirking at this fruitless groping.

"Greetings, Aiwendil of the Gladden Glen! What brings you forth into our lands, and with such malodorous chattel?" the elf said good-naturedly.

At this Erestor looked as though he might protest, but the captain's brooding lieutenant narrowed a frightful glare upon him, pulling even greater tension upon his ready bow, and the seneschal closed his mouth.

"Ah, Talagan, is it not?" answered the wizard, and the Elven captain inclined his head in assent. "I have come seeking news of the Tawarwaith, for he fled my care at the encouragement of this miscreant invader upon the Greenwood!"

"That is enlightening!" said Talagan. "For we have just completed a sweep of the region, cleansing the lands of the foulness of Dol Guldur. We came upon Tirno with two companions, Mithrandir and a human, engaged in a most pressing battle with the combined forces of Orcs from the Central and Misty Mountains. The trio survived and are presently in recovery at the stronghold."

"Thank Eru! You have set my heart at ease, Talagan! Take us hence, I would see Legolas with my own eyes and speak with Gandalf!" said Aiwendil with evident relief, and next to him Erestor also audibly exhaled a prayer of thanks to the Valar.

"I will guide you willingly, wizard, but as for your companion I have yet to decide. Who is this?"

The Sinda warrior knew exactly who stood before him, but could not resist the opportunity to belittle the noble Elf Lord. Talagan took a leisurely stroll completely around the tense Noldo, looking him up and down, marking his dishevelled appearance and filth covered hair and garments with derisive glee. He waved his hand in front of his nose as if clearing away an abominable stench.

Erestor realised he must look a deplorable sight, but straightened his spine and shoulders as he boldly met the warrior's mocking gaze.

"I am not so unkempt, Talagan of Neldoreth, that you do not recognise me! It is I, Erestor of Imladris, who stands before you!"

"Oh yes, Erestor, I remember you! By your insolent tone I surmise it is your memory that has lapsed! Have you driven from your guilty heart the hour that you and your kin brought upon mine a slaughter of irrevocable torment? My wife and son lie now in the Dead Marshes; never could I even bring their bodies home to rest!" At the close of this speech a discontented and outraged murmuring arose from the branches above as several more warriors voiced similar complaints relating to the Last Alliance.

The noiseless flight of a single arrow silenced everyone as it soared from the trees and plowed into the hard packed trail at the Noldo's feet.

"Enough!" called out Radagast and uplifted his arms, staff in hand. A strong surge of radiant heat poured up into the heights and the warriors shifted their positions as the fiery might of the Ainu rolled past. "I will see justice done, but not here on the pathways! Take us to Thranduil!"

Talagan nodded his head in agreement. He recalled glimpsing Erestor's name among the toll of degrading phrases etched upon the message sent from Elrond, and his King's words replayed through his mind. The Noldo Lord had turned the Wood Elf King against his own flesh and blood, then intensified that injury by visiting his destructive seductions upon the disinherited prince, and only after this debasement did Elrond reveal his ruse to nduinduil. These were offences as despicable as kinslaying, in Talagan's opinion, and Erestor had participated fully.

Yet the later actions of intrusion upon both the Greenwood and its champion could never have proceeded without the Judgement as a backdrop.

The veteran of the Last Alliance had often relived the aftermath of the Battle of Erebod hid his dreams were populated with scenes of his vicious rminaminations and harsh battlefield condemnation of Legolas. In the long days that followed, the worthy captain grieved for this as much as he regretted the death of Andamaitë, a distant cousin through his mother's lineage. It had taken only the passing of the initial wrath born of the heavy losses his company had endured to realise he had been rash in his judgement of the archer.

{Nay, not merely rash and heedless. I allowed myself to seek a focus for my fury and divert my mind from the truth. I was the one at fault that day.}

Too late Talagan had attempted to amend his report to Thranduil, taking the responsibility for devising that diversionary tactic with so little supportive forces to assist. Nor should he have left but one sniper to cover the Goblin. And how had he failed to note the emergence of foes along the ridge? As the company's captain, he had argued, he was ultimately the one who must bear the consequences for the ill-made plans and their horrendous outcome. In vain did he try to convince the King to withhold the Judgement.

His subsequent guilty shame had caused Talagan to all but abandon the city for the harrowing duty of the Southern Patrol. Over the years, it had been his troop that had surreptitiously defended Legolas in his work to create the Orc traps.

Looking upon the Noldo interloper who had sought to find advantage from the disgrace of another, Talagan allowed his disgust to show forth. As for the other implications of the letter, the Sinda was not prepared to address such issues, but found it difficult to attribute any verity to the accusations. Legolas had never displayed lascivious behaviour and indeed the Sinda warrior could not recall the archer ever pairing up with anyone, excepting that one indiscreet messenger. Indeed, it was Talagan who, having been regaled with the lover's explicit stories, had encouraged the foul-mouthed elf to leave before he found himself reassigned to a more active role within the guards.

Recalled to the present by the Imladrian advisor's fidgeting, Talagan glanced up into the trees and quickly whistled a series of commands to his troop. Silently they melted into the cover and vanished, save for two who dropped down beside Erestor and seized him by the arms.

"Bind him!" ordered the Sinda, and his subordinates complied, securing Eres's h's hands behind him and his ankles together.

"This is not necessary! Peacefully I will go with you! Aiwendil, explain to them that I asked you to bring me here!" the seneschal pleaded as he struggled against the ropes, but Radagast ignored him, walking away with Talagan a short distance. Erestor watched in consternation as the two quietly conversed, glancing occasionally in his direction, and then saw the captain's lieutenant leading horses onto the path.

The warriors guarding him hefted Erestor up and slung him ungently over one of the animal's whithers. Talagan himself mounted this horse and laughed smugly as the Noldo craned his head backward in an effort to look the Sinda in the eye.

"I repeat, this is unnecessary, Talagan! I will make no effort to escape!" the seneschal tried once more to convince the warrior of his earnestness and thus gain the dignity of riding into the Stronghold of the Woodland King, rather than be toted in like so much baggage, or a hunting trophy.

The captain, however, had a rather faraway expression on his features, recalling another time he had carried a burden in such a manner into the Stronghold, and regretting the cause of that grisly scene. He felt no sympathy for the Noldo whatsoever, and merely gave the signal for departure. With Aiwendil mounted behind his lieutenant, Talagan and his comrades made for the mountain fortress.

Continued in Part 2