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Feud	By : narcolinde Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 27131 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 93
- 94
- 95
Feud
By erobey
Beta'd by Sarah AK (remaining errors mine alone)
www.feud.shadowess.com

Disclaimer: The setting and known characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. Only the words surrounding them and the original characters belong to erobey alone. No monies earned, just for fun!

Cuil o Erestor addelia nedhnîf hin tîn. (Erestor's life replays before his eyes.)

"Gellam Bardúliel!" (Joyous Homecoming!) called out Fearfaron suddenly.

As if awaiting that cue, which of course they had been, a quartet of musicians entered the glade from the opposite end and headed for the protection of the awning as they shook the snow from their cloaks and greeted the new couple traditionally: "Galu bo lîn herth." (Good fortune on your household.) They unpacked their instruments, a harp, a drum, a fine slender silver whistle and a set of bellows-pipes. In no time they were settled and began playing a lively reel. Even as the first notes sounded through the air elves came filtering into the meadow, smiling and calling salutations, wishing the bond-mates good fortune before joining in the jig.

Legolas let Fearfaron act as host for he could not stand still while the pipes commanded his feet to dance. He grabbed Berenaur and tugged him out into the growing throng of swirling bodies. The steps were complex and the rhythm rapid, but it was not unlike the circle dances held in Lorien, thus the Noldo was able to keep up with his silvan mate. They whirled and wheeled, dipped and leaped, crossed over and under and promenaded.

Legolas laughed and smiled as his golden tangles mingled in the fanning black tresses of his love's long locks. He could hardly remember the last time he had danced.

As for Erestor, he could not recall ever enjoying a party more.

Wine was consumed and the delectable goodies devoured, the revellers kept the musicians playing and soon it was mid-afternoon in the Greenwood. The glen's ground was devoid of its frozen carpet, the dancer's feet having melted that away during the first reel. The piper called a halt and everyone clapped and thanked the players, pressing them to take nourishment and refresh themselves so the festivities might resume in the delightful strains of their lively music. The snow had ceased falling and Anor peeked through growing gaps of vibrant blue in the white starchy clouds.

And into this peaceful lull of murmuring conversation and amiable goodwill marched Talagan and a handful of his soldiers, an angry crowd of complaining elves pressed around their flanks.

"There he is!" an outraged voice shouted.

"Seize that meddling spy!" another demanded and the throng surged forward in a mass of dangerous grumbling.

Talagan, still at the head of this unruly serpent of writhing energetic wrath approached the new couple and the party-going guests fell back to let him pass.

"What is your meaning, bringing tribulation here?" demanded Fearfaron. This soldier had a habit of bringing his son bitter doom. "This is a celebration!"

"I am here on the orders of the King," the warrior stated and turned to gaze upon Legolas and Erestor. It gave him a sharp pang to see the expression of dread fleeting through Tirno's eyes and not a small amount of worry over the angry resentment that followed after. His sight took in the seneschal's stoic demeanour and the unguarded fury of the healer. Thranduil's old friend noted the sullen glower in Lindalcon's stare and verily cringed to behold the austere reprimand in the Human's face, mirrored on the wizards' countenances as well. But he had a purpose and must adhere to it.

"Erestor of Imladris, you are required to return to the stronghold and answer for the crimes of your Realm in the trespass of the sovereign Kingdom of the Wood Elves," spoke Talagan and the mob around him erupted into shouts of confirmation.

"The dungeons! Throw him in the dungeons!"

"Aye, lock him away!" the elves shouted and raised angry fists to shake at the accused.

"Nay!" yelled back the Tawarwaith and got between his mate and the Sinda captain. "You will not lay hands upon him!"

Erestor was quite gratified to hear this and tightly gripped his beloved's shoulders.

The crowd hesitated; it would not be so easy perhaps to defy the Tawarwaith. Then Lindalcon stepped forward.

"Let them alone! Erestor is one of us, now. You would not imprison one of our own!" he called out and the throng's resolve seemed to re-ignite.

"Stand aside, son of Valtamar, he must pay for his crimes!" someone from the back warned.

"He shall not see the dungeons, yet he must face his errors!"

"This must be done!" another concurred.

"Nay you shall not!" shouted Legolas again and began pushing Berenaur backward away from the seething mass of irate elves.

But the guards, realising he would try this, had quietly circled around and now blocked this means of retreat. The couple came to a stop and everyone stilled.

"Perhaps we should just go and find out what this is all about," this was Mithrandir's voice, calm and placating, as he moved closer to the bonded couple, a grim smile upon his lips. "No need for untoward violence here."

Legolas stared at him in disbelief, not expecting the wizard to suggest he allow this arrest to take place. But then a small mental wink drifted into the wild elf's mind and his eyes widened even more. Abruptly his gaze flew to Lindalcon and found there the answer to this hullabaloo.
A prank!

He could not help but be impressed at the magnitude of the trick and could not resist playing along, though Berenaur would be furious upon realising he had been duped. It took a great deal of strength to command his face to remain contracted in a deadly scowl of wrathful indignation, but the Tawarwaith managed it, grateful that Berenaur was behind him and could not see the tell-tale sparkle lighting his eyes.

"Mayhap Mithrandir is right. Thranduil cannot lock anyone away without a trial. He is just trying to spoil things. If you go along and see what he wants he will have to let you return here shortly," Legolas said as he finally turned to face his love.

"What?" Erestor was shocked and he stared at Legolas, noting in confusion the strange gleam in the wild elf's eyes.

"I will accompany you to ensure diplomacy is adhered to," Mithrandir said.

Aiwendil shook his head in solemn pity and stared at the trampled ground, for he could not look too long at the dumbfounded expression on the Noldo's features and keep his own sombre. Aragorn suddenly turned away, unable to command his countenance at all, his face averted and screened with his hands and shoulders stooped lest he give them all away. The healer hurried over to him in his 'distress', guiding him a little apart from the others till he regained his composure. In truth she was struggling against the urge to laugh also.

The Man's old tutor became even more alarmed upon observing these reactions. What had the mortal heard to render him so disparate? Had Elrond worsened the situation by sending another of his inflammatory missives?

"Willingly or not you will accompany me," stated Talagan and took hold of the Noldo's arm.

"All will be well; I am right behind you," encouraged Legolas and gave his mate a little shove forward even as he sent the Sinda captain a piercing look that forewarned dire consequences should anything untoward occur.

That was enough for the throng. They swarmed the advisor and the warrior and swept them away from the glade.

"Aye, he will learn not to act against the Greenwood!"

"Needs his eyes opened!"

Lindalcon and Legolas fell in behind the mob, observing the dark head of the Noldo amid the sea of brown and yellow as he was borne away.

"Do not harm him!" called the Tawarwaith, a little concerned by the sheer number of bodies now between him and his love. His heart skipped a beat as he noted that Talagan and company were summarily shoved aside as the host plowed ahead. The soldiers did not look as though that was part of the staged lynching.

"Legolas!" Erestor was not in the least confident in the crowd's willingness to obey that directive once the warriors were no longer at his side. The seneschal was buffeted and shoved from elf to angry elf, hustled along toward what end he dreaded to learn. Erestor could not see Aragorn or the wizards anywhere and his Pen-rhovan must be very far behind for he had completely lost sight of him.

"Mayhap we should show him the fastest way out of the Woodland Realm!" a cold voice suggested near his elbow.

"Aye! To the river!" a chorus answered and the throng veered off course. "Cast him into the stream!" But they were not making for the docks behind the fortress. They were heading out into the forest.

"Wait! I thought you were taking me to the stronghold!" shouted Erestor in alarm. They could not really mean to run him out of the forest on a barge to Laketown, could they? "Legolas!" The Imladrian began resisting in earnest.

Lindalcon and Legolas slowed, watching the direction of the retreating mob with sinking hearts. Too well they knew where this path led.

"Nay! Not the Enchanted River!" yelled Lindalcon, distress apparent in his escalating pitch.

But the forest folk just registered appreciation for the young elf's thespian gifts to be able to render such a realistic semblance of panic to his words. As if on command they took up the chant and surged ahead with greater resolve. "To the Enchanted River! Cast him in!"

"Oh Valar!" hissed Legolas and grabbed his brother's arm. "What have you done?" he shrieked and began shoving through the back of the massive agglomeration, desperate to reach Berenaur before the unruly group achieved its objective. It was hopeless, they would not let him pass. Legolas leaped into the trees.

"Daro!" called Lindalcon to the congregation. "This is not the right way!" He was astonished by the realisation that the multitude so ready to act upon his merest suggestion earlier now ignored him completely. It was a lesson in group dynamics the young diplomat would never forget. But if I do not stop them, Erestor certainly will forget! "Mithrandir, do something!"

"I do not think they will listen to me," he shouted back. Perhaps a bit of flash and sparkle will alter their course. The Istar met his fellow wizard's mind and together they uplifted wooden staffs aglow with blinding light. A loud concussion of the air issued from the Maiar's weapons and a great ball of blue and red energy shot up into the branches. A bright soundless explosion of starry streaks spewed from the disintegrating orb and fell among the crowd.

The unexpected display halted them briefly and some cried out in dismay and fled. The rest leaped forward as one, assuming this was also a part of the play, and ran with even greater determination to the wanly glistening banks of the sluggish stream. Four able bodied silvans grabbed their foreign prisoner by the arms and legs and hoisted him up.

"Let go of me! Unhand me at once!" Erestor fought against the manhandling, indignant and incensed but no longer fearful, realising he was about to take a second and very icy bath but little comprehending the real danger. He could swim, after all.

But he could not get free of the hearty woodland warriors as the elves swung him back and forth to build up sufficient momentum to carry him out into the very middle of the black, motionless liquid. A glimpse of golden hair caught his eyes just before the silvan citizens flung him away and then he was sailing through the air. His arms flailed and he twisted in hopes of going in feet first and the next sensation he knew was the jolting agony of his left shoulder as the remainder of his body attempted to dislocate from it at the joint. He groaned as he looked up and met the clear blue eyes of the wild elf that had snatched him by the hand. The next instant his feet did meet the stream and sent a great arc of the oily water up around him.

The crowd of elves gave an appreciative exclamation of amazed delight. It had all come about so neatly! None had known exactly how the rescue would be done and to see their champion come to the aid of his mate so gallantly and acrobatically was highly gratifying. They clapped for Legolas, suspended upside-down, legs wrapped around a low-hanging branch of a hemlock as he kept a firm grip upon the Noldo's hand with both of his.

"Pen-rhovan!" exclaimed Erestor with relief.

"I have you," rasped the archer through gritted teeth, for the strain was equally great upon him.

"Well I am grateful but let go; I will not drown and you look quite uncomfortable."

"Nay! Climb up! Now!" commanded the Tawarwaith and the seneschal obeyed, using his agile mate for a ladder and eliciting a few grunts of displeasure for it. Once he was safely settled on the branch Legolas swung back upright and pulled him into a strong embrace.

A great cheer went up from the mob accompanied by much laughter and congratulations all around. The silvan citizens truly had not intended to harm Erestor and believed everything had transpired exactly as Lindalcon had intended. This was indeed the most elaborate and entertaining bonding-rite prank ever! Finally the elves began to disperse.

"What was that all about?" drawled the advisor with a sleepy yawn.

"Hurry, we need to get these leggings off!" said Legolas, trying to untie the lacings as Berenaur attempted to fold him up in a languid embrace. A sultry chuckle accompanied the resistance.

"My, my, Pen-rhovan; you are very eager! But this is not the appropriate place for such activity. There are still people standing around watching us."

"Just do as I ask, Berenaur; your legs are soaked to the skin! We must get you dried off quickly."

"But it is frightfully cold," whined the seneschal. "I do not want to!" Erestor squirmed ungracefully from his lover's arms and almost tumbled down into the river for he found himself quite lethargic and his co-ordination not quite as it should be.

"Valar! Stop that!" Legolas was frantic as he grabbed onto Berenaur's tunic just in time to prevent the fall. The Noldo smiled in mild confusion and again attempted to wrap his lanky frame around the Wood Elf, resting his cheek upon the archer's shoulder with a sigh of contentment as he sank into oblivious repose.

"I will help," a repentant voice called from the ground and Lindalcon vaulted into the tree.

"Here, take my cloak," offered Fearfaron, who had by now caught up with the others as the throng departed, bringing the wizards, the Man and the healer as well. He held the coat out for Lindalcon and waited patiently by the base of the tree. Movement attracted his eye and he spied the Sinda captain hovering nearby attempting to be inconspicuous. The carpenter charged for him.

"You! How could you allow this to happen? What manner of leader are you to give over an elf into the hands of an uncontrollable mob? Too often are you at hand when despair finds Legolas!" he cursed the soldier and it truly seemed as though he would strike the captain down had Gandalf not intercepted the Spirit Hunter.

"Nay, he is not alone in this, Fearfaron; do not place all the blame on Talagan," said the Istar. "Is the seneschal well?" he called back toward the elves in the tree.

"What do you mean, wizard, and be plain in your words!" fumed Fearfaron, but for the moment Mithrandir ignored him.

"It is too soon to tell," murmured Aiwendil. "His head did not go below the surface, however, so there is hope."

"Why, what is at risk here?" queried Aragorn. There were numerous rumours and stories concerning the Enchanted River and judging by the grim expression on the archer's features not all of them were exaggerations.

"Everything!" snapped Legolas and unexpectedly tears filled his eyes and he cuddled up against his love, roughly shoving Lindalcon away when the younger elf advanced. He held his mate close and ran a shaking hand over the crown of ebony hair resting on his shoulder. "He will forget me! He will forget everything!"

"Oh Valar! Legolas, I did not mean for him to…" Lindalcon sobbed, horrified for such to come to pass, unable to complete the dire thoughts aloud.

"Aye, it was a foolish ploy. Though no injury was intended, I should have prevented this," Talagan quietly apologised, remaining outside the circle of Tirno's family as they gathered closer to assess the damage.

"It matters not; it has happened," Legolas' voice was cold and distant. "Help me get him down from here."

"The water steals his memories?" Aragorn was incredulous and looked to Fearfaron for confirmation.

"In most cases," the carpenter heaved a morose sigh. "Usually only recent memories are erased." He had returned to the hemlock and was ready to receive the Noldo's feet as Legolas and Lindalcon handed him carefully down.

"Yet Aiwendil has a point; those victims were completely submerged and spent days asleep. Erestor has only got his legs wet and his eyes are open," remarked Gladhadithen. She approached to inspect the slumbering Noldo where Fearfaron held his limp form up, pressing an ear against his chest to listen a few minutes. She raised serious eyes to Legolas' despondent ones. "His pulse and breathing sound as would any elf in normal reverie. There is a good chance he will be unaffected, Tirno."

"Oh, Legolas, it was just a joke! They were supposed to douse him in the Forest River by the docks!" wailed Lindalcon as he jumped down from the limbs. Seeing the insensible Imladrian propped up against the carpenter's shoulders brought him to weeping anew.

"I know," Legolas stated flatly as he landed beside him. "Mithrandir explained it to me back in the glen. But it was not planned out very well, was it, and turned stupid and cruel."

Mithrandir and Aiwendil winced at this and shared chagrined looks, including the woebegone Man as well.

"We are equally to blame," said Aiwendil contritely. "We knew of the plan. I am so sorry, Legolas."

"It is true; I beg your forgiveness," whispered Aragorn, eyes on the forest floor and its muddy trampled snow.

"All of you?" demanded Legolas angrily, glaring among his friends. His eyes met the Talagan's briefly and in that second's worth of contact promised to exact retribution both swift and severe.

The warrior tore his gaze free and hurried back toward the stronghold, unwilling to be the one to inform Legolas that he was expected in the Council Chamber at dawn, with or without his Noldo lover.

"Nay, not Fearfaron," confessed Lindalcon through his tears. He could not believe he had caused so terrible a hurt, all for the sake of pulling a foolish prank. "I would give anything if I could undo this!"

"There is nothing to be done; we must wait and see how he fares once he awakens," sighed Legolas dejectedly. "Help me carry him," he directed Lindalcon but Aragorn stepped forward instead.

The mortal hefted his old tutor's soggy ankles and motioned with his chin for Lindalcon to take the shoulders. They struggled, for the Noldo was quite tall and garbed in water logged clothing as well. They trudged awkwardly back to the clearing, the head of a melancholy procession none of them had expected to participate in on what should have been a joyous day.

continued
- 93
- 94
- 95
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Feud