XIV. Ask Me No More Questions

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Italics indicate thoughts.

"It is a challenge, Tuiw, a part of your initiation. There must be three trials endured to earn your place in Noss Othronn and you have accomplished only one thus far."

"Though it was admittedly spectacular, the joke on Tulus and Sîrgel was unintentional and thus not quite as compelling."

"So you can understand that Yejquv (High Council) was most generous in allowing that one to count at all."

The stalwart Hawk princes of Greenwood counselled their baby brother in the playroom/library/classroom adjoining the nursery. The large chamber was sufficient in size to accommodate six children at the table for lessons with sufficient floor space remaining for indoor play. Herein was housed a truly gargantuan collection of toys handed down from all Thranduil's progeny, from the first bold Prince Tuamdir (Strong Hope) to the youngest Raven Princess, all had donated the beloved articles of their elfling days to delight and distract the very last of the King's offspring. Indeed, there was even a set of carved wooden animals said to have been Oropher's when he was but a child.

The playthings were of every kind imaginable and probably some that would surprise the folk of Lorien or Imladris, for in past Ages the Woodland Realm had traded with peoples far and wide, from Lindon to the Sea of Rhûn. Actually, they traded with Dwarven merchants whose sturdy caravans transported goods to and fro along the Forest Road. Through these resourceful intermediaries, Greenwood's elflings had received everything from simple spinning tops and rubber bouncing balls to elaborate key-wound mechanical devices that played music or simulated an animal's natural motions and sounds.

There were hopping frogs and fluttering velvet-winged butterflies, chirping birds and stags that really locked horns. There was an ensemble of dwarvish musicians that played a lively dancing tune on bizarre, pleated instruments that were neither plucked, blown, nor thumped. Instead the figurines' hands alternately squeezed and pulled to create the funny, piping tones. There was a fair elven maiden that danced to a much loved hymn to Yavanna. There was even a set of nested magnifying lenses ground from calcite crystals meant to enhance keen elven sight. Much had changed since Thranduil assumed the throne but the overflowing shelves and trunks provided ample evidence of the once thriving commerce enjoyed by the forest's royal children.

Legolas gazed up at his brothers from his spot on the floor in the centre of a vast array of miniature trees, elves, dwarves, orcs, forest animals, humans, dragons, trolls, and even a hobbit or two, each one painstakingly placed amid the correct location for its kind, though the hobbits were granted an elaborate castle more suited to men, since the Tawarwaith knew little of their true culture. Most of the orcs and trolls were grouped together within the trees, surrounded by a great host of elven archers such that the fiends were obviously doomed. The men were busy trying to stave off a dragon horde threatening their villages and the dwarves were occupied with another orcish army invading their mountain kingdom, from which real smoke could be made to vent from the peak if a little candle hidden within its heart was lit. The Tawarwaith's brow creased in distress and he glanced back to his toys, shifting a troop of human cavalry so that they would flank the invading fire drakes. Legolas idolised his Hawk brothers but this was a hard choice they set before him.

"I did not mean to upset Tulus and Sîr at all. That should not be counted as one of the initiation tests anyway," he said softly, glancing up with swift and pleading eyes to note how this would be received.

"Yejquv has decided; there is nothing you can do about it now. In any case, whether you accept our proposal or not there will be yet another to face, perhaps even more difficult to complete," advised Orgilion, elder of the Hawk Princes and middle son of Thranduil and Ithiloth.

"What about the Tainted Porridge? I did not tell anyone; it is not my fault that Eirien showed up and discovered everything." Legolas felt he had done his utmost to see the difficult situation through without revealing Fêrlass' unsavoury adjustments to the normal recipe. "That one should have counted."

It was just past dawn and all the night-stalkers had returned with their shovels and bags, some more laden with worms than others, and nearly the entire population of the city was preparing for Lim Rui (Fish Hunt). The Hawk Princes were not partnering with anyone, however, for they were among those assigned the task of weighing and counting each team's catch. They stood in their youngest sibling's playroom trying to talk Legolas into mischief. As the warrior princes recalled it, they were never so reticent about causing mayhem as Tuiw and this was surely an indication of the elfling's burdened spirit.

Orgilion looked down upon his baby brother with a solemn and serious countenance, using his most imposingly formidable impression of their Adar he could contrive. The effect was not so laudable as he might have wished for Legolas just stared back at him with those huge innocent blue eyes, no doubt the most formidable display of irresistible adorability possible for an elfling to generate. The fearless captain sighed and turned from the mesmerising gaze, shutting his eyes as he rubbed lightly at his forehead. When he opened them again, Orgilion trained his sight upon the younger Hawk brother in mute appeal.

"Legolas, you do want to belong to Noss Othronn?" asked Menelfân, taking his cue and crouching down on his heels to meet the little one face to face, careful not to topple over any of the miniatures.

"Aye, you know I do."

"Then first and foremost you must be willing to accept the rulings of Yejquv. The plot was discovered and your chance to prevail removed. Who caused that to happen does not matter."

"But why did you choose this task, Men'fân?" came the child's plaintive query.

"It is perfect," insisted Orgilion, answering for his brother and hunkering down to Legolas' level, too. "Everyone is anticipating the fish hunt and paying little attention to anything else. No one is expecting another joke after the Avarin Ambush and the Unexpected Babe, especially not from you."

"Yet after your failure to endure the Tainted Porridge ordeal, two more tests must be successfully met. Our way is best. Just think how amazed our siblings will be to learn you were the one behind all the ruckus," added Menelfân.

"But I am not the one behind it; you two are," whined Legolas. "Eirien will scold me and Minui Nana will confine me to the nursery again. It took me an entire day to write that letter to Tulus even with Galu helping me. I do not want to do it!"

"No one will fuss at you. I promise to take the blame for it if Adar or Nana become upset. I am truly sorry she was so angry about that question you asked Tulus, but I could not intervene for it was solely your own doing. This time, the plot is ours but the daring and courage belong to you alone. What say you?" coaxed Menelfân.

Legolas looked from one to the other of his elder brothers, his personal heroes, and sighed heavily. He wanted more than anything to earn their approval and the right to membership in the House of the Underground Stronghold, but there were one or two ethical issues regarding this prank that just would not go away.

"I just want to make sure none of them die or get hurt. Can you promise me that?" He spoke with that compelling tone of the Voice of Tawar and despite his clear and piping childish pitch the words were nonetheless imbued with a transcendent wisdom and compassion. Bright and piercing, his ageless eyes stared deeply into each of the Hawk Princes' souls to forestall falsehood or deception.

"Now, Tuiw, you know we would not want to put them at risk. Because of Lord Erestor's mishap, the healers have given Cugu and Toloth an antidote to protect them from sickness," reminded Orgilion.

"Aye, but I was not thinking of them so much."

"Well then what worries you? The were-worms? I know you understand that almost all will die during Lim Rui anyway. What difference can it possibly make if some of them perish a little earlier?" Orgilion reasoned.

"None, I guess," mumbled the unconvinced elfling, "but I really like Cugu and Toloth. Why does it have to happen to them?"

"They are foreigners and thus none of Greenwood's Houses can claim retribution. Plus, they are just warriors so Imladris cannot claim offence either. Besides, they found the Avarin Ambush quite amusing. The worst that can happen is Adar will give us another punishment," explained Menelfân patiently.

He was quite eager to have this hoax succeed for several reasons. First, and most important, he was concerned about the stunt Annûnfaen was developing. The whole thing sounded fraught with potential danger and he did not want Legolas in harm's way. Second, the Hawk Plan was simply an excellent prank and it had been a very long while since he and Orgilion engineered and executed such a trick. He had begun to fear they were losing the respect of their siblings because of it. More than once Menelfân had been accused of being as grim and joyless as a First Age Elder even though he was the youngest of the Hawk princes. Third, their intent was to pin the entire caper on the Enemy Camp, as the Ravens and their Butterfly cohorts were now termed, for the siblings had divided over the Balrog Escapade: Dragons and Hawks against Ravens and Butterflies with the Tawarwaith caught in the middle. Of course, Legolas knew nothing about any of that and Menelfân hoped to keep it that way.

"They will be mad if they ever find out it was me," whimpered Legolas. "They will not like me anymore. They are my friends! Cugu ate the nasty porridge for me and Toloth let me hold one of his arrows and…"

"Ai, Legolas, how you go on! They will find it funny; trust me. They laughed about the joke on Tulus, did they not?" encouraged Orgilion. He gripped his baby brother's sagging shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze, smiling into the worried little face.

"Aye, a little bit."

"Then stop fretting over it. Remember, we are taking the credit and thus the blame for the prank. Only at Yejquv (High Council) will we reveal your part in it and you are only responsible for carrying out orders. A well-trained warrior always obeys the orders of his commander. I am Captain of the North Patrol and Gilion is Captain of the Central Guard. We are both superior to you in rank, Tuiw," reminded Menelfân.

"Nay, neither of you are higher than I," insisted Legolas, pulling loose from Orgilion's hold and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest, a dark scowl transforming his features. "I am Tawarwaith; there is no higher rank. I am even superior to Ada. That is, once I grow up I will be. Everybody and everything in Greenwood has to do what I say or the forest will suffer and we will all die."

Both the Hawk brothers groaned in exasperation and stood. They shared their frustration with a silent look and then returned attention to the haughty little elfling at their feet.

"Fine. If you do not want to belong to Noss Othronn then you need not complete the final two tasks," said Orgilion sadly.

"I will let the others know of your decision. You will never be able to use the Secret Speech again, of course," added Menelfân.

"Nor will you be allowed to participate in any of the meetings of Yejquv (High Council). You will be the only one left out." Orgilion shook his head and sighed.

A look of dismay clouded his eyes while inside he was fighting to hold back a strange combination of determination and tears. Legolas' mouth and eyes had popped wide at the first statement of exclusion and his head pivoted between his elder brothers as they continued their dire pronouncements. It was a display of real panic that made Orgilion's heart wrench. All evidence of the omnipotent Voice of Tawar disappeared and once more they had just a lonely little elfling at their feet. Orgilion felt absolutely rotten for resorting to such cruel tactics to gain Legolas' co-operation, but the goal was too important to give in and offer comfort to his baby brother.

"No!" Legolas shouted and leaped forward, scattering toy elves and tiny trees awry, wrapping one arm around Orgilion's right leg and the other around Menelfân's left. "I do not want to be left out! I will do it."

"Good. I am proud of you, Legolas. It takes great courage to undertake a risk of this sort, but I promise you the outcome will not be bad. You will not lose the Noldor's friendship. This is one joke that is positively fool-proof," Menelfân knelt and gathered his baby brother to his heart. He, too, regretted pushing Legolas into this, but if he and Orgilion orchestrated two successful, and safe, pranks for Tuiw then Annûnfaen's scheme would never be realised. Above all, they must protect Legolas from harm.

Legolas sighed as he hugged Menelfân back. "When?"

"They are at breakfast now and we will take it upon ourselves to instruct them in the best methods for success in the fish hunt. Afterwards, they will attend the Convocation of the Houses and the Feast of the Hunters. You must see it done before then, while they are still out practising casting techniques," advised Orgilion, crouching down to take Legolas from his brother and wrap him in a tight embrace.

"All right," whispered Legolas, head dipping low as the burden of the prank weighed upon him anew.

"Come, then, you should have something to eat and we already told Eirien that we would bring you down to the refectory," said Orgilion.

"Eirien! She will find out when I see her and everything will be spoiled." Legolas's tone betrayed that he was relieved to recall this fact.

"Nay, she is bound by the constraints of Lim Rui just like every other elleth. None of the females may participate in the activities, not even the Feast," reminded Menelfân. "and since we took charge of you this morning, she is enjoying a day off with her sister's family on the edge of the city in the Foxes enclave."

"Oh," said Legolas, all hope fleeing from his heart. He would have to see it through now or prove himself dishonourable, his word of no more value than the shiny yellow lead humans tried to pass off for gold. That would never do for a son of Thranduil and would be especially disgraceful for the Tawarwaith. "I do not think I can eat anything right now."

"You must come along and try or Adar will be suspicious," warned Menelfân. He held out his hand and Legolas took it and together the three princes left the cheerful playroom.

They were the last to arrive and indeed were so late that Thranduil had just arisen from his chair to go and seek out his littlest elfling when the trio entered the room. At once they were greeted with a chorus of welcomes and maur-aurs. The King scooped up his youngest and settled him on his shoulder for the short trip from doorway to table where he placed Legolas in the chair right next to him. A plate was already prepared with the prince's favourites for since the disaster of the foul porridge the cook had been striving to serve him something different every day. Legolas did not object to that in the least and even Eirien concurred with this arrangement, for he was more willing to consume what was set before him.

Legolas smiled at the steaming stack of griddle cakes rising from the center of the plate. They were smothered in sweet honey and surrounded with a ring of alternating blueberries and raspberries. A glass of clear water stood nearby and Legolas grabbed up his fork and dived in, finding his appetite suddenly aroused. He shoved an immense chunk in his mouth and set to chewing, only then content to survey the room and listen to the conversations around him.

To his Ada's right was Lord Erestor, who smiled kindly when Legolas garnered his notice by vigourously waving a sticky fork quite close to the regal elf's long straight nose. The aloof Noldorin noble looked rather pale but otherwise there was no indication that he had been attacked by a were-worm, for his appearance and manner were flawlessly cordial while retaining exactly the correct amount of formality for breakfast with the King's family. Beside Erestor sat Sîr, quietly nibbling at an apple, a far away, distracted, and decidedly worried expression in his troubled eyes. He smiled half-heartedly when Legolas wished him good-morning, still distraught over the terrible row he had had with Tulus. Life for the Prince of the Beeches had become immensely complicated incredibly quickly and with Lim Rui at hand he was unlikely to be able to consult his Adar, or even Galion, for at least two days.

Ithiloth was on the King's other hand across from Legolas and sent her nephew a serious look intended to prevent even the thought of trouble from germinating in his fertile brain. Legolas knew how to handle her, however, and stood on his chair to pronounce a solemn Morning Blessing from Tawar for which everyone had to rise and bow toward the heart of the forest. The Silver Queen at once responded with proper and respectful gratitude, pleased to see the nascent Tawarwaith so immersed in the sacred legacy of their House. Lothanor was next to Sîr, for she was the First Daughter of the First Wife and would become Queen of Greenwood if Sîr failed to wed. She was chatting with Brithla and their mother, Calargyll, about Lim Rui, bemoaning the fact that none of the Ladies of the Houses were permitted to join in. Brithla parroted back her sister's views but neither could get their Nana to concur. Calargyll had other things on her mind. She tried to catch Thranduil's glance, certain something was up among their combined brood, but he was either thoroughly engrossed in whatever Lord Erestor was saying or deliberately ignoring her.

The youngest Butterfly Daughter, Gwithiriel, was normally found next to Glamor for the two were inseparable friends as well as sisters, but the contention over the Balrog Escapade had made them enemies. She sat with her back angled to Glamor's face, talking with the Raven twins across the table instead. Huneb'ell, seated between Glamor and Galurem, did not fail to notice the dissension between her daughter and Gwithiriel, though she had been unable to get either elleth to reveal the nature of the quarrel. She sat across from Corchrîn, with whom she exchanged meaningless small-talk and portentous glances.

Corchrîn was just as convinced as her fellow wives that trouble was simmering, noting how coldly Galu was treating Annûn. Generally the two got along well enough, considering they were siblings and shared little in common except a couple of friends among the sylvan population. Actually, Galu had few companions outside of Annûn's circle. The Foxes were a powerful House and having disowned and shamed Galurem was enough to cause lesser clans to treat him with indifference at best and open scorn at worst. The Raven House had a history of supporting the Foxes contentious position, a policy Thranduil's beloved had never agreed with, and Corchrîn always encouraged her children to include Galurem in their activities.

The twins were less amenable to this than her daughter and Corchrin was honest enough to understand that this was because Annûn was not like the rest of Thranduil's sellath (daughters). She was different and it was this shared condition that lay at the base of the friendship between her and Galu. To see them so much at odds was a very bad sign, for it was not in either one's nature to be unkind without cause, particularly Galu, and the only cause that generally evoked his wrath involved Legolas. Putting all this together, Corchrîn was on the verge of feeling alarmed but knew better than to attempt to get any of the siblings to reveal whatever was happening. She, too, sought her husband's attention, but Thranduil was busy trying to get Legolas to resume eating. The child was completely absorbed in watching his Hawk brothers and the Noldorin warriors at the end of the table.

Now more than likely, Corchrîn would have succeeded eventually and perhaps some kind of intervention might have been brought to bear upon all the King's children. Events were already in motion that pre-empted this, however, for the Hawk Princes had already launched their plan. No one was paying them any mind except for Legolas, who was watching and avidly listening to their words through the soft din of many voices close at hand. He was quite torn about the whole ordeal. On the one hand, he truly wanted to become part of Noss Othronn. On the other, the only way he would get to do so was if he fulfilled his part and launched a trick on his new friends. If only I could think of another way.

Suddenly Orgilion and Menelfân got up as did Cugu and Toloth and all four approached the King's place. The Princes bowed low and the Noldorin warriors bowed lower and Orgilion spoke.

"Hiren Adar, we feel it is unfair to ask our guests to participate in this hunt without having a chance to learn how to cast and draw the nets. In the spirit of our lands' new accord, we would like to give Cugu, Toloth, and Lord Erestor a few lessons in form and procedure."

"That is most admirable and thoughtful," murmured Thranduil, observing his sons shrewdly. He was no fool and detected the vaguely ominous, understated aroma of adrenalin, a sure indicator of a prank in the offing. Besides, it was Sîr's duty to attend the guests; the Hawks were seldom so willing to take on their senior brother's tasks. The King directed his gaze to Greenwood's heir and almost startled. Sîrgel did not even seem to be aware of the conversation. Whatever was happening, he was entirely in the dark and his Adar was at once concerned. Of all the times to give Eirien a day off, I chose today. "It would indeed be discourteous to put our guests at a disadvantage during the Fish Hunt."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Though we have no hope of winning in this fishing competition even with such aid, we are highly honoured to be included," replied Cugu with real glee. He waved back at Legolas since the elfling was fairly jumping up and down in his seat hoping to be noticed.

Toloth smiled to see Legolas so excited. "Maur-aur, Prince of the Forest. Will you be taking part in the fishing trip?"

"No, Ada says I am too little to go. I am not! I could catch more of those Naew Velig (Big Jaws) than anyone," boasted the child, shooting his Ada a resentful glower and kicking the leg of the table so hard his juice sloshed over and made a spill.

"Legolas Thranduilion!" admonished Ithiloth, cheeks colouring to have the Noldor witness this unseemly behaviour on top of the debacle at dinner. "You will maintain a respectful demeanour in the presence of your elders at all times. Such displays of discourtesy are unworthy of the Tawarwaith."

"Tuiw, the only way to catch Naew Velig is to use the boats," Sîr cut off her tirade with this quiet reminder. He reached over to squeeze the elfling's shoulder as the memory of why he hated boats instantly drained away all Legolas' insolence.

"Forgive me, Legolas," said Toloth, upset to have once again emphasised the child's loss. "I did not know we would be going in boats. In Imladris, fishing is done by standing on the banks of the river or wading along in the shallows."

"Aye, we do that kind of fishing, too." Thranduil pulled Legolas onto his lap and wrapped his arms around him, landing a quick kiss on the downcast crown of golden hair. "This hunt is different and only those of age may compete. It is a very dangerous activity but a necessary one as well. Legolas will be allowed to join the Lords once the hazardous segment is finished. You will be there at my side for the weighing and measuring, Tuiw. We will claim the winning prize together." He leaned forward and kissed the solemn little face as Legolas grabbed up a strand of the King's hair and planted his thumb between his lips. He gave the barest nod and shrug in acknowledgement, leaning back with a sigh into the comfort of his father's protective embrace.

"What say you, Hîr Erestor?" asked Toloth.

Well, everyone wanted to uplift the grieving child, including stately Lord Erestor. He could not forget the magnitude of the Tawarwaith's compelling grace upon their meeting and yet was far more moved by the poignant interaction between father and son. It was upsetting; Thranduil had lost so many he loved already and it was plain that Legolas, though recovering, was not beyond the grip of this most insidious and tenacious of elven afflictions. If there was any way to aid him, Erestor was ready to do it.

He studied the Hawk Princes from the corner of his eyes, careful not to permit this scrutiny to be obvious. Like the rest of the elder Elves, Imladris' Chief Advisor was not short on insight and his experience with Elrond's children had taught him well. Every subtle nuance of voice, posture, and tone indicated the Hawk Princes were about to pull a stunt and the worthy guardsmen of the Hidden Vale were to be the victims. Erestor smiled in devious delight; here was something to cheer up the downcast elfling and, if the prank was a really good one, might just overshadow the tale of his embarrassing altercation with the were-worms.

"I am certain Cugu and Toloth would benefit from Orgilion and Menelfân's instruction," he said.

A soft but audible sigh drew his eyes to the elfling in Thranduil's arms. Indeed, the sound caught everyone's notice and all interest focused on Legolas, who belatedly attempted to hide his woebegone dismay.

"What is it, Tuiw?" Thranduil asked. "Would you like to go along with your brothers and try your hand at casting, too?"

At this the Hawk Princes shared a dismayed look. There was nothing they could do, however, and resigned themselves to trust in their baby brother's ingenuity to refuse their Adar's suggestion and execute the grand scheme. Then a light nudge of a foot against his heel alerted Orgilion to Galurem's presence at his side. The three brothers silently affirmed their solidarity in guarding Legolas from the perilous quest the ingenious Raven Princess was devising.

"Aye, I do want to go with them," the child answered truthfully. "I just do not want to do my chores and if Cugu and Toloth are busy with Gilion and Men'fân, then I will not be able to spend the morning with them."

It was not exactly a remarkably astute answer and, based on their confused expressions, he could tell the elders were trying to determine the logic behind it. Since there really was none, they would surely conclude it had something to do with grieving. He was one step away from being confined to the nursery again 'for his well-being'. Legolas sighed dejectedly and put his thumb back in his mouth. Normally he enjoyed being the centre of attention but not when everyone was staring at him with such concerned and despairing expressions.

"Legolas, I will help you tidy up the playroom and then we can join Cugu and Toloth before the hunt begins," Galu stepped in and took matters in hand. Greenwood's Dragon Prince did not know the details of his brothers' plan but like everyone else he could sense the impending prank. He would do anything to protect Legolas and had denounced the Balrog Escapade as too dangerous for such a youngling. It was clear to him what his brothers were trying to accomplish, and if it was obvious to him it was transparent as water to the rest of the siblings also. A quick check at their disgruntled visages confirmed that; the Ravens and Butterflies were not pleased.

"Nay, it is a special day; let him go and have his fun with his new friends since he is not allowed on the hunt," Lothanor objected. She sent Galu a piercingly admonishing glare and then turned her ire on her Hawk brothers. Menelfân and Orgilion were immune to her silent threats and returned only a smugly indulgent sort of smirk. Nothing irritated the First Daughter of the Butterfly House more than this blatant condescension. "Or perhaps I should go and help Legolas as well to make sure he finishes quickly and can join you for at least part of the time."

"Three to undertake so paltry a task?" Sîrgel entered the discussion, having finally caught on that something was afoot and he had no idea what it was. They had concocted another trial for Tuiw without his input or approval, and that led to but one conclusion: Lothanor had convened Yejquv. If there was one thing that displeased him, it was having Lothanor usurp his authority as Iarwain o Yejquv (Eldest of the High Council). He threw in his lot with his brothers and the Dragon Prince. "Surely Galu and Legolas can manage well enough." The Butterflies and the Ravens sent him such smouldering looks of furious disgust that, had he been a lesser Elf, Sîr would surely have backed down. As it was, he returned the same contemptuous sneer adorning the Hawk Princes' features.

"Yes. Well," said Thranduil, finally acknowledging the now alarmed expressions of his wives' faces. There was good reason for their apprehension. The stand-off just presented had all the markings of a Sibling Civil War.

On the scale of Sibling Interaction, this was Very Bad, just one tick below Imminent Disaster, the highest level of danger possible. The last time there was a Sibling Civil War, Thranduil's kingdom was nearly reduced to chaos. The list of potential hoaxes and jokes was boundless, everything from spiking the wine with Enchanted Water to replacing the honey with raw tree sap. In fact, those were rather standard jokes and the King hated to think what new japes his children might invent. At any given moment, someone could, and surely would, fall victim to the royal offsprings' stunts. What was worse, this penchant for pranks was infectious and the citizens invariably took sides and took part. Before long, it would no longer be a Sibling Civil war but an all out feud between the Clans, with ancient grudges granted new life even as new ones were created. No one would be safe.

Though this was a serious situation, the threat of mischief on so massive a scale was not what kindled Thranduil's parental instincts to volcanic proportions. Legolas was at the centre of the brewing dispute and that could mean only one thing: it was all about the initiation. The distraught father tightened his protective hold around his smallest son and sent his elder offspring his most direly portentous and foreboding glower of remonstrance, a veritable guarantee of harsh penalties, up to and including Dung Processing, should any undo stress plague their muindor laes (baby brother).

"I believe Legolas can manage just fine without any help from the rest of you," he announced. "In fact, I do not want any of you interfering with Legolas' activities, whether they are chores, entertainment, lessons, or some other as yet undefined category. Is this understood?" Thranduil met each of his children's eyes, soundlessly ordering them to cease and desist all jokes, gyps, gags, tricks, swindles, scams, and schemes.

He had little hope that they would honour this unspoken command, though they would pay careful attention to the letter of the law. He did not want to forbid the initiation outright but was determined to protect his littlest elfling from their machinations. Hopefully, removing the chance to help Legolas with the pranks he was given to complete would ensure they would be simple and harmless. If Thranduil had to endure stink bombs, centipedes in his bed, sour sap instead of honey, or catch the giggles from Enchanted water, he was up to it. He was willing to bear anything, endure everything for Legolas' sake.

Thus, the King of the Woodland Realm, Principal Lord of the House of the Beeches, Last of the Royal Sindarin Monarchs of Doriath, inadvertently confirmed and endorsed the design of the Hawks and the Dragons. Thranduil had unwittingly, unknowingly, and undeniably chosen a Side.

A profoundly tense silence seeped into the cheery breakfast room on the heels of the King's announcement, obliterating any scrap of fellowship and camaraderie remaining. Like opposing generals on a field of war, Greenwood's princes and princesses glared at one another across the table. There would be no truce.

"You are right, Adar. Legolas is not a babe any longer and should learn to manage his responsibilities the same as any other elfling his age." There was no missing the triumphant gleam in Sîrgel's eyes as he smiled at Lothanor during this speech.

"We will do as you bid, Adar," Lothanor managed to grind out through her clenched jaws.

"There now, penneth; we will go along ahead and you see to your room. You can show us what to do with the worms when you get done." Toloth's smile was immense, a forced expression meant to mask his sudden realisation that trouble was on the horizon. Fully versed in the shenanigans of the Twin Terrors of Imladris and their faithful sidekick, the Abominable Undomiel, the intrepid warrior edged closer to his mate.

"Do you still want to come and help us learn how to hunt the fish?" Cugu noticed the escalating tension as well and leaned down to peer into the huge blue eyes. He was not intimidated by the pending cataclysm but did not want this little one to get caught in the middle and end up in the Silver Queen's disfavour again. The elfling had already endured two punishments in as many days.

"Aye," sighed the Tawarwaith. "Let me go and do what must be done." With that he slid from his father's lap, turning to give his Ada a hug and a kiss, his tone and manner so solemn one would think he was a warrior leaving for the Southern Patrol. He marched from the refectory, determination settled about his small frame as closely as the heavy cloak of destiny with which he had been born.

He went straight to his rooms and took his time tidying things up. He carefully counted his miniature figures, dumping the evil creatures in a black canvas drawstring bag and gathering the various representatives of the free peoples into each kind's separate box. All the trees had to be arranged on shelves for they were too large to cram into a bin and might be damaged if he tried. Legolas was not about to do that and made sure to arrange the models by type and stature. As he worked, he internally debated what to do. Two things were certain: he wanted to become part of Noss Othronn and he did not want to make his Noldorin friends the subjects of his brothers' joke. How to make the two wishes coincide was the dilemma. The very last tree was settled on the shelf and Legolas sighed, sitting down on the bench to think, elbows on his knees and chin cupped in his hands.

"Legolas? What is wrong,Tuiw?" Thranduil called from the playroom door. Unbeknown to his son, the king had followed and watched the chore being done, taking note of the lacklustre demeanour his elfling prince displayed. He came in and sat beside the golden haired child with a smile, reaching an arm around the small form to comfort his favourite child. Woebegone blue eyes stared up at him, the cherubic face set in grim and serious mien.

"Ada, I have to do something that I do not want to do, but if I fail to complete it then something I do want very much will not happen," Legolas answered honestly yet as evasively as he knew how. He was not very good at hiding things from his Ada. Legolas snuggled up close against the strength of his father, wishing he could just tell him everything while hoping no questions would demand a confession.

Thranduil knew what it was all about of course and spared Legolas any probing enquiries. Instead, he rendered a more general sort of interrogatory counsel. "Is what you have been asked to do dangerous or harmful? Would anyone be hurt enough to have to see the healers?"

"No, Ada."

"I see. Yet you do not feel comfortable, even so?"

"Aye. I do not want anyone to be hurt inside either, where their feelings are. Like what happened to Tulus; I did not mean for everyone to laugh at her. I do not like it when people laugh at me and I have never met anyone who does. Have you, Ada?"

"No, Legolas, I have not," Thranduil answered thoughtfully, studying his son's troubled features, wondering with an anxious heart who was laughing at his littlest prince and why. He hugged Legolas closer. "If it is this much of a burden, then you should not do it, for your spirit is weighed down. Listen to your instincts and trust them; they are the best counsellors you will ever have and they are always with you."

"I know, but what about the other thing, the thing I want to have? How can I get it if I do not do this other thing?"

"Is this the only way?"

"Well, some other task would have to be done in its place that might be even harder."

"Ah. Can you modify the command?" Thranduil's query provoked a look of wondering hope within his child's eyes and he gave Legolas a conspiratorial wink.

"No one said I could not!" Legolas grinned.

"Then that is what you should do. Change it so that no one is to be laughed at or harmed, inside or out. I know you can find another way. You are Tawarwaith and though you are young the forest will aid you if you ask, as will I. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, Ada, I have to do it by myself or it does not count. I do not see how the forest can help me, though." Legolas' brow creased with lines as he frowned, trying to imagine how to get the trees to lend their aid. What could they know about were-worms and practical jokes?

"Well, without more details I cannot advise you further. I suggest you go to your favourite tree and meditate within its branches as you think on it. I'll walk with you to the gardens for I need to see how your Hawk brothers are doing with our Noldorin guests. How long do you think you need to complete this assignment?"

Legolas shrugged and sighed, rising from the bench as his father did. "Not long I hope."

"All right. I'll let you think on the puzzle for a time. Galu will come along to retrieve you so when you are done thinking, return here and wait. He will bring you out to the lake. I will have to entertain our noble guest from foreign lands, hmmm?" Thranduil bent to kiss his small son's cheek and instantly Legolas wrapped his arms around his neck, clinging tight in an unmistakable request to be carried. Thranduil smiled as he hoisted him up onto his right shoulder. "I am tempted to climb into the trees with you; I have been stuck in this stony fortress too long," he said.

"You can climb in my tree any time you want to, Ada," offered Legolas graciously. He felt better, even though the problem was not solved, knowing his Ada had no doubt he could see it done.

As for Thranduil, he left his youngest son in the garden with mixed feelings, concerned that the initiation seemed to be so great a burden. He did not remember it being so difficult for the others.

It is safe to assume the young Tawarwaith was exceedingly testy with his beloved trees that day, for the mighty oaks and beeches were thoroughly flummoxed and failed to understand what he was asking. What do trees know of jokes and rites of initiation engineered by a brood of Elves? Nothing, Legolas learned to his dismay. He perched in his favourite nook in his favourite tree for over an hour, exhorting the elderly oak to present a solution, a way to keep the were-worms alive, prevent the Noldor form becoming angry with him, and win the respect of his brothers and sisters. The hapless hardwood could only lament its lack of ideas and offer a kind of gently swaying apology. Legolas was forced to admit his Ada had for once been wrong. On top of that, he could hear the fun going on in the far meadow where the river drifted in lazy currents through the stronghold's grounds. That portion of the water course was used for training warriors in the art of boating and it was clear that teaching this skill to the Imladrian warriors was proving an amusing challenge to the Hawk princes.

Legolas sighed in dejected melancholy. They were all having a fun time, his new friends laughing and joking and shouting as much as the instructors and the obvious crowd of onlookers. It was so frustrating! All he had to do was pack the warriors' dress boots with were-worms and he could go join them. Yet this was just exactly what the elfling did not want to do, not at all. He just knew, no matter what his brothers said, that Cugu and Toloth would not find it amusing to stick their feet down into those boots and squish to death a handful of writhing worms, receiving a dozen or more sharp bites before the creatures expired. They would not laugh, not right away and not later on, either. They would be furious and when they learned who had stuffed their foot gear with venomous crawlers, their feelings would be wounded.

They will not want to call me their friend after that.

Another prodigious sough left the small Elf's lungs and almost simultaneously a great shout, a tremendous splash, and a rousing cry of Oh! all sounded from the river side. Bright braying laughter resounded amid spluttery coughs and groans. The foreign Elves most certainly had tipped their boat and gone into the water. Legolas balled up his hands into fists and pounded twice with all his might on the branch of the tree. It was not fair, not one bit! Tell me how to fix it. he silently demanded but only a bewildered and woeful rustling of the limbs followed.

"How can I think with all that noise going on?" the child asked aloud. The tree concurred and advised its small charge to climb up higher where the air was sweet and cool.

Legolas did so, eager to look upon the endless blue vault of the sky. Maybe that would help clear things up. In no time his head popped out of the upper most limit of the canopy and he broke into a delighted grin. All around him the green leaves billowed and swayed in the softly blowing wind, as if the earth bound giants sought to chase after the high white clouds scudding along in the airy expanse above them. Then Legolas caught his breath in joy: the butterflies were back! He hadn't known it was butterfly season, or maybe he had forgotten in all the excitement of having visitors and making new friends. If his hands were not engaged in clinging tight to the flimsy branches, he would have clapped in delight.

It did not take long for the velvety black insects to note his presence; indeed, it was as though the butterflies had been waiting for his arrival. From all around the treetops they fluttered around him, alighting on the leaves close to him, one landing on the top of his golden head to make him laugh. It seemed to please the delicate creatures to hear it and at once a sort of butterfly tag began, with various individuals fluttering up to perch on his nose, his head, the tips of his ears. In no time the elfling was giggling and had forgotten all about his troubles. Then a distant voice called his name and he remembered, for it was Galu, searching for him. The plot and his part in it returned to him at once and his smile disappeared. Just then, a trio of the inky lepidoptera proceeded to enact a lovely flighty dance around his head. It was wonderful and he wished his Ada could see it, and Cugu and Toloth, and Lord Erestor, too.

"I doubt they have butterflies like you in Imladris," the little prince informed his fluttery friends and their jerky motions surely confirmed it. "Perhaps they do not have any kind of butterfly there at all." It was then and there he figured out the answer to his problem.

"It was a wonderful idea, Tuiw," said Orgilion, but his tone was indicative of his deep dismay even if its timbre was cheery and bright.

"Aye, everyone thought it was grand," added Menelfân, equally anxious to sound positive while his heart was equally glum.

"Still, it hardly qualifies as any kind of prank at all, Tuiw," concluded Galurem without bothering to hide hide his disgust. "Whatever were you thinking?"

"I just did not want Cugu and Toloth to be angry with me. They are my friends, Galu," the child pleaded. Everything had gone so perfectly; why was it so wrong? "I thought the butterflies' dancing was very funny. They were playing chase and landing on my nose and ears. It was ticklish and made me laugh. I thought we wanted to make the strangers laugh, too."

Menelfân sighed, dropping to his knees beside his baby brother. "You know what will happen now," he explained in dreary hopelessness. "Yejquv will not allow this as a qualifying joke."

The three elder princes had herded the youngest off into the library so to interrogate the Tawarwaith. The Hunter's Feasts had been a huge success, more so than any other either brother could recall, and this was thanks most of all to the magnificent display of a hundred huge black butterflies cavorting and flitting all around the great banquet hall. One and all praised the scene and while the foreign guests thanked their host, Thranduil was as mystified as they. He sought the gaze of each wife in turn, especially Calargyll who delighted in providing just such unusual touches to her husband's many parties, but not a single one would accept the credit.

The King passed his eye among his numerous offspring, noting that they were equally surprised by the butterflies appearance at the feast. Except for his littlest son, that is, for of course Legolas had orchestrated the grand display all by himself, his alternative to the ugly, messy jest his brothers had hoped he would carry out. The little one was beaming proudly and, as soon as his Adar asked him directly, owned up to the 'joke', as he termed it. That was when the Hawks and Dragons all groaned in miserable aggravation while the Ravens and the Butterflies smirked in complacent delight. Thranduil understood the situation at once and so did Legolas. His happy bubble burst, his face falling into a harried expression of dismay as he met the eyes of his elder Hawk brothers, giving them a half shrug in answer to the open questions in their wide, grey eyes.

As soon as they could reasonably make their escape, Orgilion, Menelfân, and Galu exited the dining room with their baby brother in tow, ostensibly to oversee his bath but really to get to the bottom of the affair.

"We will naturally oppose this decision and force a vote," interposed Gilion, "but there are not enough votes on our side to make it good."

"Are you sure, Gilion?" pleaded the child, hoping there was some mistake.

Galu shook his head. "Nay, Legolas. Two Dragons and Three Hawks against three Ravens and three Butterflies equals our failure. Now there are still two pranks to complete."

"I wish you had done as we asked," said Menel softly, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder. The little one was all stiff and sad, fighting off tears that were just beneath the surface.

"I am sorry, Men'fân," he said glumly. "I will do the next joke exactly as you say, as long as it isn't against Cugu and Toloth. Why can't it be played on the Butterfly daughters instead?"

Gilion sighed and shook his head. "That was the plan, remember? We were going to make sure the were-worm trick was blamed on the Ravens and the Butterflies."

"You did not tell me that part," complained the nascent Tawarwaith indignantly. "I might have done it if you'd told me." He glowered at his big brother.

"You did not explain it to him?" demanded Galu, incredulous. "How can you hope to succeed if you keep Legolas in the dark"

"We told him we would take the blame; that should have been sufficient," argued Orgilion. "He had only to carry out one small task and we would have seen to the rest. The Ravens and the Butterflies would be continuing their punishment chores now if Legolas had obeyed us."

"Never mind all that now," Menelfân interrupted before the disagreement could get worse. "We need to come up with another prank quickly."

"Perhaps you should include me this time," a new voice spoke. Sîr stood framed in the doorway, arms akimbo and a most disappointed expression transforming his features. "I am the eldest, after all, and have had more experience than any of you in thinking up successful pranks. There are some incidents for which I am the author yet which others are still held accountable, after fifty years or more gone by." The Prince of the Beeches strode into the room and scooped up Legolas in his arms. "Do not be sad, Tuiw, I know you were trying hard to make this work out."

"I was, Sîr," the elfling nodded vigourously. "Since you are oldest, can you not make the others understand and accept the joke?"

Thranduil's heir grimaced and shook his head. "Nay, Yejquv rules require a majority agreement for all disputes to be settled. Menelfân is right; we need to devise another trick, one that you can manage with little help and no qualms."

"What do you suggest?" asked Galu. For many minutes the assembled princes waited for Sîrgel to reply, but he remained quiet, his visage serious and pensive. At last the others began listing the usual catalogue of jests.

"We could put gelatine in the baths and sprinkle maple-seed hairs in their underclothes," offered Orgilion.

"Who, the foreign warriors?" Legolas asked anxiously.

"Nay, the Butterfly daughters," said Orgilion.

"That is such an old joke," complained Menelfân. "We should craft an order to reassign all the talans in the fourth sector of the city, making it appear to be a careful forgery of Adar's writing all the while forging Lothanor's."

"That is too complicated for Legolas to do on his own," reminded Galu. "We should focus on the Fish Hunt, since that is to be on the morrow."

"Aye," Sîrgel agreed, a sly smile overtaking his features as he gave Legolas a little toss up into the air and caught him. "Tuiw, would you like to make sure more of the were-worms escape their doom?"

"Oh, that is a good idea," snickered Galu. "I think the best target would be the Ravens."

"Ah, so that you can win the prized boots?" laughed Orgilion.

"That and to pay back Fêrlass for his miserably planned tainted breakfast plot," agreed the Dragon Prince.

"What do I have to do?" asked Legolas, hopeful his big brother had an answer his conscience could abide.

"Just return all the Raven team's were-worms to freedom," explained Sîr. "No matter how skilled they are, if they fail to attract sufficient females to the breeding pools, they will not net enough fish to win the contest."

And so it was decided; Legolas was to empty all the were-worms out of their Raven brother's sack, replacing the venomous crawlers with harmless earthworms, for which Naew Velig had no taste. Little did the schemers know, Brithla, middle daughter of the Noss Gwilwileth, had been assigned the duty of spying on the enemy. She had overheard everything and hastened away to inform her cohorts of the underhanded ploy.

TBC