There were some days that time seemed to stand still. It was an unbearable thing for anyone, but even more so for an elf. More oft than usual, Haldir caught himself checking the position of the sun in the sky, and cursing it for not moving faster. When at last he could no longer stand the monotony and the weeks of watching and waiting - for nothing, not orc nor man, had breached the border - he decided to make a full sweep of the perimeter and check the stability of the outposts. It was a job he had planned to put off until winter, when the woods were more secure and the long hike around Lothlorien would keep his mind from the low temperatures and light snow, but his current boredom overpowered him.
With him he took Torech, one of the lower ranked wardens, but an elf with an acute attention to detail. If there was even a single sliver of wood out of place on the guard flets, Torech was bound to find it.
When they reached the Northern Fences, his lieutenants were at first overjoyed to have their captain visit, but their happiness lessened as they found out what brought him to their tree.
"So you do not trust that our flet is safe?" asked Orophin with eyes narrowed.
Haldir shook his head. "That is not what I said. I do not want to find out that your flet was not safe, especially if there is an attack. All we must do is inspect the structure and be sure there is no damage from previous battles or natural causes."
"It is safe enough," argued Orophin. "We have not fallen from it, and there are no loose boards. Why do you not pester Thranden and Lothineth about their flet?" he asked, pointing to the southwestern area of the woods.
"We have come from their flet and I have 'pestered' them about it, and they ever so kindly removed what was on their flet so that Torech and I could inspect it. The procedure was quite painless, though I must inform you that it will be much more difficult for you to remove your things from your post if you are also trying to remove my foot from your-"
The conversation continued along the same lines, and although Rumil was less than pleased with the unannounced inspection as well, he knew it was best to shut up and not talk back to their leader - even if their leader was their brother. Haldir would no doubt find the contraband he and Orophin had stashed in their flet, and in turn would report such findings to the Lord and Lady now that Orophin had riled him up. Even that wasn't so horrible, except that when your Lord and Lady are also your Ada and Nana, it tends to happen that your captain brings up your transgressions during unexpected times, such as family dinners.
"If only you would have told him outright you had a case of it stashed here," snarled Rumil at Orophin once they were again alone at their post, "then he might have let us keep most of it if you'd have shared some with him."
"We won it fair and square from those men who passed by. I wasn't about to let him take it!" snapped Orophin. He drew his cloak about him even in the warmth of the sun.
"But he did take it, Oro!" shouted Rumil. Stomping angrily upon the wooden floor, he crossed his arms. "He might have taken a bottle or two, and we'd have kept the rest. But now, it's all washed away in the stream." He threw himself down on the floor and snorted a few times. "I hope the fish like Gondorian whiskey."
Orophin put his arm around Rumil and drew him closer. "Look on the bright side. Our post is in 'Perfect Operating Order'."
Rumil glared at the meager home they shared while on duty. "I should like to burn this talan before I sail west. In fact, I think I shall."
"Poor tree," chuckled Orophin, knowing full well Rumil said the words only in a moment of rage.
"No, I shall rip the 'perfect post' down, board by board, and set the blaze in the stream. With the alcohol content of the water, it should be quite the sight."
Orophin frowned and looked around. Not only had the whiskey been seized, but a number of other items that had been carefully smuggled had been taken as well. "I'm bored." Only the most necessary items remained, including a stack of parchment tied loosely with twine, meant for writing notes home to loved ones or messages to the other wardens. Orophin smiled wickedly and began to search the flet for a quill.
- - -
"Captain?" Torech passed the waterskin to Haldir, who, though normally quite talkative, was deep in thought with furrowed brow. "Please do not be hard on yourself for being hard on them."
Haldir shook his head after drinking. "That is not my worry. I was not too hard on them. I did exactly what I would have done had I caught any of the other wardens in such a position. The problem is that it feels as if I was too hard on them."
"Because they are your brothers," Torech reasoned.
Haldir did not answer. Instead his attention was caught by the sound of an arrow overhead. It pierced the ground at his feet and the shaft plunged into the ground. Black feathers fluttered in the breeze. Both Galadhrim were on their feet, back to back, with bows raised defensively without a moment's hesitation. Listening intently, they spent the next few minutes surveying the area.
"Captain!" Torech nudged Haldir with his elbow. "There is something attached to the arrow."
Indeed, there was, and Haldir cautiously lowered his weapon before yanking the arrow from the soil. The feathers, he noted, were dripping a black liquid, as if someone had dunked them in ink not too long ago and had not dried them before firing the shot. From the shaft he pulled a scrap of folded parchment and read it to himself. He crumbled it in disgust, throwing it to the ground. After a brief pause, he grasped the arrow, ripping it from the ground, and broke it over his knee, throwing that to the ground as well. Then, he sat down on the ground once more.
Torech lowered his weapon and said nothing of Haldir's behavior. He eyed the ball of parchment and glanced to Haldir. The captain saw the questioning look in his eyes and turned away. "Go ahead. Read it." Torech wasted no time in retrieving the message.
" 'Haldir is short.' " Torech pressed his lips firmly together so that he would not smile.
Haldir looked over his shoulder. "You did not have to read it out loud," he complained, but his own face did not show signs of anger. Leave it to his brothers to find something to amuse themselves with when all of their toys had been taken from them. He looked to the sack filled with games, playing cards, and other items that had been banned from the borders. Another arrow hit the ground. Haldir rolled his eyes at it, but Torech knew it was to be retrieved, and jogged over to it, carefully taking the parchment from this arrow. "Well?" asked Haldir once Torech had read the contents. The younger elf simply brought the creased paper to his leader, cheeks puffed slightly to contain his laughter. " 'And Wide.' " Haldir crumpled the new note and tossed it aside. A third arrow flew now, sticking into the tree nearby. He pulled the arrow from the tree's wound and shook the paper open. " 'Ha.' "
Haldir picked up the bag of confiscated items and swung it over his shoulder. "I am not about to have a trail of arrows marking my path through the woods," he grumbled. If letting his brothers have cards and dice on the borders kept them in check and fulfilling their duties, so be it. There was no way the arrows could have made it all the way from their outpost, which meant one of them - likely Orophin - was trailing them, leaving a gap in the defenses. Even with Rumil watching the border, it was too risky to leave a lone elf guarding the perimeter. Not that he wasn't about to discipline them as well, but he found that sometimes a compromise was the best way to keep the Galadhrim from rebellion. "Stay here, Torech, I will be back shortly."
Torech chuckled once Haldir was out of earshot. He had often heard the brothers curse one another and seen them slap or kick each other, but the majority of their rivalry was in jest. Haldir could not truly deny his brothers anything. In fact, when he and Haldir had carried the whiskey to the stream nearby, Torech was instructed to bury the bottles in the hollowed stump of an old maple. Torech had a feeling the captain's younger brothers would be getting their liquor back, too.
Setting about to clean up their rest stop, Torech was surprised when a fourth arrow was shot into the area. He cautiously made his way to it, worrying that if many more were shot, he might risk the chance of getting hit. He pulled the arrow and took the message from it.
Is he coming?
Torech smiled and fiddled with the paper in his hands. Obviously, the brother sending the messages - Torech also wagered it was Orophin - was somehow able to see some of what was going on, but not all of it. Of the three, Orophin's eyes and ears were the best, and his aim truer than any of the rest of his siblings. Torech looked to the trees in the distance, finally picking out a spec of grey among the golden boughs. He scrambled for his pack and pulled from it his own quill and ink. Next to the message already written, he added the words
Not Yet.
and sent the arrow back to its sender. It was only a few seconds before the arrow was returned, and Torech watched the spec disappear from the tree as he plucked the arrow from the ground.
Liar. Off I go.
Torech grinned. He had one sister, but no brothers, and wondered if the trio had always been this playful. Haldir had gained much responsibility and had become a stern elf at times, but at gatherings, he was one of the most social and jolly elves of the woods. Torech had little contact with the younger brothers, and did not know much about them, except that Orophin liked to get into trouble, and Rumil liked to make trouble but stay out of it. On a few rare occasions, he had spoken to the Lady Celebrian briefly about her brothers, and she had nothing but praise and high regards for them, but the events of their youth was something of a mystery. Torech imagined the Lord and Lady had their hands quite full raising their children. Yet, the single most confusing thing was why none of the three - except in jest - would allow themselves to be called Lord. Torech's thoughts were interrupted by another arrow.
If he comes back, tell him that another came signed by Rumil.
Torech laughed once again, and wrote
You're evil.
upon it before firing it back. The suspicion that Orophin was the culprit was confirmed, and Torech waited longer than he had expected to have to for a reply. Instead of parchment, a large mallorn leaf was attached to the arrow that came, and the feathers were white, not black. Orophin had obviously run out of supplies and had to improvise a little. Torech carefully unfolded the leaf, barely making out the word
Obviously
that was written on it.
Torech repacked everything, with the exception of his quill and ink, and waited for the captain to return. He was not surprised in the least when, after nearly an hour of waiting, another arrow was embedded into the ground with a loud 'thwap!'. Again, it was a white arrow, and the leaf attached had seen better days. Torech assumed Orophin had been chased while attempting to send this particular note. Torech read the ragged leaf.
Looking for a job? I could always use a minion.
His quill and ink were put to use once more and beneath those words, Torech wrote
I'll consider it.
It took him long to find Orophin in the trees, and Torech took extra time to gauge the distance he needed so that his arrow would not overshoot its mark. This time he waited, watching as the figure in the tree retrieved the arrow. It took Orophin little time to read and respond, and Torech squinted, able to barely make out the tall elf scurrying to the top of the tree once more to fire another arrow. Torech did not watch Orophin fire, for his attention was caught by another grey clad figure just a few branches below. An arrow hit the ground at his feet, and Torech pulled it from the ground, still watching the events in the tree. He unfolded the leaf and read it, keeping one eye on Orophin and Haldir in the distance.
Good man. Get back to me on that. Not now. Later. Speak to no one of this. Ta.
- - -
Up in the tree, Orophin watched as his older brother climbed swiftly into the branches. "Orophin, hold still so I can catch you," called Haldir from below. He had yet to get a good look at the elf shooting the arrows and sending him the love notes, but there were few others whom it could be.
Orophin pulled his hood down a bit more and readied himself for flight. He knew exactly which trees and in what order he needed to go to get back to the outpost before Haldir could catch him. Letting his brother think he had the upper hand before slapping it away was far too much fun, and Orophin waited until the last second before leaping to the next tree, and then the next, knowing the distance was too great for Haldir to make. A string of curses could be heard behind him as Orophin made his way back to his post. Haldir could keep the sack of smuggled goods for all he cared, and there were many future opportunities to procure Gondorian whiskey. He had had his fun, and would tell Rumil all about it, and was sure it would make a good enough story to keep Rumil busy drawing it while he described it. The Cloaked Stranger had never actually caught the Grey Archer, and Orophin was going to make sure it stayed that way.
