The light pitter-patter of an elfling not yet able to mask his steps sounded on the stairs encircling the Great Mallorn. Down he went, all the way to the ground, looking at his feet as he went. His feet hit the last step and stopped short of the grass below. That was due to the boots leading to the Elf, leading to poor Rumil stumbling backwards in fright and onto his rear end on the stair just above where he stood.
"There's-a-warg-under-my-bed!" Rumil pointed in the air at the flets.
"You saw it?" asked the Elf, who had been crouched down at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Rumil to make it to the bottom. He held out a hand to help the little one up.
"I heard it!" Rumil steadied himself on his feet, adding, "I was not about to look beneath my bed!"
Palentil smiled. "I do not think a warg could be under your bed, little master. There is little chance one would have come beyond the borders, and even slimmer is the possibility that one has climbed the tree. Have you ever seen a warg?"
Shaking his head, Rumil spoke before Palentil had a chance to explain what a warg looked like. "Haldir told me-"
"That they are ferocious and vicious and blood thirsty and eat small elflings that do not listen to their older brothers?" asked Palentil, raising a brow.
"More or less," said Rumil, cringing a bit. "There's only two things worse than a warg," he whispered, motioning that Palentil should come closer. The older Elf did, and Rumil said, "The only things worse than wargs are Balrogs and Lord Elrond."
Palentil gave a nod, and had to keep his lips pressed together to keep from laughing. Though Palentil knew the eldest of Celeborn's sons had a great amount of respect for Lord Elrond, he also knew of many unflattering stories about the Lord of Imladris that circulated through the branches of the golden woods. "Well, you need not fear one of those 'worse than wargs' things you mentioned," said Palentil.
"You mean Balrogs aren't that bad?"
Palentil couldn't help but grin. He really needed to find out exactly what was being said about Lord Elrond in the boughs of the Great Mallorn. "Let us think what might be under your bed, little master. I cannot believe there is a warg up yonder. Are you sure one of the hounds hasn't come to hide in your room?"
"No, they stay in Nana's room," said Rumil. Something caught his eye, and he looked skyward. Palentil knew without looking what was to happen, and held out his gloved hand, forming a fist.
"Perhaps you could tell me what the noise sounded like, and I might know what it is," suggested Palentil. "I know the calls of many an animal. If that it what it is, then I may be able to tell you what you heard." A large falcon came to rest with as much grace as the eldar upon the closed hand of the Elf. Palentil took a small treat from the pouch at his hip and held it for the bird, who gingerly took the morsel in her beak.
"Well, it was…can I pet her?" asked Rumil, eyeing the falcon. The bird ruffled her feathers after finishing her snack.
Palentil did not answer immediately, stroking his feathered friend's breast with the fingers of his opposite hand curved. The falcon nipped his knuckles playfully and made a little soft screech. Palentil was impressed that Rumil did not flinch. "I might see if she will perch on your arm, but I would not pet her. She may play with you and not realize that she could hurt you in doing so. Her claws and beak are fierce weapons."
"Is that why you do not carry weapons?" asked Rumil.
"I carry no weapons for I need no weapons," said Palentil. "She protects me better than any bow. She is my arrow, and my personal guard, as well as my friend." Rumil looked confused, so Palentil asked, "Do you know what I do, little master?"
"You…" Rumil paused. "You…" Rumil paused again. "Palentil, what do you do?"
Palentil moved to sit down on the second lowest step, and Rumil joined him. "I am Chief Protector of the Royal Houses of Laurelindórenan. That means if ever anything like a warg, were to come to the center of the city, I am charged with the safety of the elflings who live in the Great Mallorn."
"Including Haldir?" wondered Rumil, for sometimes he knew his eldest brother was still called 'elfling' by their parents.
"He is an old elfling, but an elfling all the same," nodded Palentil, taking out from his pouch a thick piece of leather he used to wrap dried meat or lembas in when he traveled. There was nothing in it now, and he unrolled it. "Hold out your arm," he instructed, and Rumil did so. Palentil placed the leather over Rumil's outstretched arm and whispered a few words to the falcon as he did so. "It is important you keep your arm still and do not move suddenly," he said, placing his hand next to Rumil's covered arm. Rumil nodded extremely slowly as the falcon stepped one foot and then the other onto Rumil's arm.
"But why do you not have weapons?" asked Rumil after some time.
"Vorino flies high and keeps watch of what happens in the distance as I stay here upon the ground in case anything happens that she cannot see. If something were to break through the defenses of the Galadhrim, we would know immediately, but would not stay to fight. She would fly into the tree to alert those above, and we would flee to Rivendell or Greenwood depending on the danger." Palentil stroked Vorino's chest once more, and the bird pecked at his hand.
"Do you not fear that she may fly away?" wondered Rumil.
Shaking his head, Palentil held out his arm to the bird, and Vorino hopped back onto his glove. "She has known me since her birth and will serve with me every night for all the nights she is able," he replied.
"Why?"
Palentil tilted his head to the side. "Because that is what we do." Vorino gave a shriek, but what exactly this meant, Rumil did not know, for he felt someone put a hand upon his shoulder and was surprised for a second time on the stairs.
"What news, Palentil?" asked the familiar voice.
"Four in the morn, all's well 'neath the mallorn," answered Palentil in a language foreign to Rumil. Dwarvish or Westron, but Rumil was not quite sure. He looked behind him, seeing who he knew he would.
"Halli, there's a warg under my bed!" he cried out, and would have thrown himself into his brother's arms, but remembered Palentil's warning of quick movements.
Haldir cocked one brow up and frowned. "There is no warg under your bed. I was just in your room, for Nana thought she heard someone up and about, and found nothing in, under, or behind your bed."
"But the noise it made! Halli, I swear, it had to be a warg. It was…it was like…" Rumil took a breath and let out a low nasally noise that was something like a cross between a growl and someone gasping for air.
Palentil stood and shook his head. "That is not the sound of a warg, little master, and very far from it indeed."
"Is it a…a Balrog then?" Rumil swallowed hard. "It could be a Balrog, if you didn't see it, it may just be hiding in the shadows! Halli!" whimpered Rumil. "It was right under me, that constant horrible sound."
Haldir bent down and picked up Rumil, holding his youngest brother tightly to him as he looked at Palentil apologetically, still attempting to figure out what the noise might be. "Elrond," he finally said, stroking Rumil's hair. "Lord Elrond is visiting, and he snores. I think he is in the room beneath yours, Rumil."
"Oh, that is the worst thing ever," mourned Rumil, and Haldir gave Palentil a confused look. Palentil merely shrugged.
"Come, you can sleep in my room," offered Haldir. "It is quiet there."
"Oh, can I?" Rumil was sitting up a little now so that he could better see Haldir despite being carried. "Can Orophin sleep in the room with us?"
"Orophin is asleep." When Haldir saw the pouting lip, he amended his words. "If Orophin is not asleep, we can ask him."
"Can I bring my own blanket? Yours are too rough."
Haldir sighed as he continued up the stairs. "We will gather it quickly."
"I should bring one of the hounds as well," suggested Rumil. "If in the case a warg is in the tree-"
"Orophin, blanket, bed," said Haldir sternly, and Rumil nodded, settling against Haldir. He knew that even if there was a warg in the tree, he was safe with Haldir watching him.
Little did he know how safe he truly was with the watcher below the tree.
