Use Well The Days by Grundy

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Chapter 1

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Maedhros looked thoughtfully at the not quite sulky boy in front of him.

Usually it was Elros who tried to get out of lessons, whether by simply not paying attention or by doing his assignments so badly in his haste to get to other, more interesting or exciting things, that Varilon had little choice but to report his dereliction to Maedhros or Makalaurë.

It was something of a surprise to be called on to deal with Elrond today. The boy was a scholar in the making, eagerly learning all they could teach him of history, languages, Beleriand and its plants and animals, not to mention a good deal of practical skills besides. In a time of peace, he would probably develop into a Master that Rumil would delight to work with.

Unfortunately, this was no time of peace. And that meant Elrond’s education, even at such a young age, had to be a bit more practically directed than Maedhros’ or his brothers’ had been.

Quite unexpectedly, Elrond had balked at the training that had recently begun on the logistics a prince or even a lord given command of others would be expected to know. Elros, for a wonder, did not object; he was cheerfully learning the weights, measures, distances and so on put in front of him, the bitter yield of years of hard experience on the part of the Noldor. He was also eager to show off his newfound knowledge, and had taken to spending time each afternoon in Handelon’s office, observing more advanced applications of the basics he was being set.

As a reward for his diligence, Elros had been given the privilege of accompanying those from the fortress going down to the fields beyond the village to help with the harvest. Kano had found that an odd reward, but it had pleased the boy no end. He had been chattering happily to both his older cousin and the steward as they set out.

Which left Maedhros to deal with Elrond.

“You do understand why we’re spending this hour here, rather than in the library?” he asked at last.

He knew perfectly well that Elrond shared Kano’s opinion on helping with the harvest – it was necessary that grain and legumes be harvested so they would eat through the winter, but it was hardly a treat – so he substituted an activity he knew the lad would have preferred.

Unlike Elros, Elrond didn’t pretend not to know, either.

“I’m in trouble because I think learning how many measures of wheat or rye or barley are necessary to feed however many elves for a week is silly when there’s so much else we could be learning,” he said.

It was prompt, polite, and no trace of anger in his tone – merely polite puzzlement that such a reasonable position could ever be thought a problem. Maedhros was equal parts proud and exasperated at his behavior. He had a feeling that had his mother only been there, she would have had a good laugh.

“Hardly silly,” he replied. “How do you suppose I know whether we’ve enough supplies to feed the fortress for the whole winter?”

“Isn’t that what Handelon is supposed to look after?” Elrond protested.

“Ah, so it’s not silly for Handelon to know?” Maedhros asked.

“He’s the steward, knowing that is his responsibility!” Elrond answered immediately.

“You are correct that it is part of his job to know that,” Maedhros agreed. “But I’d be a poor leader indeed if I didn’t know myself that I had inadequate supplies without needing to be told, don’t you think?”

That particular frown meant Elrond was considering what he’d said, but wasn’t necessarily in agreement yet.

“What’s more,” Maedhros added, “Consider what you’ve learned about the sieges and battles the elves of Beleriand have known. Do you believe that Círdan, Findaráto, or Findekano did not also know these things? And while I cannot say for certain, I would be very surprised to hear that Elu Thingol did not have a good grasp on what was needed to feed his kingdom. Come to that, how do you suppose your father knew how to stock his ship for his voyages?”

He realized at once from Elrond’s reaction that bringing Eärendil into it had been a mistake. It might have helped with Elros, who still adored all thing boats and nautical, but Elrond was increasingly indifferent if not outright antagonistic to any mention of the man who’d begotten him.

“Perhaps he didn’t,” Elrond said, not quite keeping all bitterness from his tone, despite a laudable attempt. “He hasn’t come back, has he? It’s been six years. Unless he’s found somewhere to take on more water, he and his men are long dead of thirst.”

Elrond didn’t say ‘I did pay attention for that part’ as Elros would have, but he didn’t need to. His tone and body language said it for him – for he also paid attention in the twins’ rhetoric and elocution lessons. But despite a promising start, he was not an adult yet, much less fully-trained. And his older cousins were his teachers in this area.

There were still cracks in his performance that let on more than he intended. Maedhros also did not much like the almost imperceptible pause that betrayed that the boy had to stop to think how long it had been since he had last seen his father.

“Perhaps he’s resupplying on some island where he built a secret stronghold,” Maedhros pointed out, doing his best to sound like he believed it. “Turukano’s whereabouts were a mystery for much longer, but when we finally saw him again, it was at the head of an army twenty thousand strong. Let us hope your father has a similar surprise for us! But in the meantime, you need to learn this. You are a prince of not just one people, but two.”

“I’m not old enough to be a proper prince,” Elrond protested. “You and Makalaurë are the ones in charge.”

“You may not be old enough now,” Maedhros chuckled. “Time will remedy that faster than you can believe. What do you think will happen when we’re not in charge any longer?”

He has pointed out often enough that it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that he or his brother could die, though he has not yet begun explaining to them that should that happen, Elros will be the King of the Noldor so far as Amon Ereb is concerned. Their position was still secure enough that he felt that could wait a bit lest the knowledge harm the boys. (He was less concerned that it would go to their heads than that it would cause panic, resentment, or other negative reactions.)

He also hasn’t explained to them yet that it’s not we could die but we will die. There was time enough for that later. He would like to leave them some semblance of childhood for as long as possible.

Elrond frowned.

“Elros will be in charge,” he said slowly. “Which will be fine, because he already knows this.”

“And who will tell him he’s wrong when you are caught in a jam, he hasn’t slept for three days, and has mis-figured because of it?”

Maedhros made sure to keep his voice matter of fact. Both boys were aware of the terrible times for all the elven realms following the last battle, and what some of the leaders had needed to do in those times.

“The steward?” Elrond ventured, but not as confidently as he’d spoken before.

“The steward,” Maedhros said thoughtfully. “You think it should be left to poor Handelon, or whoever comes after him, to be the one to point it out? Bearing in mind that might be somewhat embarrassing for your brother, given that it will be difficult for a steward to catch him privately as a brother could? Where do you see yourself in all this, young one?”

“In the healing tents, helping people.”

That was said firmly, though it was the first Maedhros had heard of such an ambition.

“Healing?” he repeated thoughtfully. “That’s a new task for a prince of the Noldor. We shall have to see what we can do to set you on the right path. You will certainly need more specialized knowledge of plants than we have given you thus far, for a start.”

There was a slight brightening in Elrond, along with clear relief that in this case new was not synonymous with improper as it sometimes was with Elros’ notions.

Maedhros was not concerned by what might well prove to be the boy’s chosen craft so long as Elrond applied himself to it. There were expectations of princes in both his father’s house and Nolofinwë’s, and he would not have anyone say the boy fell short.

But all the same…

“You will, however, find that having adequate nourishment for those in their care is as important to healers as it is to commanders of armies. Without sufficient food, your charges will not heal. In fact, quite the opposite.”

Elrond hesitated only a moment before he reached for the parchment with the assignment he’d neglected to do with an air of resignation.

“Did you have to learn all this as a boy?” he asked.

“Yes, although not quite so much of it,” Maedhros replied. “And what I learned was based only on what the Noldor knew from the Journey and were used to in Tirion. It proved inadequate for circumstances here in Beleriand. You are learning better.”

If that did not soothe the boy, at least it gave him something to think on.

“What is millet?” was the next question.

“It is a type of grain elves first encountered at Cuivienen,” Maedhros answered. “Though it grows well in many places, we have found it not best suited here, so you have not seen it.”

He anticipated the next question.

“Perhaps next growing season we can plant some, if we can trade for seed in time. Diversifying our crops would not be a bad idea in any case.”

That finally got a smile.

“Finish your assignment up, and we’ll go see what we can find in the library in the way of texts on pharmacology in Beleriand – and no, I will not explain what the word means until you are done.”

That got an Elrond-sized huff of exasperation, but the increased tempo of his pen meant it had worked.

There was silence broken only by the scratch of the pen for perhaps half an hour as the boy worked, and Maedhros took the opportunity to read through some reports, knowing Elrond would ask for assistance if he needed it. It was more the fact that he no longer heard the pen moving that got his attention than any noise.

He found Elrond frowning again, but this time the frown was the one that meant something did not make sense.

“Elrond? Have you gotten stuck on one of the questions you were set?” Maedhros asked, wondering why the boy had not spoken up were that the case.

“No,” Elrond said slowly. “Well, not exactly. Only Elros has been telling me about how he helps Handelon.”

“And?” Maedhros prompted.

“The figures he has been telling me don’t match even what should be a safe margin against waste, spoilage, or accident according to what Varilon taught us. I’ve checked my sums three times, and it’s still much more. Much much more. Did Varilon mix up the numbers?”

Elrond looked worried at the idea that he might have learned something incorrectly.

Maedhros suppressed a sigh. He hadn’t realized that Elros was in a position to see the full numbers, and supposed he should be thankful the other boy hadn’t noticed the discrepancy sooner.

“No, Elrond, Varilon gave you the correct numbers.”

“But…what do you mean to do with such a surplus?” Elrond asked, switching thoughts abruptly. “It’s too large to be an accident, and you said you know this as well as Handelon does.”

“Can’t slip anything past you, can I, young one?” Maedhros said, ruffling the boy’s hair and enjoying Elrond’s pleased grin at having been clever enough to spot something worth spotting. “Let’s see how many hints it takes you to figure it out.”

Elrond chewed his lip thoughtfully. This was a challenge both boys enjoyed, but while Elros tended to be right more often about practical, hands-on matters, Elrond was stronger at more abstract reasoning.

“You are intentionally creating a sizable surplus,” he began, glancing to Maedhros for the nod that meant he was correct so far. “But we are not trading with any new partners, or bringing in substantially more goods from trade, are we?”

He considered carefully.

“The harvests have not been bad the past few years. But we have more than enough to get us through the winter even if this year’s harvest failed, so it is not that you fear a bad harvest. We have enough people to continue planting the same amount of land, so it is not that you fear we will not be able to grow as much in future seasons…”

He trailed off.

“You do fear we will not be able to grow as much in future seasons,” he said in confusion. “But that is not the full reason?”

“Is that a question?” Maedhros asked. “I should already count one hint, for I may not know what you noticed me do that told you that you were not quite correct, but I know that you did.”

Elrond grinned again, pleased with himself.

“Ok, that was one hint. I need another, though – I am stuck.”

“It will be an unsettling hint, I fear,” Maedhros warned him. “Morgoth.”

The boy chewed on his lip some more.

“You fear Morgoth will do something that means we will not be able to grow as much future seasons,” he said.

“I know Morgoth will do something,” Maedhros corrected. “It is a question of when, not if.”

“Yes, he has always moved against the elves, so he will move against us also – that is it! You fear he will move against Amon Ereb, and when he does, we will need to have food stored.”

Maedhros was relieved to see Elrond didn’t look frightened at the prospect. He was also relieved that Elrond hadn’t come to the full conclusion he had, for he wasn’t sure he wanted to trust that knowledge to a pair of eleven year olds. They would not knowingly repeat it, but they might slip, or they might be tricked. Elros in particular loved to talk to all and sundry, and generally what one of the boys knew, the other did also.

“Correct. And only two hints – well done indeed, and for noticing in the first place.”

Elrond preened, but not nearly as much as Turukano would have at that age. Then again, he didn’t have nearly as much competition as poor Turvo had.

“Please remember, though, Elrond, that discretion is also important for princes,” Maedhros cautioned.

“I know,” Elrond nodded. “It isn’t needful or wise to tell all that you know. You didn’t tell me until I worked it out. And Handelon must know this already, but he didn’t tell Elros either, even though Elros is practically his apprentice these days.”

Maedhros nodded.

“Precisely. Now, as I can see from here that your assignment is complete, shall we go find what the library has for you about plants useful to healers?”

“Is that what pharmacology means?” Elrond asked excitedly, managing to rise from his seat just slowly enough to not be called leaping.

Maedhros smiled, and hoped that the talk about what the new word meant would steer Elrond’s thoughts in that direction rather than continuing to mull over what he had just reasoned out.

For there was a further step in his logic that the boy hadn’t hit on, one which Maedhros hoped to keep from all but a few for as long as possible. Only his brother and a handful of their most trusted retainers were aware. Knowing that Morgoth meant to move against them, the only sensible thing to do was not to be here by the time he did.

He was already laying the groundwork for the evacuation and destruction of Amon Ereb. It was not enough merely to move his people to safety, he had to make sure that he would not leave the Enemy a stronghold to use against them as he had Tol Sirion.

But he would not tell the boys that until it was time to leave, when he could present them with a newer, safer home. They deserved as much stability and assurance as was in his power to give.