Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, or any of the associated characters, and Lamiel owns the fic that prompted this one, which I reference with their permission.

Summary: Can be read as a stand-alone, but is a follow-up to Lamiel's hysterical fic 'An Elk', which is well worth a read either way, and will help make sense of some of the references. Thranduil's snarkily irate return 'gift' to his Lothlorien cousin.


A SPIDER

Celeborn the Wise, Lord of Lothlorien, Prince of Doriath and Husband of Galadriel, knew something was wrong well before the panicked messenger even came into view.

Admittedly, the screaming that echoed all the way from the northern border to Caras Galadhon was something of a clue, as was the all-too-rare expression of bemusement on his wife's fair face. "My love, when you said that you were sending King Thranduil a 'gift', what exactly did you send?"

Feeling insulted that the Elvenking did not feel that Celeborn was 'Wood-Elf' enough to represent all of the race at the White Council, even though Mirkwood and Lothlorien were two separate realms in vastly dissimilar situations as far as the encroaching Darkness was concerned, Celeborn had sent Thranduil a great Elk as a steed to ride into battle, with a note saying that a woodland king should have an appropriately woodland mount to ride.

The fact that an elk's natural gait was a walk, its charges short-distance and short-lived, made its rider look frankly ridiculous, was totally unsuited for nearly every kind of weapon, and that it would be difficult to find any potential mount less suited for battle (actually, Rhosgobel rabbits might even be more effective) was neither here nor there.

In hindsight, perhaps his choice of gift was in admittedly poor taste, and perhaps Thranduil had a point in his indignation at the dismissal and exclusion of his kingdom, but Celeborn was hardly about to send a second note apologising and offering to take the animal back.

Galadriel saw the humour, as he explained what happened in between issuing orders to the Captain of the Guard, but her eyes held a hint of disapproval. Born and raised a Noldo, she tended to take matters, even ones intended as a snide joke, a bit too seriously at times, while those who had not travelled to Valinor were a little more laid-back in their sense of humour.

The screaming was closer now, with elves actually swarming up trees to their talans like squirrels, rather than ascending gracefully via ladder or stairs, as was their wont.

The reason quickly came into view. A giant spider, spawn of Ungoliant, scurried over the forest floor, two elves on its back, which explained why the warriors who guarded Lothlorien's borders had been so reluctant to shoot. They had clearly at least tried, however, as evidenced by a few arrows sticking out of the armor that covered the head and the sides of the spider's body.

Celeborn said something very impolite, which he almost certainly wouldn't have repeated in front of company (Galadriel was his wife and, with five brothers, had heard worse), trying to decide how best to rid Lothlorien of the beast, without sacrificing his kinsmen.


It turned out to be un-necessary, as the two elves turned out not to be held captive, but to be riding the Fell creature, complete with reins! Had proximity to Dol Guldur finally sent some of the Mirkwood Elves insane, that they would attempt to train the spawn of Ungoliant? What would be next; training the wretched things to hiss and click accompaniment to the Númenoriad?

And if it was his Royal cousin's idea of a return gift, then simply killing it had the high potential to turn into a diplomatic nightmare far worse than the arguments about Mirkwood lacking a representative at the White Council.

Which was almost certainly what the son of Oropher and ruler of Mirkwood had in mind, if the uniquely Thranduilion smirks that the messengers were making very minimal effort to hide were anything to go by.

Deciding not to send any retaliatory gift to the elf who had managed to keep his realm more or less under Elven control, despite having the Necromancer and the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain as his nearest neighbours and lacking a Ring of Power, Celeborn mentally called the Elvenking something that drew an almost shocked look from the Lady of the Golden Wood, who was fortunately standing behind and out of sight of the messenger princes, and opened the missive from Thranduil that had accompanied the 'gift'.

To my dear cousin, Lord Celeborn the Wise, Prince of Doriath and Lord of Lothlorien, I send greetings.

It has been many centuries since we dwelled as brothers-in-arms in Doriath, on the banks of the Sirion. Yet no length of time could cause me to forget the friendship I hold toward my Silvan cousin, who has evidently lived so long in his peaceful realm that he seems to have forgotten what war steeds are, or why we ride them. Please accept this gift as a token of gratitude for the mount you have sent me.

Yours in Friendship,

Thranduil Oropherion
Elvenking of the Woodland Realm

Celeborn supposed that he may have deserved that.

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A/N: Just to be clear, I am not attempting to bash any of the characters, though I do think it unfair that Mirkwood is not only the only Elven realm without a ring of power or some kind of mystical protection (Doriath had the girdle of Melian), but also the only one lacking a presence on the White Council.

The Númenoriad is made up, and can be credited to Jastaelf.

Feedback on how well I did, especially as an authorized spin-off of another author's work, would be much appreciated. Flames will be ineffectually tossed at Smaug, who will be happy to explain the disadvantages of empty remarks to make yourself feel clever.

Thanks,

Nat