Tempting our Fate
Savage Spring
c.1066 TA- Greenwood
The winter months passed in peace. The woods were calm, and though the wood-elves had a time or two of running through the woods whenever the snowfall was particularly heavy, for the most part the woods were quiet and peaceful, even at the winter feast. It was hardly any wonder that they were, for he found that the effect winter had on the plants and animals was the same as that on the wood-elves. It was the forest that fed their people with such wild passions, and while the forest's wildness was tamed in the winter, theirs was as well.
As Spring got closer, however, everyone, at least in Thranduil's family, were watching him quite closely. Why, he still had no idea, but Legolas' words that he would have either married Lalaith or fled from her in the Spring still haunted him. He had questioned her multiple times, and had tried to find the answer in their bond, but she had hidden it well. "You will see, love. Or, at least you will feel," she added after thinking about it.
In Imladris she had seemed happier and more joyous in the spring, but never had she acted in any but her normal manner. He had even dared to question Thranduil about it, but the king had looked him in the eye once before laughing quite heartily. His only reply had been, "If she has not warned you, neither shall I."
"Legolas told me last year I would have either married her or fled from her."
Thranduil only laughed harder. "Well, I would not blame you if you wonder what you got yourself into," and that was all the king would say on the subject. Glorfindel found himself lost in this one, but as winter drew to a close, he noticed that the Silva were slowly perking up. Light filled their faces and wonder, unsoiled and innocent, dawned in their eyes, as if seeing their world for the first time. The palace slowly grew more full of laughter, and one by one songs would spring up once more.
Lalaith seemed to be no exception. During this transitional time her eyes began to light with the same wonder, and she was drawn outside more and more. Now he barely tried to get her to sleep at night, for she only ended up wrapped in a blanket and staring outside while sitting on their balcony. This continued until one day the morning dawned and everything was still and quiet.
The palace was completely silent, and when he woke and looked around, he thought perhaps something was wrong. Had everyone gone missing? Not even after large feasts had it been this quiet the following day. Servants usually bustled around, even while being careful not to wake the not-quite-so-sober elves that lay passed out on their beds. He unconsciously realized that Lalaith was missing from his side, and when he looked she was not sitting at the balcony either. He stood and dressed quickly, searching out her presence.
She was easy enough to find, as she sat crouched in the tallest tree in the garden. There was something distinctly intense in her gaze and the sun was still pale and had not yet streamed through the trees. Suddenly he realized she was not the only one. In the forest beyond the garden, he could see many others sitting in much the same position. A tingle of familiarity made him shudder, as Morgoth had attacked his own in a similar position. His hand unconsciously trailed to his knife, but suddenly a voice rose within the forest, breaking the silence.
It was singing, in a dialect he could not quite place. It sounded like the woodland tongue, but it did not sound quite right, nor could he understand much of it. All of the other elves, however, had turned to look in that direction. They watched intently, and Glorfindel felt the earth groan beneath him. He looked down wonderingly. Then sunlight poured through the trees, and as one the trees shook and resettled, and then there was a pause of complete silence.
Then there was a laugh, and he felt something strange in the air. He started to reach out to Lalaith with his fëa, but she did not even notice his silent inquiry. Then the Elves suddenly, almost as one, rushed forward and he watched as hundreds of elves, including his wife, sprang through the forest and then there was no silence at all. He stared and watched in shock, completely lost and more than a little perplexed. Suddenly, a hand reached out, and grabbed his arm.
Glorfindel started slightly but recognized Thranduil shortly after. Thranduil seemed amused by how startled he was, but when he spoke his eyes were more on the forest than on him. "Do you understand yet?"
"No. Is this normal?"
"Quite. At least in the Spring. It is why our patrols are made of completely Sindar warriors, save for Legolas." Thranduil said. "And sometimes I question the wisdom of sending him but he is a calm soul, and he can tune out the trees if he must."
Glorfindel watched as Elves spread throughout the forest, singing and laughing and calling to each other or the forest in strange sounds. "What are they doing?"
"Doing?" Thranduil questioned, cocking his head slightly. "I suppose they are doing exactly as you see."
"What is causing it?"
"Spring." Thranduil answered simply. He obviously saw the completely lost look on Glorfindel's face because he chuckled slightly. "You will understand soon enough. I do not think she will let you stay here through this whole time."
"Does it last all spring?"
"Sometimes, though usually once the flowers have all bloomed and the trees and animals have awakened they slowly calm down, one at a time."
"And you think I will understand?"
Thranduil smiled wryly and looked back at him. "I do not think you will be able to do anything but. Do not expect her to return for a little while yet."
"How long does she stay out?"
"Sometimes days at a time." Thranduil admitted. "But I do not think she will forget you. Last time a mere mention that the snow melted brought her home, quite quickly."
Glorfindel felt him leave and he looked back into the trees, intrigued and confused. However, he thought he was beginning to understand the cryptic comment from the year before.
He spent that night alone, sitting on the balcony, watching the elves pass through the woods in front of him. He saw animals too now doing the same, and he wondered which was more like the other in this moment, elf or animal. The morning dawned and the songs only continued and he still watched, patiently waiting for her to return. Thranduil occasionally joined him, usually bringing food. This week even the normal palace chef was off duty, and things in a palace came to a halt. In fact, he was almost sure he and Thranduil and Elenion and some of the Sindar ladies were the only ones left in the palace. All of the Sindar lords and Ortherion had taken the places of normal patrols that would be filled by the Silvan warriors, and the rest were keeping an eye on the borders for any sign of enemy.
Thranduil relied even more heavily during these months on the ravens that brought them news. He chose a select few of them and set them to the borders and even further away, hoping there was nothing coming near to them. Thranduil entered the room with Elenion following behind.
"Still watching?" Thranduil asked.
"Yes."
"And?"
"I still do not understand." Glorfindel admitted.
Thranduil held onto Elenion as he sat next to Glorfindel and though Elenion protested, kept him on his lap. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. Thranduil was not really one to keep a child so close to him in his own palace and kingdom. Thranduil cocked his head and glanced down at his youngest son. "You will, in time, and you will find out more than that."
"My people greet the dawn, especially on special days, so the singing before dawn arrived I understood, but this," Glorfindel trailed off and watched as more elves flew through the trees, "this - this is different."
"Different is true. But I stand by what I said." Thranduil said smiling at him.
Elenion's eyes were staring outside, and Glorfindel knew he at least heard the trees and Lalaith had sworn he had some measure of the power Thranduil and she did. "Does he feel it?" Glorfindel asked quietly.
Thranduil nodded silently, eyes flickering outside and then back to him. "But not like he would. He hears the trees, but I am blocking him from everything else."
"So that's why you keep him close?"
"Yes." Thranduil said, his arms shifting around Elenion as the child tried to escape again.
"Ada!"
Thranduil ignored the child's pleas. "Why not let him go to the garden?" Glorfindel asked in the common tongue so that Elenion would not understand.
Thranduil's lip twitched before he answered similarly. "Because he is still young. Even the Silva keep their young children inside at these times."
"Truly? Why?"
"Their minds could be overcome if not guarded carefully." Thranduil said even quieter. "But at the same time to keep them from it completely is just as dangerous."
"Else it overwhelm them later?"
Thranduil nodded again. "But most do not let their children outside their houses. Not until they are old enough to run."
"How old is that?"
"It differs on the strength of each fëa. Legolas was twenty. Lalaith fifteen. Elenion might be somewhere in between."
"So young?"
"The oldest I know of that was held back was thirty. Our people are made for this, and it would be cruel to keep them from it for so long."
Glorfindel considered this as he looked back outside, still not fully understanding. He then looked at Elenion, who seemed oblivious to the strange way the two had spoken. Instead he was watching the trees with his bright eyes, so much like his father's. They even looked just as intense. But why? Yes, he understood that Spring was a time when the trees reawaken. Did this move them to such passion? He himself had come to that conclusion, but what moved them to this much abandon?
He figured he would just have to take Thranduil's word for it that he would understand.
That evening near dusk Lalaith finally dropped out of the trees. She still looked much the same as before, but there was fire burning in her eyes. Glorfindel had moved to the garden, sensing that her presence was closer than before, and so when she came, they were only mere feet apart. She stared at him for a moment and then held out her hand. He cocked his head and then silently took it. Then she grinned and started leading him out into the forest. "I cannot run through trees like you." He protested.
"You do not have too." She said, her voice surprisingly calm for the fierceness he had seen in her eyes. She stopped when she felt his hesitance and looked at him. "Trust me."
Glorfindel did not know whether or not he would regret this, but he slowly nodded and a spark lit her eyes once more and still holding his hand she took off. Praying he had the endurance to follow her he adjusted his own speed and the trees started passing by them in a blur. Around them he caught sight of the glint of Elven eyes and animals too. Darkness was spreading, and when the sun had gone Lalaith paused in her running, and Glorfindel heard a new song starting, this one invoking what sounded to be Varda. He was surprised. He knew they respected Varda the most out of all the Valar, but usually they avoided such uses of their names.
The name he heard, however, sounded more archaic, and he still did not understand what they said entirely. Though he was beginning to put together that it was an old form of their own tongue, one only used at times like these. Then Lalaith began running again, and he stopped thinking much of it.
At one point they stopped again and he felt the ground shake. Now scared he started to draw her closer, but she shook her head, eyes peering into the woods. Then, a whole herd of deer pounded through the woods, running faster than he would have thought possible. Elves ran through the trees above them, calling to the deer in their song, and Glorfindel caught sight of more than a few running with the deer on the ground as well. "Are they hunting?"
"Hunting? No, we kill nothing during this time." Lalaith said and as soon as the herd passed she took off again, and he was now hopelessly lost and sincerely wondered whether she knew where she was going either. He caught snippets of songs and calls while they ran and suddenly Lalaith stopped, looking up with shining eyes and to his surprise started singing herself. Even more surprising was her use of the Silvan name for Manwë. He glanced at her wonderingly and then looked up, and saw two eagles, not Manwë's eagles, but eagles nonetheless. They were flying around each other, and Glorfindel realized they were mating with each other, or at least one was attempting to mate with the other.
However, as Lalaith's song reached them, the previously unwilling one changed its direction sharply and the two started falling together. Lalaith kept singing but she started running again, her song changing ever so slightly as they did, changing to what he thought was something to do with the trees. He heard both a form of Yavanna and Oromë's names, and suddenly he began to understand. His eyes lifted to the trees and he saw the Elves that sat in them, encouraging the trees and animals and forest as a whole with their words.
This was not the Silva running without care for no reason other than that the trees were awake. This was not something done without care. It was not reckless abandon. This was a primeval instinct that only they remembered. A ritual from the beginning, passed down because it was something they continued to care for. And with that, something clicked.
The Vanya had cared for light, and had abandoned everything they knew in Ennor to go to Aman, and none of them had come back for fear of leaving it. They had been crushed when the Two Trees were broken, because it meant a loss of what they loved most. The Noldor had pursued their own craft and had become wise in it for the same reason. The reason he could not speak to the forest like they could was because his kind had forgotten how in their love for light. The Noldo had forgotten in their pursuit of crafts and more natural forces than the forest. The Silva, however, had been speaking to the trees ever since they had separated from the rest of their kin.
Thranduil's power was not something gained but something never lost. His mother had remembered it and passed it on, as had he. And something deep down inside told him Lalaith would pass it on as well. Glorfindel himself realized that at one time, perhaps, the first Elves to walk the earth would have been able to do what each kindred now did separately, and for their love of what drew them most, buried everything else. He had not been given new powers when he had been purified, but rather had been reminded of what he had lost.
Lalaith's fëa tugged at him, jerking him out of his contemplation. He let her in, and suddenly he felt everything that she did. The burning of the need to sing, the need to nourish the forest, the need to encourage the animals to mate, the need to run. He heard every voice that she felt right now, and found that she had let the barriers in her mind completely down, soaking in the voices of everything around her, and he suddenly felt very unimportant, and very small.
They stopped in the middle of a small clearing, and Lalaith turned to look at him, and he then understood Legolas' comment perfectly. Her eyes were dancing with passion, innocent but with flames more dangerous than any he had seen before, and he had seen both dragon and Balroq alike. And likewise he realised that he might have run from her if he had misunderstood her, but his mind was clear of doubt now, and instead her overwhelming passion was enough to take over his clearer mind. Their hands burned where they touched, and Lalaith cocked her head at him.
He was amazed, though she was lost to the forest she still could control herself enough to see if he understood first. It did not take him long to decide. Instead he moved forward and pressed his lips to hers. After that, his mind was no longer his, but hers, and the forests as well. For that night, that one night he felt everything she did, every bird, every beast, every tree, and he felt the unifying element of Greenwood, and he realized it was never just Thranduil, Thranduil was representative only. It was the song of the forest, renewed and remembered by its caretakers.
And on that night something awoke within him that was long held dormant, something considered wild, feral, and much more dangerous, and he had never felt so alive.
