A Journey

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" asked Lord Tarquin rising from his seat at the council table. Lord Elrond's brown eyes widened and Lord Thranduil went very still. Gandalf had left Eastwood in the early hours of the morning.

A tall, brown haired elf inclined his head to Lord Tarquin and reiterated that Lady Ellyria was not in her room and her horse was missing from the stables. As was Captain Felinor and his horse.

Tarquin frowned in concern and dismissed the elf.

He was about to speak when there was a gentle, almost apologetic knock on the door.

"Come," he called without looking at the door.

Rhea entered bearing Ellyria's note.

"I found this on her table this morning, my lord," she said quietly, handing him the sealed note.

"Did she seem well when she retired last night?" asked Tarquin, looking down at the diminutive blonde elf.

"Yes, she seemed more at peace. I helped her with her dress and then left her for the evening. Her bed has not been slept in," explained Rhea quietly not meeting her lord's eyes.

"Thank you, Rhea," replied Tarquin, sitting down heavily.

The two elf lords waited in silence while Tarquin read the short note from his niece. Lord Thranduil watched him read with mild trepidation.

"She has gone, perhaps for good. She wishes the family well and is pleased that Eastwood is in capable hands. She did not say where she was going," he finished, setting the note down on the table and looking blankly ahead.

"I made sure to tell her that I wished her to stay. That she would always have a place here," he tried to speak but words failed him.

"From what you've told me, Ellyria has always had a restless spirit, my lord. I do not think she will stay away indefinitely," said Lord Elrond, rising. Thranduil followed suit silently.

Lord Tarquin rose as well.

"Do not be afraid for her. She is a very capable elf. And now, I think it is time I returned to Rivendell. I will stop in at Lorien and let Celeborn know of what we have discussed here," said Lord Elrond, pressing his hand to his chest and bowing to Lord Tarquin.

"Thank you for your guidance and loyalty, my lord Elrond," returned Lord Tarquin, inclining his head to the older elf.

Lord Elrond moved to leave and Lord Thranduil took his place.

"I'm afraid I must return as well. There is more activity in my woods than I would like. Do not hesitate to send word if something is amiss in your lands," requested Lord Thranduil, bowing in kind to Tarquin.

"Thank you, my lord. I will."

Elrond and Thranduil were nearly at the door when Tarquin turned and spoke.

"My lord Thranduil. Did she say anything to you yesterday? Anything that might explain why she left?"

Elrond gave Thranduil a hard look but Thranduil replied in the negative.

"No my lord. I barely spoke with her yesterday. She seemed pleased," was all the Elvenking would say.

Tarquin nodded and resumed his seat at the now empty table.

Thranduil followed Elrond out.

"Will you come to my chamber a moment, Thranduil?" asked Elrond, as the other elf started to turn down another hall back to his own room.

He stopped and looked back at Lord Elrond with a frown but the lord of Rivendell was already striding away from him, confident that he would follow. Thranduil sighed in irritation and walked after Lord Elrond's swirling brown robes.

Once inside his chamber, Lord Elrond shut the door and then rounded on Thranduil.

"What did you really say to her, Thranduil?" demanded Elrond.

"Are you implying that I lied to Lord Tarquin…" began Thranduil, tilting his head to one side and narrowing his cold blue eyes.

"I know you lied to him. You spoke to her yesterday and it must not have been pleasant. You were furious at dinner last night and your glare stayed in her direction the entire time she was in the room. Ellyria, I noticed, took care not to look in your direction once," accused Elrond.

"You noticed a great deal," muttered Thranduil sardonically.

"What did you say to her?" repeated Lord Elrond, unimpressed by Thranduil's attitude.

"I fail to see how this is any of your business, Elrond," snapped Thranduil coldly.

"I would not like to think you drove her away," Elrond retorted.

"What difference does it make why she left? She is gone," finished Thranduil, his eyes dropping to the ground and some of the anger leaving him at the realization of what that meant.

"I am only sorry to see you part on such terms. Return to your realm, my lord. I will not keep you where you do not wish to be," said Elrond, standing aside and allowing the other elf to walk past him.

"May your realm continue in peace," Thranduil said before closing the door behind him and trudging back to his chamber.

A few hours later, both elf lords had taken their leave of Eastwood and headed back to their respective realms.

The seasons changed. Then again. And again.

Middle Earth carried on towards a slightly darker and darker future though few could feel it.

"My lord, might I have a word with you in private?" asked Master Viridian of the King one day.

Thranduil glanced at the healer in surprise.

"Of course."

The two elves walked in silence to one of the King's chamber and the door was closed behind them.

"May I speak freely, lord Thranduil?" asked Viridian, coming to stand beside his king as they looked out at a distant waterfall.

"You do not need to ask, Viridian," said Thranduil quietly.

"When you returned from Eastwood last year, something in you had changed. I had been hoping that with time, you would return to yourself but you have not. You did not part from Lady Ellyria on good terms I take it?" suggested Viridian, watching the king.

Thranduil glanced at the other elf with a frown but he could not maintain it and turned back to the falls.

"No, I...no," was all Thranduil could say as he thought back to their argument.

"Can you not write to her if you still have things to say?" Viridian urged gently.

"She left Eastwood in the middle of the night and did not say where she was going. I have no way to reach her had I anything further to say," muttered Thranduil, turning away and walking back into the room.

"Then perhaps you may not see her again…" began Viridian but the king cut him off sharply.

"I do see her again Viridian. That is the trouble. I can see her clearly in a room I do not recognize kneeling at the bedside of some dying human boy and here also in my halls, I see her standing on a pathway of white rose petals," said Thranduil starting to pace about the room, struggling to understand the meaning of his visions.

"Perhaps the simpler question, my lord, is do you wish to see her again?"

"Even were I to wish that, she was furious with me the last time we spoke. And for good reason. I hurt her, Viridian," admitted the king, pausing in his pacing, staring down at the stone floor.

"And why?"

"She saw my actions to protect our people in a different light and had the temerity to call me a disappointment," meeting Viridian's surprised eyes.

The other elf's eyebrows jumped high on his forehead.

"You have had others killed for less," reminded the healer quietly.

"She was lashing out and I responded in kind, too blinded by my own ideas about duty to see her distress. I am not proud of how I acted," Thranduil confessed.

"She was here for half a heart beat of time, I should not feel this strongly about her perception of me," said Thranduil more to himself than to Viridian.

"Forgive me, my lord, but it sounds as if you are distressed because you care for her," suggested the healer carefully.

Thranduil met Viridian's eyes and then looked past him.

"I cannot betray my wife," whispered Thranduil sadly.

Viridian looked at the floor and drew in a breath. He went to his friend and met the taller elf's sad eyes.

"My lord, no one doubts that you loved your wife but she has been gone for over two thousand years. Would she wish you to spend the rest of your days grieving in solitude or would she wish for you to find peace with another?" asked Viridian softly, meeting the king's confused gaze.

"You have been in pain for so long, Thranduil, and it has hurt me to see it. But there was a time last year when the darkness around you seemed to lift. I wish only to see this brooding nature calmed and I cannot help you," finished the healer.

He bowed to the king and waited for him to continue speaking or send him away.

Thranduil inclined his head to Viridian and the master healer left without another word, the king looking after him as he went. He turned and stared out at the falling water, thinking of times past and wondering about the future.

Far away, on one of the upper rings of white Minas Tirith, Ellyria stood outside, gazing at the stars and remembering the room in the Elvenking's halls that had brought them to the ground.

"Ellyria," said a quiet voice behind her.

She smiled and turned back to face her friend.

"Good evening, Felinor. How was the hunt today?" asked the elf.

"Fruitless. I have not seen an orc now for two days," grumbled the warrior coming to stand beside her.

"Perhaps that is a good sign," suggested Ellyria, turning back to face the north.

They were silent for a time before Felinor spoke again.

"Ellyria, you know where he is. We can go back..." he started to say but she shook her head against the idea.

"You did not see his face that day, Felinor. I would be afraid for my life the next time I see him," she said quietly.

"And yet you wrap yourself in his cloak each night and come here to stare back in the direction of his woods," accused Felinor gently.

"I know it is a foolish feeling, Felinor and if I could cast it away I would. I have tried to forget but even after how we parted, I still prefer his company to any other elf I've ever met," replied Ellyria.

"Except for mine of course," prompted Felinor, feigning being wounded by her words.

Ellyria laughed.

"Yes, except for yours," she conceded, still smiling.

"May I suggest a compromise then?" asked Felinor, looking at her seriously again.

Ellyria met his eyes expectantly.

"Simply write to him and say whatever you need to unburden yourself."

"Felinor I cannot write what I feel in a letter to the King of Mirkwood. I feel a fool enough as it is," protested Ellyria, blushing at the very thought.

"I didn't mean that. You could start with an apology. You've told me many a time you've regretted what you said to him. You did not start that fight Ellyria, but you walked out on it," Felinor tried again.

Ellyria looked down, pained at the memory and pulled his cloak more tightly about her.

"You must do something. I cannot have you buried in your own world of grief and regret any longer. It is not you," said Felinor firmly, clasping her by the arms and turning her to face him.

Ellyria sighed.

"I'm sorry, Felinor; I have been poor company. I will write to him. It will be difficult but I'm sure it will help," Ellyria agreed, nodding her head.

"I will fetch some parchment and ink right away then," said Felinor letting go of her and hopping down off the stone ledge.

"Felinor, it's the middle of the night," she protested, watching him go.

He merely looked back at her and winked then vanished into the night.

Lord Thranduil pulled the stack of letters and scrolls toward him and took a long drink of wine. Two wine contracts, a bill of sale from merchants in lake town and a treatise from Lord Elrond held his attention for several hours. He thumbed through the remaining letters with little interest, his long fingers flicking absently across the seals. Thranduil made to rise when the last letter at the bottom of the pile caught his attention. The wax seal was bright red and stamped with the rising sun of Eastwood. Thranduil picked it up and turned it over his hands, his light blue eyes going wide in recognition at the elegant script his name was written in on the cover of the envelope.

"Ehlurien!" called the king, rising quickly from his chair, his grey robes whispering behind him.

"How did this letter come?" he asked the surprised elf who answered his summons.

"On the barge from lake town, my lord, with the rest of them. Is something wrong?" asked Ehlurien, bowing nervously.

"No, thank you," replied the king, dismissing him.

When the elf had gone, he broke the seal and opened the letter.

My Lord Thranduil,

I pray this letter finds you in peace and safety. I have spent many hours thinking on the last time we spoke and I am ashamed of what I said to you. I do not know the responsibilities you bear nor how heavy their burden. When faced with a small measure of such duty, your words rang too true: I fled. I do not know if I could have risen to such a task and did not possess the courage to find out. I appreciate the high esteem you once held me in and can only ask now for your forgiveness and forbearance, that it might cool any anger you may still feel. I will endeavor to do better in the hopes that, should our paths cross again, I will not fall short in your estimation. I count my time spent in your hall as some of the most peaceful moments of my life. Thank you for all you have done and may yet still do.

Should you wish to reply, letters sent to the King's Horse in Minas Tirith will reach me.

Ellyria

Thranduil sat down at his table and read the letter again. And again.

Some hours later, Ehlurien returned to his chamber and politely asked if the king wished to dine here tonight.

Thranduil looked up in surprise at the passage of time and nodded to the elf who swept quickly away again.

Whatever had shifted slightly in him while Ellyria was with him in his hall and he with her in Eastwood before their argument, shifted more. He thought on the meals they had shared, the parts of his kingdom he had shown to her, his high chamber of stars and the dance she had asked of him. What her hand had felt like in his when he had walked up the stairs with her and the gentle pressure of her on his arm as they danced.

The king was recalled to himself when food was set before him.

"Move those scrolls from the table, Ehlurien, before you leave," requested the king, still holding her letter.

Some food passed his lips though he could not later say what it was that he ate. His gaze never left her letter.

He retired to his chamber that night, with it tucked in his robe, lost in his thoughts.

"Do you feel that Felinor?" asked Ellyria, standing out in the afternoon sun on the highest level of Minas Tirith that they were allowed facing Mordor.

"I cannot say what it is but something is changing. It is an unsettling feeling," replied Felinor, watching the black mountains of Mordor and the mountains glared back.

"Perhaps we should not stay here," suggested Ellyria, wrapping her arms around herself and frowning.

"Where would you like to go next?" asked her fellow elf, not taking his eyes from the mountains.

"Perhaps Rohan or Bree. Somewhere where the sunlight is … warmer and the fields greener," Ellyria said. "Although…."

Felinor looked over at her.

"How many days has it been since you sent that letter on a cart headed to lake town?" asked Felinor though he already knew the answer.

"It has been nearly two weeks," replied Ellyria. "I do not know that he will reply at all. I may be beneath his notice now."

Felinor remained unconvinced.

"It is a long journey from here to there and then over to Mirkwood from Lake Town. He may have only received it a few days ago," reasoned Felinor, thinking about the amount of traveling it had taken them to reach this city.

"Still, I do not know that I can wait here many months in the hopes that he will write something back to me. I have no right to think that he will."

"Do I have time to pack my bag?" asked Felinor, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth.

"We will wait another day or two and then head out. Elin is getting restless too," said Ellyria with a smile thinking on her impatient white horse.

"Do you regret sending your letter?" asked Felinor turning away from Mordor to look at her.

"No. I feel a weight has been lifted even though I have no way of knowing if he has read it or cared to. It felt good to write the words. Perhaps if I see him again, I will be able to find the strength to say them aloud," Ellyria murmured, walking into the King's Horse where they were staying.

Two days and no reply later, Ellyria and Felinor set out in the general direction of Rohan, though still debating their destination as they rode.

They crossed into the realm of the horse lords and Ellyria made her decision.

"We have been to Rohan before, seen it's hall and king. We have not yet been to Hol Narieth on its far eastern outskirts," she suggested, looking over at Felinor as they rode.

"True, we have not. I am content with any city so long as we do not have to have lembas bread for another meal," replied Felinor.

Ellyria laughed.

"On to Hol Narieth then."

The two elves steered their horses in a northeast direction and picked up a little speed. In another day, they saw the rise of the city's hill on the horizon and made it to the great wooden gates just before night fall.

They met the guards at the gates just as they were closing for the night.

"Greetings! We were hoping to find shelter behind your walls tonight," called Felinor as they rode up to the gate.

The four guards looked the elves up and down.

"Do you have any business in the city?" asked one of them.

"No we are merely traveling through and wished to see it," replied Ellyria.

"Come in then. You can take the main road until you see a sign for the Green Hilltop Inn. You may stay there while you reside within our walls," instructed the tallest of the guards, turning and pointing up a main dirt road.

"Many thanks. Peace be with you," said Felinor, leading his horse forward, Ellyria close behind. The houses and structures they rode past were plain but sturdy. None were above two stories high save the Hall at the end of the main road.

"There it is," indicated Felinor, turning his horse toward a green sign that read in faded letters, Hilltop Inn.

They tied their horses outside near a drinking trough and stepped inside. A chubby, good humored man behind the counter greeted them but did little to hide his interest once he noticed they were elves.

"Pleased to have you here. There are two rooms at the top of the stairs that are free," he said handing over two keys.

"Thank you. We have two horses out front as well. Do you have stables we might take them to?" asked Ellyria taking the small iron keys from him.

"Jacob will see to them, won't you boy?" called the bartender over his shoulder.

A small boy of ten or twelve with a mess of brown curly hair darted out from behind the counter.

"Yes sir!" he called.

Felinor watched him go and waited until he saw their horses were at ease with the boy before heading upstairs.

"Rest well, Ellyria. We'll explore the city tomorrow," said Felinor opening the door to his small but cozy room.

"You as well, Felinor," said Ellyria, nodding to him.

Once inside, she set down her leather satchel and took off her midnight blue cloak, hanging it on a peg near the door. She turned down the lamp in the room and went to the small window. She could see little of the city from her vantage point but knew they were that much closer to the edge of the King's forest.

The next day, Lord Thranduil was about to get up from his throne when a guard came running up to him.

"My lord. A group of twelve dwarves has been spotted wandering in our woods," announced the elf, bowing low to his king.

"Dwarves? See that they are brought to me," demanded Thranduil with a frown.

An hour later, Legolas and Tauriel led in a group of ragged dwarves and brought them before the king.

Most were grumbling about food but there was one who remained silent, his fierce eyes fixed on the king. Thranduil narrowed his eyes.

"What brings you to my woods, Thorin Oakenshield?" asked Lord Thranduil. The group of dwarves fell silent, looking to their leader.

The dwarf named Thorin did not speak but continued to glare at the Elvenking.

"Perhaps a word in private will loosen your tongue. Take the others to the cells," said Thranduil, waving one hand lazily in the dwarves' direction and getting up.

When the others had gone, the two kings spoke and fell short of an agreement.