Grey Havens. March 1, SA 721

THRANDUIL laid out two items on top of his bed. He had wrapped both items carefully in silk, one, a gift for a friend and the other, a gift from one. He slid his hand over the one then the other. They were the last items. Everything else was packed and ready for departure early next morning.

Unlike his father who had left in a ship, Thranduil would ride through Eriador. It was a long trek through the great forest that lay between the Blue Mountains and the Misty Mountains, a near six months of travel.

The king provided an escort of a company of soldiers led by two Silmacils who will scout the path before them. It was not all for Thranduil's protection, however. It had a double duty to protect Celeborn and his retinue of Sindarin and Noldorin builders who planned to build a settlement west of the Misty Mountains. Once the fundamental structures of the city were established, Lady Galadriel planned to follow with the rest of the Sindar and Noldor who wanted to relocate there.

Both Thranduil's father and Celeborn had fought fiercely against the establishment of a Noldorin realm so near the newly established Sindarin realm ruled by Amdir, but neither Amdir nor Oropher had the strength to stop Gil-galad if he were to resort to military might although none was threatened.

In the end, they agreed that the new settlement would stay west of the Misty Mountains under the rule of Celeborn and Galadriel. Celebrimbor and his followers who had originally proposed the settlement did not like that, but neither did Thranduil's father, who feared having Noldorin neighbors so close to them. Amdir seemed satisfied with the agreement, however. And as Amdir was now the king, when Gil-galad agreed to the terms, the matter was settled before any naysayers could protest.

Thranduil looked around the room that he had used whenever he was at the Grey Havens. He didn't know when he would see it again.

He stepped out onto the deck which faced the Tower Hills. Beside the guard tower that gave the hills their name, another tower stood, this one built with white marble with silver veins. Sitting atop a green mound, it was the tallest structure in the Grey Havens now, a memorial Gil-galad built for his lost queen. In the fading sunlight, the tower glittered white standing slender and tall.

Thranduil whispered his farewell and turned to the blue waters of the Gulf of Lune which shimmered silver in the fading light of the twilight.

Since the past century when the first ship of the Numenoreans arrived, one could always find one or the other of their ships in the harbor of the Grey Havens. But this year, no ship came from Numenor. And although it was the Fifth Yen of the Second Age, no single-masted Elven ships that sailed to the Blessed Land could be seen. In fact, except for the first ship that sailed a year after the first yen, due to the lack of people who wanted to sail west, there had been no ship that left the gray harbor until Gilmagor. And with him went several unexpected people.

Like always, as it does to all his kin, the sea whispered, calling him home to the Elvenhome far away. And as always, Thranduil turned away. For now, the call of the forest and his father were louder, drowning out the sound of the sea. And his heart longed for his father and his people. He was glad to be returning to them. And yet, Thranduil knew also that he would miss this place. And if he was honest, it wasn't just the Grey Havens he would miss.

Fifth yeni wasn't that long of a time. But a lot of things happened here in Lindon. He wasn't the same person who first entered the White City that Autumn day. Thranduil turned back to the bed and the gift that lay there, the gift he had received unlooked for and unexpected.

Grey Havens. March 27, SA 576

THRANDUIL kicked a pebble over the golden sand. The sea was calm this morning without the usual swirling of mists. And the sky blushed rose-red as the sun stretched its rays onto the queen's white marble tower.

The sea air, crisp and biting despite the coming spring, disheveled Thranduil's golden locks with merciless mirth. The Sinda bit his lower lip. Perhaps he was too early. He knew Lord Gilmagor was an early riser. As if to confirm, the light inside the house flickered. Still, Thranduil hesitated. He had heard the news less than two weeks ago. He had ridden hard through the plains of Harlindon as he was with Glingaeron who commanded the king's force that defended the southeastern border. He had arrived at the Grey Havens late last night, but Elrond was waiting for him at the city gate.

Tired as he was from the travel, Thranduil had not been able to sleep. He rose as soon as there was light enough outside and had come here. But, Elrond was right; it was too early.

With a resigned sigh, Thranduil turned away when the door to the round stone structure opened. Instinctively, he stepped back into the shadow of a large stone statue where the buds of the seaflowers clung to its surface like a verdant garment.

What are you doing, stupid? Thranduil regretted the instant he hid, but it was already done. It would be strange to suddenly pop out from the shadows, wouldn't it?

Lord Gilmagor came out of the house, carrying three long poles over his shoulder. On one hand, he held a foldable wooden chair woven out of seagrass.

"Don't skulk, Oropherion. Come along, lad." Without stopping, the swordmaster pointed to the two woven chairs by the door. "Bring those chairs, will you? And those two baskets hanging above."

Grimacing, Thranduil stepped out of the shadow and picked up the chairs and the baskets, following after the elder Elf. He should have known better than to think that Gilmagor would be unaware of his presence outside his house.

Damn. He should have just walked up to the door and knocked as Elrond said to do. Thranduil sighed, but it was too late to do it over now.

Gilmagor's house, more a small lodge built with river rocks, sat on a small green mound situated above a steep cliff overlooking a deep valley where River Lune cut through jagged rocks as it opened to the wide sea that was Belegaer.

Limping as he was, the elder Elf nimbly went down a steep but well-worn path which cut into the side of the rocky cliff down to the waterside where fresh waters of the river rushed to meet the salty waters of the gulf. Gilmagor gestured to a spot where several outcropping of rocks shielded it from the relentless wind of the sea. Thranduil placed the chairs by the water's edge.

"Why do we have three seats, sir?"

"For your other half. He is obviously taking his time, but when he sees that we are not back yet, he will come looking for us."

"My other half? Do you mean Elrond, sir?"

"Of course, who else would it be?"

Gilmagor took one seat and gestured Thranduil to take the other and when he did, the elder Elf threw him one of the poles.

"Have you ever fished here, Oropherion?"

"No sir. Not in this spot. It is usually upstream at the river or further down at the sea."

The spot was secluded. And beside the difficulty of getting to the spot, the speed of the water coming down the valley and the rush of the waves that met it made the water churn and dangerous. Thranduil doubted there were many fish here.

"There is no place like here. If you are patient, you are in for a treat like no other place in the city."

"But can there be fish in this water? The speed of the water that passes through here, I doubt there are many fish."

"You think so? Then shall we make a bet to see who can catch the most? The one who loses will cook the fish for the other."

"Sir? I don't know if …"

"Well, now, Thranduil, I did not expect you to give up so easily," Gilmagor chuckled. "But then not everyone can fish."

"I can fish. But it would be unfair to compete…" Thranduil glanced at Gilmagor's arm and the leg which have never fully healed. And after the events at the north, Gilmagor had a harder time recovering according to Elrond.

"Compete against the old and crippled Elf?" Gilmagor finished for Thranduil when he would not say further.

"I didn't say that, sir."

"But that is what you meant." Without another word, Gilmagor threw in his line. It hardly settled in the water when he snatched it back. A fish the size of a grown man's forearm was pulled in. It had a silver scale with pale gold fins.

"No, sir. I meant, it would not be fair to you as winning would not be a reward. You do not want to eat what I cook. I am not known for my cooking."

Gilmagor laughed. "Then, it is true what Elrond had said about your cooking?"

"Well, Elrond does not exaggerate."

"I suppose he does not. That is a pity because you will be cooking tonight."

Thranduil did not like the certainty in Gilmagor's voice. "Do not assume, sir. Just because you are not in your top form, do not think I will go easy on you. I am no Elrond, after all."

"Oh, I won't dream of it. Just be warned, Oropherion. The fish here are different from the ones upstream and those in the sea. They are used to the strong currents of the various river streams and the waves from the ocean. The hardship of their environment has made them unusually strong and fast. You wouldn't find the fish in this water as easy as the ones found in other parts of the river or the sea."

The sun rose up, golden beams warm and glowing, adding shimmer to the dancing waters before them.

The combined waters of the river and the sea danced and splashed against the dark rocks beneath them. And the wind was their music, a symphony of sounds that clamored then calmed into a soft solo sound of a flute.

Thranduil fidgeted next to Gilmagor as the winds died down into a soft hum.

"Why are you leaving, sir?" He blurted out before he could bite his tongue. He was never good at subtlety.

"Ah, finally. Wondered when you will get to it."

"That is not an answer, my lord."

"Knowing when to let things go is as important as knowing when to start."

Thranduil prevented himself from rolling his eyes. "Do you not tire of teaching?"

"Why, no. Teaching is the most noble profession, I dare say. It is a lot like cooking."

"Neither of which I like." Or has a talent in.

"Most of the time when we don't like something, it is because either we think we are bad at it or we don't care for it. Which are you?"

"Both."

"Not care for it then. If in eight centuries you are not good at something, then you have not really tried. But, no matter, not everyone could be good at all things."

"Except Elrond," Thranduil would never admit it in front of his friend, but Elrond wasn't here.

"There are always exceptions."

They looked at each other and grinned.

"He is a monster."

"I agree with you, there, Oropherion. I suppose he is well seasoned, if you understand me. All the ingredients that make our kin unique have blended well in him with all the qualities of the Secondborn adding a unique flavor. And don't forget that drop of Ainur to add a goodly glaze. Then, of course, enough fire for that perfect sear."

Gilmagor was rarely this effusive with praise, and Thranduil could not help himself. "But, he is not to everyone's taste."

"No. Just to most of them."

The soft flute of the wind stopped altogether. The waters looked more green than it actually was as Thranduil tried to suppress the envy lurking in his heart.

"Elrond is special," Gilmagor said, his eyes on the water, "but so is he who is recognized by someone of his caliber." Gilmagor turned, then surprised Thranduil by placing his hand on Thranduil's shoulder. "Thank you, Thranduil Oropherion. I am glad to have this moment to be able to thank you before I leave."

For a moment, Thranduil was too stunned to say anything. He was here to thank Gilmagor for all that the swordmaster had done for him. But, he had not even a chance to speak of it. So Gilmagor thanking him was the last thing he expected.

"I…I don't think I know what you are thanking me for. If anything, I owe you thanks."

Gilmagor's eyebrows went up.

"For…teaching me, for being more fair and generous to me than I gave you credit."

"Well, now, Thranduil. I certainly did not expect this from you."

"I am only giving credit where it is due, one…that is perhaps long in coming. I learned much from you, sir. I cannot deny that."

"And I owe you thanks for opening my eyes, and for giving me hope."

"Hope, sir?"

Gilmagor looked across the water at something far away Thranduil could not see.

"My people have a tendency to believe that knowledge is wisdom. We seek that knowledge through books and through instructions. Such things may give us knowledge, but it is the experiences that give us understanding. It is not until you have both that you truly know and even then, it is not wisdom. Wisdom is not given. It is earned." Gilmagor let out a sigh. "It was only after my own devastating losses, decade after decade, that I truly came to understand the depth of loss that he suffered. And the more I understood, more despair I felt. How could we assuage the anger and the grief when so much damage has been done? I questioned whether there was hope or even Eru. But I met you and I see hope, that maybe there is a chance, despite all the bad blood between us, that our two kin could live together and stand together at need."

Thranduil wondered who was 'he' that Gilmagor meant. It didn't sound like the commander was referring to him.

"The king, you and Elrond, you three are the combined effort of us, the Noldor and the Sindar. And I see great potential. I leave these shores with a full heart because I know this land is in good hands."

"Thank you for including me in there, sir, but that seems like an exaggeration."

As proud as he was of his own lineage, Thranduil knew he was not in the same rank as Gil-galad and Elrond. The first was the king and the latter was the king's heir. But he was nobody. His pride would not allow him to take what he knew was not his due. "Besides, both Elrond and Gil-galad are Noldor. I wouldn't say my people had any part in them. Well, perhaps in the creation of Elrond." Thranduil chuckled.

"You may think so, but the king was raised by the Sindar and that has made quite a difference. If you ever give him a chance, you will find that you have a lot in common with the king than you think you do. And Elrond may have our knowledge and talents, but he has much of Sindar's temperament."

And our stubbornness and temper. Thranduil's lips crept up.

Feeling a presence, Thranduil looked up behind him to find Elrond coming down the winding path through the jagged rocks of the cliffside.

The water from the sea rushed in at that moment and crashed onto the fresh waters from the mountains. The fish, hundreds of them, jumped out of the water, their silver mail and the gold fins catching the glimmer of the rising sun before they somersaulted into the water.

"Now's the time to show me your skill," Gilmagor roared as he shot up as his line pulled.

Thranduil jerked forward as his fishing line yanked him into the water. The fish were everywhere, flying around as if they had wings. They slapped him on his face and head.

"Thranduil!" Elrond jumped into the water and grabbed Thranduil as the Sinda was dragged into the churning currents.

Everywhere was water. Thranduil shook his head trying to keep his eyes open but the pull on the pole in his hands was relentless and the splashes of the water and the uncountable number of fish slapping him had blinded him. Elrond grabbed the pole, adding his strength to hurl whatever was attached to the end of Thranduil's rod.

Something snapped. Thranduil fell backward, on top of Elrond, into the water. The roar of the water subsided and Thranduil pushed away the wet hair from his face to find he was on top of Elrond who tried to push him and the water off his face.

Gilmagor roared with laughter as Thranduil dragged Elrond out of the water.

"Are you two among the best of Lindon's warriors? What have you learned all these years, lads? What use is a skill if you do not use it?"

He threw the last pole to Elrond. "If you don't catch at least one, no dinner for you." Then, he clucked his tongue. "Tut, tut, Thranduil. Never underestimate your environment." He tapped his basket which was full of fish. "And never underestimate your opponent no matter how incapacitated he seems to you."

Thranduil glanced at Elrond, and they nodded to each other. They were not done yet.

Gilmagor pointed to another rush of waves coming at them. "Time to redeem yourselves, lads!"

Dripping wet from head to feet, Elrond and Thranduil followed after Gilmagor. Thranduil noted wryly that not a drop of water fell from the swordmaster although he limped and the basket he carried dangling on the end of his fishing rod was full of fish.

In front of Gilmagor's cottage, several guards were on their horses. And the king was getting back on his horse when one of the guards spotted the three of them and called out a salutation.

"There you are," Gil-galad said, stepping down from his horse. "I had some time to spare, and I thought to share a meal with you, but I see that you have a guest." The king nodded toward Thranduil as the Sinda gave the king the barest of a bow.

Thranduil did not miss that only he was referred to as a guest. Elrond glanced at Thranduil.

Gilmagor's eyes grazed Thranduil briefly. "Perhaps we have returned too late for you to spare us the time, Your Majesty," Gilmagor said.

There was that awkward moment of silence until the king turned away. "Yes, I do have another meeting coming up."

Thranduil could feel Elrond looking at him with that look he knew so well. And he was reminded of what Gilmagor had said at the fishing spot.

"I am not best at cooking, but I do make a decent grilled fish," Thranduil said. "If your majesty can honor us with your presence…" Thranduil cleared his throat when Gil-galad's eyes widened. "But, of course, I understand you are busy."

"I love grilled fish," Gil-galad said with a bright smile. "And the next meeting is not for another two hours."

"Well, then, what are we all standing around here for?" Gilmagor laughed as he pushed open his door.

"I see that you went fishing, but…" Gil-galad turned away from the Elder Elf and looked at Elrond and Thranduil. "You two went swimming?"

Yen (Quenya, long or great year)—Elven unit of time. 1 Yen equals 144 solar years. The plural form is yeni. Fifth yeni = Year 720 (144x5)

A/N: The tallest tower among the three white towers on Emyn Beraid (Tower Hills) is known as Elostirion (Sindarin, Star Fort). In the Silmarillion, it is believed that those three towers were built by Gil-galad as a gift for his friend Elendil. I am deviating from that only slightly (or none at all) because whether all three were built for Elendil is not certain. By the time the first Numenorean ships came to the Grey Havens, they refer to the location as Tower Hills so a tower already existed there (otherwise, the name would not make sense). I also do not see why all three were for one same purpose. So, I have a guard tower built there at the beginning of the Second Age to give the location its name and purpose (defense), and added the tallest tower dedicated to Silwen, Gil-galad's queen (if he would build a tower for a friend, why wouldn't he for his lost love?). Later in the Second Age, he added a third tower, dedicated to his friend Elendil.