Sacred Grove. June 6, SA 722
THRANDUIL gawked at the splendor of the night sky spread out before him. He inhaled. He had never seen a moonless sky this clear or this bright. It reminded him of his grandfather's stories of the days under the stars before the rise of the sun and the moon.
The beauty of the dark velvet sky dotted with thousands of gems shining in their rainbow hues struck his heart, filling his eyes with tears. Something about this place looked familiar, yet Thranduil was sure he had never been here.
The young Sinda swallowed the thick lump that formed in his throat. He felt small again, like a child, in front of the Western Garden in Menegroth when the night flowers bloomed and the silver rainbows danced under the singing of the falling waters. The music in this place was like the song of Lady Melian. It felt familiar and warm like his mother's embrace, like the laughter of his father.
Vigorous Spring.
Thranduil turned around where he stood when a voice whispered. It seemed to come from nowhere and yet the sound was everywhere like the ancient music that permeated this place. Many trees grew around him: tall and majestic beeches with their silver trunks and serrated green leaves; thick oak trees with their twisted trunks, maple trees with their five-pointed leaves, and many kinds of birches, firs, and pines. So many species of trees all stood together, singing the song of the forgotten times. A power resided here, an ancient power, its deep roots tangled together to weave enchantments that Thranduil could not penetrate.
Vigorous Spring, the voice beckoned.
"Who's there?"
The voice laughed, a sound sweet, joyful, and warm as it caressed his cheeks. A fragrant wind sped past, yanking the strands of his hair.
"Who do you think?" The young she-elf stepped out of the bushes. "Who were you expecting here other than me? I thought you didn't want to jump."
Pulling his brows together, Thranduil looked down at the petite young woman as she stood before him.
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" She, too, turned around where she stood. "You mean the owl?" She pointed to a tree next to her.
The owl, his owl from Amon Lanc, sat on a branch, his bright, round eyes amused as he teetered on his feet.
"What do you know?" Thranduil asked the owl, but the bird bobbed its head as if it did not know what he was asking. "Don't try to evade my question, Lumpy. You know what I am asking. And how did you get here all the way from home?"
"Could you not leave the poor owl alone? He helped us by bringing us here. You need not harass him."
"Harass him? I did no such thing."
The blasted bird flew over and settled on the girl's shoulder, rubbing its head onto her as if it needed to be consoled.
"You poor thing. Don't be frightened. He is a mean elf, but not all of us are like him." She cooed as she ran her hand gently through the bird's feathers. The owl looked up at Thranduil and winked, chuckling all the while.
"You obviously have no idea what you are talking about." Thranduil walked toward a group of ancient beech trees sprawled over the grassy ground dotted with nameless flowers. Under the starlight, the petals of the flowers glowed pale silver. The sky was clear but everything around them seemed hazy as if mists were about. And as soon as Thranduil thought it, tendrils of mists clung to his feet, wrapping around the trees, enfolding the branches into thick mists. One tree blended into another. Thranduil squinted to see through the haze and the mists. And as he did so, the flowers glowed brighter, blooming in a multitude of pale hues.
"What is this place?"
"I told you. It is a sacred place for our people." She gazed about her, her eyes alight with starlight.
The young elleth laughed out loud when the flowers burst into a ball of light and sailed across the air to circle about her, giggling in tiny voices.
"I heard there are a lot of wood sprites here, but I didn't know the ones here are not shy at all." The girl looked up at Thranduil with eyes full of joy.
Thranduil pushed away one of them when it came and tugged at his hair.
"They are usually friendly and mischievous, but I have not seen them so carefree in the presence of others." At least, not since the departure of Lady Melian, but he didn't say that. The girl would not know who Lady Melian was.
"Are there many places in Greenwood with wood sprites?"
The girl shook her head. "I have been told there were many at one time. But ever since the Great Enemy rose, and many men passed through our forest, the number dwindled. Then after that Great Shake…"
"Great Shake?"
"After that terrible war I learned about, the lands here changed also, I was told. The cliff you saw above, they say that formed when the whole land trembled and split."
"So the land here had suffered as well."
The smile on the girl's face dissolved as she looked up at Thranduil. "Is it true that a whole land mass sank after the great war?"
The sprites stopped giggling. They stopped circling the two of them, and retreated into the mist. And the owl took flight and disappeared after them, its silent movement barely dispersing the mist which thickened. The forest itself seem to disappear leaving only the pale world around them where the trees were just a bare memory. Only the rocks near the two elves and the green grass under their feet were visible.
"Where did everybody go?" The girl looked about her.
"This is a strange place."
"Oh, I forgot," the girl said as she stepped lightly onto a rock next to Thranduil, then reached for his arm.
"What are you doing?" Thranduil pulled his arm away.
"I am just trying to bind that wound on your shoulder. I found some herbs here that could help ease the pain and help with the mending. I see the blood on the torn tunic…" The young woman grabbed his arm, then she frowned. "I swear I saw the arrow go through here. And I see the blood around the fabric, but…"
Thranduil put his hand over the area where the arrow had ripped through. He stepped away from her. "I heal fast, so you need not attend to me."
"Excuse me for trying to be nice."
"No need for that."
"Good. Because you don't deserve it."
"I thought you said you were educated. Is that something an educated, well-mannered lady should say?"
"You said I need not be nice. Besides, you want a lady, be a gentleman. Be an ass and you get an ass."
"Does your mother know the kind of language you use?"
"Does your mother know the kind of language you are using?" The girl placed her hands over her waist.
"I don't have a mother."
The girl's eyes widened. "Well, that explains a lot. But I never knew one could be born without a mother. So, how were you born? Did a Dwarf spit you out? That would explain a lot of things."
"Are you crude or just ignorant? I do not know which. But enough of this nonsense. How do we get out of here?"
"Stop calling me ignorant!" The girl glared.
"Crude, then."
"Ugh!" The girl rolled her eyes. "I do not know why I let your petty comments bother me. You want to get out of this place, pick a path." She pointed to the faint form of forest around them. "My grandfather said the Sacred Grove is the center of Greenwood and a reflection of yourself. If you wish to be home, you only need a will."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, you wise, all-knowing Sinda, figure it out." She walked into the mist.
Fearing she will disappear as well, Thranduil kept close to the girl. The mist swirled about them and he could barely see the trees. Only the flowers glowed faintly through the silvery mist. The young maiden sang, her voice soft and joyful. How she could sing in a place where they could barely see, sacred or no, he could not fathom.
"Do you know the way out?"
"No."
"How is it that you seem unconcerned?"
She shrugged. "Because I am a Silvan."
"Meaning?"
"We Silvans know there is no evil in the Sacred Grove. It is a place we enter when we are ready to face ourselves."
"I thought you must be invited."
"You are invited when you know you are ready."
"That doesn't make sense."
The girl shrugged again, then resumed singing.
Thranduil exhaled. This was getting nowhere. Taking another long breath, he asked instead, "Why did you come after me when I told you specifically to go get help?"
"Because I knew even if I got to the hunters, by the time we returned, you wouldn't be there. We would be too late to help you."
"So, you thought of coming after me yourself? How did you plan to fight the men?"
"I didn't. I am not a warrior, but it seemed you are. I figured if I help you to escape, you will take care of the rest."
"With what? You did not bring my daggers. Did you expect me to fight empty-handed? Where are my daggers, anyhow?"
"Same place it was before. The men were moving out. I didn't want to risk getting your daggers and lose sight of you. Besides, if we escaped, there would have been no need to fight them."
"You naïve, little girl. Did you not think there will be conflict?"
"Well, excuse me for not thinking that far." The girl turned around, scowling like the owl. "I never had to deal with the Secondborns or anyone who tried to take people against their will."
"And yet you abducted me. Isn't that taking someone against one's will?"
The girl flushed red. "About that. Could you not tell anyone about it? I did save you. At least, don't mention Nell and Puck. Please?" She pulled at her lower lip before looking up at him with big, miserable eyes.
"Save me? I had it under control. I was leading them around the forest if you had not noticed. I would have worn them down, then get them to talk if you did not intervene."
"If I did not intervene, they would have taken you out of the forest to who knows where?"
"Trust me, little girl. I knew what I was doing."
"Oh, please forgive me, O wise Sinda, the mighty warrior beaten by mere three Silvan youths."
"I wasn't beaten." Thranduil bit down a growl.
"Just taken. Easily, too." She looked up at him, smug like a fox that stole a baby bird right under its mother's beak.
"You poisoned me."
"Don't be dramatic. It wasn't poison. Just some harmless herb that gives you dreams. I heard stories about fierce Sindarin warriors, but I suppose you are not one of them. I have been told they are not easily captured, poison or no."
"What do you know about Sindarin warriors?"
"Enough." The girl raised her chin. "I wonder what they will say if I were to tell them that three of us were more than enough for one of theirs?"
"Abduction alone was not enough? Extorting now? To compel me to negotiate?"
"What is there to negotiate? I don't know you and you don't know me."
"Exactly. I won't want it any other way."
"Good. You can go your way, and I will go mine. And don't worry. It is very unlikely that we will ever meet. Thank the stars. Goodbye!" With a jaunty wave, she disappeared into the mist.
"Good riddance!" Thranduil shouted after her, but she was gone, her joyful singing faded away amid the mist.
"Just my terrible luck. Ai! Elbereth, help me." Thranduil looked up at the sky. The stars alone were the only things that seemed real.
The owl hooted from somewhere amid the mist.
"She was the help? What kind of help was that? She wasn't help; she was a nuisance. And where are you? Come out and face me, you ball of feathers."
The bird chuckled, and Thranduil found he was in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to get out.
Outside the Black Lands. June 10, SA 722
GRIMWINE looked down at the sleeping minstrel. The Easterlings had bound the elf and placed him inside a box to be carried in a cart. The elf's breath was even and slow, but his face was not peaceful. The stoic, unreadable face the elf had kept when he was awake was gone, and in its place sorrow dug deep into the lines, marring the minstrel's otherwise perfect features.
"Minstrel?" Grimwine called, keeping his voice low so as not to alert others. He wondered whether he should try shaking the elf. He reached out, but stopped when he saw the gold bracelet glow on the elf's wrist. It seemed to call to him. It was so shiny, and so very precious. He reached out to trace his finger over its shiny surface.
"What are you doing here, Wino?"
Grimwine retracted his hand, then said without turning. "He helped me. If it wasn't for him, I would be dead." He turned to his brother. "You would be dead."
"We don't know why they want him. Kemik seems to think his master wishes to honor him."
"If that is so, why do they need to take him like this, bound and unconscious?"
"I don't know, and I don't care. That is not our job. We are not getting paid to know."
"But why does he want us? What are we to him? We don't even know who he is."
"Some rich bastard with a strange fascination for elves. More important to us, a man who can give us gold. That is all that matters to me, and so to you as well."
Shoddy was right. The elf meant nothing to him. The minstrel wasn't even one of them. Yet… the elf did not need to help them; help him. He could have left all of them to their gruesome fate with the spider.
"Kemik said he is a god, not a man."
"And you believe him? These Easterlings are a strange bunch. I won't place too much on what that Easterling said. Any miserable bastard with a full belly and enough gold to buy anyone could call himself a god these days."
Grimwine shivered. He knew Shoddy was right. His brother was always right, but what was this feeling in his gut that made him tremble like a fawn before a wolf with bared teeth?
"Come on. Kemik is waiting for us." Shoddy walked over and placed his hand on Grimwine's shoulder. "Don't worry, Wino. I won't let anyone harm you, okay, little brother?"
"I know."
No matter what happened, Grimwine knew that, that his brother will always be there for him, and he for his brother.