Amon-thon. June 15, SA 722
THRANDUIL led Tinuiel around the dance floor when he caught sight of Durion who had returned to the grove and stood next to Aron. The warrior's brow lifted as his face brightened. Waving, Durion grabbed his wife and headed toward them. Thranduil guided Tinuiel away from the couple.
If possible, he wanted to disappear into the crowd. But that was hard to do when he stood out like an overgrown bush. He was shoulder taller than many of the dancers at the grove and at least a head taller than most of them. But it wasn't just his height. Even in Lindon, among the Noldor who were nearly as tall as he was, Thranduil stood out. He was that one tree that, no matter how he tried, just didn't quite fit with others.
"People are looking at us." Tinuiel glanced around her when people stepped aside for them even as Thranduil tried to bury themselves among the crowd.
"Nothing new."
"So you are used to the attention, huh?"
"I wish." Thranduil knew he was different, that he stood out whether he wanted to or not. He should be used to it, but he never could.
"Is this why you are so stiff? So tense." The girl mumbled, not too quietly. "Mind as dance with a rock."
"I'll admit. I am not much of a dancer."
"Then why are you? You don't seem like someone who would do anything you don't want to do."
"I am no different from anyone else. There are things we all must do even when we don't want to."
At the edge of the grove, under the eaves of the trees, there were several Sindar grouped together. Among them, Lord Seledhel and Lord Istuion were watching them. Thranduil bit down a groan.
"So, who are you exactly?" Tinuiel looked up, tilting her head.
"What do you mean?"
"You know Lord Istuion well, that is clear. He comes to Amon-thon rarely. When he is here, he doesn't speak to others much. But he spoke to you as if he had known you all his life."
"There are only a handful of us. We all know each other."
"He said your father and he are like siblings."
"All of us are like that."
The girl squinted her eyes, deepening the frown.
"I am going to find out who you are eventually, so mind as tell me now."
"What does it matter? And why do you want to know?"
"You know who I am, so it is right that you tell me who you are. Fair is fair, you know."
"Unfortunately, fair is not fair, little lady. In the wide world out there, not everything is flowers and trees."
"You sound just like Lord Istuion." Tinuiel rolled her eyes. "You people think too much. No wonder you came here. My grandfather said you find what you look for. If you look for joy, you find joy. If you look for problems, then problems are what you find. Besides, why would I care about the wide world? I never plan to leave this forest."
"Do you not want to see what other parts of the world are like?"
"No."
"Have you never wondered what is on the other side of the mountain?" Thranduil remembered Durion mentioning that the Silvan Elflings were adventurous, that they roamed far and wide in the forest.
"I was born and raised here." Tinuiel picked up her chin, her face beaming. "This forest has everything I need. Why would I want to leave? Everyone I love and care about who loves me is here. Besides, all I heard about the outside world are bad things."
"There certainly are many bad things out in the world, but there are also many good things to learn and see. Would it not be sad for a tadpole to grow into a frog knowing nothing about the beauty of a river on the other side of the mountain?"
"Really? I have never seen a frog jump out of a pond to look except to watch out for predators. Bigger pond only means bigger predators."
"Would you not risk it for a glimpse of a beauty you have never seen?"
"No. There are plenty of beautiful things in our forest. This little frog is quite happy with her little pond, thank you."
They skipped and hopped to the music.
"I thought Lord Istuion taught you."
He expected little from other Silvans, but he had not expected a grandchild of Lord Istuion to be so dismissive of knowledge. While at Sirion, Lord Istuion was one of the head instructors for Thranduil and Elwing on various lore.
"He did, but he talks a lot about things that I don't care about. Nothing useful either. And he is not done. That's why he wants me at Dorwinion."
"He is taking you to his vineyard?"
"He is trying. My parents already left with my grandmother."
"You call your mother's mother, grandmother, but won't call Lord Istuion, your grandfather. Why?"
"My grandmother is a Silvan. Like me."
"Part of you is a Sinda, whether you like it or not."
"I am a wood elf. This forest is my home and always will be."
"You know that one does not exclude the other."
Just as they finished a turn around the grove, Thranduil felt heat on the back of his head. He turned and locked eyes with a pair of eyes glaring at him.
"So, did he find his beloved?" Thranduil tilted his head toward Puck.
The young woman's eyes wavered as she glanced at her friend.
"Poor Puck. He had plans to ask for Tathari's hands at the end of the Midsummer Festival." Tinuiel let out a long sigh. "Your minstrel took Tathari as his mate. By the time Puck caught up to them, they had already wed. Her parents are upset as well, but what can anyone do?"
"That is unfortunate."
Thranduil knew that once a marital bond was forged, no amount of disagreement from anyone, even the parties themselves, could dissolve the connection. The eternal finality of the marital bond was one unshakable truth all Elves accepted. It was the reason betrothals were recommended to last for a year or more, many lasting centuries.
"Puck blames you, I fear."
"What? It was I who reminded him he had the wrong person. I was the innocent victim, if I remember correctly."
"I know you are not at fault. But reason is not something he is open to now." Tinuiel's shoulders sagged. "But, please, understand. Puck loved her very much. Loves her still."
Something pricked Thranduil's memory.
"Puck and your other friend mentioned leaving me with others. You were talking about leaving me with the humans, weren't you?"
The girl's face paled as she looked about them. She lowered her voice. "I told you, it was just a talk. You promised you would not bring up that incident again."
"About the incident, yes. But, I am asking you about Puck. Is he friends with men?"
"I know of no elf who is a friend to the humans."
"But what did he mean when he said to give me to them?"
"I told you; it was just to scare you. Nothing more." Glancing away, Tinuiel stepped away from him.
Thranduil wondered if he should push her. He knew she was holding something back, but he could not tell whether it was because she feared the abduction coming to light or something else. He wanted to believe that she was innocent, that her friends were not involved in the spying. But if she and her companions would abduct someone to get what they wanted, spying couldn't be so far out of their reach. The ones you least expected caught you off guard, and he would not have that. But for Lord Istuion's sake, Thranduil hoped she was not involved with the dealings with Men.
"My feet hurt. Can we stop now? There are other ellyth who would love to dance with you. Look how they are ogling you and glaring at me?"
"No. It has to be you."
"Why? How about her?" Tinuiel gestured toward the tree where Lord Istuion stood. "She's pretty. I know her, the one standing near Lord Istuion. The one with the white hair. That is Lady Faniel. I met her a few years ago."
Thranduil shook his head. "Especially not Lady Faniel."
She was Lord Seledhel's niece and the one many elders hoped Thranduil would choose as his bride. His father had said nothing about marriage to him, but it did not escape Thranduil's notice that whenever they dined in public with others at Amon Lanc where seatings were prearranged, he was seated next to one unmarried elleth or other. Too often, it was Lady Faniel.
Ever since he came to Greenwood, Thranduil had been careful not to encourage any of the elder's expectations, especially those of the ladies.
"Why? What is wrong with Lady Faniel?"
"Nothing is wrong with her. It's… complicated."
"It's just a dance."
"With you, it is. But anything I do with them will be taken as more."
Tinuiel frowned.
"I don't understand. Why are they different from me?"
"You are safe. They would know as well as I do that you are too young, too ill-mannered, and too ignorant of the world to pique my interest."
Tinuiel stopped dancing and narrowed her eyes, which blazed with heat.
"Don't be upset. I wasn't trying to insult you. Just stating the fact."
"Oh, I am not upset." She smiled sweetly. "I just want to go say hello to Lord Istuion. He was looking for me, remember?"
"Now?"
"Just a quick hello." She grabbed his hand and led him out of the grove to where Lord Istuion stood talking to Lord Seledhel, standing beside his niece.
"Lord Istuion, I heard you were looking for me," Tinuiel curtsied to her grandfather. Then, she turned to Lord Seledhel's niece.
"Lady Faniel, good to see you again. You must dance with my partner. He has been talking about you nonstop all evening. He is yearning to dance with you. Please don't disappoint him."
"What?" Thranduil glared at the young Silvan, but the little orc turned to Lord Istuion.
"Will you dance with me, my lord?" Tinuiel hooked her arms around Lord Istuion before Thranduil could say or do anything.
The Sindarin lord laughed out loud, his eyes shining brightly, then excused himself to take his granddaughter to the grove.
"My lord?" Lady Faniel looked up at Thranduil, perfectly poised except for the deep blush tinting her skin. Lord Seledhel beamed behind his niece.
Thranduil clenched his back teeth and swallowed the curse about to spew out of him. He could feel the expectant eyes of the other Sindar around him. And even if he cared not about upsetting Lord Seledhel, his father's chief advisor, walking away now meant a great insult to the lady.
"Will you do me the honor, my lady?" Thranduil erased emotion from his face and held out his hand.
As Thranduil led his new partner into the grove, Lord Istuion and Tinuiel passed them, hopping and skipping to the music. Tinuiel turned, gave him a wicked grin. She stuck out her tongue, then disappeared, laughing in her grandfather's arms.
"Little demon," Thranduil muttered under his breath and silently promised retribution.
Amon-thon June 25, SA 722
THRANDUIL climbed down the rope ladder, leaving the high talan of Lord Laegir's residence. The discussion concluded and many of the lords had either returned to their homes or tents. Only a few elder lords still lingered, speaking in low voices, enjoying their glass of wine, leaning against the many colorful pillows strewn on the platform. Thranduil had attended only because he was asked, not because he wanted to be part of them.
Lord Laegir's residence was built on the tallest, oldest fir tree Thranduil had ever seen. The trunk was twisted as if the years had weighed heavily on the gargantuan tree. The thick layers of the bark, like stone armor, looked petrified with age. Over the stony layers of the bark, a thick layer of deep green moss covered it like a fur cape.
The residence had three levels of telain built over the central trunk. The topmost talan was used as the elder lord's residence while the middle talan was used to entertain guests. The lowest talan, like many other tree-houses in the city, was connected to other trees. Several ropes made out of living vines branched out connecting one tree to another. All the trees on the top of the mountain were thus connected with living branches and vines trained to grow into bridges forming a complex tree-city of varying heights and sizes.
The bridge was nothing more than two sets of ropes, one for the feet and another slightly above for the little hands. Children used them to steady themselves until they became efficient at walking the ropes like little squirrels.
With the night deepening, amber lanterns hung on the eaves of each tree sparkled like stars on a cloudless summer night.
When he came to the lowest talan, Thranduil hesitated. Lord Laegir's tree stood in the center of the city facing the wide-open grove where the people had gathered to dance and sing. Many rope bridges connected this talan to the other trees.
But there was one rope bridge that led only to one tree, one nearest to the apex of the mountain. There was no other rope bridge there except the one from Lord Laegir's tree. And it stood high up above all other bridges. Curiosity driving him, Thranduil glanced above and around him. When he saw no one about, he stepped onto the rope bridge to the tree on the mountaintop. As he glided over the rope, glad that he had regained his light and was light enough to walk over the rope bridge with no trouble, he saw that he was above all the city lights below his feet.
The talan of the tree on the mountain top was wide and built over the two splitting main boles of the tree. One side had one of those removable screens Thranduil had seen in some of the tree-houses. Thranduil walked over to the edge of the talan and looked down at the city.
From the dark distance, the amber lights on the trees looked like a swarm of fireflies.
Vigorous Spring.
A wind swept through the treetops and called out to him in an ethereal voice. Thranduil scanned the trees below him. It was a clear voice, full of warmth and joy. He could not tell if it was a tree, an animal, or something else entirely. He couldn't even be sure where the sound came from. It was as if it was everywhere.
"She calls, like moonlight over the grove, singing the silent music of the Powers, the song which is everywhere but none hears. But you hear her, do you not, young Sinda?"
Thranduil turned. Lord Laegir stepped onto the talan. He glowed pale in the night like a spirit, his body almost transparent and shimmering in the dark. His long white hair flowed down his back like a stream of starlight. Something about him reminded Thranduil of an ancient tree, bare and covered in snow. He seemed frail, as if at any moment he will turn to dust and become nothing.
"Forgive me, my lord." Thranduil bowed with his hand on his chest. "I hope I am not intruding in your personal space. Please excuse me." He knew little about this elder lord, but something about this Silvan elf demanded respect. He stepped aside, turning to leave.
"Please stay. I had hoped to speak with you, son of Lord Oropher. May I call you Thranduil?"
"Please."
Lord Laegir smiled, exuding warmth. He stepped onto the spot Thranduil vacated and gestured for the Sinda to join him. Together, they looked down at the city.
"It is beautiful, is it not?"
"It is."
"Is this place very different from your home?"
"In some sense, but not so very different."
Menegroth was an immense city carved of blocks of granite, massive stone structures the Silvans could not even dream of. Unlike the tree city nestled in a forest, Menegroth was a stone city nestled inside a forest carved out of stones and marvelous gems. It had subterranean lakes, waterfalls, and hundreds of fountains. There never was a city more beautiful and sublime than Menegroth. But outside the gates of Menegroth, many Green Elves and other Sindar lived on telain built over the tree branches, much like Amon-thon. If anything was different, Doriath had more substantial structures built on the trees, unlike here where the dwellings felt more like nests of gigantic birds with walls of vines and branches.
"Our people build their homes mostly on a tree, but we do have some who build them on the ground. Have you seen them? They are hard to see for those unfamiliar with our structures."
"I've seen them."
"And you like them?"
"They are all right."
Lord Laegir chuckled. "You are not much of a talker, are you, Thranduil?"
"I suppose not."
"You are not at all who I expected you to be," the forest elf said, looking up at Thranduil. "And yet you are exactly as we expected."
"I do not understand." Thranduil frowned. What the elder elf said didn't seem to make much sense. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or bad.
"It means I am glad you are here."
Thranduil glanced at the elder elf. Did he mean here now or here in Greenwood?
"I saw that you said nothing when we were discussing about being unified under one leader."
"It was not my place to say."
"On the contrary, Thranduil. I wanted to hear your view. Many of us wanted to hear what you had to say.
"I doubt that. I have heard there are some who don't want us here. Besides, they are your people."
"My people? Hmmm. That sounds strange. I have never considered them mine, not the people or the forest. They never needed someone to lead them. But your father is right. Times are changing. We are no longer alone in this forest, and the dangers grow ever greater." He turned to the east and gazed at the dark sky for a long time.
Thranduil wondered how much Lord Laegir knew about what happened in the forest.
"I heard that you can speak to the trees, that you know everything that happens in Greenwood."
"Is that what they say?" The Elven lord laughed out loud, his delicate voice ringing in the night air. "If you leave it to the people, I could even be one of the Holy Ones. They think I could protect all of Greenwood from any unwanted outsiders who wish to enter." Lord Laegir shook his head. "I wish I could. But I have no powers of the Holy Ones. If I did, everything would go on as it once did. But time moves ever forward, and the world changes. And my time here is coming to a close."
"What do you mean? Does that mean you know what is happening in the forest? So it is true that you can speak to the trees?"
The older elf turned to lock eyes with Thranduil. "Can you?" Lord Laegir's eyes probed.
Thranduil closed himself off immediately, unsure how much he should reveal about his own abilities. He had not expected Lord Laegir to return the question. Thranduil hesitated, but the older elf turned back to the city.
"You hear her, do you not, Thranduil?"
"Yes."
"And yet you do not answer."
"I do not know what she wants."
"You do. But you have not opened your heart yet. But you will. In time, it will bloom like a flower that opens come spring. What little time I have left, I will assist you as much as I can and so will your father. We are but stewards. I believe your father understands this well. The heaviest of the burdens will be on you."
Thranduil did not know what the elf was saying. He frowned down at the Elven lord, doing his best to erase any emotion from his face. Only thing he knew clearly was that like everybody else, Lord Laegir expected something of him. They all wanted one thing or another. What that was, he wasn't sure. To be truly honest, he didn't want to know.
"Oh, to answer your question. I hear her, of course. But not others. I hear the music of the trees, and I can converse with the little critters as do many others of our people, but I do not hear other trees. But you do, do you not?"
"Yes."
"Curious." Lord Laegir smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the edges. "What do they say? I remember we tried to teach them to talk. Long time ago now. When we left Cuiviénen." He looked away, far into the night sky. "We tried to talk to everything we saw. But trees, they sang with us, but did not talk back. Only the tree herders learned our words."
"I can't say exactly. It is not words, I suppose. Just images."
"Ah, so that must be your gift. To speak with the trees. That is certainly an impressive gift. Is that mean you can see what the trees see? Perhaps you can help me rest my fears about my granddaughter traveling to Dorwinion. I wish she waited and left with Lord Istuion instead of going off alone."
"If she did not tarry in the forest, she should have reached her parents by now. The trees would know only as far as where their roots reach."
"Ah, then it is much like how Mother works. Her knowledge is limited to those areas where her roots reach. Anything else requires the eyes of Gwarbilin."
"Gwarbilin? A bird warden?"
"Yes. You have met him, have you not? He has roosted in your tree-house, I was told."
"You mean that overgrown owl?"
Lord Laegir laughed. "That 'overgrown owl' is Mother's messenger and my connection to the Mother, and soon yours as well."
It was strange to talk to another person about his 'gift'. It was something neither the Noldor nor the Sindar did. The matters regarding the 'gifts' were private, but here he was talking about his gift with someone he hardly knew.
Suddenly, the very air seemed to hold its breath. It was brief, a mere second, before time went on as usual. Thranduil frowned. Something about this was familiar, and a bad feeling swept through him.
Elleth (singular) and ellyth (plural) (Sindarin. Elf-woman)
Talan (singular) and telain (plural) (Sindarin. Flat space; platform)—also called flet in Westron is a platform built in the trees. We see this at Lorien in the LOTR. I don't think this is unique to Lorien. Lorien probably was influenced by Noldor and the Sindar under Galadriel and Celeborn so their city would look somewhat different than those at Greenwood, however.
Cuiviénen (Quenya. Water of Awakening)—Central region of Middle-earth where first Elves awoke under the stars before the birth of the sun and the moon. The Elves lived here for 55 Valian years (about 530 solar years) before they were sundered. Those who answered the call of the Valar and traveled to the west are called Eldar (all of Vanyar, half of Noldor and 2/3 of Teleri). The ones who remained in Cuivienen are called Avari, the unwilling.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. Was in the process of changing computers. You would think with all those technology available today that losing files would be a thing of the past. Not so, I found. I have given up recovering them and started to rewrite out of memory. Without further ado, here is chapter 42.