64 - Guests Arrive

Elluin had risen early, eager to begin preparations for the arrival of the party from Lorinand. As housekeeper, she was responsible for ensuring the guests had rooms prepared for them and that all their needs would be met during their stay. She now stood in the large talan she had selected close to the king's own chambers for Celeborn, Galadriel, Celebrian, and Arwen. There were enough additional rooms running off from the main platform to accommodate Elrond, his sons, and Glorfindel as soon as they arrived from Rivendell. Running through her mental list, she ensured that cold water ewers were filled beside each basin, that the fruit in the baskets on each room's table were fresh, that there were spare linens and robes in the chests by the foot of each bed, that the lanterns lacked no oil and that there were plenty of tapers for lighting them.

She nodded in satisfaction before turning to praise the servants who stood awaiting her judgment on their work. One final adjustment to the flowers in a vase close to the door, and she was out again, smoothing a hand over her own gown as she made her way toward Thranduil's borrowed room. The builders needed the king out of the way while they finished the expansion of the royal suite. In the interim, Thranduil had chosen a room originally meant to house palace servants, containing little more than a narrow bed and a small table, with a window overlooking the stream used to fetch water for the kitchens. Sulros had, at least, brought over some of the finer linens. But Thranduil had not cared a smidgen about the accommodations, rather enjoying their proximity to Elluin's office and the servant's door she used to enter the palace.

The king opened the door for Elluin himself when she knocked, and unceremoniously tugged her through and into an embrace, kissing her deeply as she accepted his affections with delight.

"Good morning, my heart," he said once they finally broke apart, slightly breathless and eyes twinkling with joy.

"It is, indeed, after such a greeting," she said fondly, caressing his cheek. "What has you in such a fine mood?"

"Having you near me," he answered smoothly with a bright smile.

Elluin mirrored his expression, but narrowed her eyes in suspicion, seeing what he hid. "Perhaps so, but there is something else."

Thranduil took a deep breath, conceding. He tucked her arm into his elbow as he led her two steps over to the breakfast table and seated her. "I had an informative…conversation with Cembeleg last night," he told her. "It abated a worry I had not realized I carried."

"I am glad for it," Elluin said, and reached to squeeze his hand. "You could not have chosen a better ellon to stand for your house at the wedding, Thranduil."

"I agree with you," he said, dropping an additional bunch of grapes onto her plate. "Though I still wonder if it will not offend Celeborn that I did not ask him."

"Lord Celeborn is gracious enough, from what you've told me, not to become offended over something like that," she said, though it seemed she was slightly distracted. "And wise enough, I hear, that he should see the worthiness of your choice."

Thranduil nodded slowly, studying her. "It seems you are suddenly speaking of something else."

Elluin let out a breath in a huff and allowed him to see her nervousness. "I confess, I still doubt whether such high lords as are coming would entirely approve of your marriage to me."

Thranduil's brows rose with incredulity. "Elluin, it was Celeborn who helped me see the senselessness of me trying to avoid our marriage. Galadriel has said nothing explicitly on the matter, but the fact that she made overtures in Rivendell and sent you that message with Amroth's letter last spring should make it obvious enough that she has no objections to your character. And anyway," he said dismissively, tucking into his food, "she was not born of my father's house, and thus her opinion is not of great importance to me."

Elluin stifled a grin at his lasting aversion to any of the Noldor. Though she was of the Sindar, her contact with the Noldor in Cirdan's realm, along with her youth, had made her much more tolerant. "Even though she was a confidant of Queen Melian of Doriath, and was considered worthy enough to receive… one of the creations of Celebrimbor?"

Thranduil scrunched his nose. "Even so," he said. But he turned an amused smirk at her right after. He took her hand across the table as his expression turned serious. "My father wished to avoid Celeborn and Galadriel's influence on Greenwood, so I will not be asking for my cousin's official blessing. But he will give it anyway, knowing my respect both for my father and for him. And he will be very happy to represent my father's house. Mark my words."

Reassured, Elluin was able to enjoy the rest of the meal.

~.~.~

Silvan voices sang songs of welcome as the travelers entered the courtyard. Stable hands helped the ladies dismount before taking the horses as palace runners quickly whisked bags away under Galion and Orthoril's direction. Elluin would have been scurrying to help, had her hand not been secured in a gentle grip by Thranduil. Together they stood in the center of the courtyard along with the other council members assembled to greet their guests.

Celeborn stepped forward with Anarrima on his arm. "King Thranduil," he began with a slight bow, "my family and I have joined the company returning to the Greenwood to attend the most fortuitous event of your wedding."

"I welcome the travelers from Lorinand, and those returning home," Thranduil answered, conscious that the times he would use the singular pronoun to give official welcomes was now numbered. The thought gave him a small thrill.

Formalities completed, Anarrima stepped forward and, to everyone's surprise, embraced Elluin first as she stood silently by the Elvenking's side.

"Ah, dear, I cannot tell you how happy I was to receive word that my nephew finally saw sense," she whispered into the young elleth's hair. Though said quietly, Thranduil could hear, and his aunt knew it. Pulling back, Anarrima gave Elluin a wink before turning to touch Thranduil's cheek affectionately with an unrepentant smile, and exchanged a more polite greeting. Then she stepped back to make the official re-introductions.

After that, Elluin found her voice and invited the assembly to refresh themselves, then join the court in the main hall for the midday meal. Her invitation was met with gracious enthusiasm. The guests filed away, led by servants. Ninniach took the opportunity to slide out of the group to reunite with her mother, who whisked her off as the council members dispersed. Only the guards and a few ellith remained, including Turiel. But before she could approach, one of the guards stepped forward.

Thranduil's eyebrows rose in recognition. "Feren," he greeted him as the guard saluted. "Welcome to Greenwood."

"Thank you, sire," he said, and promptly knelt before him with no preamble. "I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, King Thranduil, to serve you and the Greenwood for as long as I may."

"I gratefully receive your oath. Please rise." The Silvan complied and then cast a curious glance at Elluin, which she returned. Thranduil decided to explain. "Elluin, this is Feren. He met my challenge when I… was in need of a sparring partner, and his performance impressed me to the point that I invited him to leave Lorinand and join our forces."

"You are to be Elvenqueen, my lady?" Feren interrupted with a bow. At her affirmation, he looked at her with that kind openness that was typical of the Silvans. "I fought in the Battle of the Last Alliance, my lady, and had not thought to resume life as a soldier when we returned to the woods. But then I watched as King Amdir's wife succumbed to grief and it settled poorly on my heart. It is not something I wish to repeat." There was a haunted look in the soldier's eyes, that soon turned to determination. "I fight to preserve and protect, my lady. You can trust me to safeguard the king with my life, and thereby, yours."

She held out a hand to him, which he took gently. "Thank you, Feren," she told him honestly. He bowed to both of them before he retreated.

As soon as the path was clear, Turiel marched up with a bright smile and bowed formally before her king and her friend.

"Well met, my king," she said after receiving a small nod of permission to speak. "I offer my congratulations on your upcoming wedding."

"Thank you, Turiel. You were, once more, instrumental in ensuring the kingdom's well-being," Thranduil told her gravely. "If you had not trained your messenger birds so well, instructions may not have reached the palace in time to ensure Elluin's life."

She bowed again to acknowledge his recognition. "As you know, sire, I undertook the project to protect the land and the people I love. And no matter how much I despise the need for it, I will continue to develop it for this purpose. I will ever be at the service of the king and queen of Greenwood the Great."

At that, Turiel turned a joyful expression to Elluin, who promptly released Thranduil's hand to step forward and embrace her heartily, muttering thanks and welcomes.

"Now, lady, you've gotten all my road dust on your fine gown," Turiel protested weightlessly, squeezing back.

"Turiel, will you come have dinner with my family this evening?"

"Of course!"

"Elluin, we are expected for the midday meal," Thranduil murmured, reluctant to interrupt the friends' reunion.

Turiel graciously excused herself, failing to hide a conspiratorial smile as she bowed.

~.~.~

The midday meal was a merry gathering. Maethon was playing his harp, sat with some other Silvan musicians at one corner of the courtyard as Elluin and the rest of Thranduil's court entertained the visitors from Lorinand. Elluin, on Thranduil's left, was speaking amiably with Celebrian beside her about how the duties of the lady of the house differed between Rivendell and Greenwood.

Celeborn was seated at Thranduil's right. "Amroth will be along in another week, if his estimate was right," the older ellon told his kinsman. "He needed to settle the court after the excitement of our visitors… and the abrupt departure of some of our guests." His eyes twinkled.

"I wish to thank you again, Celeborn, for your advice," Thranduil said soberly. "If you had not convinced me of my error—"

"It does not bear mentioning, I know," his companion interrupted with equal gravity. "It gladdens me to share in your present happiness. And, for however much you deem it worth, Thranduil, I wish to offer my official blessing on your marriage."

Elluin, having overheard, swiveled her head over to the pair, eyes twinkling with gratitude. Celeborn nodded solemnly at her with a smile and Thranduil took her hand.

"Thank you, Celeborn," Thranduil said. "It means a great deal to both of us."

The meal continued with lighthearted conversation for, perhaps, more time than any of them had originally intended. Some leaves in the surrounding trees had begun to blush with the oncoming fall, and the sun, reaching the level of the canopy, lent an edge of fierce gold to the greens and reds.

Conversation among the guests, relaxed as it was with the wine and the company, lulled to a comfortable halt as the musicians took up new melodies. Thranduil, to everyone's surprise except Maethon's, rose then and joined them. The group then took up an old Silvan melody as the Elvenking sang, affectionate eyes resting most often on his bride.

*Behold her, single in the glade,

Yon solitary Elven lass!

Walking and singing by herself;

Stop here, or gently pass!

Alone she marks and picks the blooms,

And sings her melancholy tunes;

O listen! for the wood profound

Is overflowing with the sound.

~.~

No Nightingale did ever chant

More welcome notes to weary bands

Of travelers in some shady haunt,

Among the Havens' sands:

A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard

In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,

Breaking the silence of the seas

Among the pines and linden trees.

~.~

Will no one tell me what she sings?—

Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow

For old, unhappy, far-off things,

And battles long ago:

Or is it some more humble lay,

Familiar matter of today?

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,

That has been, and may be again?

~.~

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang

As if her song could have no ending;

I saw her singing at her work,

And o'er the blossoms bending;—

I listened, motionless and still;

And, as I mounted up the hill,

The music in my heart I bore,

Long after it was heard no more.

Heartfelt cheers went up around the courtyard as Thranduil returned to his chair, where Elluin took his hand and kissed it.

Ninniach then took her cue, her enchanting voice singing of the richness and bounty of autumn. But so entranced were Thranduil and Elluin with each other that they hardly noticed. In fact, it was long before they were roused from their mutual starry-eyed reverie to realize they were the objects of much gentle teasing from the guests.

~.~.~

Maethon invited himself along when Turiel went to visit Elluin at her family's house that evening, and both were heartily welcomed. The meal was simple but delicious. Afterwards, the three younger Elves climbed into a tree close to a nearby stream. A tawny owl call sounded briefly from nearby, alerting Elluin to the presence of her guards as they settled onto different limbs of the sprawling oak.

Elluin and Maethon listened intently as Turiel described the journey to Lorinand with the brooding Elvenking. "The ladies took to avoiding him completely," she recalled. "There were dark rings under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he always seemed angry at the whole world. Sulros had such a time managing him, as I'm sure you've heard, Maethon."

"Yes. He said that things finally turned around when he put a few drops of daisy oil on the king's pillow — from the vial you sent with him, Elluin."

"He was much less snappy after that," Turiel continued. "But still, the stubborn sorrow in his eyes often gave me chills. It made me despair for you, actually," she said, turning a serious expression to Elluin.

"As you know, I did nearly succumb," she said quietly. "But don't stop your tale."

"Very well. I had been given permission to set up a bird message station the day after we arrived, and set to it immediately. Something told me it would be needed — I thought maybe a demonstration would be requested or something of the sort. But sure enough, in the afternoon of the very next day, we received a messenger from Greenwood by boat, and the forest suddenly rang with the king's voice calling for King Amroth. I thought something awful had befallen and I feared the worst. Then a guard dropped in to tell me that the two kings were making plans for a swift departure, and I was somewhat reassured.

"I sent the Lorinand Elves I was training away for a moment," Turiel went on, "then the king came to me. Did you receive the message he sent you?"

"Yes," Elluin said, "but I hardly remember it. I think his instructions to Galion were more helpful. What happened after he left you?"

"Sulros was furious," Maethon said with a smirk. "He told me he had just finished unpacking everything, then King Thranduil came storming in demanding everything be packed up again within the hour."

"Oh, I can imagine he was displeased!" Elluin said sympathetically.

"I saw them off," Turiel said, "and though he looked a little frazzled, Sulros was much happier than he had been during the weeks of our journey. And the king was desperate and impatient. After they left, the whole of Lorinand was soon buzzing with the rumor that King Thranduil had taken offense to something, and then the conclusion was quickly drawn that, just like Oropher, it was the Lady Galadriel that so provoked him. Our guards and I were about to set those rumors to rest, especially since they had ruffled a few feathers in Lorinand. But Lady Ninniach took on the campaign.

"In her very public conversations with Arwen, she was all but singing of the rocky romance that was unfolding between King Thranduil and his golden-haired love. Her admiration for you was clear, Elluin. And the Lady Galadriel was heard commenting that she hoped and trusted that Thranduil would travel safely back to Greenwood to be reunited with you, and return to Lorinand soon, with his wife. Everyone then concluded that the Lady, in fact, favors both the match and the two of you."

"I must thank Lady Ninniach for preventing a diplomatic incident," Elluin said, somewhat dryly, then turned serious again. "And Lady Galadriel for her kind words."

"Kind words are one thing; foresight is another," Turiel said. "It is rumored that Queen Melian taught the Lady some way to glimpse the future. I can believe that someone born in Valinor might harness such power, but…I suppose time will be the best test of those rumors."

"I marvel that you were so quickly taken into the confidence of the Lorinand Elves to hear such rumors, Turiel," Maethon noted.

"You know our peoples are not far sundered," she answered simply.

"You have so many talents, my friend," Elluin mused with a smile.

"The primary of which is scraping bird droppings from talan floors," Turiel quipped back.

Merry laughter rang through the woods.

"Now, I have given you my account," Turiel said. "It is your turn."

The mood quickly turned somber. "I feared for Elluin's life," Maethon began, a pained expression on his face at the memory. "I called for my grandsire as soon as she started to neglect some of her duties. He said she had less than a moon left, if that, and that was only about two weeks after you and the king had left for Lorinand. It was fortunate, indeed, that Galion had already thought to encourage Lady Raegdis to write to the king. While we waited, many from the household simply fought to reach Elluin's spirit."

"Again, I hardly remember any of it. I was...lost," Elluin lamented. "But Maethon, I'm sure your efforts were responsible for keeping me from fading." Her countenance dropped. "What a weakling I am," she said. "I was completely unable to sustain myself."

"Don't you dare," Turiel said firmly, Maethon echoing his agreement. "It is the way of Elven bodies to break along with their hearts. You held on long enough for the king to reach you – that is no small feat."

"I had help," Elluin said, reaching over to pat Maethon's leg where it hung near her shoulder. "And I will forever be grateful for it."

"I should hope so," Maethon said. "Or else, why would we be working so hard to prepare for your wedding?"

The ellith chuckled.

"Elluin," Turiel asked, "do you think the Elvenqueen will still wish to spend evenings in this old oak tree with her lowly Silvan friends?"

"Undoubtedly."

*Adapted from "The Solitary Reaper," a poem by William Wordsworth.