*

Chapter 3: The First Meeting

"I am sorry." Ereinion Gil-galad, King of the Noldor, told his guests deep sorrow in his voice. They were within his chambers in his manor in Lindon. Isildur and Elendil were robes much in the fashion of Gil-galad, light and free flowing of white and gold to mark honored guests. Isildur looked into the elven king's sapphire eyes wincing inwardly.

"Don't be." Isildur said, "It was bound to happen." But not so soon, thought to elven king silently.

"I had been speaking with a representative of Lorien." said Gil-galad looking at the two lords of men calmly, "Galadriel feels the shadow growing in Mirkwood, the orcs are invading to close to elven domains and they have grown ever more daring as the years pass." He stood up from his seat and began pacing lightly.

"I have heard of such reports myself." said Isildur, "Our scouts in the north have bumped into more than one camp of orcs."

"The power of Mordor grows." Gil-galad said softly, "Galadriel made a proposal to me," He said turning towards them, "She suggests we call a Council at Imladris, with not only the heads of the elves invited but you as well, including Anarion."

"And what is the purpose of this Council, lord?" asked Isildur curiously. Gil-galad smiled at him.

"Galadriel proposes and Alliance of Elves and Men against Sauron." The elven king said. Elendil and Isildur exchanged glances.

"Are you saying that we are to combine the host of our armies and march into Mordor? That sounds almost insane…" Isildur muttered quietly.

"Indeed, but it shall not be done in haste. It is simply an offered idea, nothing has been decided yet of it." said Gil-galad, for even I find the prospect of marching into Mordor bristling, thought the elven king.

"But something shall be decided of it certainly." said Elendil some foreboding in his eyes.

"True," Gil-galad said, "We shall still need Anarion's and Elrond's counsel on this as well as Erestor's and Glorfindel's."

Isildur sighed deeply, "At the rate of what is happening in Gondor, and of the news of Mirkwood and Lorien I would not doubt that the dark lord is attempting to push his power into Eriador."

"That is my thoughts also," said Gil-galad grimly, "He does not yet know where Imladris lies."

"And may he never know of it." said Elendil fervently a bright fire in his eyes for he yet remembered the fall of Eregion.

"There is another matter also that needs to be settled." whispered Gil-galad mostly to himself, For I have yet the three rings delivered to me before Celebrimbor's fall… He shivered at the thought of the three rings. He dared not lay his hands on one of them for he knew Sauron's power still lied with the one. "But rest now, especially you Isildur," said Gil-galad with a welcoming smile, "For Gildor has told me that you would much prefer the warmth of a bed than a ship cot."

Isildur let out an easy laugh glad for a lighter subject, "Indeed, my lord, that you are right."

*

Gil-galad walked out onto his balcony sighing deeply and looking down at the white blooming flowers neath the moonlight. "Varda," he whispered letting loose his long golden hair from its bind and running his hands through it in some frustration, "Have I the strength to lead such a host?" He asked silently in the old elven tongue of Quenya.

He knew it was invetible. That unless there was an alliance between the two kindreds Sauron would make his way through Middle Earth without being checked. Gil-galad sighed again. He was slowly growing weary of war and yet he had not sailed west. The Elves of this world needed him still and he knew this was his place for now.

Looking down he saw something that caught his eye in the courtyard below. There was a lady gowned in soft emerald sleeping upon a bed of moss and flowers beneath one of the great beech trees. Indeed it was common for the elven servants of his households to do such things at time but he had not recognized that elf at any rate. Hair of long of fiery red, a strange color among the elves.

Gil-galad walked down quietly, bear footed. Lovely was she beneath the moonlight, a lovely sight indeed, but as he looked closer he saw that this was no elf at all, but a human lady. Gil-galad tilted his head slightly admiring her; she was beautiful for a mortal. A strong lithe body and a face tanned and blushed from ocean winds no doubt.

He then realized this must be the sister of Isildur… Anariel was her name.

She stirred, as if sensing his eyes on her. Gil-galad stepped back lightly not wishing to frighten her. Her eyes were a deep green. She looked up sleepily at him.

"Am I dreaming again?" she asked in a quiet whisper some sorrow in her eyes. Gil-galad smiled at her.

"Nay, lady, but if this be a dream then I pray it is a beautiful one."

*

Anariel, though hearing his reply, was still dazed. This was indeed a figure from her dreams, that she had no doubt. She blinked twice and looked about trying to place her surroundings for she had slept peacefully, 'neath the great tree in the courtyard, waiting for Isildur and her father to be done with their meeting.

It seemed to her that wherever elves walked there was peace.

She sat up and looked up at the elf before her. His hair was long and light gold and his eyes a silver bright blue. He stood tall and had a strong bearing about him. This indeed was the elf that had appeared in her dreams. She had no doubt of it now. He was absolutely handsome. She realized she was staring and turned away blushing at her manners. It seemed that for a moment Riordan disappeared from her mind and she refused to let that happen.

"Forgive me," she said, "I'm still not much used to being here, and sometimes I forget I am not dreaming, and among elves." The reply sounded stupid even to her. But the elf took no offense of her manners sitting across from her on the ground and crossing his legs and smiling kindly.

"My lady, you speak kindly of elves. But tell me, have I thus fallen into a dream? For if you are mortal then you are the loveliest among them." He told her. Anariel sighed. She had heard many compliments before, when she was courting Riordan, and even from others who had wanted her hand. And yet coming from this elf, they seemed almost… truthful.

"I… thank you." she told him not meeting his eyes. He laughed softly, and his laughter was not unkind.

"Lady, will you not look at me? Or am I that hideous to look upon?" He asked bemused.

"Nay, sir," she told him finally meeting the brightness of his eyes, "For you are much too radiant to look upon that my eyes cannot hold yours for long."

What was she saying? Anariel did not know what over came her at the moment. Elves. Something about them, and yet… she had not spoken to Gildor in such a manner. I saw him in my visions, She thought, I saw the blood upon this one's sword.

"You are the sister of Isildur, are you not?" asked the golden haired elf.

"Indeed, I am." Anariel told him, "You seem to have the advantage here, sir, for I do not know who you are."

Something sparkled in his eyes, something utterly childish, like a little boy who knew a secret but would not tell. He laughed suddenly.

"I would have more fun that you didn't know at all," said the elf as he stood up, "Unless you'd like to guess it." Anariel raised an eyebrow at him finding it easier to look at him now, as he appeared playful.

"Many are the names of elves." Anariel told him, "How would you have me guess it?" He offered her a hand to help her up and she took it.

"Hmm…" said the elf, "I do not know, lady, I suppose you shall have to figure for yourself. Would you do me the honor to walk with me a bit?" He asked her as he bowed. Anariel smiled. She would never tire from the unpredictable antics of elves. Remembering her conversation with Gildor she suddenly wished to talk with another elf and certainly she deemed this one interesting.

"Most certainly, sir." She told him. "And where shall we walk?"

"Why," he said taking her hand and leading her out, Anariel felt surprised by his sudden familiarity with her but said nothing of it, "We shall run away into the night to the beaches, for the stars and moon shine brightly there and I would see them glimmer upon the ocean shore."

Isildur had been right when he said she would be surrounded with the endless poetry of the elves. She smiled at him.

"Is there such a place?"

"Of course, my lady." smiled the elf, "Follow me!"

*

Isildur frowned not finding his sister. An elven maid passed by. "Lady," Isildur said, giving the elven lady a slight bow, "Have you seen my sister, the Lady Anariel?" The elven lady smiled playfully at him.

"Yes, my lord," said the elven maid, "She went to walk with Gil-galad." Isildur raised an eyebrow.

"Did she now?" he asked curiously. Anariel? Walk with the elven king?

"Aye, sir, they left about an hour ago." she said.

"Thank you, lady." said Isildur and he walked on and raised an eyebrow to himself as he headed to his chambers for rest.

*

The elf had not lied about such a place. Anariel and he walked upon the sandy beaches away from the docks just outside the walls of Lindon. The stars did shine brightly and moon glimmered silver upon the waters. Anariel admired the view and silently considered whether or not she was still sleeping for maybe in elven towns one's dreams were peaceful and beautiful.

"My lady," said the elf looking at her curiously his blue eyes glittering, "You act as if you have never seen such sites." He clasped his hands behind his back.

"I have never really been on a beach before," Anariel said, "I have never even seen the ocean until we left Osgilliath upon a ship." She said, "But you are right, sir, the stars indeed shine beautifully here."

He looked up to them his eyes misting over in thought. "Yes, they are, lady." He said in a quiet voice. His voice sounded like a light breeze. He sat against a large rock upon the beach and invited her to sit by him. Anariel looked at him and smiled.

"You said I could guess your name, sir." she told him.

"Indeed I did, lady," said the elf a playful smile touching his lips as he turned back to her, "Do you have it yet?"

"I would call you Surihuon." She told him, "For your voice is as the wind." The golden haired elf grinned at her then laughed lightly.

"You are versed in our old tongue?" He asked her.

"Yasse hwestannar lorelindo-nin?" Anariel said quoting a lament her mother sang long ago, "A! Elentinwe! ar vanwa na Laureanorie ar orenie! Nu elenya siluvar oiale ar fallas Earon!" [translation: Where, in the breezes of the sea, lies my song? O! Star Shine! Lost to me is the Golden Land and my heart! Forever beneath the light of the stars and the waves of the sea!]

The elf looked at her surprised. "Few are the men who speak the old elven tongue, where did you come to learn it? Not even Isildur nor Elendil speak it, though they know Sindaren."

Anariel sighed deeply. "My mother spoke it," She said softly, "I remember little of her, for she died when Numenor sank beyond the waves." She swallowed, "When I was young while Minas Anor was being built my father had recovered some of my mother's books in the ship. Many of them were her diaries written in the old elven tongue. I took them to myself even when I only knew a little Sindaren myself and I learned it, though I still do not know it that well." she said quietly.

"It is not so hard a tongue to learn as most mortals may think," said the elf, "Though I suppose I may have books on it within my libraries if you wish to read one." Anariel cocked an eyebrow at the golden haired elf.

"Your libraries?" She asked.

*

Oh curse his tongue at times, Gil-galad thought, "Well, the libraries at any rate." He amended quickly. A smile curved her lips.

"Are you a friend of the king's? For you must be to speak of his home as such." Anariel told him. Gil-galad grinned, she caught on fast. There was a glimmer in her eyes he liked about her and her immediate warmth toward him made him feel better than the formality he had to put on earlier among counselors and heralds.

"You could say that, my lady." Gil-galad told her, "I do work within the home of Gil-galad."

"Then why are you loathe to tell me your name, sir?" Anariel asked him.

"Do you know what your name means, my lady?" asked Gil-galad changing subjects, "It means 'Lady of Fire.'" She laughed.

"Aye, and my brother's is 'Lord of Fire' and the other 'Servant of the Moon.'" she told him. "Strange are meanings of names that are given to us, stranger still how it seems that our very names determine the road of our fate."

Gil-galad glanced up at the stars in memory thinking of what his father had told him when he was very young. When you were born, your mother called you Gil-galad, whispered the voice of Fingon in his mind, She said you would be the brightest star against the darkness of the world… He smiled sadly remembering his silly reply for he had yet been to young to understand.

'But I don't even shine!' he had told his father. How he missed him now! Gil-galad could not wait until the Council. He deeply wanted to see Elrond again, and his mind was drifting toward his friend. Glancing at Anariel he saw that her eyes were lingering the stars at the ocean's horizon but the expression on her face displayed an inner torment and sadness.

"What troubles you, my lady?" asked Gil-galad, "For I see tears yet unshed glistening in your emerald eyes." She looked at him surprised for a moment. Gil-galad had decided that she had forgotten that he was there.

"I…" She began but seemed to choke on her own words she glanced down, "My husband, Riordan, once told me that he would like to see the Great Sea one day with me. He said that when peace finally came over Middle Earth then we would go together to western shores to see it's beauty together." Her words came out softly and painfully but Gil-galad heard them, "And now I have come here out of urgency, to the beauty of Lindon, without him, for he has passed on into shadow." She whispered as two tears trickled down her cheeks as her eyes closed in memory.

Gil-galad took off his robe and wrapped it around the lady's shoulders in comfort. "My lady, few are those who know the fate of men when they pass on." Gil-galad told her softly, "But if Iluvatar gave it to them then I suppose that you may trust that wherever your husband may be he watches you still and wishes you happiness no matter what may come." Anariel forced a smile and wiped away her tears.

"I shouldn't be troubling you with my woes."

"Nay, my lady." Gil-galad told her with a smile daring to hug her, "Trouble me further than troubling yourself!" She gave a short humorless laugh.

"You are only the second elf I have met since I arrived here and I find elves to be the most amazing of the living peoples!" She told him finally meeting his eyes. Gil-galad took notice at her face and finally realized why he had mistaken her for an elf. She was yet young and yet her eyes seemed to see far and sorrow already touched her closely.

"We should begin walking back, lest all of Lindon come looking for us." She told him, "And Isildur might be wondering where I am." Gil-galad smiled in good humour.

"Let them wonder!" He exclaimed, "It will make the late return far more amusing! As for your brother? I'm sure he'll understand…" She laughed her sorrows fading away.

"You do not know my brother sir, he is very protective of me be you man, elf, dwarf, or no." Gil-galad raised an eyebrow his expression serious though he fought a smile of amusement.

"Dwarf? Has Dwarf attempted to court you?" Anariel grinned standing up much to Gil-galad's dismay.

"You would be surprised of the tales I have of those who have attempted to court me when I was once a maid." Gil-galad smiled and took her arm.

"You shall have to tell them to me."

"Your name first, sir?"

"Simply call me Meledhel."

*

Meledhel: 'Dearst Elf'