Author Notes: Thanks to Soledad, whose story 'Innocence' was the inspiration for my interpretation of the relationship between Galadriel and Lórien. I'm a bit hard on Galadriel here. Keep in mind that this story is supposedly written from the point of view of Thranduil's son, who might feel somewhat resentful that the fictional historians practically worshipped Galadriel and all but ignored his father.
Lots of endnotes, I'm afraid - we know so little about the Second Age, and even less about Oropher and Thranduil, so I felt obliged to show what scant reasoning I had behind some of the events in this chapter
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tolkien with the exception of original characters needed to fill out Oropher's family tree or move the story along. Translations of Elvish words and additional notes are found at the end of the chapter.
Pride and Prejudice
Spring - 932 Second Age, Eryn Galen
"Adar*, they wish only to be allowed passage through our land and the crossing at Parth Celebrant. We are obliged to do nothing in the event of an attack upon the caravans." In the privacy of Oropher's library, father and son discussed the proposal of the emissary from Tharbad. The High King, it seemed, missed his Dorwinion wines and was determined to restore the eastern trade route.
Such involvement in the doings of other peoples ran against Oropher's inclinations. Thranduil insisted that they must have friendship with the men and strange little Fallohides of the Vale, for they were their neighbors. They were good folk, allies in the vigilance required to keep unwholesome creatures at bay, and with them they bartered for what the Wood Elves could not or would not make. The wine trade, however, was a matter of politics, for which Oropher had little taste. "We shall have bands of thieves lying wait in our forest, and caravans or no, they cannot be ignored. We will have to shake them out for our own security. And Malgalad's folk hold the crossing; they must defend it from outlaws who would hinder trade, for it is too important to us and to the men of the Vale. Why bring such burdens upon ourselves?"
"We shall be well compensated for our part, Adar."
"Be wary, Thranduil, that you do not trade peace for want of gold," the King cautioned.
Thranduil had a ready answer to his father's objections, but paused strategically, pretending to consider the question. "I hope that is not the case. Our peace may depend on such a plan, for we are pressed by Hadhodrond.* The dwarves regret that we have come among the wood folk, as they would not have the elves united in trade with them."
The Noldorin emissary had not expected such resistance from elves. He knew that the men living southeast of the woods would set high the price of their cooperation, as some of their people were the thieves who had nearly destroyed the Dorwinion wine trade. In Eryn Galen, Húlarn expected more cooperation. One might excuse his ignorance of ancient elven grievances; he was young, born in Eregion, and there none were eager to recall enmity for which their lord's father and close kin were largely responsible.
Húlarn had come to Tharbad some twenty years ago, acting as a liaison between the High King's outpost and the men of the town, and like others of his clan, had little contact with Oropher's people before they went east. Now he understood that such isolation had been by design.
The King's son at last returned. "We are prepared to allow passage through our lands, if our kinsman Malgalad in Lindórinand** wills it also. He has taken to wife a princess of that land and we interfere little with the rule of his fief,** and the crossing at Parth Celebrant is held by his people."
As Thranduil had foreseen, mention of the stunted folk, for whom the former subjects and kin of Thingol had no great love, had decided his father in favor of the plan. During their years on the Gwathló, Thranduil had become a shrewd negotiator. Like his late mother, he saw the necessity of maintaining ties to other peoples, even to the dwarves and the Noldor. But wine and gold motivated Thranduil's diplomacy less than a concern dear to his heart - and to the heart of his sister.
~~~
"Ah, Cugu,* long have I awaited you and the tidings you bring." The elf-maid took the parchment from the bird's leg and unrolled it carefully. As she started to read, insistent cooing interrupted her. "Alas, my apologies, Cugu, you will want your reward. I was too eager to have news of my captain." Having fed and watered the messenger, Laigil turned again to her letter.
"It is a poor letter, for I was too happy in anticipation of your fair face to pay mind to my writing."
Laigil turned, transported with joy at the sight of the raven-haired elf. "But I did not see you with the others of Tharbad."
"I wished to surprise you, but I did not think it wise to do so in front of your father."
"That indeed would have been awkward." She frowned, recalling the reason for their long separation.
"Let us not speak on this tonight, and be happy in each other's company. Our errand here is finished, and I must move on tomorrow, but if we are as successful with your kinsman in Lindórinand, I shall soon be passing this way regularly in guard of the tradesmen who hope to resume the wine trade. But Laigil, I shall have a silver ring** on your finger before Yule, you may depend on it."
Autumn - 932 Second Age, Eryn Galen
Yule peeked through the gold and red forest, its arrival whispered in the cold winds from the north. Feeling the growing roundness of her belly, Laigil knew that she and her love were long past a decent betrothal. It was her hope that Málissë would soon return, as he had promised in June, with the harvest wines, for she could not much longer conceal her condition.
The elves changed their summer emerald greens for the browns and twilight greens of autumn, and at feasts and when he sat as their King in his hall, Oropher wore a traditional crown of vines, woven with cranberries and red leaves from the turning maple.** It was a busy time for the elves, for no nearby town might provide through a harsh winter. With squirrels, they fought a good-natured battle for nuts, but bears, fat and happy in a forest well tended by the wood folk, were more gracious in sharing the autumn fruits and berries. Trout they caught and salted for preservation, they gathered mushrooms to trade to the Fallohides for gourds and other autumn vegetables, and apples from their orchards were destined to become dwarven cider ale; in return, the elves obtained the iron and mithril needed by their smiths. Soft elven cloth was traded for grains grown by the men in the upper Vale, though the Ivonwin** alone cultivated the special corn used to make lembas.
The completion of the corn harvest marked the beginning of the Autumn Festival, and the Noldor arrived with the promised wines only on the eve of the merrymaking. Already they had completed one journey in the early summer, and this would be the last journey before the New Year arrived with spring, for winter was hard on the plains between Dorwinion and the Fords of Isen. Caught up in the gay mood of the elves as they looked forward to days of feasting and song, Oropher suffered the travelers with relatively good grace; moreover, it would be unthinkably discourteous to turn them away from the celebration.
Laigil watched the dancers, relieved that the planning of such a feast, time-consuming even if one set aside the labor-intensive rituals of the corn harvest, had become Berinaeth's worry. Her sister's efficiency and confidence in delegating duties made the work behind the festival as seamless as the festival itself. As one of the Ivonwin, she had been busy herself, but the work, automatic after a thousand harvests, had been comforting this fall amid her inner turmoil.
"Yavanna** has been extra bountiful this year, I see," a low voice whispered in her ear. Laigil's fair skin blushed pink, but her eyes betrayed her fears. "Melethen,* surely your father cannot be such a tyrant that you are unhappy in this blessed time."
"Nay, but this complicates matters. My father will be very angry." They walked toward the edge of the clearing in the village, and Laigil caught her brother's eye before they slipped away from the festivities. He would make excuses for her should she be looked for.
"I have not told anyone," Laigil confessed.
Málissë found it difficult to reconcile Laigil's anxiety with the silver-haired King, who walked freely among his people at the feast, no circlet of gold but a crown of vines on his head. He had watched Oropher for some time, partly awaiting a moment to bring Laigil away beyond keen elven hearing, and partly to take a measure of the elf who had so long kept them apart. Oropher hardly seemed forbidding or severe. His people were evidently devoted to him and he to them.
In truth, it was Laigil he did not understand well. In this he was not alone, for many failed to understand the timid elf. Her fears of her father's disapproval and disappointment had grown over the years of secrecy, becoming terrible in her mind. She knew well the King's quick temper and his deep grief for her mother. But if Laigil could be easily frightened into inaction, it was Málissë's way to be forthright. He had survived the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the fall of his city and the third Kinslaying in Arvernien. He was a warrior by trade; to hesitate was to die.
And so he privately resolved to speak to her father that very evening on the matter, for he saw that Laigil would delay this until the child she carried told the truth to all. That he could not abide, for it seemed cowardly and unworthy of the lady to abandon her to this fate, though it might be of her own making. Suggesting that they should mingle, and not be too long absent from the merrymaking, Málissë persuaded Laigil to return to the clearing. A minstrel had begun the long Lay of Leithian, and while his beloved absorbed herself in the song, Málissë sought the King.
"If I might speak to you in private, sire." He followed Oropher to his library, unadorned except by a beautifully rendered portrait. Málissë assumed that the subject was the much-lamented Anórieth. The ascetic surroundings contrasted sharply with Thranduil's luxurious furnishings, Málissë noted, realizing that the son he had come to know well would offer few clues to the temperament of the father.
"This will be our final journey of the year," he began, deciding it best to handle matters of business first. "We will likely leave Tharbad at the New Year, or perhaps shortly before, for as you know, the winters there are shorter. My return thither is necessary, though it is not my wish, for I leave my heart here, in your home." He paused. "Laigil has become dear to me, and as she shares my affection, it is our wish to be bound one to the other."
Oropher looked coldly upon the Noldo. "I have extended my hospitality to you, though your people have done grave injury to mine, and you repay me by seducing my daughter?"
Málissë was not favored by an even temper. "Recall that it was an elf of Doriath who brought my city to ruin, lord." From the village below he could hear the minstrel tell of that place and of another pair of star-crossed lovers in the distant past. "But it does us no good to blame one another for actions for which neither of us, nor our close kin, are responsible," he continued, swallowing his anger. "And it is unfair to your daughter to suggest that she might be seduced or enchanted beyond her will, for she knows her own mind."
Oropher considered this. "In the latter you speak rightly, and respectfully of my daughter. Yet, I am wary. You have known each other only a short time," he hedged.
"In truth, lord, I have known your daughter much longer, from your years in Tharbad -." He broke off, as Oropher's expression darkened.
"I see that I have been deceived." He called to an elf waiting outside. "Galion,** summon my children."
"I am grieved enough that this Golodh* should take advantage of my good will," Oropher began, when Galion had returned with his son and daughters, "but more so that my own children should use the guise of trade and put my people at risk for such wholly selfish ends."
"If we have been less than frank with you, it is your own doing," Thranduil said curtly.
Oropher held up a hand to silence him. "What is done is done, but my trust is shaken. As for you," he turned to Málissë, "you will wait long before I will consent to my daughter's betrothal to one who has proved faithless."
"And if we had been forthright from the beginning, you would still find a pretext to keep us apart. This has nothing to do with Málissë and everything to do with your hatred of his people!" Laigil accused.
Oropher looked at his daughter pityingly. "It is not that I overlook your happiness, Laigil. But a dog proved vicious shall eventually turn on its master. If he would treat with your father thus, be warned that he will do likewise with you, once you are in his grasp."
"Hear your daughter's words, lord. Your bias impairs your judgment. You do not know me enough to cast such aspersions on my honor."
"You have no honor," Oropher responded. "You are not welcome in my home or lands. You will be gone from here when morning breaks."
"Why is he so unreasonable? Naneth* herself was half-Noldor, we are a quarter," Laigil fumed in the privacy of her rooms.
"Ai, Laigil, he will never forgive them the loss of our mother, and he will never forgive himself for failing to heed your warning and sending you both to Menegroth. But most of all, he distrusts them, for even the children of Finarfin placed loyalty to Fëanor's sons over loyalty to their own mother's kin and to the Belain.**"
"That he must overcome, for your child is a Noldo, and an innocent," Berinaeth said softly, laying her hand on her sister's arm, having guessed the burden she bore.
Thranduil looked stricken. "Perhaps my father is right to judge you faithless," he turned on Málissë.
"Of faithfulness you are perhaps not the best judge, lord," the captain answered in kind.
"Nuitho hin!* I will hear no more of this bickering. It is unseemly of you both." Laigil sat down miserably. Such confrontations made her sick at heart. It was not in her nature to act contrary to her father's wishes and the conventions of her people. It seemed that every choice she made led her deeper into this tangle of deceit.
Berinaeth glared at Thranduil and Málissë. "Out! You are neither of you doing her any good." When the two had retreated before her wrath, she turned again to Laigil. "You must tell your father. He shall see that you are bound in the eyes of the Belain, and whatever his faults may be, he is righteous, and keeps the laws they have made for us."
In the meantime, two rather shamed elves found a bottle of wine that survived the feasting of the evening, and soon came to a truce between brothers. "I will speak to my father in the morning. He is angry now, but he will be less so, and shall see that there is little to be done in any case, though I dare say he will harbor some grief toward you in this matter."
"Nay, it is best that I take my leave. I do not wish to inflame him further; it upsets your sister, and I must in any case return to Tharbad."
~~~
Oropher passed a sleepless night, for he now regretted his temper. The coldness of Thingol, who would send his daughter's love to his death, or trade her hand for a cursed jewel, haunted him. It was a much-humbled King who made his way to his own daughter's rooms, only to meet his son in the corridor.
"She is gone," Thranduil said flatly, an accusing fire in his eyes. "You have driven her away with this unforgiving hatred you harbor. Your desire for redress of age-old wrongs will destroy you and us with you. It will not bring my mother back."
"Laigil will be found. She must be with him, and the caravans travel slowly," Oropher murmured prayerfully. Yet, a question of the guards who watched the path revealed that the Noldor had left the citadel at first light, and Laigil had not been with them. A look of shared horror passed between father and son as they realized that she had gone by the other way, and therefore had traveled alone by night. Oropher needed no reminder of the fell creatures that prowled under cover of darkness; in his mind, he saw a dozen terrible fates for his daughter.
The caravans had long left the village below the citadel. Absorbed in his concerns, Málissë did not see Laigil until they passed her on the path. The captain signaled a halt, to the dismay of his group, for they were weary of the road and had yet many leagues to go.
"I mean to come with you. But we must hurry, for it is certain that I am already looked for."
"How came it that you were not seen to leave?"
"I left by night - there is a secret way."
"Laigil, you should not have done this. These woods are not safe at night. Even in his anger your father was not so heartless as to bid us depart until light."
"I have lived in the woods nearly all my life."
"But the woods near Tharbad did not conceal orcs and wolves." He looked away down the path, innocent in the bright morning. His heart would steal his love away as she bid; his better sense warned him against this. "I know you love your father, and I would not take you from him or from your people, nor would I have you bear our child among those who are strange to you."
Before Laigil could press her case, silent archers materialized from the forest. Brónalm stepped forward. "The King bids the return of his daughter and the captain."
"Our captain is no subject of your King, but answers to the High King of our people. He has done no wrong to be thus taken."
"It is right, Húlarn. I will go with them, for I have unfinished business here. Take my place and go forth, for winter does not tarry and you must make haste.
"If that be your will," Málissë continued, turning to Laigil, who nodded her assent. Brónalm followed silently behind the pair, his sight fastened firmly on the interloper. His allegiance to his King and his King's family was absolute, and he allowed the Noldo to walk freely only by Oropher's orders. By leading Laigil into danger, Málissë had earned his wrath, and it would be many years before the Cûcherdir*would forgive the captain.
Oropher met them on the winding path that led to the citadel and held his daughter silently, thanking Elbereth that she was unharmed. "Come, it seems there is much we have not discussed."
When all had been gathered, Laigil summoned her courage and spoke first. "Adar, you have my love and loyalty as your daughter, but I have seen well over a millennium in years of the sun and I am no longer a child you can order about. I will follow my heart in this, though it may part us." She trembled slightly at her strong words, but her pale grey eyes did not waver from her father's face.
"Laigil, sell alag, vell nîn!* You must think little of your father that I would sunder myself from you rather than see you bound in opposition to my will." He turned a slightly stern look on Málissë, "it seems we are past the time of betrothal, but perhaps we may have you properly bound."
Thranduil smiled gratefully at his wife. While he and Brónalm had taken different paths to waylay the caravans, Berinaeth had worked wonders with his father. Now Oropher placed the hand of his daughter in that of her beloved and spoke the words of the simple ceremony** that had been custom among the Laegrim* since Doriath was strong.
"Estam Aran Einior, Aran e-Thûl Gardh. Lasto nan-gwaedh hen." ["We call (the) Elder King (Manwë), King of the Breath of Arda. Hear this oath."]
"Estam Elbereth Gilthoniel. Lasto nan-gwaedh hen," Berinaeth invoked the star-goddess. ["We call Elbereth Star-kindler. Hear this oath."]
"Daer vilui nîn, an nen gwedhin im," Laigil followed. Ordinarily, the groom would speak next, but she knew Málissë would be unfamiliar with this ceremony. ["My loving groom, to you I bind me."]
"Dineth vilui nîn, an nen gwedhin im." ["My loving bride, to you I bind me."]
"A Belain! Tangado i erthad hen im Hîn Eru. Tiro den, togo den a berio den. 'Alu lîn anno a cherth dîn a nan-hîn ennin o erthad dîn," Oropher finished. ["O Valar! Affirm this union between Children of Eru. Watch over them, lead them and protect them. Your blessings, give to their household and to the children born of their union."]
"Let there be no more secrets among us."
1250 Second Age, Forlond
Gil-galad considered the news from his kinswoman carefully. That something evil arose in Arda, he had known for some time. But he did not know if this Annatar** was its servant or master, or if Annatar was even connected to this evil. He had turned away Annatar's representatives, and most recently the Maia himself, and Círdan, too, had spurned him, but Gil-galad had no cause but vague ill feelings. Now he spoke against him in Eregion, giving the High King concrete reason to be wary of Annatar. Galadriel** could not recall him among the Maiar she had known in Aman; she knew far more of such matters than he. Clearly, Annatar brewed trouble and discontent. That an elf, who had dwelt in Aman and might therefore be more wise, had fallen under his spell was disquieting. If Celebrimbor might be so easily deceived, how then would lesser elves such as the Sindar who ruled in Belfalas** and Eryn Galen resist? And those lords were predisposed to distrust the King of the Noldor; Celebrimbor he had counted an ally.
He must let Galadriel and Celeborn handle the trouble in Eregion, as well as they might. Lest it spread, however, he thought to warn the other elves in Eriador and the lands beyond - a sticky matter, as most were neither his people nor had he authority in their lands. For this, he would rely on his most trusted counselor.
"Elrond, I have a task for you."
1250 Second Age, Erin Galen
Amon Lanc rose sharply above the forest, a fortress unassailable by stealth. Wild flowers and small scrub covered the steep inclines. In the rocky soil, few other plants would grow, even on the flat hilltop. There the citadel had been made, fortified in Lenwë's time by dwarven stonemasons. It was old even as elves reckoned; all that the Eldar** had made before Morgoth's defeat was now lost, but Amon Lanc still bloomed each spring.
The approach was unguarded, but a single path made the ascent from the ground, and on the naked slopes, with no trees for cover, any who took the path must be seen from the ramparts of the citadel. Only birds of flight could otherwise scale the steep hill. The lone path, then, would be well watched, Elrond knew, and he was not surprised when a blond elf and his guard emerged from a sharp turn in the path.
"Daro!* What brings you to Erin Galen, stranger?"
"Tegin hiniath o chîr nîn, i Daur Gil-galad.*"
"Buiam ú-chîr dan Aran vîn.* What business has the King of the Noldor with the elves of the wood?"
"I would speak on this to your King. It is a matter of some discretion."
Caunolas nodded at his guard. "Let them go forth." He walked swiftly up the hill before the delegation, forcing the visitors to scramble behind him, and passed through the gates of the walled citadel atop the hill. The young elf was careful to show in his manner and voice that the High King carried no weight here. His grandfather had taught him well. "I will see if the King will speak with you."
Elrond knew already that his kinsmen did not share his regard for the High King. If they were truly hostile to Forlond, Annatar would find willing ears at Amon Lanc. And many, many elves, for though he thought himself ignored by the High King, Oropher held in his sway a significant portion of the elves remaining in Arda. Precisely for these reasons had Gil-galad chosen Elrond to handle this matter. Not only did he have faith in the Peredhel's skill, but also he hoped that the heir to Thingol's lost kingdom might yet hold some influence with the Sindarin king.
Thus, this diplomacy was delicate - if Oropher sensed that the High King attempted to usurp his authority, he might be made more susceptible to Annatar's words against Gil-galad. Worse, he might seek out the Maia in hope of overthrowing Gil-galad.
Elrond was not reassured by the cold look of suspicion cast upon him by the King of Erin Galen. Nonetheless, Oropher sent Galion to see to the delegation and their horses and greeted his kinsman politely.
Elrond told him of the visitor distrusted by both his King and, perhaps more persuasive to Oropher, by Círdan. "It is his claim that he is a Maia sent by the Valar to aid us, but we are told that in Eregion he has been no friend to either the High King or Círdan."
"And Gil-galad would count his friends, and win allies against this threat," Oropher surmised.
"He would warn his kindred that Annatar is not all that he seems."
"What leads your King to distrust him? Is he not a Maia?"
"He is. But it is not our experience that the Valar send messengers to set the Eldar against one another. Even when the Exiles came hither, under the Doom of Mandos, the Valar did nothing to warn the Sindar against them."
"Indeed. To the great suffering of many innocents."
"Myself among them, Oropher."
The King acknowledged this with a nod. "You may tell your King that we are neither his ally nor his enemy, and wish to have no part in the intrigues of our kindred in the west. Nor will we harbor those who would sow discord in other realms, and thereby jeopardize our peace."
Elrond decided that he had accomplished as much as he could hope.
"You and your company are welcome to tarry here ere you begin your long journey back."
Elrond quickly accepted the unlooked for offer. A day or two in the citadel might give him a better measure of this people and their King.
"You may be interested to know that this Annatar has already passed through here," Oropher added, as the elf-lord turned to leave.
Elrond raised his eyebrow inquiringly.
"I did not receive him.** Even my young grandson knows malicious intent when it stands before him. He would not admit him to the citadel."
'At least I may tell Gil-galad that if he would not be received warmly here, he should at least be well-fed,' Elrond thought dryly, enjoying the fine feast laid before him; it seemed that the King's son was a bit of a gourmand. After the meal and some melodic singing by the Wood Elves, he hastened toward his rooms, for together with their journey through the forest, it had been a long day. He was, however, hailed by Thranduil.
"Herdir* Elrond! Would you walk with me?"
He nodded his assent, and the elf-lord led him to the ramparts of the citadel. It was a marvelous view. In the distance, Elrond could pick out the dark water of the Anduin, and a few lights in the Vale, where the simple but honest Northmen lived. The shadow of Hithaeglir towered high against the elenath*.
Moved, Elrond spoke softly. "They seem almost brighter here than in the west."
"My father says that it is the influence of the wood folk, for more than all other elves they keep the Lady sacred in their hearts and love the stars as deeply as all of the Quendi did once at Cuiviénen.**"
Elrond was mildly surprised to hear the Quenya words.
"Doriath is no more," Thranduil continued, as though he perceived the other elf's thoughts. "I cannot say that I am fond of the Golodhrim, or Gódhellim,* if you prefer. There is an air of superiority about them that I do not like. Pride is blinding. But so too is hate."
"You speak wisely, Hîl Oropher.*"
"Do not misjudge my father. He lost much at the hands of the Kinslayers, and it is not in his nature to forgive easily. But he cares deeply for his people, and though he will not ally himself with the High King, he will not permit this shadow to taint them. Already we have troubles with the fell creatures and men who followed Morgoth. Whether this Annatar is connected to them or merely another trouble, I do not know, but he reeks of the Bauglir.* My sister did not like the air when he tried to come here, and said it felt as if a shadow had fallen away when he left."
Elrond decided to be candid. "He is very powerful, that we know. And he has had success in Eregion. There he has been welcomed. Celebrimbor is hardly naïve, nor, I think, does he share the depravity of his father. But pride, as you say, is a fault in the Noldor and in Fëanor's descendants more so.
"It is not known to us whether Annatar is a part of the shadow or not," Elrond continued. "But the shadow is real. And you may find that you cannot shun Lindon forever. The fate of all elves may rest in our unity. This lesson was taught with great loss of life in the Elder Days."
Thranduil turned from the ramparts to look directly at Elrond. "Your King may rest easy that the wood folk shall not take up arms against their kindred, not while my father leads them, nor will we ally ourselves with the shadow. But it is nearer to us, and we have troubles that yet do not cross Hithaeglir. We may be imperiled before you are, and our first concern must be our own people and lands."
1600 Second Age, Ost-in-Edhil
The smith wearily removed his apron, brushing soot and mithril filings from his hair and face. Uneasy, he glanced about him in the dark House of the Mírdain. "Hîren,* is there naught else you require?" a servant asked, startling the lord of Eregion.
"Nay, you may leave."
He heard the servant depart by the distant door, and all was silent again. He turned to follow, still uneasy, when the air at once took on weight, and eddied about him in quicksilver's macabre animation. A roar of wind filled his head. His hand - no, the ring, Vilya, burned into his flesh, and a scratching whisper filled the thickened space about him: "One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them."**
Celebrimbor tore the ring of air from his seared finger, crying "Sauron!"
1602 Second Age, Lindórinand
In hope of rapprochement with his estranged kinsman, Malgalad sent tidings to Celeborn and Galadriel, inviting them to the naming ceremony of his first child. As was the custom among the descendants of Elmo, he had given his son a tree-name, Ambrethil. When the elf-child grew a bit older, and revealed his delight in tree climbing and high places, the name would be shortened to Amroth.
As for the ancient lord and his lady, they had returned to Eregion after a long stay in Lindon. Celeborn was pleased to mend relations with his brother-son. They had once been close, when Malgalad was a child. Few remained of his close kin, and though he loved his fiery cousin, their troubled history had kept them apart; he hardly knew Oropher's family. It was imperative, however, that he speak to his cousin regarding the matter that had brought him back to Eregion and chilled his heart, even on this happy occasion. Retiring from the feast to the rooms Oropher occupied during his rare visits to Lindórinand, he turned the conversation toward the growing shadow in the east.
"Celeborn, what has only been rumor and tale of travelers to you has long been known to us here. You need not tell me that dark times have arrived. I have six elves in our healer's quarters with poisoned wounds. Three I shall likely lose. We hear the wolves howl at night, prowling the village below the citadel. Malgalad can tell you of his troubles. He has moved his people nearly to the edge of the Anduin to escape the orcs who have taken up residence in the mountains. And they are multiplying fast. It is certain that they prepare for war." Oropher took up a decanter and began to pour.
"Circumstances have changed, my cousin. There has been a stroke of which you are not yet aware. I come not to challenge your authority, but to do what I can to help you."
"And thereby bring us under obligation to your King."
Celeborn took the proffered glass of wine from his cousin. "In fact, it may be the other way around. If orcs prepare for war, lands to the west are those in jeopardy. Much harm has been done in Eregion. Celebrimbor was much deceived. For we know now the true face of the Maia Annatar, who in Beleriand we called Gorthaur.*"
Oropher grimaced. "These are ill tidings you bring. But surely even the son of Curufin would not ally himself with Morgoth's lieutenant."
"Nay, his mistake weighs heavily upon him. His intentions were good. But things of which I may not speak freely have augmented the power of Gorthaur, and he would surely turn first upon Eregion."
"And if left in peace, orcs breed quickly. You would have my people harry and hinder them. That we will not do. We drive them from my realm, and we help the men in the Vale as we can. But I will not bring my people down a path that must surely lead to war; certainly, not for the sake of the King of the Noldor."
"They must be restrained by Gorthaur. He would not wish them to attack the elves until he is ready."
"Nay, I know more of these filthy creatures than you, my cousin. We had little threat of them in Doriath, and you have lived far from them in the west. They are thralls to their dark lord - they do not love him but fear him, and hate elves above all. If pressed, they will come against us in force, whether Gorthaur wills it or no. We are but a simple folk here. My people know the woods, and I would match their bows against the finest archers of your King's army, but their skills are in stealth and watchfulness, not open warfare.
"I brought my family and our people to mingle with the Wood Elves far from Lindon to be free from exactly this," Oropher continued. "The Noldor seem to have a talent for stirring this sort of trouble. What have they done now, that you must hide from me in the hopes of gaining my help?"
"I am not at liberty to speak on such things."
Oropher allowed himself a grim smile; it was not often that he outwitted his cousin. Celeborn had all but revealed that whatever the Noldor had been up to in Eregion, it had been to the benefit of Gorthaur. "If Gil-galad is so concerned that Gorthaur prepares for war, why does he not assail him now?"
"The High King may be accused of underestimating Annatar. For a century, he has been quiet, and none knew his identity until now. We are not prepared for war. We need time." Celeborn stared into the fire, the foreboding in his heart as insistent as ever. He had counseled the High King to be forthright with his kindred at least, if not Númenor, regarding the rings of power. His cousin, he knew, would be quick to blame the Noldor for this debacle - as he did already - but he would be wise enough to see that the One Ring imperiled them all.
1697 Second Age, Lindórinand
Malgalad looked pityingly on the battle-worn elves. He would have liked to be angry with Celeborn for bringing these Gelydh* to his land, but he could only find sympathy. He remembered too well their flight from Doriath. Many of the elves were anxious for their kin, hoping that they had escaped with Elrond. They had no way to learn of their fate. Others already grieved, the lone survivors of their families. Their city lost, they stood with Celeborn and Galadriel and the dwarves of Khazad-dûm, distracting Sauron's forces so that Elrond and the refugees might escape. They had backed into the dwarven city and shut the doors against Sauron, and made the long journey through the mountain to Lindórinand.
The Noldorination of Lindórinand had begun.
Not all welcomed the arrival of Celeborn and Galadriel, or those who had followed them. The Sindar had come to them desiring to preserve the Wood Elves' way of life. Indeed, they had lived so long among the Laegrim that some had never known any other way. The Sindar brought their knowledge of the Valar and Elven history, and a written language and smiths who could make tools and weapons of metal. But there was an exchange of information. Though Oropher and his family already knew much wood lore, and were respectful of Silvan customs regarding the harvesting of trees and hunting of beasts for food, they had much to learn in this new place. Nor did they look upon the elves of Erin Galen as mere vassals. Brónalm and a handful of others counted among the King's close counselors.
The Noldor lived in their great past; their songs and stories told of Aman and the great battles of the Elder Days. The culture already present among the Wood Elves they dismissed. Galadriel had long desired a realm to rule as her own, but she was not insensitive to Malgalad's claim. It was not her intent to usurp Celeborn's brother-son. She installed herself in Lindórinand with a mind toward guiding the land through troubled times, and Malgalad appreciated her wisdom, though he might have felt otherwise had he known the danger Galadriel brought to his land. However, among the Noldor, she was their ruler. The Wood Elves were awed by Galadriel, but loyal to their lord, and were not so simpleminded as the Noldor believed. The newcomers quietly supplanted them in the arenas of power, not by intent but habit - to lead was the Noldorin birthright. It was during this uneasy time that the Wood Elves came to call Malgalad their King, and Galadriel, hoping that a shift toward independence would mend the rift among the peoples of Lindórinand and weaken ties to her husband's hostile cousin, supported this.
None of this sat easily with the hostile cousin. Oropher distrusted Galadriel. He saw her ambition, and feared it would not be long before his own realm was threatened. The years had not lessened Oropher's antipathy toward her; rather, he condemned her more since her refusal to ask the pardon of the Valar. She had done no wrong, she insisted, though at very least she had conspired to hide the deeds of the Kinslayers from Thingol. This secret had weighed heavy on the heart of Anórieth's grandfather, Angrod. Unlike his sister, he could not keep his silence, for his kinship to his mother's people he placed before loyalty to Fëanor's sons.
As for Lindórinand, even if Malgalad asked for his help, he could do but little. He could not force Galadriel and his cousin from the land. He would not pit elf against elf, and in any event, he retained loyalty to Celeborn. More troubles bothered him. Khazad-dûm, having shut its door on Gorthaur, was flexing its strength, and Galadriel had called upon them to help defend the crossing at Parth Celebrant. But one more fear finally drove him to the decision to move deeper into the forest. The war, what little news they had of the lands to the west, went poorly for the elves. Those who lived in the citadel were well-protected, but the scattered villages of Oropher's people were not, and they were too close to the orcs' stronghold in the mountains and to the open plains south of the forest, where resided men easily bought by Gorthaur.
If his kindred in the west had hope, it lay in their enemy's divided attention. Though he did not bring open warfare against the elves of the Vale and wood, many of Gorthaur's servants remained beyond the mountains. They directed most of their efforts against Lindórinand, with its remnant of the Noldor of Eregion, and against Khazad-dûm, perhaps in retaliation, but Oropher suspected that Gorthaur had a specific purpose. The Maia had been thus far too patient and cautious to now waste energy on revenge, especially when his strength seemed frighteningly unassailable. Gorthaur wanted something.
Númenor came in the High King's hour of need, and by 1700, they had driven Gorthaur from Eriador and he had returned to the east to lick his wounds. But he was not defeated. Oropher's folk could not ignore the brooding presence too near their lands. The orcs who had deserted their dark lord in defeat looked for victory elsewhere. Lindórinand, for the moment, was united, for both the Silvan and Noldorin factions were equally fervent in their hatred of orcs. Unhappy with his own security, Oropher moved his people again. This he intended to be temporary, for they lived much as the Laegrim had lived many centuries earlier, well-hidden in the trees and without permanent dwellings. Thranduil he sent north with Brónalm to the Emyn Duir.* He intended to build a stronghold in the hills, for there they would be deep in the forest and far from the orc caves in Hithaeglir. There were dark times ahead for the men and elves of the Vale and the forest; Oropher needed not the warnings of his daughter or his cousin to see this.
2250 Second Age, Emyn Duir
Their new home in the Emyn Duir had been carefully concealed. Even an elf had to be nearly upon them before he could make out the huts and outbuildings in the glens of the hills. Under the cover of night, orcs, despite their keen night vision, could locate the elves only by smell, and by then, they would be spotted by their prey. Moreover, the Wood Elves, possessors of a primitive sort of magic,** had woven spells to confuse the noses of the orcs, leading them into a well-fortified trap.
No paths did they make to their new home, and like the hidden cities of the Noldor an age ago, their strongest defense was secrecy. No orc would retreat alive. But orcs rarely came so near to them - the men in the Vale were easier pickings for their raids.
In these circumstances, Berinaeth felt secure enough to bear a second child. Like the mother-name given to her first child, she took part of the name of their House and combined it with the traits she saw in her child. Caunolas had been a bit of a play on words; 'caun' might signify valor, and he had indeed grown into a brave leader and warrior, but it also meant 'shouts and clamor', which had suited her energetic eldest, especially as a child. For Innolas, she foresaw a different role. He would wield words as an instrument of peace and diplomacy, and his knowledge of lore and language would begin to heal some of the prejudices of his family.
2300 Second Age, Emyn Duir
Quick of mind and insatiably curious, Innolas had easily exhausted their small library and his tutor was at a loss. Having imparted most of her own learning, she found her pupil yet desiring more. "He really must be sent elsewhere to continue his studies," Helluin told the young elf's father. "There is little more that I can teach him."
Thranduil saw that it would be foolish to waste his son's talents. Even in the Wilderland, the wisdom of a loremaster was as important as the skill of a warrior in rule of a kingdom. If in many ways they lived the simple life of the wood folk, they were nonetheless of the Eldar, and the desire for learning was deeply rooted in their souls. But where might they find a suitable mentor? Few tutors would come to their distant land; most resided at the Havens, the cultural nexus of their world. Or, more specifically, at the court of the High King, and to send his son thither was out of the question.
Berinaeth was of like mind "What of Imladris?" she suggested to her husband. "It is said that many learned elves have settled there."
"Most of them Noldor."
"They are the only ones who can teach him the High Speech."
"My father will not like that."
"Nevertheless, he must learn it. There are scores of books in the libraries at Forlond written in it," she said wistfully. "And I learned too little of it to be of any real help."
Thranduil looked at his wife with suspicion, but could not help a slight smile at her audacity. "I leave it to you, then, to smooth the way with my father," he finished, standing. "Preferably before our youngest demonstrates your limited recall of Quenya before his grandfather." Berinaeth's suggestion would be a fair compromise. Elrond, he thought, had made a favorable impression on his father, and Oropher could hardly object to the guidance of Dior's grandson.
With his father and Faunil, the latter along mostly to accompany Thranduil on his return - for it was not deemed wise for any elf to travel alone - Innolas set forth for Imladris not long after his coming of age. The elves came over the Redhorn Pass, a longer route than the High Pass, but Malgalad's people kept the Redhorn open and unmolested by orcs. It was the first time Innolas had crossed Hithaeglir - the farthest he had been from home had been to the Vale with his father. Even his older brother, who was often away from home, ranging far with their cousin Nórui on the trail of orcs and wolves, had not crossed the mountains since he had come to Eryn Galen as a child. It was Thranduil's habit to keep his sons near to him. He had long had a premonition that left to go too far, they might leave their home forever.
The beauty of Elrond's settlement astonished the young elf. From a besieged fortress during the war, it had become, over the last six hundred years, a place of reflection, rest and intellectual pursuit. Innolas was grateful to be given this opportunity to continue his studies. His tempestuous brother could hardly look at a book without yawning, but the well-chosen word, the one word that might convey exactly what he meant, thrilled Innolas as the dispatch of an orc might rouse his brother. He was one of the few among the Sindar who had managed to learn Silvan, though the language was dying even among its native speakers, and like most of his people, as a child he had learned the Rohirric dialect of the Northmen. He had come to love what little his mother had taught him of Quenya most, however. Though it was close to his native Sindarin, the ornate rules of grammar alone seemed to raise it to its status as a ceremonial language. To his ears it did not have the soft sound of his own tongue, but seemed harder, more precise in its pronunciation.
Left to his own devices while Faunil saw to their accommodations and his sire spoke with the lord of Imladris, Innolas explored the silent halls. At home there was always the noise of an extended family sharing close quarters - the friendly arguments between Caunolas and Nórui, the sonorous voice of Málissë, settling the arguments in hope of a moment's peace, Laigil's fair voice raised in song, his grandfather shouting about some event that had angered or excited him. Innolas did not think he would dare to raise his voice above a whisper in this house. In the Hall of Fire, he saw a few elves sitting in quiet contemplation or reading from well-handled books. The vast library startled him, for he had never seen so many books; he had no idea that so many existed. Here, more serious effort was at hand. Elves had made use of every flat surface for the work of transcribing and translation, and here, at last, was noise, of the scratching of quills and occasional murmurs of discovery or disgust or puzzlement emitted by the elves as they worked. Many looked up briefly as Innolas entered their domain, and a few pairs of eyes stared hard at him before returning to their work.
The young Sinda saw now Málissë's isolation as the lone Noldo among their clan - for even Nórui was, as her father put it, as 'untamed as a Wood Elf'. Some of the Noldor were as haughty as his grandfather claimed, and had little to do with the visitors from Eryn Galen. Others were more welcoming, but though Innolas was usually not shy, he stayed near to his father and the equally abashed Faunil until their departure. He felt awkward and unpolished in this place.
2326 Second Age, Imladris
"So you take your leave soon."
Innolas looked up from his book. He had acquired more than a score during his sojourn, and expected much good-natured grousing from his brother when the heavy volumes had to be transported back to the Emyn Duir. "I await the arrival of my brother and cousin - they are expected by the end of the week, at latest," he replied. The elf was strange to him; Innolas assumed that he had been the visitor who had arrived late the night before.
"You are eager to return?"
"I miss my kin," Innolas admitted. "And it is lovely here, but it is not home."
The elf smiled. "And I hate to be too long away from here, though it is not my home. Such peace is not found in Forlond. But tell me of your wood folk, for I have never seen such elves."
The younger elf felt a pang of homesickness. "They are a merry folk, happy enough to while away their time at feasting and dancing, even in such dark times - though I should not know any other times," he added, painfully aware of his youth. "But so long as you do not cut their trees or upset the creatures in the forest, they are genial enough."
"You have yet much trouble from these fell things of Sauron in the east." A flicker of something akin to guilt passed over the elf's features.
"Aye, though I am told we were more threatened when we lived further south. Now we must be watchful when we travel, but our dwellings are well hidden."
"We lived so at Nargothrond, when I was yet younger than you. But there we lived underground, as your grandfather's kin did in Doriath. I went once there with my grandfather, though I was then a small child, and remember little, save that I was very frightened of Thingol. He was the tallest elf I had ever seen - some say he was the tallest of all our kind - and he moved about quite brusquely. I feared I should be trampled underfoot."
Innolas laughed. "My father has said the same of him. It must have been a fascinating time in which to live."
The dark-haired elf frowned. "Do not let my people deceive you. They speak now with longing of those days, but they forget the sorrows. Your ancestors, who were called wise, nonetheless brought about their own ruin." He smiled, "Save Círdan, that is. I do not think he has ever done anything unwise or selfish.
"Many great princes of Finwë's House came here in Exile, but all perished and left no heirs, apart from Turgon, in whose descendant's house we now speak, and Angrod, whose line shall continue only through his daughter, I think." The elf paused, his sight fixed on something far beyond their idyllic surroundings. "And perhaps that is best. The Noldor have not the simple pleasure in Arda that is the gift of the Sindar; we are too rigid to accept the changes made by men, and too regretful to find joy, as your Silvan people do, even under the shadow."
A messenger interrupted them, and after a moment of quiet conversation, the strange elf nodded to the young Sinda and was gone. Much of what he had heard Innolas knew, or had learned during his stay at Imladris. The follies of both the Sindar and Noldor had inspired his grandfather to seek semi-autonomy in Doriath and to move his family ever eastward during the Middle Days. Yet, the legacy of Innolas' ancestors was inescapable. Though they had shunned the Eldar and adopted the ways of their mostly Avarin people, they were, nonetheless, part of the complicated web that connected the first families of the elves, those chosen to lead the Firstborn as kings and loremasters.
~~~
Caunolas and Nórui arrived as expected, and an unlucky packhorse was selected to bear Innolas' books. The elven horse tossed his mane at the other horses, clearly pointing out that he bore as much weight as his brethren who carried riders. The elves laughed at the display of horse hierarchy. "One wonders what they would do if we switched the pack to Bund-thâr and Innolas rode Cóllain," Nórui speculated on their third day of the journey.
Caunolas, being more adventurous - or perhaps more foolhardy - than his father, had chosen the High Pass for their return, but their ride over the sometimes perilous - but breathtakingly beautiful - route was uneventful.
"Something is keeping the orcs quiet of late," Caunolas noted, there having been no sign of the ugly creatures on the pass. "The men in the Vale have some respite, though they are nervous, and speak of something foul from the north."
"But Sauron** abodes in the south, or so it is thought."
Caunolas looked briefly at his brother, responding to the dark lord's Quenya name. "You have been long away from home, my brother. But indeed, we determined to see the gardens of the Entwives after delivering wine to Lindórinand last summer, and in the south of the Wilderland the shadow is stronger, and the men more evil."
"I should have liked to have seen such gardens. Brónalm has spoken much of the Entwives."
"You must come with us the next time we go," Nórui suggested. "And Lindórinand, that you must see, for it is much changed. They have planted a new tree there, a tree that does not lose its leaves in the winter but remains golden from fall to spring. Some have commenced to call it Lórinand, in honor of the golden trees."
"But not all are pleased," Caunolas interjected sharply. "Amroth tells me that the wood folk love the mallorns,** but warn that the lack of mulch on the ground over the winter is bad for the soil and grass. Some of the smaller plants have disappeared, and the Noldor cut maples and oaks to replace them with the golden trees. Of course, such things do not trouble Galadriel; even Celeborn has tried to tell her of these problems, but she understands nothing of the ways of the wood."
It was early evening, and they had made good time since breaking camp on the pass. They thought to stop in a dense thicket along the dwarf road to the forest, but as they drew near, the three elves felt a chill in the air, odd for the warm summer evening.
"Something I do not like is in the air," Caunolas murmured, his elven senses alert but gathering nothing he could see or hear.
Nórui agreed. "We are watched, but by what, I cannot say. It is not orcs or wolves. This thing is more powerful." The horses were skittish and unnerved; clearly, they felt this, too.
"Let us go on to Laffirien, though night falls." As they drew nearer the bridge,** the fell shadow lessened. If they had been watched, they had not been pursued.
~~~
For he would not pursue elves - they and all that was elven was an abomination to the creature. He had not the power over them that he had over other beings, even less over children of the Eldar, of ancient and noble bloodlines. He could cleave and kill them with his sword, but so might their elven blades do the same to him, and the terror wrought by a wraith in thralldom to the Dark Lord did not daunt immortal beings. So he watched, and he waited, and when they were well past, he continued his journey to the little-used pass at the Gladden River, for into Eriador, from the dominion he had long held in the north, was he called by his King.**
Lots of endnotes, I'm afraid - we know so little about the Second Age, and even less about Oropher and Thranduil, so I felt obliged to show what scant reasoning I had behind some of the events in this chapter
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Tolkien with the exception of original characters needed to fill out Oropher's family tree or move the story along. Translations of Elvish words and additional notes are found at the end of the chapter.
Spring - 932 Second Age, Eryn Galen
"Adar*, they wish only to be allowed passage through our land and the crossing at Parth Celebrant. We are obliged to do nothing in the event of an attack upon the caravans." In the privacy of Oropher's library, father and son discussed the proposal of the emissary from Tharbad. The High King, it seemed, missed his Dorwinion wines and was determined to restore the eastern trade route.
Such involvement in the doings of other peoples ran against Oropher's inclinations. Thranduil insisted that they must have friendship with the men and strange little Fallohides of the Vale, for they were their neighbors. They were good folk, allies in the vigilance required to keep unwholesome creatures at bay, and with them they bartered for what the Wood Elves could not or would not make. The wine trade, however, was a matter of politics, for which Oropher had little taste. "We shall have bands of thieves lying wait in our forest, and caravans or no, they cannot be ignored. We will have to shake them out for our own security. And Malgalad's folk hold the crossing; they must defend it from outlaws who would hinder trade, for it is too important to us and to the men of the Vale. Why bring such burdens upon ourselves?"
"We shall be well compensated for our part, Adar."
"Be wary, Thranduil, that you do not trade peace for want of gold," the King cautioned.
Thranduil had a ready answer to his father's objections, but paused strategically, pretending to consider the question. "I hope that is not the case. Our peace may depend on such a plan, for we are pressed by Hadhodrond.* The dwarves regret that we have come among the wood folk, as they would not have the elves united in trade with them."
The Noldorin emissary had not expected such resistance from elves. He knew that the men living southeast of the woods would set high the price of their cooperation, as some of their people were the thieves who had nearly destroyed the Dorwinion wine trade. In Eryn Galen, Húlarn expected more cooperation. One might excuse his ignorance of ancient elven grievances; he was young, born in Eregion, and there none were eager to recall enmity for which their lord's father and close kin were largely responsible.
Húlarn had come to Tharbad some twenty years ago, acting as a liaison between the High King's outpost and the men of the town, and like others of his clan, had little contact with Oropher's people before they went east. Now he understood that such isolation had been by design.
The King's son at last returned. "We are prepared to allow passage through our lands, if our kinsman Malgalad in Lindórinand** wills it also. He has taken to wife a princess of that land and we interfere little with the rule of his fief,** and the crossing at Parth Celebrant is held by his people."
As Thranduil had foreseen, mention of the stunted folk, for whom the former subjects and kin of Thingol had no great love, had decided his father in favor of the plan. During their years on the Gwathló, Thranduil had become a shrewd negotiator. Like his late mother, he saw the necessity of maintaining ties to other peoples, even to the dwarves and the Noldor. But wine and gold motivated Thranduil's diplomacy less than a concern dear to his heart - and to the heart of his sister.
"Ah, Cugu,* long have I awaited you and the tidings you bring." The elf-maid took the parchment from the bird's leg and unrolled it carefully. As she started to read, insistent cooing interrupted her. "Alas, my apologies, Cugu, you will want your reward. I was too eager to have news of my captain." Having fed and watered the messenger, Laigil turned again to her letter.
"It is a poor letter, for I was too happy in anticipation of your fair face to pay mind to my writing."
Laigil turned, transported with joy at the sight of the raven-haired elf. "But I did not see you with the others of Tharbad."
"I wished to surprise you, but I did not think it wise to do so in front of your father."
"That indeed would have been awkward." She frowned, recalling the reason for their long separation.
"Let us not speak on this tonight, and be happy in each other's company. Our errand here is finished, and I must move on tomorrow, but if we are as successful with your kinsman in Lindórinand, I shall soon be passing this way regularly in guard of the tradesmen who hope to resume the wine trade. But Laigil, I shall have a silver ring** on your finger before Yule, you may depend on it."
Autumn - 932 Second Age, Eryn Galen
Yule peeked through the gold and red forest, its arrival whispered in the cold winds from the north. Feeling the growing roundness of her belly, Laigil knew that she and her love were long past a decent betrothal. It was her hope that Málissë would soon return, as he had promised in June, with the harvest wines, for she could not much longer conceal her condition.
The elves changed their summer emerald greens for the browns and twilight greens of autumn, and at feasts and when he sat as their King in his hall, Oropher wore a traditional crown of vines, woven with cranberries and red leaves from the turning maple.** It was a busy time for the elves, for no nearby town might provide through a harsh winter. With squirrels, they fought a good-natured battle for nuts, but bears, fat and happy in a forest well tended by the wood folk, were more gracious in sharing the autumn fruits and berries. Trout they caught and salted for preservation, they gathered mushrooms to trade to the Fallohides for gourds and other autumn vegetables, and apples from their orchards were destined to become dwarven cider ale; in return, the elves obtained the iron and mithril needed by their smiths. Soft elven cloth was traded for grains grown by the men in the upper Vale, though the Ivonwin** alone cultivated the special corn used to make lembas.
The completion of the corn harvest marked the beginning of the Autumn Festival, and the Noldor arrived with the promised wines only on the eve of the merrymaking. Already they had completed one journey in the early summer, and this would be the last journey before the New Year arrived with spring, for winter was hard on the plains between Dorwinion and the Fords of Isen. Caught up in the gay mood of the elves as they looked forward to days of feasting and song, Oropher suffered the travelers with relatively good grace; moreover, it would be unthinkably discourteous to turn them away from the celebration.
Laigil watched the dancers, relieved that the planning of such a feast, time-consuming even if one set aside the labor-intensive rituals of the corn harvest, had become Berinaeth's worry. Her sister's efficiency and confidence in delegating duties made the work behind the festival as seamless as the festival itself. As one of the Ivonwin, she had been busy herself, but the work, automatic after a thousand harvests, had been comforting this fall amid her inner turmoil.
"Yavanna** has been extra bountiful this year, I see," a low voice whispered in her ear. Laigil's fair skin blushed pink, but her eyes betrayed her fears. "Melethen,* surely your father cannot be such a tyrant that you are unhappy in this blessed time."
"Nay, but this complicates matters. My father will be very angry." They walked toward the edge of the clearing in the village, and Laigil caught her brother's eye before they slipped away from the festivities. He would make excuses for her should she be looked for.
"I have not told anyone," Laigil confessed.
Málissë found it difficult to reconcile Laigil's anxiety with the silver-haired King, who walked freely among his people at the feast, no circlet of gold but a crown of vines on his head. He had watched Oropher for some time, partly awaiting a moment to bring Laigil away beyond keen elven hearing, and partly to take a measure of the elf who had so long kept them apart. Oropher hardly seemed forbidding or severe. His people were evidently devoted to him and he to them.
In truth, it was Laigil he did not understand well. In this he was not alone, for many failed to understand the timid elf. Her fears of her father's disapproval and disappointment had grown over the years of secrecy, becoming terrible in her mind. She knew well the King's quick temper and his deep grief for her mother. But if Laigil could be easily frightened into inaction, it was Málissë's way to be forthright. He had survived the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the fall of his city and the third Kinslaying in Arvernien. He was a warrior by trade; to hesitate was to die.
And so he privately resolved to speak to her father that very evening on the matter, for he saw that Laigil would delay this until the child she carried told the truth to all. That he could not abide, for it seemed cowardly and unworthy of the lady to abandon her to this fate, though it might be of her own making. Suggesting that they should mingle, and not be too long absent from the merrymaking, Málissë persuaded Laigil to return to the clearing. A minstrel had begun the long Lay of Leithian, and while his beloved absorbed herself in the song, Málissë sought the King.
"If I might speak to you in private, sire." He followed Oropher to his library, unadorned except by a beautifully rendered portrait. Málissë assumed that the subject was the much-lamented Anórieth. The ascetic surroundings contrasted sharply with Thranduil's luxurious furnishings, Málissë noted, realizing that the son he had come to know well would offer few clues to the temperament of the father.
"This will be our final journey of the year," he began, deciding it best to handle matters of business first. "We will likely leave Tharbad at the New Year, or perhaps shortly before, for as you know, the winters there are shorter. My return thither is necessary, though it is not my wish, for I leave my heart here, in your home." He paused. "Laigil has become dear to me, and as she shares my affection, it is our wish to be bound one to the other."
Oropher looked coldly upon the Noldo. "I have extended my hospitality to you, though your people have done grave injury to mine, and you repay me by seducing my daughter?"
Málissë was not favored by an even temper. "Recall that it was an elf of Doriath who brought my city to ruin, lord." From the village below he could hear the minstrel tell of that place and of another pair of star-crossed lovers in the distant past. "But it does us no good to blame one another for actions for which neither of us, nor our close kin, are responsible," he continued, swallowing his anger. "And it is unfair to your daughter to suggest that she might be seduced or enchanted beyond her will, for she knows her own mind."
Oropher considered this. "In the latter you speak rightly, and respectfully of my daughter. Yet, I am wary. You have known each other only a short time," he hedged.
"In truth, lord, I have known your daughter much longer, from your years in Tharbad -." He broke off, as Oropher's expression darkened.
"I see that I have been deceived." He called to an elf waiting outside. "Galion,** summon my children."
"I am grieved enough that this Golodh* should take advantage of my good will," Oropher began, when Galion had returned with his son and daughters, "but more so that my own children should use the guise of trade and put my people at risk for such wholly selfish ends."
"If we have been less than frank with you, it is your own doing," Thranduil said curtly.
Oropher held up a hand to silence him. "What is done is done, but my trust is shaken. As for you," he turned to Málissë, "you will wait long before I will consent to my daughter's betrothal to one who has proved faithless."
"And if we had been forthright from the beginning, you would still find a pretext to keep us apart. This has nothing to do with Málissë and everything to do with your hatred of his people!" Laigil accused.
Oropher looked at his daughter pityingly. "It is not that I overlook your happiness, Laigil. But a dog proved vicious shall eventually turn on its master. If he would treat with your father thus, be warned that he will do likewise with you, once you are in his grasp."
"Hear your daughter's words, lord. Your bias impairs your judgment. You do not know me enough to cast such aspersions on my honor."
"You have no honor," Oropher responded. "You are not welcome in my home or lands. You will be gone from here when morning breaks."
"Why is he so unreasonable? Naneth* herself was half-Noldor, we are a quarter," Laigil fumed in the privacy of her rooms.
"Ai, Laigil, he will never forgive them the loss of our mother, and he will never forgive himself for failing to heed your warning and sending you both to Menegroth. But most of all, he distrusts them, for even the children of Finarfin placed loyalty to Fëanor's sons over loyalty to their own mother's kin and to the Belain.**"
"That he must overcome, for your child is a Noldo, and an innocent," Berinaeth said softly, laying her hand on her sister's arm, having guessed the burden she bore.
Thranduil looked stricken. "Perhaps my father is right to judge you faithless," he turned on Málissë.
"Of faithfulness you are perhaps not the best judge, lord," the captain answered in kind.
"Nuitho hin!* I will hear no more of this bickering. It is unseemly of you both." Laigil sat down miserably. Such confrontations made her sick at heart. It was not in her nature to act contrary to her father's wishes and the conventions of her people. It seemed that every choice she made led her deeper into this tangle of deceit.
Berinaeth glared at Thranduil and Málissë. "Out! You are neither of you doing her any good." When the two had retreated before her wrath, she turned again to Laigil. "You must tell your father. He shall see that you are bound in the eyes of the Belain, and whatever his faults may be, he is righteous, and keeps the laws they have made for us."
In the meantime, two rather shamed elves found a bottle of wine that survived the feasting of the evening, and soon came to a truce between brothers. "I will speak to my father in the morning. He is angry now, but he will be less so, and shall see that there is little to be done in any case, though I dare say he will harbor some grief toward you in this matter."
"Nay, it is best that I take my leave. I do not wish to inflame him further; it upsets your sister, and I must in any case return to Tharbad."
Oropher passed a sleepless night, for he now regretted his temper. The coldness of Thingol, who would send his daughter's love to his death, or trade her hand for a cursed jewel, haunted him. It was a much-humbled King who made his way to his own daughter's rooms, only to meet his son in the corridor.
"She is gone," Thranduil said flatly, an accusing fire in his eyes. "You have driven her away with this unforgiving hatred you harbor. Your desire for redress of age-old wrongs will destroy you and us with you. It will not bring my mother back."
"Laigil will be found. She must be with him, and the caravans travel slowly," Oropher murmured prayerfully. Yet, a question of the guards who watched the path revealed that the Noldor had left the citadel at first light, and Laigil had not been with them. A look of shared horror passed between father and son as they realized that she had gone by the other way, and therefore had traveled alone by night. Oropher needed no reminder of the fell creatures that prowled under cover of darkness; in his mind, he saw a dozen terrible fates for his daughter.
The caravans had long left the village below the citadel. Absorbed in his concerns, Málissë did not see Laigil until they passed her on the path. The captain signaled a halt, to the dismay of his group, for they were weary of the road and had yet many leagues to go.
"I mean to come with you. But we must hurry, for it is certain that I am already looked for."
"How came it that you were not seen to leave?"
"I left by night - there is a secret way."
"Laigil, you should not have done this. These woods are not safe at night. Even in his anger your father was not so heartless as to bid us depart until light."
"I have lived in the woods nearly all my life."
"But the woods near Tharbad did not conceal orcs and wolves." He looked away down the path, innocent in the bright morning. His heart would steal his love away as she bid; his better sense warned him against this. "I know you love your father, and I would not take you from him or from your people, nor would I have you bear our child among those who are strange to you."
Before Laigil could press her case, silent archers materialized from the forest. Brónalm stepped forward. "The King bids the return of his daughter and the captain."
"Our captain is no subject of your King, but answers to the High King of our people. He has done no wrong to be thus taken."
"It is right, Húlarn. I will go with them, for I have unfinished business here. Take my place and go forth, for winter does not tarry and you must make haste.
"If that be your will," Málissë continued, turning to Laigil, who nodded her assent. Brónalm followed silently behind the pair, his sight fastened firmly on the interloper. His allegiance to his King and his King's family was absolute, and he allowed the Noldo to walk freely only by Oropher's orders. By leading Laigil into danger, Málissë had earned his wrath, and it would be many years before the Cûcherdir*would forgive the captain.
Oropher met them on the winding path that led to the citadel and held his daughter silently, thanking Elbereth that she was unharmed. "Come, it seems there is much we have not discussed."
When all had been gathered, Laigil summoned her courage and spoke first. "Adar, you have my love and loyalty as your daughter, but I have seen well over a millennium in years of the sun and I am no longer a child you can order about. I will follow my heart in this, though it may part us." She trembled slightly at her strong words, but her pale grey eyes did not waver from her father's face.
"Laigil, sell alag, vell nîn!* You must think little of your father that I would sunder myself from you rather than see you bound in opposition to my will." He turned a slightly stern look on Málissë, "it seems we are past the time of betrothal, but perhaps we may have you properly bound."
Thranduil smiled gratefully at his wife. While he and Brónalm had taken different paths to waylay the caravans, Berinaeth had worked wonders with his father. Now Oropher placed the hand of his daughter in that of her beloved and spoke the words of the simple ceremony** that had been custom among the Laegrim* since Doriath was strong.
"Estam Aran Einior, Aran e-Thûl Gardh. Lasto nan-gwaedh hen." ["We call (the) Elder King (Manwë), King of the Breath of Arda. Hear this oath."]
"Estam Elbereth Gilthoniel. Lasto nan-gwaedh hen," Berinaeth invoked the star-goddess. ["We call Elbereth Star-kindler. Hear this oath."]
"Daer vilui nîn, an nen gwedhin im," Laigil followed. Ordinarily, the groom would speak next, but she knew Málissë would be unfamiliar with this ceremony. ["My loving groom, to you I bind me."]
"Dineth vilui nîn, an nen gwedhin im." ["My loving bride, to you I bind me."]
"A Belain! Tangado i erthad hen im Hîn Eru. Tiro den, togo den a berio den. 'Alu lîn anno a cherth dîn a nan-hîn ennin o erthad dîn," Oropher finished. ["O Valar! Affirm this union between Children of Eru. Watch over them, lead them and protect them. Your blessings, give to their household and to the children born of their union."]
"Let there be no more secrets among us."
1250 Second Age, Forlond
Gil-galad considered the news from his kinswoman carefully. That something evil arose in Arda, he had known for some time. But he did not know if this Annatar** was its servant or master, or if Annatar was even connected to this evil. He had turned away Annatar's representatives, and most recently the Maia himself, and Círdan, too, had spurned him, but Gil-galad had no cause but vague ill feelings. Now he spoke against him in Eregion, giving the High King concrete reason to be wary of Annatar. Galadriel** could not recall him among the Maiar she had known in Aman; she knew far more of such matters than he. Clearly, Annatar brewed trouble and discontent. That an elf, who had dwelt in Aman and might therefore be more wise, had fallen under his spell was disquieting. If Celebrimbor might be so easily deceived, how then would lesser elves such as the Sindar who ruled in Belfalas** and Eryn Galen resist? And those lords were predisposed to distrust the King of the Noldor; Celebrimbor he had counted an ally.
He must let Galadriel and Celeborn handle the trouble in Eregion, as well as they might. Lest it spread, however, he thought to warn the other elves in Eriador and the lands beyond - a sticky matter, as most were neither his people nor had he authority in their lands. For this, he would rely on his most trusted counselor.
"Elrond, I have a task for you."
1250 Second Age, Erin Galen
Amon Lanc rose sharply above the forest, a fortress unassailable by stealth. Wild flowers and small scrub covered the steep inclines. In the rocky soil, few other plants would grow, even on the flat hilltop. There the citadel had been made, fortified in Lenwë's time by dwarven stonemasons. It was old even as elves reckoned; all that the Eldar** had made before Morgoth's defeat was now lost, but Amon Lanc still bloomed each spring.
The approach was unguarded, but a single path made the ascent from the ground, and on the naked slopes, with no trees for cover, any who took the path must be seen from the ramparts of the citadel. Only birds of flight could otherwise scale the steep hill. The lone path, then, would be well watched, Elrond knew, and he was not surprised when a blond elf and his guard emerged from a sharp turn in the path.
"Daro!* What brings you to Erin Galen, stranger?"
"Tegin hiniath o chîr nîn, i Daur Gil-galad.*"
"Buiam ú-chîr dan Aran vîn.* What business has the King of the Noldor with the elves of the wood?"
"I would speak on this to your King. It is a matter of some discretion."
Caunolas nodded at his guard. "Let them go forth." He walked swiftly up the hill before the delegation, forcing the visitors to scramble behind him, and passed through the gates of the walled citadel atop the hill. The young elf was careful to show in his manner and voice that the High King carried no weight here. His grandfather had taught him well. "I will see if the King will speak with you."
Elrond knew already that his kinsmen did not share his regard for the High King. If they were truly hostile to Forlond, Annatar would find willing ears at Amon Lanc. And many, many elves, for though he thought himself ignored by the High King, Oropher held in his sway a significant portion of the elves remaining in Arda. Precisely for these reasons had Gil-galad chosen Elrond to handle this matter. Not only did he have faith in the Peredhel's skill, but also he hoped that the heir to Thingol's lost kingdom might yet hold some influence with the Sindarin king.
Thus, this diplomacy was delicate - if Oropher sensed that the High King attempted to usurp his authority, he might be made more susceptible to Annatar's words against Gil-galad. Worse, he might seek out the Maia in hope of overthrowing Gil-galad.
Elrond was not reassured by the cold look of suspicion cast upon him by the King of Erin Galen. Nonetheless, Oropher sent Galion to see to the delegation and their horses and greeted his kinsman politely.
Elrond told him of the visitor distrusted by both his King and, perhaps more persuasive to Oropher, by Círdan. "It is his claim that he is a Maia sent by the Valar to aid us, but we are told that in Eregion he has been no friend to either the High King or Círdan."
"And Gil-galad would count his friends, and win allies against this threat," Oropher surmised.
"He would warn his kindred that Annatar is not all that he seems."
"What leads your King to distrust him? Is he not a Maia?"
"He is. But it is not our experience that the Valar send messengers to set the Eldar against one another. Even when the Exiles came hither, under the Doom of Mandos, the Valar did nothing to warn the Sindar against them."
"Indeed. To the great suffering of many innocents."
"Myself among them, Oropher."
The King acknowledged this with a nod. "You may tell your King that we are neither his ally nor his enemy, and wish to have no part in the intrigues of our kindred in the west. Nor will we harbor those who would sow discord in other realms, and thereby jeopardize our peace."
Elrond decided that he had accomplished as much as he could hope.
"You and your company are welcome to tarry here ere you begin your long journey back."
Elrond quickly accepted the unlooked for offer. A day or two in the citadel might give him a better measure of this people and their King.
"You may be interested to know that this Annatar has already passed through here," Oropher added, as the elf-lord turned to leave.
Elrond raised his eyebrow inquiringly.
"I did not receive him.** Even my young grandson knows malicious intent when it stands before him. He would not admit him to the citadel."
'At least I may tell Gil-galad that if he would not be received warmly here, he should at least be well-fed,' Elrond thought dryly, enjoying the fine feast laid before him; it seemed that the King's son was a bit of a gourmand. After the meal and some melodic singing by the Wood Elves, he hastened toward his rooms, for together with their journey through the forest, it had been a long day. He was, however, hailed by Thranduil.
"Herdir* Elrond! Would you walk with me?"
He nodded his assent, and the elf-lord led him to the ramparts of the citadel. It was a marvelous view. In the distance, Elrond could pick out the dark water of the Anduin, and a few lights in the Vale, where the simple but honest Northmen lived. The shadow of Hithaeglir towered high against the elenath*.
Moved, Elrond spoke softly. "They seem almost brighter here than in the west."
"My father says that it is the influence of the wood folk, for more than all other elves they keep the Lady sacred in their hearts and love the stars as deeply as all of the Quendi did once at Cuiviénen.**"
Elrond was mildly surprised to hear the Quenya words.
"Doriath is no more," Thranduil continued, as though he perceived the other elf's thoughts. "I cannot say that I am fond of the Golodhrim, or Gódhellim,* if you prefer. There is an air of superiority about them that I do not like. Pride is blinding. But so too is hate."
"You speak wisely, Hîl Oropher.*"
"Do not misjudge my father. He lost much at the hands of the Kinslayers, and it is not in his nature to forgive easily. But he cares deeply for his people, and though he will not ally himself with the High King, he will not permit this shadow to taint them. Already we have troubles with the fell creatures and men who followed Morgoth. Whether this Annatar is connected to them or merely another trouble, I do not know, but he reeks of the Bauglir.* My sister did not like the air when he tried to come here, and said it felt as if a shadow had fallen away when he left."
Elrond decided to be candid. "He is very powerful, that we know. And he has had success in Eregion. There he has been welcomed. Celebrimbor is hardly naïve, nor, I think, does he share the depravity of his father. But pride, as you say, is a fault in the Noldor and in Fëanor's descendants more so.
"It is not known to us whether Annatar is a part of the shadow or not," Elrond continued. "But the shadow is real. And you may find that you cannot shun Lindon forever. The fate of all elves may rest in our unity. This lesson was taught with great loss of life in the Elder Days."
Thranduil turned from the ramparts to look directly at Elrond. "Your King may rest easy that the wood folk shall not take up arms against their kindred, not while my father leads them, nor will we ally ourselves with the shadow. But it is nearer to us, and we have troubles that yet do not cross Hithaeglir. We may be imperiled before you are, and our first concern must be our own people and lands."
1600 Second Age, Ost-in-Edhil
The smith wearily removed his apron, brushing soot and mithril filings from his hair and face. Uneasy, he glanced about him in the dark House of the Mírdain. "Hîren,* is there naught else you require?" a servant asked, startling the lord of Eregion.
"Nay, you may leave."
He heard the servant depart by the distant door, and all was silent again. He turned to follow, still uneasy, when the air at once took on weight, and eddied about him in quicksilver's macabre animation. A roar of wind filled his head. His hand - no, the ring, Vilya, burned into his flesh, and a scratching whisper filled the thickened space about him: "One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them."**
Celebrimbor tore the ring of air from his seared finger, crying "Sauron!"
1602 Second Age, Lindórinand
In hope of rapprochement with his estranged kinsman, Malgalad sent tidings to Celeborn and Galadriel, inviting them to the naming ceremony of his first child. As was the custom among the descendants of Elmo, he had given his son a tree-name, Ambrethil. When the elf-child grew a bit older, and revealed his delight in tree climbing and high places, the name would be shortened to Amroth.
As for the ancient lord and his lady, they had returned to Eregion after a long stay in Lindon. Celeborn was pleased to mend relations with his brother-son. They had once been close, when Malgalad was a child. Few remained of his close kin, and though he loved his fiery cousin, their troubled history had kept them apart; he hardly knew Oropher's family. It was imperative, however, that he speak to his cousin regarding the matter that had brought him back to Eregion and chilled his heart, even on this happy occasion. Retiring from the feast to the rooms Oropher occupied during his rare visits to Lindórinand, he turned the conversation toward the growing shadow in the east.
"Celeborn, what has only been rumor and tale of travelers to you has long been known to us here. You need not tell me that dark times have arrived. I have six elves in our healer's quarters with poisoned wounds. Three I shall likely lose. We hear the wolves howl at night, prowling the village below the citadel. Malgalad can tell you of his troubles. He has moved his people nearly to the edge of the Anduin to escape the orcs who have taken up residence in the mountains. And they are multiplying fast. It is certain that they prepare for war." Oropher took up a decanter and began to pour.
"Circumstances have changed, my cousin. There has been a stroke of which you are not yet aware. I come not to challenge your authority, but to do what I can to help you."
"And thereby bring us under obligation to your King."
Celeborn took the proffered glass of wine from his cousin. "In fact, it may be the other way around. If orcs prepare for war, lands to the west are those in jeopardy. Much harm has been done in Eregion. Celebrimbor was much deceived. For we know now the true face of the Maia Annatar, who in Beleriand we called Gorthaur.*"
Oropher grimaced. "These are ill tidings you bring. But surely even the son of Curufin would not ally himself with Morgoth's lieutenant."
"Nay, his mistake weighs heavily upon him. His intentions were good. But things of which I may not speak freely have augmented the power of Gorthaur, and he would surely turn first upon Eregion."
"And if left in peace, orcs breed quickly. You would have my people harry and hinder them. That we will not do. We drive them from my realm, and we help the men in the Vale as we can. But I will not bring my people down a path that must surely lead to war; certainly, not for the sake of the King of the Noldor."
"They must be restrained by Gorthaur. He would not wish them to attack the elves until he is ready."
"Nay, I know more of these filthy creatures than you, my cousin. We had little threat of them in Doriath, and you have lived far from them in the west. They are thralls to their dark lord - they do not love him but fear him, and hate elves above all. If pressed, they will come against us in force, whether Gorthaur wills it or no. We are but a simple folk here. My people know the woods, and I would match their bows against the finest archers of your King's army, but their skills are in stealth and watchfulness, not open warfare.
"I brought my family and our people to mingle with the Wood Elves far from Lindon to be free from exactly this," Oropher continued. "The Noldor seem to have a talent for stirring this sort of trouble. What have they done now, that you must hide from me in the hopes of gaining my help?"
"I am not at liberty to speak on such things."
Oropher allowed himself a grim smile; it was not often that he outwitted his cousin. Celeborn had all but revealed that whatever the Noldor had been up to in Eregion, it had been to the benefit of Gorthaur. "If Gil-galad is so concerned that Gorthaur prepares for war, why does he not assail him now?"
"The High King may be accused of underestimating Annatar. For a century, he has been quiet, and none knew his identity until now. We are not prepared for war. We need time." Celeborn stared into the fire, the foreboding in his heart as insistent as ever. He had counseled the High King to be forthright with his kindred at least, if not Númenor, regarding the rings of power. His cousin, he knew, would be quick to blame the Noldor for this debacle - as he did already - but he would be wise enough to see that the One Ring imperiled them all.
1697 Second Age, Lindórinand
Malgalad looked pityingly on the battle-worn elves. He would have liked to be angry with Celeborn for bringing these Gelydh* to his land, but he could only find sympathy. He remembered too well their flight from Doriath. Many of the elves were anxious for their kin, hoping that they had escaped with Elrond. They had no way to learn of their fate. Others already grieved, the lone survivors of their families. Their city lost, they stood with Celeborn and Galadriel and the dwarves of Khazad-dûm, distracting Sauron's forces so that Elrond and the refugees might escape. They had backed into the dwarven city and shut the doors against Sauron, and made the long journey through the mountain to Lindórinand.
The Noldorination of Lindórinand had begun.
Not all welcomed the arrival of Celeborn and Galadriel, or those who had followed them. The Sindar had come to them desiring to preserve the Wood Elves' way of life. Indeed, they had lived so long among the Laegrim that some had never known any other way. The Sindar brought their knowledge of the Valar and Elven history, and a written language and smiths who could make tools and weapons of metal. But there was an exchange of information. Though Oropher and his family already knew much wood lore, and were respectful of Silvan customs regarding the harvesting of trees and hunting of beasts for food, they had much to learn in this new place. Nor did they look upon the elves of Erin Galen as mere vassals. Brónalm and a handful of others counted among the King's close counselors.
The Noldor lived in their great past; their songs and stories told of Aman and the great battles of the Elder Days. The culture already present among the Wood Elves they dismissed. Galadriel had long desired a realm to rule as her own, but she was not insensitive to Malgalad's claim. It was not her intent to usurp Celeborn's brother-son. She installed herself in Lindórinand with a mind toward guiding the land through troubled times, and Malgalad appreciated her wisdom, though he might have felt otherwise had he known the danger Galadriel brought to his land. However, among the Noldor, she was their ruler. The Wood Elves were awed by Galadriel, but loyal to their lord, and were not so simpleminded as the Noldor believed. The newcomers quietly supplanted them in the arenas of power, not by intent but habit - to lead was the Noldorin birthright. It was during this uneasy time that the Wood Elves came to call Malgalad their King, and Galadriel, hoping that a shift toward independence would mend the rift among the peoples of Lindórinand and weaken ties to her husband's hostile cousin, supported this.
None of this sat easily with the hostile cousin. Oropher distrusted Galadriel. He saw her ambition, and feared it would not be long before his own realm was threatened. The years had not lessened Oropher's antipathy toward her; rather, he condemned her more since her refusal to ask the pardon of the Valar. She had done no wrong, she insisted, though at very least she had conspired to hide the deeds of the Kinslayers from Thingol. This secret had weighed heavy on the heart of Anórieth's grandfather, Angrod. Unlike his sister, he could not keep his silence, for his kinship to his mother's people he placed before loyalty to Fëanor's sons.
As for Lindórinand, even if Malgalad asked for his help, he could do but little. He could not force Galadriel and his cousin from the land. He would not pit elf against elf, and in any event, he retained loyalty to Celeborn. More troubles bothered him. Khazad-dûm, having shut its door on Gorthaur, was flexing its strength, and Galadriel had called upon them to help defend the crossing at Parth Celebrant. But one more fear finally drove him to the decision to move deeper into the forest. The war, what little news they had of the lands to the west, went poorly for the elves. Those who lived in the citadel were well-protected, but the scattered villages of Oropher's people were not, and they were too close to the orcs' stronghold in the mountains and to the open plains south of the forest, where resided men easily bought by Gorthaur.
If his kindred in the west had hope, it lay in their enemy's divided attention. Though he did not bring open warfare against the elves of the Vale and wood, many of Gorthaur's servants remained beyond the mountains. They directed most of their efforts against Lindórinand, with its remnant of the Noldor of Eregion, and against Khazad-dûm, perhaps in retaliation, but Oropher suspected that Gorthaur had a specific purpose. The Maia had been thus far too patient and cautious to now waste energy on revenge, especially when his strength seemed frighteningly unassailable. Gorthaur wanted something.
Númenor came in the High King's hour of need, and by 1700, they had driven Gorthaur from Eriador and he had returned to the east to lick his wounds. But he was not defeated. Oropher's folk could not ignore the brooding presence too near their lands. The orcs who had deserted their dark lord in defeat looked for victory elsewhere. Lindórinand, for the moment, was united, for both the Silvan and Noldorin factions were equally fervent in their hatred of orcs. Unhappy with his own security, Oropher moved his people again. This he intended to be temporary, for they lived much as the Laegrim had lived many centuries earlier, well-hidden in the trees and without permanent dwellings. Thranduil he sent north with Brónalm to the Emyn Duir.* He intended to build a stronghold in the hills, for there they would be deep in the forest and far from the orc caves in Hithaeglir. There were dark times ahead for the men and elves of the Vale and the forest; Oropher needed not the warnings of his daughter or his cousin to see this.
2250 Second Age, Emyn Duir
Their new home in the Emyn Duir had been carefully concealed. Even an elf had to be nearly upon them before he could make out the huts and outbuildings in the glens of the hills. Under the cover of night, orcs, despite their keen night vision, could locate the elves only by smell, and by then, they would be spotted by their prey. Moreover, the Wood Elves, possessors of a primitive sort of magic,** had woven spells to confuse the noses of the orcs, leading them into a well-fortified trap.
No paths did they make to their new home, and like the hidden cities of the Noldor an age ago, their strongest defense was secrecy. No orc would retreat alive. But orcs rarely came so near to them - the men in the Vale were easier pickings for their raids.
In these circumstances, Berinaeth felt secure enough to bear a second child. Like the mother-name given to her first child, she took part of the name of their House and combined it with the traits she saw in her child. Caunolas had been a bit of a play on words; 'caun' might signify valor, and he had indeed grown into a brave leader and warrior, but it also meant 'shouts and clamor', which had suited her energetic eldest, especially as a child. For Innolas, she foresaw a different role. He would wield words as an instrument of peace and diplomacy, and his knowledge of lore and language would begin to heal some of the prejudices of his family.
2300 Second Age, Emyn Duir
Quick of mind and insatiably curious, Innolas had easily exhausted their small library and his tutor was at a loss. Having imparted most of her own learning, she found her pupil yet desiring more. "He really must be sent elsewhere to continue his studies," Helluin told the young elf's father. "There is little more that I can teach him."
Thranduil saw that it would be foolish to waste his son's talents. Even in the Wilderland, the wisdom of a loremaster was as important as the skill of a warrior in rule of a kingdom. If in many ways they lived the simple life of the wood folk, they were nonetheless of the Eldar, and the desire for learning was deeply rooted in their souls. But where might they find a suitable mentor? Few tutors would come to their distant land; most resided at the Havens, the cultural nexus of their world. Or, more specifically, at the court of the High King, and to send his son thither was out of the question.
Berinaeth was of like mind "What of Imladris?" she suggested to her husband. "It is said that many learned elves have settled there."
"Most of them Noldor."
"They are the only ones who can teach him the High Speech."
"My father will not like that."
"Nevertheless, he must learn it. There are scores of books in the libraries at Forlond written in it," she said wistfully. "And I learned too little of it to be of any real help."
Thranduil looked at his wife with suspicion, but could not help a slight smile at her audacity. "I leave it to you, then, to smooth the way with my father," he finished, standing. "Preferably before our youngest demonstrates your limited recall of Quenya before his grandfather." Berinaeth's suggestion would be a fair compromise. Elrond, he thought, had made a favorable impression on his father, and Oropher could hardly object to the guidance of Dior's grandson.
With his father and Faunil, the latter along mostly to accompany Thranduil on his return - for it was not deemed wise for any elf to travel alone - Innolas set forth for Imladris not long after his coming of age. The elves came over the Redhorn Pass, a longer route than the High Pass, but Malgalad's people kept the Redhorn open and unmolested by orcs. It was the first time Innolas had crossed Hithaeglir - the farthest he had been from home had been to the Vale with his father. Even his older brother, who was often away from home, ranging far with their cousin Nórui on the trail of orcs and wolves, had not crossed the mountains since he had come to Eryn Galen as a child. It was Thranduil's habit to keep his sons near to him. He had long had a premonition that left to go too far, they might leave their home forever.
The beauty of Elrond's settlement astonished the young elf. From a besieged fortress during the war, it had become, over the last six hundred years, a place of reflection, rest and intellectual pursuit. Innolas was grateful to be given this opportunity to continue his studies. His tempestuous brother could hardly look at a book without yawning, but the well-chosen word, the one word that might convey exactly what he meant, thrilled Innolas as the dispatch of an orc might rouse his brother. He was one of the few among the Sindar who had managed to learn Silvan, though the language was dying even among its native speakers, and like most of his people, as a child he had learned the Rohirric dialect of the Northmen. He had come to love what little his mother had taught him of Quenya most, however. Though it was close to his native Sindarin, the ornate rules of grammar alone seemed to raise it to its status as a ceremonial language. To his ears it did not have the soft sound of his own tongue, but seemed harder, more precise in its pronunciation.
Left to his own devices while Faunil saw to their accommodations and his sire spoke with the lord of Imladris, Innolas explored the silent halls. At home there was always the noise of an extended family sharing close quarters - the friendly arguments between Caunolas and Nórui, the sonorous voice of Málissë, settling the arguments in hope of a moment's peace, Laigil's fair voice raised in song, his grandfather shouting about some event that had angered or excited him. Innolas did not think he would dare to raise his voice above a whisper in this house. In the Hall of Fire, he saw a few elves sitting in quiet contemplation or reading from well-handled books. The vast library startled him, for he had never seen so many books; he had no idea that so many existed. Here, more serious effort was at hand. Elves had made use of every flat surface for the work of transcribing and translation, and here, at last, was noise, of the scratching of quills and occasional murmurs of discovery or disgust or puzzlement emitted by the elves as they worked. Many looked up briefly as Innolas entered their domain, and a few pairs of eyes stared hard at him before returning to their work.
The young Sinda saw now Málissë's isolation as the lone Noldo among their clan - for even Nórui was, as her father put it, as 'untamed as a Wood Elf'. Some of the Noldor were as haughty as his grandfather claimed, and had little to do with the visitors from Eryn Galen. Others were more welcoming, but though Innolas was usually not shy, he stayed near to his father and the equally abashed Faunil until their departure. He felt awkward and unpolished in this place.
2326 Second Age, Imladris
"So you take your leave soon."
Innolas looked up from his book. He had acquired more than a score during his sojourn, and expected much good-natured grousing from his brother when the heavy volumes had to be transported back to the Emyn Duir. "I await the arrival of my brother and cousin - they are expected by the end of the week, at latest," he replied. The elf was strange to him; Innolas assumed that he had been the visitor who had arrived late the night before.
"You are eager to return?"
"I miss my kin," Innolas admitted. "And it is lovely here, but it is not home."
The elf smiled. "And I hate to be too long away from here, though it is not my home. Such peace is not found in Forlond. But tell me of your wood folk, for I have never seen such elves."
The younger elf felt a pang of homesickness. "They are a merry folk, happy enough to while away their time at feasting and dancing, even in such dark times - though I should not know any other times," he added, painfully aware of his youth. "But so long as you do not cut their trees or upset the creatures in the forest, they are genial enough."
"You have yet much trouble from these fell things of Sauron in the east." A flicker of something akin to guilt passed over the elf's features.
"Aye, though I am told we were more threatened when we lived further south. Now we must be watchful when we travel, but our dwellings are well hidden."
"We lived so at Nargothrond, when I was yet younger than you. But there we lived underground, as your grandfather's kin did in Doriath. I went once there with my grandfather, though I was then a small child, and remember little, save that I was very frightened of Thingol. He was the tallest elf I had ever seen - some say he was the tallest of all our kind - and he moved about quite brusquely. I feared I should be trampled underfoot."
Innolas laughed. "My father has said the same of him. It must have been a fascinating time in which to live."
The dark-haired elf frowned. "Do not let my people deceive you. They speak now with longing of those days, but they forget the sorrows. Your ancestors, who were called wise, nonetheless brought about their own ruin." He smiled, "Save Círdan, that is. I do not think he has ever done anything unwise or selfish.
"Many great princes of Finwë's House came here in Exile, but all perished and left no heirs, apart from Turgon, in whose descendant's house we now speak, and Angrod, whose line shall continue only through his daughter, I think." The elf paused, his sight fixed on something far beyond their idyllic surroundings. "And perhaps that is best. The Noldor have not the simple pleasure in Arda that is the gift of the Sindar; we are too rigid to accept the changes made by men, and too regretful to find joy, as your Silvan people do, even under the shadow."
A messenger interrupted them, and after a moment of quiet conversation, the strange elf nodded to the young Sinda and was gone. Much of what he had heard Innolas knew, or had learned during his stay at Imladris. The follies of both the Sindar and Noldor had inspired his grandfather to seek semi-autonomy in Doriath and to move his family ever eastward during the Middle Days. Yet, the legacy of Innolas' ancestors was inescapable. Though they had shunned the Eldar and adopted the ways of their mostly Avarin people, they were, nonetheless, part of the complicated web that connected the first families of the elves, those chosen to lead the Firstborn as kings and loremasters.
Caunolas and Nórui arrived as expected, and an unlucky packhorse was selected to bear Innolas' books. The elven horse tossed his mane at the other horses, clearly pointing out that he bore as much weight as his brethren who carried riders. The elves laughed at the display of horse hierarchy. "One wonders what they would do if we switched the pack to Bund-thâr and Innolas rode Cóllain," Nórui speculated on their third day of the journey.
Caunolas, being more adventurous - or perhaps more foolhardy - than his father, had chosen the High Pass for their return, but their ride over the sometimes perilous - but breathtakingly beautiful - route was uneventful.
"Something is keeping the orcs quiet of late," Caunolas noted, there having been no sign of the ugly creatures on the pass. "The men in the Vale have some respite, though they are nervous, and speak of something foul from the north."
"But Sauron** abodes in the south, or so it is thought."
Caunolas looked briefly at his brother, responding to the dark lord's Quenya name. "You have been long away from home, my brother. But indeed, we determined to see the gardens of the Entwives after delivering wine to Lindórinand last summer, and in the south of the Wilderland the shadow is stronger, and the men more evil."
"I should have liked to have seen such gardens. Brónalm has spoken much of the Entwives."
"You must come with us the next time we go," Nórui suggested. "And Lindórinand, that you must see, for it is much changed. They have planted a new tree there, a tree that does not lose its leaves in the winter but remains golden from fall to spring. Some have commenced to call it Lórinand, in honor of the golden trees."
"But not all are pleased," Caunolas interjected sharply. "Amroth tells me that the wood folk love the mallorns,** but warn that the lack of mulch on the ground over the winter is bad for the soil and grass. Some of the smaller plants have disappeared, and the Noldor cut maples and oaks to replace them with the golden trees. Of course, such things do not trouble Galadriel; even Celeborn has tried to tell her of these problems, but she understands nothing of the ways of the wood."
It was early evening, and they had made good time since breaking camp on the pass. They thought to stop in a dense thicket along the dwarf road to the forest, but as they drew near, the three elves felt a chill in the air, odd for the warm summer evening.
"Something I do not like is in the air," Caunolas murmured, his elven senses alert but gathering nothing he could see or hear.
Nórui agreed. "We are watched, but by what, I cannot say. It is not orcs or wolves. This thing is more powerful." The horses were skittish and unnerved; clearly, they felt this, too.
"Let us go on to Laffirien, though night falls." As they drew nearer the bridge,** the fell shadow lessened. If they had been watched, they had not been pursued.
For he would not pursue elves - they and all that was elven was an abomination to the creature. He had not the power over them that he had over other beings, even less over children of the Eldar, of ancient and noble bloodlines. He could cleave and kill them with his sword, but so might their elven blades do the same to him, and the terror wrought by a wraith in thralldom to the Dark Lord did not daunt immortal beings. So he watched, and he waited, and when they were well past, he continued his journey to the little-used pass at the Gladden River, for into Eriador, from the dominion he had long held in the north, was he called by his King.**
- * Adar
- Father
- * Hadhodrond
- Original Sindarin name of Khazad-dûm, as told in The Silmarillion. This is a bit of an error on Tolkien's part in LOTR, I think. Gimli notes that it "is now called the Black Pit, Moria in the Elvish tongue", (ref. p 276, pub. Houghton Mifflin) indicating that Tolkien already thought of 'Moria' as a name acquired after the Balrog appeared. So why would Celebrimbor inscribe such an unflattering name on the West Door during better years?
- ** Lindórinand
- Lindórinand ('Vale of the Land of the Singers') was intended to be the original Silvan name of Lórien. Tolkien later changed the original name to Lórinand ('Valley of Gold'). This name, however, fails to consider the story of the origin of the mallorns: Tar-Aldarion gave the seeds to Gil-galad. The trees would not grow in Lindon (which is why Sam needed that special soil in LOTR), but Gil-galad gave the seeds to Galadriel, who was able to grow them in Lindórinand. (ref. p 265, Unfinished Tales, 'The History of Galadriel and Celeborn')
- ** rule of his fief
- The connection between Lórien and Oropher's people is a bit convoluted. Lórien had its Sindarin kings -Malgalad Amdír and his son, Amroth, as well as the guardianship from time to time of Galadriel and Celeborn. Yet it is also stated that it was Oropher who "led the host of the Silvan Elves to battle" - including Malgalad's people from Lórien. (ref. p 270-271, Unfinished Tales, 'The History of Galadriel and Celeborn') The implication is that Oropher originally ruled both lands, and perhaps Lórien became progressively more estranged due to Galadriel's "intrusion" into Lórien and the gradual move of Oropher's people northeast from their first dwellings at Amon Lanc.
- * Cugu
- dove
- ** silver ring
- Silver rings were exchanged by elves at their betrothal (ref. Morgoth's Ring, 'Laws and Customs Among the Eldar')
- ** traditional crown of vines woven with cranberries and red leaves from the turning maple
- Thranduil wears this crown when Bilbo sees him in his hall in The Hobbit
- ** Ivonwin
- Maidens of Yavanna - they were the only elves allowed to handle the corn until it was made into lembas. (ref. The Peoples of Middle-Earth, 'Of Lembas')
- ** Yavanna
- I find no reference to any of the Valar in association with birth, fertility and motherhood, but pantheistic religions often associate these elements with goddesses of the earth and harvest.
- * Melethen
- My love
- ** Galion
- Galion is the hapless butler who allowed the dwarves to escape in The Hobbit.
- * Golodh
- Noldo
- * Naneth
- Mother
- ** Belain
- Valar. In Tolkien's world, sexual union was deemed to achieve marital union, but like many modern readers, I find it rather implausible that elves who married late or never married were celibate for thousands of years. I think, however, that it would be in the spirit of 'The Laws and Customs among the Eldar' to consider conception to create a marital bond.
- * Nuitho hin!
- Stop this!
- * Cûcherdir
- Bow-master
- * Laigil, sell alag, vell nîn!
- Laigil, impetuous, dear daughter of mine!
- ** simple ceremony
- This is based on Morgoth's Ring, 'Laws and Customs among the Eldar' and the marriage of Beren and Lúthien in The Silmarillion. The ceremony itself was never told to any mortal, but called upon Manwë and Varda and included the name of Eru, used in place of 'Ilúvatar' only on such solemn occasions. Here I have used an old Celtic handfasting rite, adapted to Tolkien's world.
- * Laegrim
- Green Elves (Laiquendi)
- ** Annatar
- The name taken by Sauron when he came among the elves early in the Second Age. The elves did not connect him with Morgoth's lieutenant until the One Ring was forged. (ref. Unfinished Tales, 'The History of Galadriel and Celeborn')
- ** Galadriel
- The movements of Galadriel and Celeborn through the Second and Third Ages are told mostly in Unfinished Tales, 'The History of Galadriel and Celeborn'. Here, there are two contradictory histories, and some fragments that confuse the matter more. I've relied first on LOTR and The Silmarillion in deciding what to use. Otherwise, I have selected what seems more likely, or fits better into my story. I have chosen to place them in Eregion, with their first foray into Lórien occurring in the 1600s, and first taking up residence there in 1697, when Ost-in-Edhil fell to Sauron. This is supported by one rather obscure summary by Christopher Tolkien of an unpublished writing: "…it is said explicitly that they both [Galadriel and Celeborn] at that time 'passed through Moria with a considerable following of Noldorin exiles and dwelt for many years in Lórien.' It is neither asserted nor denied in these late writings that Galadriel (or Celeborn) had relations with Lórien before 1697… ." (ref. Unfinished Tales, 'The History of Galadriel and Celeborn' p 256 pub. Ballantine/Del Rey)
- ** Belfalas
- Tolkien wrote more than one origin for Belfalas, and the one I have used here tells of Sindar of Doriath, who left Lindon near the beginning of the Second Age to get away from the Noldor. (ref. Unfinished Tales, 'The History of Galadriel and Celeborn')
- ** Eldar
- This word suffered a bit due to Tolkien's shifting use of it; by the time the works in Unfinished Tales were written (mostly the 1960s), 'Eldar' had come to include Lenwë's group. I'm using the term to include all elves who eventually made it to Beleriand. This definition matches the use of the word in LOTR, 'Appendix F': "The Elves far back in the Elder Days became divided into two main branches: the West-elves (the Eldar) and the East-elves. Of the latter kind were most of the elven-folk of Mirkwood and Lórien… ." (ref. p 1101, pub. Houghton Mifflin)
- * Daro!
- Halt!
- * Tegin hiniath o chîr nîn, i Daur Gil-galad.
- I bring tidings from my lord, the High King Gil-galad.
- * Buiam ú-chîr dan Aran vîn.
- We hold allegiance to no lord but our King. There are two words in Sindarin for 'king': taur (Daur above, due to lenition), used only to refer to a king of a people ('High King of the Noldor', for example), and aran, used for a king of a region (ie 'King of Mirkwood').
- ** I did not receive him [Annatar]
- In The Silmarillion, we are told that Sauron was welcomed by elves other than those in Lindon. Why, then, would Oropher not welcome the Maia, who had incurred the enmity of Gil-galad and Galadriel? I think there are two reasons: first, the one given by Oropher in this story - he wished to be free of any involvement in the intrigues of Noldorin politics. What little we are told of him tells us that he continually withdrew from conflict with the Noldor, by moving east out of Lindon and then deeper into the forest, away from Galadriel in Lórien. Second, Sauron offered little that would appeal to the Silvan folk or to the Sindar who had adopted their lifestyle. To the elves, he offered a way to stay in Middle-Earth and enjoy the bliss of Aman, by holding back time and change. Fading, the monster in the Noldorin closet, was perhaps not such a fear for Oropher's folk - as Michael Martinez writes, "Presumably the Silvan Elves would have had little interest in preserving Middle-earth. And fading? What is fading?" (ref. 'Shhh! It's a secret ring!', www.suite101.com).
It is significant that of the four traditional elements of the alchemists - water, air, fire and earth - the last is the only one not represented by the Elven Rings. In Wicca traditions (which vary, but are based in ancient pagan religions with which Tolkien was quite familiar), Air represents knowledge and understanding; Water - intuition, dreams and cleansing; Fire - courage, energy and creativity. These are all qualities desired and prized by the Noldor. Earth is associated with growth, fertility and nature - things prized by the Wood Elves. However, they needed no ring to preserve or create these processes, for they continued to happen around them. In later days, when Eryn Galen became Mirkwood, they might have wished for a magical ring, as the blight on their forest must have been a terrible grief to them. The cleansing of Mirkwood is probably what Galadriel offered when she tempted Legolas with the One Ring. The grandson of Oropher and son of Thranduil was well taught - he saw that his desire would only bring a different horror upon his people, and only he and Aragorn could refuse without hesitation or doubt in their hearts.
- * Herdir
- Master
- * elenath
- the host of stars
- ** Quendi did once at Cuiviénen
- Quendi, of course, is Quenya for 'elves'. The Sindarin equivalent of Cuiviénen (lit. waters of awakening) is Nen Echui. (ref. The Long Road, 'Etymologies')
- * Golodhrim, Gódhellim
- Both are class plurals for the Noldor, but the Noldor preferred the latter, as the first had an unpleasant sound (only elves!). The former, not surprisingly, was used chiefly in Doriath. (ref. The War of the Jewels, 'Quendi and Eldar')
- * Hîl Oropher
- Heir of Oropher
- * Bauglir
- Morgoth (lit. the Constrainer)
- * Hîren
- My lord
- ** "One ring to rule them all… ."
- (ref. LOTR p 248, pub. Houghton Mifflin)
- * Gorthaur
- Sindarin name of Sauron
- * Gelydh
- Noldor (plural of Golodh)
- * Emyn Duir
- Mountains of Mirkwood before Sauron came to the forest (lit. Dark Hills). (ref. Unfinished Tales, 'Disaster of the Gladden Fields')
- ** magic
- In The Hobbit, we are told that the Wood Elves possessed "strong magic". (ref. p 167, pub. Del Rey/Ballantine)
- ** Sauron
- Tolkien rarely uses Gorthaur in The Silmarillion, in contrast with other Sindarin words replacing Quenya names. Its chief use may have been in Doriath, and during the mingling of the various Sindarin dialects at the end of the First Age and early Second Age, the name was perhaps lost - save among Sindar such as Oropher who were geographically isolated from the rest of the elves. The first part of the word, 'gorth', does fit in with Doriathrin words derived from the NGORT stem. (ref. The Long Road, 'Etymologies') However, at some point Oropher's family must have begun to adopt Quenya terms that had passed into common use. Legolas uses 'Sauron', indicating that by the end of the Third Age, Thranduil's family probably spoke standard 'Imladris' Sindarin. This dialect had a strong Quenya influence through Elrond's father, who must have learned Quenya as a child (Turgon's family alone continued to speak Quenya), and more significantly, Elrond's fostering by Maglor.
- ** mallorns
- The idea that the mallorns were bad for the environment is entirely made up, but not illogical. It's rarely a good thing to introduce a new species to an ecosystem, particularly one from a unique environment such as the island of Númenor.
- ** bridge over the Anduin
- This was located at the ford where the dwarves crossed in The Hobbit. Its moment of fame was the crossing of Gil-galad's army on the way to Mordor. (ref. Unfinished Tales, 'Disaster of the Gladden Fields')
- ** Ringwraiths
- The wraiths, I think, did not have the same effect on elves that they had on mortals. In combat, of course, their swords would be equally deadly, but I imagine that their terror and Black Breath would have little, if any, effect on an elf. Moreover, the elf himself (or herself) would be dreadful to the wraith - as with Gollum, anything elven would be a poison to him, and the elves had their own powers of magic. Together, the Nine would be more formidable, and the Witch King had powers beyond those of his riders. But elves, unlike men (excepting the Dúnedain, and the wraiths did fear Aragorn) maintained a close connection to the Valar, and perhaps the power of the Valar made them fearful of such things as the "Elvish waters of Baranduin". (ref. Unfinished Tales, 'The Hunt for the Ring', p 360 pub. Ballantine/Del Rey)