4. Lothlorien
(A/N: Yeah, I'm still here, but I've been writer-blocked for a while.
Anyway, the second movie pushed a tiny bit of inspiration and got me to sit
down, if only to remind people that Haldir doesn't bloody die in the book.
This is where I have no more canon to work with, and will have to actually
invent plot. Goddess help me. In any case, I hope the next part of this
chapter will be out by next week.)
The year that followed was peaceful for the elves of the Golden Forest.
Galadriel busied her days with the many things that required her attention
and her nights with her husband. Although her still became quiet and
withdrawn at times, Celeborn still acted the same outwardly, ruling their
kingdom with the same quiet strength and pleasantness. They both knew their
days together were growing short as the seasons changed outside the eternal
autumn that was Lorien, and the human lands changed. A band of elves from
Mirkwood passed through Lorien on their way to the new settlement at
Ithilien and drew some of the younger elves with them, and the forest was
quieter and less cheerful afterwards. Many of those who remained were
leaving with their queen, and were busy with their own final duties and
arrangement, visiting favorite haunts, packing and celebrating with
friends. Autumn slowly grew into winter, and the Mallorns lost their golden
leaves for what seemed like the last time. The year passed all too quickly.
Celeborn did not travel with his wife to the Gray Havens. When Elrond and most of his household came to Lothlorien, followed by Gildor's group of traveling elves, he realized that seeing her sailing away would be more than he'll be able to bear. They stayed in Lorien for one agonizing month, during which he forced himself to stay cheerful. All around him people were promising to meet again 'beyond the sunset', and the air was suffused with excitement and the expectations of a journey to a place most of them considered home, despite the fact that they'd never seen it. Some people who weren't going to the Havens either, like Glorfindel and Elrond's sons, came as well, and they seemed happy enough. Finally the day came.
"Will you not even see me sail?" Galadriel asked plaintively, the hurt clear in her voice.
"I cannot, my love. I am sorry." He answered for the hundredth time. 'I'll follow as soon as I can, but not this time." He sighed, tying up the last package and patting it. "You'd think there are no clothes or books in Valinor, from the amount of luggage you bear. Have the horses received permission to join you in the Undying Lands as well?" He tried to smile at his own little joke, but it fell flat. Galadriel gave him a mock stern look.
"I wish to look nice when I return. Some of my kinsmen- my own mother- have not seen me since I was a young child. I want them to realize from the start that I am an adult."
"I hardly think they'd mistake you for a child, beloved, and you always look nice." Celeborn played along, knowing that she truly was worried, on some level. "In fact, to say that you look merely 'nice' would be an insult of the highest order, and I would have to challenge the offender to defend your honor."
"Now, now, no dueling, if you don't mind." She reprimanded, wagging her finger at him. "I want you to come back to me whole an unharmed. My mother hasn't met you yet, and I'd hate to introduce her to my scarred, earless husband."
"Are you suggesting I would lose, my disrespectful wife?" He asked, smiling naturally for the first time in weeks, "Besides, why would I need to meet your mother?"
"Because you'll be living in Valinor with her, and I am certain that she'll want to be formally introduced to you. I am also sure my father has told her many tales of you."
Celeborn winced, "And I can imagine which. Maybe it wouldn't be wise for me to meet her, then. I think I made an unfavorable impression on Lord Finarfin when last we met."
"It was not your fault, beloved." Galadriel assured him, "You were in the middle of a siege, after all, and it was mostly his fault that you did not ask his permission before we wed. Telling him that you took silence as an agreement, however, was rather disrespectful."
"He had the gall to come after more than three thousand years and tell me we were not truly married because he hadn't given his consent. He wouldn't even see Celebrian!" Celeborn replied hotly, then added more calmly, "I don't like your father very much, I'm afraid." Their meeting during the War of wrath had been short an unpleasant. Finarfin had been furious and hurt that his youngest and only surviving child had chosen to stay with her Sindarin mate, and blamed Celeborn for the whole thing. Celeborn sometimes wondered what Finarfin did when he ran into his granddaughter in Valinor, since he'd refused to acknowledge her the first time. Would he still deny their kinship?
"He was upset, Celeborn." Galadriel defended her father, "He had just discovered that all my brothers had been slain in battle. I suspect he promised my mother to bring us back to her." She smiled sadly, "He was rather harsh with his language, though."
"Yes, well, that was a long time ago. I believe people are waiting for you." Celeborn's cheerfulness vanished like morning mists as he picked up the largest bundle and moved it into the basket to be lowered down to the ground. "Tell him to reconsider his opinion of me before we meet again, if he finds the time for it." He added over his shoulder. Galadriel took the last two packages and they descended silently. Under the huge they met the group, headed by Elrond, Mithrandir and Bilbo, who had fallen asleep on his pony. Celeborn surveyed the large number of elves behind his son-in-law and his old friend and took a deep breath, trying to keep his rising emotions in control. He looked again at his wife, garbed in shimmering white with her golden tresses flowing down her back- hair he had brushed and braided for what felt like the last time earlier. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The elven lord had to fight himself not to run to her, hold her and beg her to stay, for he knew he must not, could not, ask that of her. With an almost painful slowness and formality, he embraced Elrond and nodded at Mithrandir, who shook his head, dismounted and slapped Celeborn on the back hard enough to make him stagger. He had said his goodbyes to the others the previous night; only one remained.
Celeborn froze. His feet refused to move. Galadriel was standing by her horse, joy and sorrow mingled in her eyes. He couldn't make himself approach her. It took a great effort for him to move forward. Very correctly, he kissed her softly on the cheek. "Farewell, my wife." He was amazed at the steadiness of his voice, but couldn't say more than these three words. She pulled him into a deep, searing kiss that left him breathless.
"Farewell, beloved. We shall meet again soon. Take care of this land for me." She whispered. Closing his eyes again, Celeborn pushed his anguish aside. He nodded and his hands were steady as he helped her mount. He rode with them to the borders of Lorien, where they would continue to the Sire to collect Frodo. Galadriel held her out, and Celeborn caught it and held it like a lifeline. His face was impassive and his body stiff and straight as he let go and watched them ride away. Elves around him cheered and waved, some laughing, some crying, but Celeborn was in a world of his own, his entire being drawn to the shimmering haze that was his wife, receding in the distance. He remained on the road long after even his elvish sight failed to capture them. Only when the sun started to set that day did he turn his horse away and ride back. Anxious elves- and he knew several had come to check on him during the day- approached him with comforting words, but he waved them away. Marching straight to the royal court, he planted himself firmly in his throne, ignoring its empty twin at his side. "Haldir!" He thundered.
Haldir appeared at his side almost immediately, having shadowed his master for most of the day. "Yes, my lord?"
Celeborn ignored his worried expression as he did most everything that didn't involve the next heartbeat. Sound seemed muted and sight blurry at the edges. "Are there any matters that require my attention today?"
"No, my lord. Everything was settled yester-eve, and nothing new has come up since." Haldir paused. "My lord, are you well? I mean.The Lady- Don't you wish to be alone?"
"Not at all, Haldir. She is gone and will be happier in the West. Our life here must continue." Some part of him was screaming at the wrongness of his words- there was something he wasn't doing right, but he stifled it. "We must move on." He finished. Haldir nodded numbly and Celeborn vaguely recalled that several members of his captain's family had left that day as well. "I apologize, my friend." He said, "That was insensitive of me. It would be silly to go right back to our normal routine." The words meant nothing to him. "Take some time to yourself. I think I'd rather be alone, after all." He waved the faithful archer away, rose heavily and climbed up to their-his, he reminded himself- chambers. The room was packed full of memories. Shutting out sight and sound stubbornly, he cleared his mind of any thoughts and allowed himself to collapse on the bed. Sleep eluded him that night, and for many days afterwards.
The next week or so was only a vague memory for Celeborn, looking back. He went through the motions of kingship, repressing every speck of feeling he had. There wasn't much to do, really- Lorien was nearly empty now, with maybe a score of elves left. There was very little laughter and music to be found, despite their best efforts. Celeborn walked the forest with empty eyes, eating little and saying less.
Finally the sign some expected and others dreaded arrived. Celeborn was sitting in his empty throne-room when Haldir entered, a seagull perched on his arm.
"It has arrived, my lord, and it bears Cirdan's seal. They have set sail from the Havens." He said quietly. The gull hopped down to the armrest of Celeborn's chair and squawked at him. Around its leg was a ribbon with the sigil of the Gray Havens, and a note.
Beloved, tell everyone that we are well, and will sail within the hour. Soon we will see the Undying Lands with our own eyes. I love you. G.
The sight of the familiar script nearly destroyed all his carefully constructed defenses. His hand shook as he put the note down.
"She also sent this with the bird." Haldir handed him a small silk pouch. He opened it and turned it, and a ring fell into his open palm. Haldir gasped. "Is that?"
Celeborn could only nod woodenly. His fingers closed around the jewel until the sharp edges of the white stone cut into his hand. At this last, deepest and true sign that his wife had left Middle-Earth and the life she had in it behind, his fugue started cracking. He rose, trembling, and walked out of the main clearing, gathering his dignity around him like a cloak. How he got up the tree and into his bedchamber, he didn't know, but he ended up there, curled up against the wall, sobbing as if his heart was breaking, which it was. His body shook in silent, restrained anguish, then with freely flowing tears as the elf-lord mourned for a life lost and a world changed, and for the passing of his people.
Now that his bubble of ignorance had burst, everything reminded him of her. Her perfume hung in the air, even after a week, and her delicate touch was evident everywhere. Every time his eyes finally dried, they settled on something else that triggered another memory, and fill up again. He had no idea how long he stayed there, but at some point he was exhausted as he'd ever been, and finally managed to drag himself into bed and fell asleep.
For the next two weeks or so Celeborn didn't set foot outside his room. The food sent up the tree was cleared away untouched, and there was no sign of life at all for those waiting outside. What few elves remained in Lorien we besides themselves with worry, but none dared disturb him. It was a well known fact that elves could simply will themselves to die of grief, and the lord of the Golden Wood seemed well on his way to doing so if nobody did anything. So Haldir finally decided to do something.
He didn't bother to knock, but pushed the unresisting door open lightly. The room seemed empty and Haldir's heart skipped a beat, but then he saw Celeborn sitting in a high-backed chair, his face blank and his eyes closed, and his heart nearly stopped altogether- had he already passed on to Mandos? But no, for he saw him draw a single breath, and then release it.
"My lord? Please, say something!" Haldir said urgently, nearly shaking the older elf in his haste to rouse him. The silver-haired figure opened half an eye, then closed it again.
"What part of 'I wish to be alone' did you fail to understand, Haldir?" The voice was raspy, tired and sharper than Haldir was used to, but the archer was so relieved he didn't mind.
"My lord, we were worried about you." He tried to explain.
"You shouldn't have been. I'm fine." Celeborn snapped. He just wanted to be alone. It hadn't been that long, had it? "How long have I been here?"
"More than two weeks, my lord." Haldir replied. Celeborn's eyes flew open in real surprise.
"Two weeks? It seemed like mere minutes to me." Celeborn blinked and rubbed his eyes. "She'd really gone, Haldir."
"I know, my lord, but you shall see her again. We all shall." Haldir had been telling himself that every day, "And, as you said yourself, life must go on. Lorien needs a ruler, my lord. The elves are disorganized, for the largest group of us is now in Mirkwood, and wish to withdraw completely from the world of men. There are maybe three dozen of us here, and more in Imladris. We need, I think, to reconsider our relations with the human lands.
"Indeed, you are right." Celeborn's diplomatic skills were roused after a fairly long slumber. "Have we received any messages? Envoys? Anything?"
"None yet, but we have received word from Mirkwood that an envoy will be coming soon, bearing Thranduil's last words, and afterwards not even other elves will be able to find them. He or she should be here in a few days. Will you see them when they come?"
"Of course. Give me a while to make myself presentable, and I will join you downstairs. Is everybody well down there?" He asked sheepishly, feeling slightly guilty about abandoning his people in time of need like that. Haldir nodded.
"Life goes on as smoothly as ever. Take all the time you need, but be warned, "He allowed himself a grin, "I will come to search for you before two weeks have passed, this time."
"excellent, and thank you my friend." Celeborn said warmly. He stood up, stretching stiff muscles, amazed that two whole weeks have passed. It wasn't unusual for elves to be preoccupied for long periods of time, but never without any contact at all with others. He also noticed that he was starving. My uncle, I have been struck like you, but for a very different reason. I suppose women have that effect on us. He thought wryly as he climbed down. The silence saddened him, disturbed only by the wind in the trees and he sweet, sad melody of a single flute. Lorien was nearly empty. At least, he thought ruefully, the kitchens were still working.
An hour later he was washed, fed and lonely again. He missed the bond he had with Galadriel, which had been cut at some point, terribly, and he missed knowing she was there.
There were a surprising number of things to do in the following weeks. Abandoned _telen_ had to be dismantled, patrols sent out to the secure the outer borders of the land, and emissaries from Greenwood and Imlardis received and consulted. Thranduil's farewell message was short and to the point, explaining that the humans in the Dale were friendly enough, but that the elves had grown self-sufficient and didn't wish to interact with the outside world again. He promised to send a report of their well-being every decade or so, and wished them well. He also added that the small community of elves in Ithilien, headed by his son, was flourishing. Celeborn detected a note of pride in those words, and smiled for the first time in weeks.
Celeborn did not travel with his wife to the Gray Havens. When Elrond and most of his household came to Lothlorien, followed by Gildor's group of traveling elves, he realized that seeing her sailing away would be more than he'll be able to bear. They stayed in Lorien for one agonizing month, during which he forced himself to stay cheerful. All around him people were promising to meet again 'beyond the sunset', and the air was suffused with excitement and the expectations of a journey to a place most of them considered home, despite the fact that they'd never seen it. Some people who weren't going to the Havens either, like Glorfindel and Elrond's sons, came as well, and they seemed happy enough. Finally the day came.
"Will you not even see me sail?" Galadriel asked plaintively, the hurt clear in her voice.
"I cannot, my love. I am sorry." He answered for the hundredth time. 'I'll follow as soon as I can, but not this time." He sighed, tying up the last package and patting it. "You'd think there are no clothes or books in Valinor, from the amount of luggage you bear. Have the horses received permission to join you in the Undying Lands as well?" He tried to smile at his own little joke, but it fell flat. Galadriel gave him a mock stern look.
"I wish to look nice when I return. Some of my kinsmen- my own mother- have not seen me since I was a young child. I want them to realize from the start that I am an adult."
"I hardly think they'd mistake you for a child, beloved, and you always look nice." Celeborn played along, knowing that she truly was worried, on some level. "In fact, to say that you look merely 'nice' would be an insult of the highest order, and I would have to challenge the offender to defend your honor."
"Now, now, no dueling, if you don't mind." She reprimanded, wagging her finger at him. "I want you to come back to me whole an unharmed. My mother hasn't met you yet, and I'd hate to introduce her to my scarred, earless husband."
"Are you suggesting I would lose, my disrespectful wife?" He asked, smiling naturally for the first time in weeks, "Besides, why would I need to meet your mother?"
"Because you'll be living in Valinor with her, and I am certain that she'll want to be formally introduced to you. I am also sure my father has told her many tales of you."
Celeborn winced, "And I can imagine which. Maybe it wouldn't be wise for me to meet her, then. I think I made an unfavorable impression on Lord Finarfin when last we met."
"It was not your fault, beloved." Galadriel assured him, "You were in the middle of a siege, after all, and it was mostly his fault that you did not ask his permission before we wed. Telling him that you took silence as an agreement, however, was rather disrespectful."
"He had the gall to come after more than three thousand years and tell me we were not truly married because he hadn't given his consent. He wouldn't even see Celebrian!" Celeborn replied hotly, then added more calmly, "I don't like your father very much, I'm afraid." Their meeting during the War of wrath had been short an unpleasant. Finarfin had been furious and hurt that his youngest and only surviving child had chosen to stay with her Sindarin mate, and blamed Celeborn for the whole thing. Celeborn sometimes wondered what Finarfin did when he ran into his granddaughter in Valinor, since he'd refused to acknowledge her the first time. Would he still deny their kinship?
"He was upset, Celeborn." Galadriel defended her father, "He had just discovered that all my brothers had been slain in battle. I suspect he promised my mother to bring us back to her." She smiled sadly, "He was rather harsh with his language, though."
"Yes, well, that was a long time ago. I believe people are waiting for you." Celeborn's cheerfulness vanished like morning mists as he picked up the largest bundle and moved it into the basket to be lowered down to the ground. "Tell him to reconsider his opinion of me before we meet again, if he finds the time for it." He added over his shoulder. Galadriel took the last two packages and they descended silently. Under the huge they met the group, headed by Elrond, Mithrandir and Bilbo, who had fallen asleep on his pony. Celeborn surveyed the large number of elves behind his son-in-law and his old friend and took a deep breath, trying to keep his rising emotions in control. He looked again at his wife, garbed in shimmering white with her golden tresses flowing down her back- hair he had brushed and braided for what felt like the last time earlier. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The elven lord had to fight himself not to run to her, hold her and beg her to stay, for he knew he must not, could not, ask that of her. With an almost painful slowness and formality, he embraced Elrond and nodded at Mithrandir, who shook his head, dismounted and slapped Celeborn on the back hard enough to make him stagger. He had said his goodbyes to the others the previous night; only one remained.
Celeborn froze. His feet refused to move. Galadriel was standing by her horse, joy and sorrow mingled in her eyes. He couldn't make himself approach her. It took a great effort for him to move forward. Very correctly, he kissed her softly on the cheek. "Farewell, my wife." He was amazed at the steadiness of his voice, but couldn't say more than these three words. She pulled him into a deep, searing kiss that left him breathless.
"Farewell, beloved. We shall meet again soon. Take care of this land for me." She whispered. Closing his eyes again, Celeborn pushed his anguish aside. He nodded and his hands were steady as he helped her mount. He rode with them to the borders of Lorien, where they would continue to the Sire to collect Frodo. Galadriel held her out, and Celeborn caught it and held it like a lifeline. His face was impassive and his body stiff and straight as he let go and watched them ride away. Elves around him cheered and waved, some laughing, some crying, but Celeborn was in a world of his own, his entire being drawn to the shimmering haze that was his wife, receding in the distance. He remained on the road long after even his elvish sight failed to capture them. Only when the sun started to set that day did he turn his horse away and ride back. Anxious elves- and he knew several had come to check on him during the day- approached him with comforting words, but he waved them away. Marching straight to the royal court, he planted himself firmly in his throne, ignoring its empty twin at his side. "Haldir!" He thundered.
Haldir appeared at his side almost immediately, having shadowed his master for most of the day. "Yes, my lord?"
Celeborn ignored his worried expression as he did most everything that didn't involve the next heartbeat. Sound seemed muted and sight blurry at the edges. "Are there any matters that require my attention today?"
"No, my lord. Everything was settled yester-eve, and nothing new has come up since." Haldir paused. "My lord, are you well? I mean.The Lady- Don't you wish to be alone?"
"Not at all, Haldir. She is gone and will be happier in the West. Our life here must continue." Some part of him was screaming at the wrongness of his words- there was something he wasn't doing right, but he stifled it. "We must move on." He finished. Haldir nodded numbly and Celeborn vaguely recalled that several members of his captain's family had left that day as well. "I apologize, my friend." He said, "That was insensitive of me. It would be silly to go right back to our normal routine." The words meant nothing to him. "Take some time to yourself. I think I'd rather be alone, after all." He waved the faithful archer away, rose heavily and climbed up to their-his, he reminded himself- chambers. The room was packed full of memories. Shutting out sight and sound stubbornly, he cleared his mind of any thoughts and allowed himself to collapse on the bed. Sleep eluded him that night, and for many days afterwards.
The next week or so was only a vague memory for Celeborn, looking back. He went through the motions of kingship, repressing every speck of feeling he had. There wasn't much to do, really- Lorien was nearly empty now, with maybe a score of elves left. There was very little laughter and music to be found, despite their best efforts. Celeborn walked the forest with empty eyes, eating little and saying less.
Finally the sign some expected and others dreaded arrived. Celeborn was sitting in his empty throne-room when Haldir entered, a seagull perched on his arm.
"It has arrived, my lord, and it bears Cirdan's seal. They have set sail from the Havens." He said quietly. The gull hopped down to the armrest of Celeborn's chair and squawked at him. Around its leg was a ribbon with the sigil of the Gray Havens, and a note.
Beloved, tell everyone that we are well, and will sail within the hour. Soon we will see the Undying Lands with our own eyes. I love you. G.
The sight of the familiar script nearly destroyed all his carefully constructed defenses. His hand shook as he put the note down.
"She also sent this with the bird." Haldir handed him a small silk pouch. He opened it and turned it, and a ring fell into his open palm. Haldir gasped. "Is that?"
Celeborn could only nod woodenly. His fingers closed around the jewel until the sharp edges of the white stone cut into his hand. At this last, deepest and true sign that his wife had left Middle-Earth and the life she had in it behind, his fugue started cracking. He rose, trembling, and walked out of the main clearing, gathering his dignity around him like a cloak. How he got up the tree and into his bedchamber, he didn't know, but he ended up there, curled up against the wall, sobbing as if his heart was breaking, which it was. His body shook in silent, restrained anguish, then with freely flowing tears as the elf-lord mourned for a life lost and a world changed, and for the passing of his people.
Now that his bubble of ignorance had burst, everything reminded him of her. Her perfume hung in the air, even after a week, and her delicate touch was evident everywhere. Every time his eyes finally dried, they settled on something else that triggered another memory, and fill up again. He had no idea how long he stayed there, but at some point he was exhausted as he'd ever been, and finally managed to drag himself into bed and fell asleep.
For the next two weeks or so Celeborn didn't set foot outside his room. The food sent up the tree was cleared away untouched, and there was no sign of life at all for those waiting outside. What few elves remained in Lorien we besides themselves with worry, but none dared disturb him. It was a well known fact that elves could simply will themselves to die of grief, and the lord of the Golden Wood seemed well on his way to doing so if nobody did anything. So Haldir finally decided to do something.
He didn't bother to knock, but pushed the unresisting door open lightly. The room seemed empty and Haldir's heart skipped a beat, but then he saw Celeborn sitting in a high-backed chair, his face blank and his eyes closed, and his heart nearly stopped altogether- had he already passed on to Mandos? But no, for he saw him draw a single breath, and then release it.
"My lord? Please, say something!" Haldir said urgently, nearly shaking the older elf in his haste to rouse him. The silver-haired figure opened half an eye, then closed it again.
"What part of 'I wish to be alone' did you fail to understand, Haldir?" The voice was raspy, tired and sharper than Haldir was used to, but the archer was so relieved he didn't mind.
"My lord, we were worried about you." He tried to explain.
"You shouldn't have been. I'm fine." Celeborn snapped. He just wanted to be alone. It hadn't been that long, had it? "How long have I been here?"
"More than two weeks, my lord." Haldir replied. Celeborn's eyes flew open in real surprise.
"Two weeks? It seemed like mere minutes to me." Celeborn blinked and rubbed his eyes. "She'd really gone, Haldir."
"I know, my lord, but you shall see her again. We all shall." Haldir had been telling himself that every day, "And, as you said yourself, life must go on. Lorien needs a ruler, my lord. The elves are disorganized, for the largest group of us is now in Mirkwood, and wish to withdraw completely from the world of men. There are maybe three dozen of us here, and more in Imladris. We need, I think, to reconsider our relations with the human lands.
"Indeed, you are right." Celeborn's diplomatic skills were roused after a fairly long slumber. "Have we received any messages? Envoys? Anything?"
"None yet, but we have received word from Mirkwood that an envoy will be coming soon, bearing Thranduil's last words, and afterwards not even other elves will be able to find them. He or she should be here in a few days. Will you see them when they come?"
"Of course. Give me a while to make myself presentable, and I will join you downstairs. Is everybody well down there?" He asked sheepishly, feeling slightly guilty about abandoning his people in time of need like that. Haldir nodded.
"Life goes on as smoothly as ever. Take all the time you need, but be warned, "He allowed himself a grin, "I will come to search for you before two weeks have passed, this time."
"excellent, and thank you my friend." Celeborn said warmly. He stood up, stretching stiff muscles, amazed that two whole weeks have passed. It wasn't unusual for elves to be preoccupied for long periods of time, but never without any contact at all with others. He also noticed that he was starving. My uncle, I have been struck like you, but for a very different reason. I suppose women have that effect on us. He thought wryly as he climbed down. The silence saddened him, disturbed only by the wind in the trees and he sweet, sad melody of a single flute. Lorien was nearly empty. At least, he thought ruefully, the kitchens were still working.
An hour later he was washed, fed and lonely again. He missed the bond he had with Galadriel, which had been cut at some point, terribly, and he missed knowing she was there.
There were a surprising number of things to do in the following weeks. Abandoned _telen_ had to be dismantled, patrols sent out to the secure the outer borders of the land, and emissaries from Greenwood and Imlardis received and consulted. Thranduil's farewell message was short and to the point, explaining that the humans in the Dale were friendly enough, but that the elves had grown self-sufficient and didn't wish to interact with the outside world again. He promised to send a report of their well-being every decade or so, and wished them well. He also added that the small community of elves in Ithilien, headed by his son, was flourishing. Celeborn detected a note of pride in those words, and smiled for the first time in weeks.