Legolas was thinking. Not that this was any great or rare occurrence. No, the prince enjoyed thinking and did so quite often. But just now, he was considering his future.
The elf of Rivendell was a greater elf than himself, and Legolas felt that his appearing on the lord's doorstep would be almost an insult. Even through these treacherous times, his wisdom and experience would guide him through unscathed. He would restore Imladris's glory, and just in time for Legolas to turn up on his doorstep as Mirkwood's challenge to his ability. Sacrifice, more like.
No, he wouldn't let that happen. He would not see Mirkwood fall to Imladris. He squared his jaw, and fisted his hands, letting his misgivings dissolve into a wave of resolution.
He'd show Elladan just who was more inventive.
~
Thranduil watched as Legolas swung himself in a most fascinating fashion onto the horse's back. Without any visible encouragement, the horse sprung into a canter and took off down the old road. Thranduil folded his arms and smiled proudly, waiting until his son was out of sight. It didn't take long, as the forest was dark, even at midday, and that horse could really shift.
'M'lord?' A small voice ventured from somewhere around his elbow. He glanced down at the voice's owner, and raised his eyebrows in a regally questioning manner.
'Yes?'
'Is it true, you know, about Master Elrond writing… writing that word?' The young elf asked, with the innocence of only one thousand sheltered years.
'Maybe.' Thranduil said, somewhat impassively.
'Elbereth…' The young elf whispered, and hurried off to share his amazing discovery with his friends.
Thranduil watched them for a while, before diverting his attention back into the darkness that was Mirkwood. For all Mirkwood's disadvantages, Thranduil always thanked that the forest was possibly the biggest irritant in Middle Earth. Enemies were quite welcome to set upon his halls, but only if they could get through the forest. Often he had had to send his men out to rescue the would-be assailants after they stepped off the road. He found it rather amusing. Disturbing, but amusing.
He took a deep breath of the air, and swept around back through the doors into his halls.
~
To any passers-by, Elrond would have seemed to be glaring pensively into the gardens from his balcony in very important fashion. To those who knew him better than the passers-by, he would have been suffering.
There were many things he had been through in his life. By quite a young age he thought himself to have seen much the world could throw at him. He was wrong. There was one thing worse than all the evils in the world, one thing exclusive to him. His own personal demon.
Galadriel was probably the last woman anyone would want as a mother-in-law. For countless reasons she wasn't ideal, the magic, the power, the fact she was prettier than her daughter, but more than all those, when very little else was happening, Galadriel would settle herself before her mirror and watch.
Elrond…?
Can't hear you, sorry.
Do not lie to me Elrond. I know you can hear me.
Still can't hear you. Bad connection.
ELROND HALFELVEN!
He flinched. Good afternoon, Lady.
Where is Arwen? Where is my granddaughter?
Elbereth Gilthoniel, who told her?
I can hear your thoughts, Elrond. She scolded.
Elbereth. He scowled harder. An innocent gardener dropped his trowel. She is away. She needed some time alone.
Then why do you not know where she is?
Elrond made no reply.
Elrond? You have lost my granddaughter, have you not? Just as you lost my Celebrian.
Celebrian decided to leave!
You have no idea where Arwen went?
A thoughtful pause.
… no.
I should have expected it. This time Galadriel lapsed into thoughtful silence. Have you asked your advisors?
Yes. They - He stopped. No, she didn't need the whole story. She might have understood what it all meant.
His horse, and his socks. I know, and I think you should consider Glorfindel's explanation again.
But…
No, he knows of something we do not.
How did you know? Did he tell you? If he did… Elrond tried not to think about it. There were some things a Lady shouldn't be witness to.
No, Glorfindel is innocent. This morning, Celeborn wished to check in the mirror. He wished to speak to you, but instead he discovered all was not well. He called for me, and I endured your inane ramblings whilst he sent riders to see if Arwen was near Lothlórien. When I heard Glorfindel announce his explanation to the dark-haired one that wasn't you, I investigated.
Lady?
Three.
Lady?
Three. Speak to Glorfindel about it. He will tell you all you need to know. I could not get much out of him, he insisted I was not there.
I see. I shall ask him. Lady?
Yes, Elrond?
Insisted you weren't there?
He spoke of something about voices in his head. But do not let that trouble you, I told him to take himself to your counsellor. He will be fine by Wednesday.
Lady Galadriel?
But she was gone. Elrond shook his head, stared with suddenly unglazed eyes at the garden. The gardener wasn't anywhere to be seen. Elrond tugged self-consciously at the sleeves of his robe, and stepped back into his room. He was greeted by a maid setting a tray of tea onto his desk, who he quickly sent away again with a message for Erestor and Glorfindel.
Honestly, he thought bitterly as he picked up a new bundle of letters and thumbed through them, elves needing counsellors. What was the world coming to? Once upon a time it was enough to wave a glass of wine beneath his nose, or at most hire a ranger to smoke hobbit-weed in the same room as him. No, nowadays they needed to discuss their problems.
He dropped the letters back onto his desk, deeming them mostly pointless notes from around Imladris, and paced his room impatiently.
~
'So how does this make you feel?' His soft voice oozed.
Glorfindel frowned, and silently cursed Galadriel. So it wasn't just the Nenya-Vilya connection that made her capable of amazing feats of telepathy. He would have possibly taken the situation better if she had asked to invade his mind and then quietly sifted through the information she needed without disturbing him, but that was not Galadriel's wont. Instead she had marched straight into his mind and demanded him to tell her what he was thinking, and to stop copying her hairstyle.
'It makes me feel…' He paused and looked around the room in search of emotional inspiration. None came. 'It makes me feel like I've been forced to lay on a most uncomfortable chaise and talk to you by some crazy woman Elbereth only knows how many miles away.' He growled.
'Really? And does this draw back on your childhoo - ' Lindir was cut short as Glorfindel stood up, smiled at him, and walked briskly out of the room in one swift movement. Lindir pouted. A singer they wouldn't let sing, a counsellor they wouldn't let counsel… he would have wondered if it was really worth it, had he not found life perversely amusing.
~
Boredom is strange emotion. It can lead down so many paths. For some, it strays to apathy, for others it trails into depression; sometimes it will lead into a torrent of anger, but with the twin sons of Elrond, it lead to stones.
Elrohir was the one to found this dull game. His horse had tripped over a stone, and so when it came to the next stone, Elrohir had carefully steered around it. Finding this involved a minute amount of effort and thought, he had chosen to do it again. Seven stones later, Elladan had caught his brother steering his horse. Seizing the opportunity of very mild entertainment, he had reined his horse so it fell in step behind that of Elrohir, and then with great care and determination, steered around the stone.
~
'I know you're out there.' Galion whispered menacingly into the forest. 'Waiting…'
'Whoever are you speaking to, Galion?' The butler jumped, and snapped around to see the image of that which he feared. Except, this one was older, taller, and possibly more lethal.
'Oh, hello, my Lord.' He smiled nervously.
Thranduil shook his head wearily, dismissing the butler's greeting. 'Have those barrels been sent back?'
'Barrels?' Galion asked lamely, since when did Thranduil take any interest in the barrels?
'You know, those wooden things.' He made a vague gesture, which could have been taken as the shape of a barrel, or a dwarf.
'Of course, my Lord, I just wondered why you would -' Thranduil was a quite a master of warning looks 'Yes, I think they have.'
~
Click-click, click-click, click-click…
Elrond looked up from the parchment, and fixed his advisor with a nasty glare. 'Erestor, must you?'
'My lord, I need to replace my socks somehow.' Erestor said, and obstinately continued to knit.
Elrond silently fumed, and hid himself behind the parchment again. Galadriel had been right, Glorfindel had come up with quite a reasonable answer.
Only, it didn't make sense.
'Glorfindel, how would journeying to Lórien to seek Galadriel's counsel help when we are quite capable of contacting her here?'
'Because we cannot contact her, we have to wait for her to contact us.' Glorfindel said.
'Yes, but soon she will. Oh, she will.' The last words came through gritted teeth.
'Elrond, trust me, we must go to Lórien, there we will find the answers we need.'
Elrond dropped the paper onto his desk, and rested his elbows on the table. Not very lordly behaviour, but once a herald, always a herald. He stared questioningly at Glorfindel for a moment, but he offered no further explanation. He turned to Erestor, who just shrugged sympathetically.
'Who will watch over Imladris while we are away?' Elrond asked, desperately searching for more excuses.
'Your sons, of course.'
'I see.' Elrond drummed his fingers on the desk. 'But surely you do not wish to see her, after all she put you through this morning?'
A frown of disapproval passed across Glorfindel's face. There were no secrets in Imladris, especially since Lindir appointed himself as 'counsellor'. 'She didn't "put me through" anything, Elrond, she just forget to ask if she could be witness to my thoughts.'
'Still, why do you want to see her?' Elrond persisted.
'I don't! Well, I do, but I don't, but not to seem rude, I do. But I don't.' Glorfindel stumbled. 'It's you who doesn't want to see her.' He added quietly.
'I would quite like to see Lothlórien.' Erestor said cheerfully from the back of the room.
Elrond looked at his second advisor, slowly succumbing to realisation that Glorfindel's next words would be -
'Two to one! It's decided.' He grinned.
'Last time I looked, I was in charge, and not you.' Elrond said scornfully.
'Yes, but we are you're advisors, and everyone knows that advisors are the ones with power.' Glorfindel said smugly. Erestor smiled to himself, and continued to click and mouth 'knit one, purl one' to himself.
Elrond collapsed onto the desk with a groan.
~
Asfaloth sniffed experimentally at the ground. Grass. It was like breakfast. Breakfast had green things in it, and grass was all green. But he didn't like the green bits. He liked the orange bits. He stepped forward and sniffed some more. Still green. He looked up lazily, and eyed his verdant surroundings.
He let out a disgusted snort, shook his mane with displeasure, and trotted forward with arrogant grace. He would just have to find breakfast himself.
~
