A bunch of thank-you's for responses to the last chapter: Konzen, Grumpy, Kim (Fetch a defibrillator, somebody!), Jebb ("Not that I'm hinting in the least" about the next story, writes Jebb. Sure, Jebb, uh huh ^_^ ), dd9736 (Hmmm, give the dog a bath, eh—sees comic possibilitiesss, we does, yeeess, precious), Farflung (Yep, Estel will get a chance to say 'Ewestah' and 'Glowfindel' in an upcoming chapter—you can bet that 'Glowfindel' will take it a lot better than 'Ewestah'), Joee (I'm not responsible for any eye injuries! ^_^ ), Ky (Fetch the oxygen, somebody!), Kitsune, MoroTheWolfGod, Karri, and Dragonfly. I really enjoy getting a sense of what works, and I also appreciate receiving ideas for future stories.
Vocabulary
elleth—'elf maiden'
Tawarmaenas—'Forest craft'
Tawarmanadh—'Forest bliss'
"Absolutely not!"
"But Thranduil—"
"No!"
"Thranduil, you must consid—"
No!"
"If you would only lis—"
"NO!"
"Thranduil, YOU MAKE DWARVES LOOK REASONABLE!"
Silence.
Gilglîr glared; Thranduil gaped.
"Now," said Gilglîr at last, adopting a calmer tone of voice, "mayhap we can discuss this matter like two sensible Elves who have lived millennia enough to know that it is not polite to interrupt."
Still stunned by Gilglîr's outburst, Thranduil could do no more than nod. In all the centuries that Thranduil had known him, the seneschal had never shouted. Fumed, yes. Muttered, yes. Growled and complained, yes. But shouted? Never. And at him, no less!
"Tawarmaenas," said Gilglîr, "has never traveled beyond the borders of Greenwood."
"He has been to Dol Guldur."
"As I said, he has never been beyond the borders of this forest."
"After the battle for Dol Guldur, did he not journey onto the plain to bid the foreign Elves and the Rohan riders farewell?"
"Thranduil, he scarcely passed beyond the shadow of the forest that day. Certainly he learned nothing of distant lands by venturing a few feet past the tree line."
"There is time yet."
"You do not know that, Thranduil. If anything should befall you, an heir must be ready to ascend the throne."
Agitated, Thranduil paced back and forth.
"Very well," he conceded finally. "But he may go no further than Lothlórien. He will learn enough on such a journey."
Gilglîr shook his head.
"If he is only to visit one realm, it should be Imladris. Lórien Elves he has met from time to time, but he has little acquaintance with Elrond's folk."
"Nay. Imladris is too far. He will have to cross the Misty Mountains."
"Many cross the Misty Mountains—and he will be well-guarded. I myself will accompany him."
"And I shall remain here alone?" said Thranduil plaintively.
Gilglîr smiled affectionately at his friend. So this was what troubled the King.
"Not alone, surely. You will be surrounded by Elves!"
"But you are my friend, and he is my nephew. Gilglîr, I have only lately grown to love him, and you want to take him away!"
This gave Gilglîr pause. Not so long ago, that Thranduil should utter the word 'love' would have been inconceivable. His desire to keep his nephew by his side must be honored—yet it was still necessary for Tawarmaenas to travel to Rivendell.
"Thranduil," said Gilglîr thoughtfully. "It has been years since you yourself have traveled outside this realm. I believe that you have not done so since you led an army to the Lonely Mountain to demand your share of Smaug's treasure from those wretched Dwarves."
"True, but I have had many cares."
"Indeed, and some were of your own making."
Thranduil colored a little.
"I cannot deny the truth of your words, my friend."
"Then make amends by accompanying us to Lothlórien."
Thranduil suddenly looked excited, almost childishly so.
"Of course," he exclaimed. "Tawarmaenas will become acquainted with other lands, but I need not be parted from him. An excellent plan. But why should I stop at Lórien? I will journey to Imladris as well!"
Now Gilglîr was forced to moderate the King's enthusiasm. Not knowing how things stood in Rivendell, he did not want Thranduil to journey there—no, not until he had determined to a certainty the fate and whereabouts of the missing Prince of Greenwood.
"Is that wise, my Lord?" he asked, reverting to the role of seneschal. "Lórien is an easy distance, and you will not be gone long from your kingdom, but a journey to Imladris would keep you absent many months. If trouble arose, you could be easily recalled from Lothlórien, but many weeks might pass before you would return from the realm of Elrond."
Reluctantly, Thranduil had to concede that Gilglîr was right. But then his face brightened.
"Gilglîr, before Tawarmaenas departs for Lothlórien and Imladris, he should visit Esgaroth. He will someday need to negotiate trade treaties with the Men of Laketown—yes, and he should even visit the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain. Our relations with those folk are awkward, but they must be maintained. And to those lands I may journey, may I not?"
So anxious was Thranduil to remain by Tawarmaenas' side that he was in fact appealing to Gilglîr for permission, as if he were an elfling. Gilglîr's heart ached for the King, lonely so long and now frantic for the companionship of the Elf whom, he believed, was his only surviving kinsman.
"I think that is an excellent idea, Thranduil. Tawarmaenas should indeed become acquainted with the folk of Esgaroth and the Lonely Mountain, and you should accompany him. For that part of the journey, I think I need not escort Tawarmaenas. Since the death of the dragon Smaug, those lands have been much less beset with peril than formerly. And if I remain at the Great Hall during that time, then only for the later journey to and fro Lothlórien will Greenwood be left with neither of us in command."
What Gilglîr was really thinking, however, was that, while he remained in Greenwood, Thranduil would have ample opportunity for private conversation with his nephew. His speech and behavior would not be constrained by the presence of the seneschal.
Thranduil eagerly agreed with this new plan, perhaps because he, too, realized that it would allow him to devote much time to Tawarmaenas.
"Ah, of course, Gilglîr. And our return from the Lonely Mountain and Laketown will take us back through northern Greenwood, and then you may join us, and together we will ride to Lothlórien. When the time comes for Tawarmaenas to depart Lórien to cross the Misty Mountains to Rivendell, I shall at that point return to Greenwood. Yes, Gilglîr, this plan will do nicely!"
A fortnight later, an excited Tawarmaenas, and an equally excited Thranduil, set out for Esgaroth. The King marveled at the fact that he was journeying for pure pleasure—under the guise of a diplomatic mission, of course, but that did not diminish his joy at being free of all responsibility save to converse with and entertain his nephew.
"Over there, Tawarmaenas, was the tree your mother got stuck in when she was a mere half century in age."
"How was it she became trapped?" Tawarmaenas had heard the story several times from his mother, but he longed to hear it again.
"The Lord and Lady of Lothlórien had arrived for trade negotiations, and our father had planned a great feast in their honor. Tawarmanadh was dressed in her most elaborate gown for the occasion. She knew she shouldn't climb in such a gown, but she did anyway—she was always willful, your mother! The gown caught on a branch. She wriggled this way and that, but couldn't free herself. She was terrified of what her nursemaid would say if she tore the gown, but she was too ashamed to call for help. So there she sat, hour after hour, whilst search parties scoured the forest. My Ada told me that several must have passed the base of the tree where she sat, but she said nary a word!"
"And you were the one who found her in the end."
"In truth, she allowed me to find her, else I would have had no more luck than the other searchers. I slipped out of the Great Hall—my father did not want another of his elflings wandering the forest when one was already missing!—and I quietly set out in search of her, calling her name softly as I went. When I passed by the tree, she heard me and answered back just as softly. I climbed up to her and freed her. Then the two of us slipped back into the Hall through a little used door that I knew of, and Tawarmanadh went into an out-of-the way room and crawled into a bed. At about that time, Galadriel suggested that Thranduil order the Hall to be thoroughly searched once again—'She may have been overlooked,' she declared—and within short order Tawarmanadh was found 'asleep' in her retreat."
"It is lucky that Galadriel thought to suggest that the Hall be searched a second time."
Thranduil laughed. "Luck probably had nothing to do with it! I am sure that Galadriel knew what we were about—certainly my father was not fooled! I think it does not take Galadriel's mirror for a parent to read the mind of a young one—not if the parent is paying attention!"
"You must have been pleased that your sister would allow you to find her."
Thranduil nodded, smiling at the pleasure that the memory gave him, the image of a trusting sister who would hide from all others but not from him.
"I was indeed. Tawarmanadh and I were always close. Truth be told, sometimes she followed me to places where she had no business being—although more than once it turned out all the better for me that she had! She was fearless, and I will never forget the times she came to my rescue."
"Such as when she drove off the spider?" said Tawarmaenas eagerly.
"Aye. Thank the Valar for her stubbornness—and courage—that day."
"A delegation was visiting from Esgaroth, was that not so, uncle?"
"Yes, and my father asked me and my friends to entertain several lads who had accompanied the delegation—apprentices and sons of traders. My friends and I decided to take them about the forest, and Tawarmanadh was following us out from the Hall when the boys objected. 'We won't be able to have any fun if she tags along,' they cried, 'for she is a girl and will soon be sniveling.' I should have said, 'That girl is my sister, and she is braver than the lot of you of combined.' Instead, I drove her off with belittling words—I was the one who lacked courage that day."
"But she followed you," said Tawarmaenas with glee.
"That she did. I had no joy that day, thinking of the ill way that I had served my sister. When nightfall came, I was reluctant to return to the Hall, for I was ashamed and loath to face Tawarmanadh. I lingered behind the others. So it came to pass that I was alone when night fell—or so I thought. Suddenly I heard hissing and snapping on all sides, and it seemed as if all the spiders in Greenwood were scuttling toward me. Even before I had time to gather my wits, a little fury of an elleth came leaping from behind a bush, knife in hand, and like warriors, fighting back-to-back my sister and I were able to fend off the spiders until help arrived. Without her aid, I am sure I would have been lost."
"My mother had spirit," said Tawarmaenas proudly.
"Aye, as she showed on the day that she died, the day that she gifted you with life even as her own slipped away."
For a little while the two Elves rode silently side by side, but thoughtful rather than grieving.
"I wish," Thranduil said at last, "that Laiqua had had a sister by his side when he found himself trapped in a spider's web."
"Why did you never remarry so that he might have had siblings?"
"I convinced myself that looking at another maiden would have proved me faithless. I know now that I was wrong. Allowing joy back into my life would not have been disloyal to Laurelässe—no, no more than loving you proves me untrue to the memory of my son. The wise among Men have a saying: "The quality of mercy is not strain'd, / It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven / Upon the place beneath." One could say the same of love, I think. It need not be doled out but may be given freely, and no matter how much love is gifted, the heart need never run dry. Remember that, my son."
They journeyed on again in silence for a time until the king began to hum and then sing. "Laurelässe Laiqualässe Legolas," Thranduil chanted softly. "Names as beautiful as any song. How could I have forbidden for so long the singing of such a melody?"
Tawarmaenas had been stunned to hear Thranduil say that he loved him. Never had he hoped to hear those words. Now he desperately wished that he could comfort the King by telling him that Laiqua had not perished but dwelt still in Middle Earth. He knew, however, that Gilglîr was right. In the absence of proof, the claim that his son still lived would only agitate Thranduil and throw him into an agony of doubt. The King had come to terms with the assumed death of his son, and for the time being it was better so. Holding his tongue, Tawarmaenas rode on beside his uncle toward Esgaroth.