Chapter 15:
The rain dripped on the leaves and onto the travellers below as they made their way towards the forests of Greenwood and over the Riven Andurin. Shifting in their seats, the travellers looked up towards the grey skies as the rain pelted down mercilessly. Their cloaks dripped the rain onto the ground as they rode steadily over the muddy terrain and reached a hill overlooking Greenwood.
Smiling, they quietened their horses and moved silently down the hill and across the grass into the forests. Looking around in wonderment, most of the elves kept silent but only three kept their eyes on the path ahead leading to the heart of the forest and Thranduil's palace. These three had seen Greenwood before, many times in fact had they crossed the borders of Greenwood and they were wary of the perils ahead. For orc often roamed these woods, dangerous and deadly to even the most hardened ranger.
Sensing something, Morié held up her hand for quiet as she heard the patter of slippered feet on the wet moss. As she turned in her saddle, she could see camouflaged elves pointing their arrows at them in warning from the trees. Inclining her head gracefully, she flashed a ring her uncle had given her and the elves came out of the trees and surrounded them. As Aragorn attempted to grab his sword, Morié put her hand on his in warning and shook her head briefly. Then, she bowed in the saddle to the leader who took the bridles and began to lead them along the paths towards the Palace of Thranduil.
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As they entered the glade, the company gasped in unison at the palace. It was a place of beauty that rose before them and shimmered in the dappled sunlight. At the foot of the steps stood a tall elf, his body flattered in robes of white and green, his blonde hair streaming in the breeze and the years doing nothing to his face. A circlet was bound to his forehead, in which shone a peerless emerald. By his side was a sword, the steel gleaming in the sunlight and the tip wavering slightly. As the horses drew near, the elf drew his sword and pointed it at them in silent challenge.
Morié hopped down from her stallion and bowed immediately to the elf, who looked surprised at the cloaked stranger bowing before him without a word. Sheathing the sword, he beckoned them inside as the soldiers stabled the horses and then followed cautiously. Turning and dismissing the guards, the elf spoke in a rich baritone that echoed through the halls.
"What is your purpose here, stranger and how do you know who I am? I spoke not a word but yet you bowed to me."
"I knew who you were, Prince Legolas, because I believe we have met before in Imladris. Now, we have urgent business to discuss with your father, so we will leave you and be on our way." And with that, she signalled the group to follow her and walked off smartly to the throne room, where she entered without a word.
The King was about to call the next item of business when a cloaked elf entered and handed the steward a piece of paper. In a surprised voice, he announced to the King and his advisors. "My Lord, the envoy from Imladris has arrived and seeks an audience." Immediately, the cloaked figure bowed low on one knee in a humble sign of submission.
"Rise, stranger and take off the cloak you wear," announced the King. "We must see you to do business more equitably."
So, the elf took of her cloak and the King gasped as he saw that Elrond's messenger was an elleth and not the elf he thought she was. Curtsying to him, the elleth smiled at the bewildered King Thranduil.
"Forgive me sire," Morié spoke quietly, "but I was unaware that you thought I was something that I was not. Perhaps you remember me from Imladris many years ago?"
As Thranduil stared at her, he remembered the girl who had interrupted his meeting. Nodding to her, he beckoned her forwards so that he could see in the light of the candles. Staring at her, he smiled and bid her to bring her other envoys to the forefront. As she turned, she failed to see the King's smile darken and then return to normal as she turned back.
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"My lord, it seems my party has been detained," spoke the elleth cautiously. "Perhaps I will suffice? My Uncle has prepared a list of details about the mission you requested. I have many strong elves ready to support your troops if you may need it. "
As the King banged his fist violently on the table, she jumped in surprise as his face turned crimson. Turning, she saw the group standing in the doorway bowing. The hood had fallen off Aragorn's head, however, and his bare face and lack of elvish ears was there for all to see. Yelling furiously at the group, Thranduil gestured and his guards moved quickly. Grabbing the arms of her company, they dragged them off down the hall as her group fought against them.
Legolas ran into the throne room just in time to see Thranduil slap Morié across the face violently. Steaming, Legolas stormed across the floor and grabbed his father's hand just as he slapped the elleth again. Lying across the ground dazed, Morié could do nothing as the two fought each other. As the confusion left her, she stood and was immediately grabbed by a guard. As she fought against him, Morié turned and saw Legolas overcome by his father. Then, she was dragged around the corner and into the dungeons.
Throwing her inside a cell roughly, the guard smirked and shut the door with a resounding bang. As Morié held her ringing and bleeding head, she remembered that she had paper and quills in her cloak. Scribbling a note silently, she crossed to the tiny window and whistled out into the forest. As she heard the fluttering of wings, she reached out and caught a small dove. Whispering to it, she fixed the paper to the small dove and bade it fly away. Then, she sat back and cried into her lap as blood dripped from a deep cut that Thranduil's slap had opened....
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Galadriel was tending her garden bed when she heard the whistle of a dove in the distance. As she watched, a small bird alighted on her shoulder and dropped a small note into her lap. Patting the bird and putting it into her birdbath, she opened the note and read it carefully. Crossing the garden, she stormed upstairs and into her chamber where Celeborn was siting. Throwing the scrap of parchment in his lap, she started to pace as her husband read the note and looked up cautiously.
"Meleth nín, is this true? Is this from our grand-daughter?"
As Galadriel nodded in dismay, Celeborn stood and wrapped an arm around his wife. He stroked her hair as he spoke to her quietly. "Well then, Meleth e-guilen, we will have to pay Thranduil a little visit, won't we?"
As the two snuggled up together, Galadriel kissed him passionately and they were soon involved in a tickle fight that lasted well into the night...
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Meleth nin - My love
Meleth e-guilen - Love of my life