VI – "The Eldar Shall Rise Again and Prosper!"

"What did ye think of my little speech?" Dis asked, looking at Gimli with uncertainty.

"Well, it woke me up!"

"That's the best compliment I coulda hoped for!" Dís exclaimed, embracing her cousin roughly. Legolas laughed as he knocked at his chamber door – the party had come to retrieve Alora. A moment later Lisse appeared at the door and smiled.

"Aduial vaer to you, Sire. Lady Alora is awake and well." Lisse bowed her head slightly, a smile still on her face. Legolas returned the smile, if somewhat forcefully. "Did you have to call for the doctor's aid?"

"No, Lord, I merely washed her brow and put her to bed."

Legolas sighed and put his hand on Lisse's shoulder. "Hannon le, Lisse. Do you think that Alora can accompany us?"

"Ask her yourself, Lord."

Alora appeared at the door, rubbing her eyes. "Hello, Legolas! Hello, dwarves. I drank more ale than I usually do! That was a bad idea. Next time, I'll exercise discretion!"

Gimli felt inclined to say something about drinking unknown liquids, but decided to hold that comment for another time. Besides, he was getting impatient with Alora's coddling. "Nana, would you like to come with us for the rest of the tour?"

"Aye, of course! You can fill me in on what I missed at the council."

Legolas smiled. "Dís gave a wonderful speech! I am most sure that the council was moved by it." He looked to Lisse and bowed his head. "Thank you again, Brannon. It seems I overreact when it comes to Alora. Would you like to take a respite for the rest of the day? I believe you deserve it."

"Thank you, Sire, I would appreciate that." She quietly left the room.

"Well, family, let us be off! Dís, you absolutely must see our people's homes in the trees. Are you fearful of heights?"

"I live in a mountain, Legolas."

"Aye, very well then. Let's see if your stomach can handle our telain and rope-bridges!

Voronwë hurried toward the meeting place, hoping that his visage would not betray his excitement. He had no desire to speak to anyone of his destination. He was painfully aware of his long, aged stride echoing on the polished oak that served as pathways in Thranduil's halls.

"Just a little farther, old lad. Hurry up!" A late arrival was not an option he relished, for he did not want to miss a single detail. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Elves and a hobbit or two went about their market business, but no one spared the silver-haired elf a second glance. Relieved, Voronwë resumed his stride.

Finally he spotted the back-alley that would lead him to the "empty" warehouse. He greeted a regular of his tavern before turning onto yet another alley. Storage cellars and warehouses' doors were marked with the signets of the guilds or individuals they belonged to. The Sindar elf's eyes lingered on one of the King's personal stores before stopping in front of a warehouse owned by a minor noble. He looked around before knocking at the door. A young elf in skullcap and mail greeted him. Voronwë recited the Númenórean phrase he had admitted to memory so many years ago.

"The Eldar shall rise again and prosper."

The guard repeated the phrase and smiled from under her helm. Without another word, she opened the door and stepped aside for him. The smell of a roasting fire and the quiet conversations of many elves greeted him as he stepped inside.

"Suilaid, mellyn nín. Forgive me my late arrival. I had dwarves to expel from my tavern," he addressed the elf sitting at the head of one of the long tables.

The elf was shorter than most seated about him. He was slight and kind-faced, and wore ancient jewels that spoke of some long-lost age of glory. The name that those in the room knew him as, Thranduiwendil, spoke of his devotion to Legolas' father. His reason for calling the council betrayed his generousity and etiquette, however.

"Mae tollen," he began in a soft, clear voice. "There is no need to ask forgiveness, Voronwë. We have been merely discussing everyday topics. Now that you have arrived, we can bring the main topic to light. Please, sit, and take a drink.

"Now, you all know why I have called this meet. Although our last Lord never asked me to, I felt it was important to keep watch over his son and his actions. I, and many of you, have done so. He has been… troubling since he returned from his journey. Something he witnessed or did during the War of the Ring changed him."

"Maybe the fact that he was not a king before the War of the Ring constituted to that change?" Morion said matter-of-factly.

"We all have seen Legolas' odd behaviour," Thranduiwendil said, ignoring Morion's taunt. "His brash choice of Queen and his self-appointed heir have been, fortunately, somewhat successful. Both show a sense of maturity, even if they possess many faults."

A murmur of agreement wafted through the crowd.

"However," he continued, raising his voice above the hubbub, "We must address the issues that have arisen. No doubt we have all witnessed the… joy our King and his Queen have for each other. I believe we can all agree that a man and a woman need to be attracted to each other to be happy in their union.

"The affection that those two show towards each other is, however, nothing short of insufferable. It is none of our business what they do in their own chambers, but their actions in formal company are a disgrace."

"Aye! They are constantly kissing and worse during meals! When that fool of a hobbit, Alora, gets drunk, it only degenerates!" A tall, soot-haired elf growled.

"Alora! The very name makes my stomach swim," Ailinel, a baker, said, spitting out the name like a curse.

"Do you all feel this way about our Queen?" Thranduiwendil asked, seeming none too surprised about the other elves' reactions. Most of them nodded.

"I agree with you," he continued. "I wish no harm on the lass, but she is an ill influence on our King. I have been watching them, hoping that she might change, or that their obvious differences would drive the two apart, but it has not happened."

"Her actions have not and will not improve! Just today I saw her be taken to her chambers, unconscious. Most likely from another ale binge," Varno said, shaking his head angrily. It seemed that even those closest to the Queen had little patience for her.

"I disagree with you, Varno, that Alora cannot improve herself. If she is asked, warned, if you will, she will change. She will do so for Legolas and Gimli's sake, if not for her own."

"And if she does not change?"

"Aye!" Turwaith, a former servant of Legolas, agreed. "Her carnal appetite is not something she can control. I have witnessed this, more than any of you have, and more than I ever wished to. She cannot simply stop them."

Thranduiwendil sighed. "Then there will be only one solution to this problem. Morion here tells me Lady Dís of the Lonely Mountain kingdom spoke about strengthening the bonds of elf and dwarf on the land. I know nothing of the dwarves, other than I personally have no ill will towards them."

Thranduiwendil was in the minority in this regard, as many of the elves shook their heads in response. None voiced their objection, however, for their deep respect of Thranduiwendil was greater even than their inherent prejudice.

"I do know that if she refuses, Alora's reign over us must end. Time has told that she will not leave due to marital problems. She must leave or change; that is obvious. She exercises a corrupt influence over our King and his subjects. We will… ask her to change, or exile herself, firstly. But if she refuses both, we must take that as a declaration of war. We must take care of this… little problem quickly and efficiently if our King is to survive. This would only be one step towards what the dwarf wisely suggested."

Morion looked aghast at what Thranduiwendil was suggesting. "Are you still in possession of rational thought? You are suggesting something not possible."

"It would not be so impossible if we had faith in our abilities."

"Nevermind that," Morion replied, waving her hand dismissively. "Do you realize how well she is protected? I will be the first to say that Alora Hayward is a pointless lush, but do not be a fool!"

"Lady, do not worry about protection. We have agents thick in her nets; elves who are close to her on a daily basis. But it might not even come to that. If she accepts our warning, it need not be carried out."

The crowd spoke amongst themselves in hushed tones, unsure of what was so devious about Thranduiwendil's plans.

"My Lord, what does Morion disagree with?" Varno asked, voicing the crowd's thoughts.

"He wants to smite out Alora's life!" Morion accused, keeping her eyes on Thranduiwendil.

"My Lord? Is that really necessary?"

"Of course it is!" retorted Naurwen, an elf-maid with fiery eyes. "We've all seen the kind of indecencies Alora has caused Legolas to commit! If she does not accept our warning, then she must die. For this kingdom's health," she added, shooting Morion a look of contempt. "Why do you oppose this course of action, Morion? Did you not once attempt the same?"

Morion glared back, none too pleased with that reminder of her act of passion. "My attempt was not murder, and I will not discuss it any further with you, Naurwen." She turned her eyes on Thranduiwendil once more. "She need not die. All we need to do is scare her a little."

"You know that would not work. She may be flighty, but she is not a coward," Naurwen said, obviously not quite finished with Morion.

Morion did not peel her eyes away from Thranduiwendil's face. "And why are you so adamant about killing her off, Naurwen? Do you think yourself to be the next Queen of our realm? Legolas would throw himself off a cliff before he weds again."

"Why are we making such a big issue of this?" Voronwë asked, rising. "Perhaps we do not wish to see them… fornicating, but that is no reason to kill Alora."

Thranduiwendil shook his head. "It is not merely about sexual deviance. Unfortunately, she has affected matters of state, as well."

"Aye, remember her encounter with the Wood-men? We almost fought a war over her," a guard named Lithdir said.

"What of all the times our Lord passed Gimli the throne so he could spend time with the wench?"

"Do not put the blame on Lord Gimli," Morion said to Varno.

"I am not, Lady."

Thranduiwendil nodded gravely. "You see, my Lady? Those examples and countless others attest to one grim reality: the lass will be the death of this kingdom."

"We have no need of harming anyone! Thranduiwendil, listen to reason. I do not enjoy her presence, but we do not have to harm her! Perhaps we could… forcibly remove her from Legolas' side."

Naurwen laughed. "For all your knowledge of how Legolas reasons, you are a fool, Morion. If anyone laid a hand on her he would imprison them without question. You know this."

Morion ignored Naurwen and spoke to the other elves. "If you kill her, you will drive Legolas away. You know that as soon as she dies, he will sail to the Undying Lands. He will leave Middle-earth. Is that what you want? We speak of carrying out Thranduil's will. Ask yourselves, friends: do you think it would be his will to depose of his son over something so ridiculous?"

The elves were silent as they weighed Morion's words.

"So be it. We will ask her to change, or leave. If she refuses, we will act accordingly. Whatever Legolas does in response must be taken as an inevitable consequence," Thranduiwendil said gravely.

"Then I cannot be a part of this party. I am sorry." Morion turned and started for the door. "Is there any else who opposes this unnecessary and useless action?" Reluctantly, a handful of elves rose to leave. Most, however, stayed.

Morion looked at Thranduiwendil with a last, pleading look. "There was a time when murder was an option you would have never even considered, Thranduiwendil. What happened?"

"I was an idealist then, my friend. Idealists cannot survive in this realist world."

"But the death of a helpless halfling lass over something so trivial as this?"

"What needs to be done will be done." Morion sighed as she quietly closed the door.

"Lord? What if they prove traitorous?" Varno asked, nervously looking at the other elves, as if they, too, might leave without notice.

Thranduiwendil sighed. "No matter. They know not who our agent is. We will warn our Queen tomorrow. Let us hope that she will heed it."

Sindarin:

Aduial vaer – good evening

Nana – mom

Brannon – Lady

Telain – flets

Suilaid – greetings (everyone)

Mellyn nín – my friends

Thranduiwendil – devoted to Thranduil

Mae tollen – welcome