Dragonfly: Yes, the Elves and Dwarves did work together, so, even though Legolas still has no love for Dwarves, we can be fairly hopeful that, when the time comes, he will be able to at least cope with a certain Dwarf until such time as respect and affection replace dislike and suspicion.
Kelly Kragen: When I was a teenager, a neighbor, who was a lawyer, used to try to persuade me to become one as well. Once, after I had made a very convincing argument as to why I should not become a lawyer, he complimented me on my logic and persuasiveness—but, he went on to add, that just proved that I ought to be a lawyer! Talk about a Catch 22!
Joee: I think Tathar deserves his own series. What do you think?
Lomiothiel: You're catching up with me!
Beta reader: Dragonfly, who this time caught omitted words and a nasty continuity problem. Joee is no doubt disappointed because Dragonfly leaves nothing for anyone else to catch! (Now I've probably called down the evil eye on Dragonfly, who will miss something next time, which Joee will promptly pounce on with a triumphant Ah hah! Sorry, Dragonfly. )
Chapter 30: A Fleeting Reunion
Tawarmaenas strode smiling into Thranduil's private chamber, where the King sat sharing the usual evening glass of wine with Gilglîr.
"Ah," exclaimed Thranduil cheerfully at the sight of him, "now it will not be so quiet and dull in the Great Hall."
The Seneschal pretended to be distressed, but then he too broke into a smile.
"Mae govannen, Tawarmaenas. Shall we be momentarily expecting outraged pursuers from Esgaroth, or did you not have a good time?"
"We had an excellent time. We were very well entertained, and Legolas felt that the final terms of the trade agreement were fair and advantageous to all parties."
"Well," retorted Thranduil, "as long as they were fair and advantageous to us."
"Now, Thranduil," chided Gilglîr, "you know that in the long run strong alliances are bred only by agreements that treat all parties justly."
"Yes, yes, I know," conceded Thranduil, "as does my son, too, apparently."
"Legolas," Tawarmaenas put in, "has sent you a letter, uncle."
Thranduil beamed. "As good and dutiful a son as he is a negotiator."
Smiling, he accepted the letter from Tawarmaenas. Breaking the seal, he began to read it but had hardly perused the first line when he gasped and dropped his wine glass, which shattered, the red wine pooling upon the flagstones.
"Uncle," cried Tawarmaenas, "what is the matter!?"
Gilglîr knelt by the chair of his friend.
"Thranduil! What ails you!?"
Unable to speak, Thranduil handed Gilglîr the letter. The Seneschal paled as he read it. When he had finished, he jumped to his feet.
"Thranduil, I shall at once lead a force to Lake-town and from thence to the Lonely Mountain."
Thranduil found his voice.
"No, you will remain here with Tawarmaenas. I shall myself lead the warriors."
"But, Thranduil, is it wise for both the King and the Prince—"
Thranduil raised his hand to silence him.
"Gilglîr, if Legolas should die, then Tawarmaenas is the guarantor of the future of this realm, and he will ascend at once to the throne. For even if I were to survive the death of my son, I swear to you that I would depart for the Undying Lands because never more would I find joy in Middle Earth. Gilglîr, I shall return either with my son or not at all. Look to it!"
With that, Thranduil strode from the chamber, leaving behind a friend and a nephew who were both ashen-faced. "Gilglîr," whispered Tawarmaenas, "what was in the letter?"
"As we speak," said Gilglîr somberly, "your cousin without a doubt battles Orcs who would destroy this kingdom could they reach its borders—but Legolas would give his life rather than let that happen. May the Valar protect such courage!"
Thranduil rode within the very hour, not even waiting for dawn. Such warriors as could be summoned on short notice rode with him, and Gilglîr promised that others, as many as could be assembled, would be sent after. Although not a great horseman, Thranduil had never been unkind to his mounts, but on this occasion it must be confessed that he pushed the horses hard as he and his companions galloped alongside the banks of the Forest River. Not even barrel-riders could have made better speed, and in a remarkably short time the Elves were galloping along the shores of the Long Lake.
King Bain had known that Thranduil would ride to Lake-town as soon as he received Legolas' message, and sentinels watched for his arrival. As soon as the elven troop was spotted, word of their approach was carried to King Bain, who hastened out to greet them.
"He is safe," cried King Bain as soon as Thranduil was in hearing. "He is safe!" This was a greeting lacking in decorum, but Bain was not going to stand on ceremony because he feared that Thranduil would do him an injury if he did not at once assure him that his son was well.
"I have just received a letter," Bain continued in a rush, "and in it Legolas reports that all have survived the battle and that a great massacre of Orcs has taken place and that King Dáin is very grateful and that they have been showered with praise and gifts and that Dáin has offered them most favorable terms." As you can see, by now Bain was babbling, but, as Thranduil had not yet spoken, Bain was anxiously filling up the silence. Truth be told, Thranduil was once again incapable of speech, but this time from joy. At last he managed to utter something, but it was the nonsensical sort of thing that a parent will blurt out when he has just been put in dreadful fear for the life of his child.
"When I get my hands on that youngling, I—I—I shall throttle him!"
Bain broke into a smile, for he knew that the crisis was now over. Thranduil carried on for several more minutes, itemizing how he would wreak this or that penalty upon his son, and then at last he leaned weakly against his horse, burying his face in its mane.
"Come, Thranduil," said Bain kindly, "both you and your horse are sweating. My groom will look to your steed, and you must come with me to my Hall, where you may bathe and change your clothes and then join me in a quiet meal followed by a glass of wine drunk over a leisurely conversation."
"Two glasses, if you please," joked Thranduil faintly. "Or mayhap three or four!"
"Ah, but you must keep your wits about you, for your son will return shortly, perchance even as early as tomorrow. He did not want to linger at the Lonely Mountain. Apparently he has no great love for Dwarves! Although I must say that he showed an admirable ability to ally himself with them when the need arose. That bodes well for his future, for a leader cannot afford to indulge his prejudices."
"I am merely glad that he has a future," said Thranduil wryly.
"Yes, if you do not wring his neck," retorted Bain, smiling broadly now. Together the two monarchs strolled into the King's Hall, and Thranduil was soon soaking his sore limbs—if he had not spared his horse, neither had he spared himself!
Meanwhile, Legolas had also not been sparing himself. He was indeed hastening back to Lake-town, but not for any dislike of Dwarves. Amongst the carcasses of Orcs had been discovered the body of a Man. This was very likely the spy, Legolas knew, and the corpse bore a ring that was all too familiar to Legolas, for he had seen many like it suspended on chains round the necks of the traitor Elves who had attempted to murder him. This news he had been afraid to commit to writing, for he knew it was altogether likely that the second spy bore an identical ring. If his letter should go astray and not reach the hands of King Bain, it was possible that this second man would get wind of the discovery. If he did, no doubt he would flee or at the very least hide the ring so that he could not be unmasked. If that were to happen, they might never learn the full details of their enemies' plans or the number and names of the Men who had turned traitor, if indeed there were any other than the two spies.
Unfortunately, even though Legolas had kept secret the discovery of the ring, it was inevitable that the traitor concealed in Lake-town should hear of the complete and utter defeat of the Orc army. The night that the news arrived, a figure swathed in a cloak crept through the deserted streets, keeping to the shadows. Once at the lakefront, he stole to the end of a pier and tossed a glittering object into the water. Then he drew forth a vial and unstoppered it. His master had told him that, were he in danger of being captured and questioned, he should drink the potion within and his memory would be wiped clean. "Yea," his master had assured him, "even should you be tortured, your answers will bespeak your innocence." The Man greedily tossed back the potion and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He belched and smirked. "Pretty tasty for a potion," he chortled. Then he took one step toward land. It was his last step. Suddenly he clutched at his throat and fell forward, his face contorted in agony. He writhed about upon the dock, and his struggles took him to the very edge. Rolling off the dock, with a small splash the conspirator disappeared into the lake. Later King Bain noticed that one of his lesser advisors had disappeared, and he suspected that this had been the spy. His suspicions, however, could never be proven.
At the moment, though, Legolas cherished hopes that the spy could be uncovered and the details of the conspiracy laid bare. On he rode, circling round the Long Lake rather than waiting for boats to ferry him and his companions. As the rays of the rising sun reached out and touched the ends of the wharfs at Lake-town, he galloped into the town and drew up before the King's Hall. Dismounting from his horse, he placed a foot upon the lowest step, but before he could ascend the stairs, the doors were flung open and his father came flying down in a most undignified fashion, seizing his son in his arms and crushing him to his chest.
"Ooooph, Ada, I cannot breathe," gasped Legolas.
King Bain had followed his father down the steps, albeit in a more stately manner.
"Better this," Bain called to Legolas, "than that he should throttle you, as he has been threatening to do."
Thranduil laughed and stepped back, although he still kept his hands upon his son's shoulders.
"Whate'er possessed you to run headlong into danger?" he scolded. "But we will talk of that later. You must be hungry and tired. Come inside. I am going to indulge myself by sitting and watching you eat a hearty breakfast."
"Will you not eat something yourself?"
"No, I mean to feast my eyes upon the sight of my child! That will be sustenance enough."
In fact, both Thranduil and Legolas enjoyed a very good breakfast, which they took privately, as King Bain knew they would want to have time together. Later they joined King Bain and Prince Brand in the King's private chamber to discuss the late events. Legolas told them of the discovery of the ring, which he drew forth. King Bain took it in his hand and studied it thoughtfully.
"It is a plain ring, with no devices," he observed.
"Have you seen such a ring on the hand of any Man hereabouts?" asked Legolas.
Bain shook his head.
"It is hardly the sort of thing that I would have noticed. You, Brand?"
His son likewise shook his head.
"What is to be done with it?" asked Thranduil, "for it seems to me that this ring may be a peril to anyone who comes near it. Others may be tempted to bear it, with untoward consequences."
"I think," said Legolas, "that it ought to be sent to join the jewels that adorn the bones of Smaug the Worm. There let it lie until the world's end."
That very day Legolas himself paddled out to the spot where rested the dragon's bones. Shivering in the cool breeze that blew across the lake, he leaned over the gunnel and allowed the ring to slip from his palm. Over and over it tumbled as it sank deep in the water, coming to rest at last under the claw of the dragon. Legolas was well satisfied, for he knew that no one would dare descend to wrest the bauble from the grip of the great worm.
While Legolas had been rapidly galloping toward Lake-town, Gandalf had been riding at a more leisurely pace in search of the Imladris Elves. At last his quest was rewarded as he spied upon the horizon a line of riders slowly proceeding toward him. He squinted into the sun, trying to descry them.
"Surely those are Elves," he muttered to himself, "but the most disreputable Elves I have every seen in all my years in Middle Earth."
Gandalf spoke the truth. Their garments having dried, the Elves had donned them, but in several cases, the clothes were so tattered that the wearers were little better than naked. Gandalf struggled to keep a straight countenance as he rode toward them. He drew up alongside Elrond and pretended not to notice that the Lord of Imladris was clad only in leggings and boots.
"Mae govannen, Elrond."
"Mae govannen, Mithrandir."
"Fine weather we are having."
"Yes, Mithrandir, the weather is fine—now."
"A little warm, perhaps—but you look very comfortable, garbed as you are."
"Say it, Mithrandir."
"Say what, Elrond?"
"That I am dressed in an unusual fashion for an Elf."
"Indeed, that is not true."
"You think not?"
"Aye—for it would be stretching the truth to say that you are dressed at all!"
"Hah. Hah."
"Yes, I thought it a witty reply."
"There have been times," Elrond reminded him, "when you have been dressed little better."
"I cannot deny it," smiled Gandalf. "And in memory of those times, I would like to lend you my cloak. I shall do very well in my leggings and surcoat."
"I will not turn down your offer," Elrond answered, smiling in turn.
"And," continued Gandalf, "in recompense for all those times that I have eaten at your board, I should like to provide you with provisions, for, although Elves be thin, they generally do not look as if the next breeze will carry them off, as do the members of your company!"
Elves, wizard, and boy dismounted, and Gandalf's packhorses were unladed. Truly the Rohirrim had been generous! The stars above Rohan looked down upon a mighty feast that night and such laughter and singing as the Imladris Elves had not given voice to for many a day.
The next morning, however, Gandalf and Elrond turned to the serious matter of the events that had transpired over the past several weeks. Gandalf of course knew nothing of the attempt to assassinate Legolas, and he was very concerned to hear of the rings that the traitor Elves had borne.
"So the rings apportioned to your company were stolen away during the second skirmish," he mused. "'Tis plain that their maker does not want them to fall into our hands. But several were saved, you say, those that were taken by the Mirkwood Elves to the Great Hall."
"Yes," said Elrond, "and sometime no doubt you will want to examine them to learn whatsoe'er you may of their devising and powers."
"Not 'sometime'," said Gandalf briskly. "At once! I had hoped to return with you to Rivendell, but 'tis plain I must ride at once for Mirkwood, and then on to Lothlórien to seek counsel from the Lady Galadriel."
"Mithrandir," exclaimed Elrond, "you stood on the brink of death not so long ago, and now again you would ride merrily off into the maw of danger."
"Not merrily, surely."
"'Tis a figure of speech, Mithrandir, as you well know!"
"Well, well, I do not travel into lands any worse than the ones you will pass through. You will encounter Orcs and Trolls enough on your way home."
"Indeed we will not. We do not plan to undertake the passage through the Misty Mountains. Instead, we will make for the Gap of Rohan and so journey north through Dunland and Eregion. The denizens of Dunland will not venture to accost us, and we fear no danger in Hollin."
"Ah, when you reach the Gap of Rohan you will be quite near to Isengard. Could I trouble you to carry a message from me to Saruman? He should be told of these late happenings, for rings are an especial study of his."
"True," said Elrond thoughtfully. "But," he resumed briskly, "would it not be better if you visited him yourself, after you have been to Mirkwood and Lórien and have something to report? I can tell him nothing other than the fact that the rings exist. I am sorry to be so ungracious, but truly, Mithrandir, I have been so long from my land that I do not wish to turn aside to Isengard unless the errand be pressing."
"I understand," replied Gandalf, "and you are right: knowing as little as we do, it would be premature to go to Saruman for counsel. I have often observed that one must first have knowledge in order to seek knowledge. It is perhaps a paradox, but the less one knows, the less one is capable of formulating the necessary questions in order to remedy one's ignorance. Those most in need of enlightenment are therefore the least likely to get it."
"Spoken like a true wizard," jested Elrond, "for whom paradoxes and riddles are no less needful than the air he breathes!"
The next morning the wizard parted from his friends, leaving with them the packhorses and the better part of the Rohirrim provisions.
"So, Elrond," said Glorfindel as they watched the wizard and his mount dwindle into the distance, "what was that you said about making him come to Rivendell and rest?"
"Ah," replied Elrond ruefully, "I suppose one cannot make a wizard do anything. The advantage is all his, after all, knowing as he does spells and enchantments."
"But you are a master of herb-lore. You could have slipped something into his drink."
"No, Glorfindel. Did you notice how carefully he guarded his flask?"
"Yes, it was well-nigh an obsession of his. He didn't use to be so wary. Do you suppose someone has lately tried to poison him?"
"No doubt." Elrond sighed. "The day will come when the waters in the rivers and the very air we breathe will be tainted by devices of our enemy. Small wonder that Mithrandir no longer trusts to drink freely even in the company of his friends."
"Do you suppose," said Glorfindel hopefully, "that Mithrandir's attitude may grow to encompass pipeweed? I should very much like to see him become wary of that!"
Elrond smiled and shook his head.
"I fail to see how that noxious weed could be rendered anymore poisonous than it is."
With that, the two Elves returned to their company, whose members were soon mounted and riding toward the west—toward home.