Gimli watched closely as Legolas and Sindadur entered the under ground palace. He began to follow them then found himself hesitating at the threshold. It was only the second time in his life that he could recall feeling uneasy about going into the bowels of a mountain, an action which would normally be as natural as breathing for any dwarf.
Yet here in the home of his friend, he could feel the same sense of unease tugging at his consciousness, the same wariness which he felt before entering the Dwimorberg.
He suspected that some of this discomfort stemmed from having to face Thranduil and yet as he removed a leather glove and placed a caloused hand on the stone door, he could actually feel the difference in the rock. It is said that elves have a strange affinity for trees, well dwarves know rock but this rock felt almost alien to him, as if the very mountain itself had been influenced over the ages by the countless elves to have lived and visited here.
It was a strange phenomenon and it took him by surprise, absently he wondered what other unusual experiences he would have here.
Quickly dwarvish pride got the better of him and he strode seemingly confidently through the open doors.
Once inside he was witness to a large entrance hall, which he looked over quickly with a critical, experienced eye. Yet he could find no fault in the workmanship displayed all around him, save the design itself, which while skilfully done , was not to a dwarf's taste.
A large vaulted ceiling loomed high over their heads. The countless tonnes of rock were supported by many tall stone pillars, cut from the mountain itself. Each pillar had been meticulously carved to resemble a living tree, springing from the pale green marble floor. Gimli imagined that if he were to reach out and touch a pillar that it would almost feel like living bark. As each pillar grew upwards to meet the ceiling, branches and leaves had been cleverly carved from the stone and they twisted and spread across the expance, intermingling in many places. The whole effect was completed with a pale blue wash across the stone sky.
All along the interior walls hung various richly worked tapestries depicting, what Gimli guessed as being, scenes from the realm's past. Between several tapestries hung long narrow mirrors, carefully positioned to catch the light from the doorway and the ventilation shafts tunnelled through the rock, high above them. The dwarf almost felt as though he were outside once more, such was the light and airiness of the structure.
Where there were no mirrors, there hung instead the same distinctive water-lily laterns, their glass bases filled with a strange red oil, though none were lit as yet.
Scattered about the floor along the walls were various shaped planters made of rich terracotta earthenware. Many varieties of plants grew within them, particularly ferns and jasmine. Each powerfully scented plant was supported by a delicate trelis of elvish design.
To the left the sound of trickling water, as a small drinking fountain, shaped like a giant leaf, was constantly overflowing with cool fresh mountain water. The hidden spring emptied into the polished stone fountain then spilled over and returned to the bowels of the mountain through a small drain.
To his right stood a long rectangular, wooden chest, as tall as himself. Upon it lay various weapons of both elvish and human design.
Almost as soon as they had entered, another elf appeared from one of four adjacent passageways leading off the entrance hall. His willowy frame was dressed in midnight-blue leggings and a matching tunic. He wore soft black leather boots and a long velvet robe of darknest navy, trimmed with fine sliver, hung from his narrow shoulders.
He was old for an elf, much of his long black braided hair was peppered with silver, especially at his temples, but his vivid blue eyes still sparkled brightly. Under his left arm he carried a thick leather bound book, its parchment, yellowing at the edges and Gimli noticed a fine delicate quill tucked behind his right ear.
"Luinsil !" the Prince exclaimed happily, rushing to greet the elf almost before he had time to enter the hall.
"Ernil Legolas ! Mae govannen Hîr-nîn !" the elder elf replied excitedly, trying to bow to his Prince before he was crushed in a warm embrace. (Prince Legolas ! Welcome my Lord !)
Legolas hugged the elf tightly and breathed in deeply, relieved to see yet another familiar face.
Where most elves smelled of the forest or the plants that grew there in, Luinsil was different, he had a unique personal scent which Legolas always found amusing for he smelled of ancient parchment and ink, even now the slender tips of his fingers were stained with the ink from his days labours.
Luinsil was one of his father's many advisors but his main function was to keep track of the King's appointments, it was his duty to make sure the King knew well in advance who he was due to meet, when and what the expected topics of discussion were likely to be, King Thranduil did not like surprises.
He could always be relied upon to know the King's exact location at any time of the given day or night, it was a skill the young Prince had taken advantage of many, many times during his youth, especially when he was determined to avoid a lecture from his father over his latest misdeed.
"Ai ! Luinsil I have missed you and the smell of your ink pots !" the Prince teased lightly, causing the elder elf to blush slightly.
The advisor was a little confused as to why his Prince was speaking to him in Westron. Once released from his tight hold , Luinsil looked behind Legolas' shoulder and noted the presence of Sindadur. The Captain's return had also been expected, the being which stood beside him however was not.
If it were at all possible for a elf's jaw to drop in surprise then Luinsil came quite close. He stared at the short, rotund being and then looked questioningly at Legolas.
"Prince Legolas" he began almost nervously, unable to detract his eyes from glancing over at the being once more, "we have been expecting you" he finished, adding just enough emphasis on the "we" to suggest he meant the King and just enough on the "you" so as to make the Prince aware that his strange companion had not been included in those egar expectations.
Luinsil was nothing if not diplomatic, a skill he had honed well over the ages, a skill which was essential when dealing with temperamental humans and an oft equally temperamental King during trade negotiations.
Legolas was equally adept at picking up subtle meanings and reading between the lines for he had spent ample time in his father's court. He tried to ease the advisors worries.
"Luinsil," he said and began to turn to face Sindadur and the dwarf, "there is someone I should like you to meet."
He directed the advisor over to his companions, standing patiently near the entrance.
"Luinsil, may I introduce Gimli, son of Glóin, one of the Fellowship of the Ring and a close personal friend" the Prince began lightly.
To which the elf nodded and replied as politely as he could given the circumstances, "A pleasure to meet you Master Dwarf."
Glóin, Glóin, Glóin…..I know that name, where did I hear……Oh Valar No ! his thoughts raced through his head as his mind was flooded with memories of the dwarves once held deep within the under ground palace many years ago….this could cause trouble.
He kept his features as schooled as he could and followed the rest of the formal introductions, while he tried not to think of what could happen very soon.
"Gimli, may I introduce Luinsil, son of Luinlómë, one of my father's most important advisors" the Prince finished.
Gimli nodded curtly, "An honour to meet you Master Elf."
Any further comment was cut off by the ever efficient Sindadur.
"Where is the King ?" he demanded brusquely of the advisor, " I will need to brief him about our latest patrol's findings."
"His Highness is in a meeting with some representatives from Lake-town, they are discussing a possible increase in the trade of…" Luinsil started to explain but was cut off once more by the Captain.
"When do you expect these meetings to end ?" he asked, not at all attempting to hide what he felt about such types of negotiations. If Sindadur had any faults, it was perhaps his lack of diplomacy, he was not one to spend much time in the King's court negotiating trade, he had proven to be far too blunt with his opinions and advice. Yet this curt directness was prized by Thranduil when matters turned to battle and the defence of their beloved realm.
"I imagine he will be engaged for at least another hour" Luinsil offered, trying to keep the contrary Captain placated.
"You imagine ?", Sindadur questioned, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, not at all pleased by the vagueness of the answer.
"Things have not being going smoothly, there is a question over the value of….", once again the advisor's explaination was halted.
"Then perhaps you can tell my Lord that his son has arrived" Sindadur strongly suggested.
Gimli watched on in growing amusement as the advisor became increasingly flustered, for once he was glad not to be at the receiving end of the warrior's sharp tongue. He began to see the Captain as a worthy advisary in his continuing battle of wills and words against all elves, well against one elf in particular.
Blasted elf, he thought, Could Legolas be right , he wondered, Do I actually have something in common with this rude creature ?
"Ofcourse I shall infrom his Highness of our Prince's arrival," he gave said Prince a warm smile then continued, "but first I must ask you to remove your weapons as is the custom of our Lord's house", the explaination was more for Gimli's benefit, for both Legolas and Sindadur were well aware of the palace rule. Only palace guards were permitted to be armed inside the palace itself.
Nodding compliance, both Captain and Prince began to divest themselves of their various weapons. It took a little longer for Sindaur to disarm himself completely for he carried about him considerably more weapons, including a few the dwarf had not previously spotted.
Gimli was reluctant to hand over his weapons to this strange elf, he did not like the idea of walking around an elvish kingdom without even an axe to protect himself, he felt vulnerable, almost naked without his weapons. But then he looked to Legolas who was removing his quiver and saw the plea for co-operation in his eyes and so with a self sacrificing sigh he began to strip away his cache of arms.
Legolas handed Luinsil his Lothlórien quiver and bow to be stowed on the oak chest to their right.
"These are not your usual arms my Prince and they are not of our make, where did you come by them ?" the advisor asked curiously.
"Aye, they are a gift from the Lady of the Golden Wood", Legolas explained.
"A bow of the Galadhrim", Luinsil spoke softly, more to himself than to anyone else, while he carefully examined the ornate carvings decorating the bow, "it is a wondrous gift my Lord, long may it serve you."
"Hannon le Luinsil."
Then he reverently placed the items on the oak chest. Sindadur also carefully laid out his own arms a top the chest while Gimli handed over his precious axes to Legolas, trusting him to lay them down gently into their waiting place.
"If you should like to wait here a moment, I shall inform the King of your arrival", the old advisor said to all.
"My thanks again Luinsil, we shall indeed wait here" Legolas replied anxiously, knowing that he was going to be reunited with his father very soon.
But suddenly there was no need for Luinsil to leave, as a pair of dark wooden doors swung open soundlessly to the left of them, the King of Eryn Lasgalen was already here.
oOo
Thranduil had indeed been engaged in tedious trade negotiations in one of his many meeting rooms deep within the palace. He was finding this particular meeting more difficult to concentrate on than most, simply because he was awaiting his beloved son's arrival at any moment.
Lagoram, his hawk had returned long ago and so he knew his son was close to the Kingdom's outer wall. By now he should be within the woodland realm and making his way to the palace.
Voices droned on around him, one of his advisors, Arienur was once again trying to come to some agreement with the Lake-town delegation about the costs to be paid for the latest consignment of crops and metals.
The King's attention wavered once more and his eyes focused on the edge of the large wooden table which he sat at the head of. It was an oak table, made from a tree which had once stood proudly with many others of its kind along the inside of the boundary wall, but it had been badly damaged by a fierce storm one winter, its great trunk fractured by lightning. But it soon found purpose once again in the hands of the elves, who crafted it into this functional yet beautiful work of art.
He began to rub its edge remembering a time when his son was very young and insisted on barging in on a meeting with his Advisors and warrior Captains. The young Prince had banged his head against the edge of the table in his haste to crawl up onto his father's lap, determined to be part of what was going on, whether he understood their agendas or not.
The little Prince had been very brave and refused to cry in front of his father's warriors, for he too wanted to be a warrior one day, so he sat resolutely on his father's lap for the remainder of the meeting while the lump on his head continued to grow.
The memory brought a faint smile to the King's lips and then all of a sudden it was there, that strange feeling inside, he sensed it clearly. He could not explain it but he knew not to question the bond he had formed over the years with his son, some how he knew deep within his heart that his child had finally returned home. He could sense his son's excitement and yet there was something else there also.
He could wait no longer.
Thranduil carefully pushed back his chair as he gracefully stood up to his full imposing height. All eyes around the table looked up at him, including the some what confused eyes of his fellow elves.
"Excuse me", was all he spoke as he left the table and opened the double doors leading into the room. He walked down the brightly lit corridor which would lead him to the entrance hall where he knew he would find his son.
OOo
The movement to the left caught everyones attention and an elf entered the hall. Almost instantly the other three elves bowed respectfully and Gimli surmised that he was looking upon the King.
So this is the legendary Thranduil, he thought, as he tried to get a good look at his father's former captor from behind the three other elves.
He was tall, as all elves are, yet he had a good few inches even over Sindadur. He was of athletic build yet power and strength emanated from him in waves. His long, pale blonde hair was plaited in a style similar to his son's and all was held neatly inplace by a fine mithril circlet, around which a small amount of dark green, silver trimmed ivy had been woven.
Piercing blue eyes focused on the Prince with unbridled intensity from beneath dark delicate eyebrows. Gimli could also see where his friend got his strong jaw-line from, infact father and son were so alike that the dwarf imagined he had been granted a rare gift of seeing what his immortal companion would look like in many years to come, long after he himself had left this life.
And yet there were subtle differences also.
The King's face was not as smooth and unlined as his son's, his brow was marked by many lines and deep furrows seemed permanently etched between his dark brows, furrows gained from countless years of worrying about his people's safety and from the pressures placed upon him to keep these lands free from shadow.
But it was perhaps the eyes that differed the most, while Gimli could make out that they were the same saphire blue, there the similarity ended. These were the eyes of an ancient being, a wise being, the eyes of one who had seen much of this world and yet so little of it had been good. They were eyes that did not offer trust easily nor perhaps forgiveness. They bore the weight of crushing responsibility, had seen countless battles, witnessed much death and had been through crippling sorrow, though Gimli suspected that very few tears had ever passed their way. They were eyes that had been hardened through necessity.
The dwarf wondered if his friend had the power to soften those eyes.
The King was dressed in a deep emerald green full-length tunic which skimmed lightly over the tops of his soft dark brown leather boots. About his waist hung a narrow brown leather belt, studded sparingly with the emeralds of Girion, a gift from Bard of Esgaroth, as an offer of thanks for the King's assistance in a time of need many years ago. Over his strong shoulders hung a dark burgundy robe made from soft flowing velvet, its edges and cuffs were trimmed in a fine delicate design of gold leaves. In short he looked every bit the ruler his people proclaimed him to be.
When Thranduil entered the hall his scanning eyes sought out only his son and they focused solely on him. As they locked gazes, the King found himself closing his eyes for a moment and offered a prayer of silent thanks to the Valar, tentatively he opened them again, but it had not been a cruel vision, his beloved son was still standing before him and he smiled.
Opening his arms wide, he wordlessly invited his son to come to him. Legolas needed no further prompting and rushed into his father's warm embrace. Once there, they held onto each other for dear life, each one savouring this precious moment. Thranduil allowed one hand to reach up and grasp his son's golden head from behind, pulling his child closer to him, allowing him to inhale the familiar woodland scent of the young Prince.
Valar, he had missed that unique fragrance, he tought to himself, he had missed it so much.
"Ai, nae saian luume ion-nín, coramin lindua ele lle. Sut lle anta tyava ?", he whispered lovingly into his son's ear.
(Ai, it has been too long my son, my heart sings to see thee. How do you feel ?)
"Avo'osto Adar, Ím sínome sí. Amin tyava quel" Legolas replied assuredly.
(Do not worry father, I am here now. I feel well.)
"Ada, there is someone who means a great deal to me that I should like you to meet" Legolas said hesitantly to his father as they finally released their holds on one another.
"Ofcourse my child, where is this friend of yours ?" the King asked with a slight hint of curiosity as wondered why he was detecting a hint of nervousness in his son's voice.
"Gimli", Legolas beconed his friend to make himself more visible and the dwarf obligingly stepped out from behind Sindadur and Luinsil.
Gimli struggled to make sure his expression would remain as neutral as possible before his friend's father, he would not be the one to provoke any argument, he valued the elf's friendship far too much for such pettiness in this delicate situation.
And so he stood before the great King of Eryn Lasgalen and gave his most curteous nod of respect as his friend introduced him.
"My lord may I present to you Gimli, son of Glóin, one of the nine walkers, a great warrior who has sacrificed much in defending Arda against the foul hoardes of Sauron and who has fought bravely by my side on many occasion…….. Gimli may I present to you King Thranduil Oropherion, Lord of Eryn Lasgalen and my beloved father."
Silence.
Sindadur and Luinsil waited anxiously for their King's response. Sindadur, posed to protect his King should the dwarf try anything, while Luinsil really wished he were some where else.
It seemed like an eternity to Legolas before his father tore his gaze away from the dwarf and when his father's eyes finally locked with his own once more, the young Prince almost wished his father were still looking at Gimli.
Raw powerful emotions swirled in their depths, it was as if a battle were raging within those saphire orbs and Legolas found it difficult to judge just exactly what his father was feeling.
He saw glimpses of anger, traces of disappointment and disbelief but more disturbing still he saw rekindled grief and something he had thought he would never see in his own father's eyes, he saw betrayal.
Legolas' heart broke, he did not want to hurt his father, that was the last thing he had ever wanted to do and he realised now his own foolishness. His father had not changed as he had, his feelings about the children of Aulë remained the same, he had not relinquished an age old grief nor had he forgiven those who had caused it.
Suddenly the King spoke to his son, his voice low and level, yet the young elf could clearly detect the struggle for control."
"Mankoi Legolas ?" was all he demanded of his son, as he tried to fathom why his own child would do this to him, here and now of all times. (Why Legolas ?)
"Adar ," the Prince pleaded, "he is my friend."
"He is one of them Legolas…….have you forgotten what his kind has done ?" he demanded as a touch of frost crept into the calm voice.
Now it was the Prince's turn to feel pain, did his father actually think he was capable of forgetting such a thing ?
"No Adar I have not forgotten, but Gimli is not responsible, he was…." but the Prince's pleading explaination was cut off.
"They are all responsible Legolas" and with that the King turned and opened the doors to leave, as he started to walk down the corridor he called out softly to his Captain, "I shall speak with you later Sindadur" and with that he disappeared silently down the hallway.
Legolas called after him.
"Adar Amin Hiraetha, Adar ! Ada…….." but his desparate pleas were in vain. He had caused his father pain and for the life of him he did not know what to do.
(Father I am sorry, Father ! Dad…….
Author's note ; Weeeeell ? hope it was worth the wait. I know this was only a brief reunion, the father and son really get to hammer out their differences in private in about 2-3 chapters time - so stay with me people !
Chapter 13 will be ready Wednesday evening (Irish time) and Chapter 14 will be up on Saturday next - hopefully, as they are nearly finished. For once I'm actually ahead of myself ! Any way folks THANKS again for your wonderful reviews.
Sylvie ; Hooked ! Wow ! what a compliment ! I shall light a candle for that poor computer of yours, I wouldn't want to loose you now ! This chapter is for you, hope you enjoy it ! (fingers crossed)
Alatariel Narmolanya ; glad you liked the description of Eryn Lasgalen. Wouldn't it be great if P.J. did make "The Hobbit" and we all got to see what his vision of the place was like - cool !. Hope the suspence was worth it !
Kestrel of valinor ; Glad you're back on board ! all misunderstandings cleared up - Whew ! Thanks for the poetry reviews ! Hang in there.
daw the minstrel ; Hope I did Eryn Lasgalen justice for you ! Horses inside - yeah - wierd ! I think I'll be keeping Arod in an elvish stable outside the palace, less smelly that way ! Hee Hee!
messenger of the ElvenKing ; Bon jour mon ami ! Sorry my french isn't great ! Welcome to the story and I'm thrilled you like it. I take it from your profile that you're a big Thranduil fan, well stick with it, there's lots more of him to come - I love him too !