A/N
This is getting too long as a chapter and I've re-worked it so many times I've despaired of improving it further. I'm having connectivity problems so I hope it comes across without being scrambled.
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In the Halls of the Elvenking - renewing old acquaintance
The day was well advanced towards sun set when they repaired to the rooms allotted to them, apartments that carried the same sense of Menegroth and of the forest that Elrond had noticed when they first arrived.
He watched the door close behind his guide and stood unmoving for a moment taking in the simple elegance and beauty of the room, wondering once more at the creation of this at a time of such sorrow and darkness for those who made it. He sighed gently at the thought, it had been a time when his own lands were protected and at peace, as they remained, something he must not let slip his mind in the days to come; something he could yet be called upon to explain. Thranduil might challenge him as to why Imladris remained serene and untouched even as his forest had darkened, and rightly so, yet he wasn't sure how he could answer.
His eyes fastened on the hanging on the far wall. A sconce of green candles newly lit had been set below it and they shone on a scene that must have been of Greenwood before the shadow fell across it. Done in needlework so fine that it might be paint it showed the sun lighting a woodland glade in spring, the trees tall and straight and the grass scattered with pale flowers. He smiled at the beauty of it and wondered how that glade had fared since this hanging was stitched, and if those trees still stood proud and green. They had seen only a little of the damage the centuries of the growing evil had wrought on the forest but it had been sufficient to bring home, to him at least, the extent of the danger and loss that Thranduil's people had lived with for so long.
He sighed again, no wonder they were suspicious of strangers.
Shrugging off his outer robe he pulled the circlet from his brow and dropped it onto the embroidered couch before sinking down beside it and rubbing his hands over his eyes. He had known from the first that this would not be an easy matter but now he was here, within Thranduil's stronghold, in the company of the king for the first time in centuries, the difficulty seemed to grow in his mind with every hour that passed. Yet he remained convinced that there was no choice, that it was the only way unless he was willing to risk the matter to chance. Glorindel's words echoed through his head,
'It may all fall out well if we do nothing, for his nature is generous and dutiful and we can do much to guide him, as will his mother, though I understand your concern. But if we must do more then we have few choices, even if secrecy was not required, for who is there amongst his own that could be relied upon, even if they could do it?'
Elrond rubbed his eyes again. The warrior of Gondolin had seen much in his two life times and it might yet be that Glorfindel had been wise in his reading of the matter, for there were many things that could change the course of events. But Elrond knew in his heart that he could not bear to leave the matter to fate, not when so much might be at stake, when so many peoples happiness, many of them as yet unborn, might hang in the balance. He could not forget that he had trusted to the nature and honour a son of the second born once before, risked leaving matters to chance once before, and it had brought them all to likely grief; how could he do that once more?
Nor had not shared all that he feared with Glorfindel, yet he could not have said why for it was no lack of trust that kept him silent. Perhaps it was because it remained too shadowy, too uncertain, and there were many times when he was sure that he was mistaken, for how could it be so? Or perhaps he had not said more because his fears were too close to his heart for him to speak of them, even to Glorfindel, for should it come to be then it would bring a loss beyond counting. Whilst it remained but a shadow of what could be it was better not spoken of. Yet from the moment he had set eyes upon Thranduil again, met that far seeing gaze again, the feeling that silence might lose him the very thing he sought had grown upon him.
He sighed to himself, perhaps it would be for the best to disclose all, for he could not speak to Thranduil king to king, he would not have made this journey if he could, but he could speak to him as father to father. If Mithrandir was correct then Thranduil had faced turmoil and anguish with regards to his own child's future very recently, surely he would understand the fears that haunted this father's sleep?
Elrond rose and crossed the room, the deep woven rug deadening the sound of his steps, and touched the tapestry with a hesitant finger. But it was not fragile, it was strong and hale, as if it had been stitched but a day or two ago, though some instinct told him it was far older than that. Yet there was vibrancy to it that denied its age, a strength that made it more than just the representation of a past now gone. He had noticed this sense of energy as soon as they had entered these halls, and the way the past and the present had been meshed together in some indefinable way. It suddenly occurred to him that there was less preoccupation with past glories and tragedies here than amongst his own kin. It would be interesting to hear what songs the minstrels sang here.
Did that also explain the king?
As with the forest the passage of the age had left its mark upon his host, and to greater degree than he had anticipated. Yet the nature of the change was not expected, for there was no sense of weariness about him, nothing to suggest that his spirit was weighed down by the darkness he fought. Elrond touched the tapestry again, like this work it seemed that he endured almost untouched, but unlike this work he was not unchanged. This king was not the prince he had once known, the prince who had stood silently beside his father in the Councils of the Last Alliance, who, on occasion, had received him, Gil-galads herald, in his father's stead. Nor was he the prince king who had struggled to fill that father's place within an army mourning its dead, weary and battle scarred before the gates of Mordor, even as he grieved. He wasn't even the stiff yet uncertain king who had come to the White Council in its early meetings, still grieving and angry, sure that the war was not yet won.
The physical form was unchanged of course, he was ever fair even for an elf lord and with that golden head rather than the father's Sindar silver, something that had always intrigued Elrond suggesting as it did Vanya blood. The aura of physical power that he had always possessed was also unchanged, as was the sense that he saw things others missed, but else much was. This one had a poise, a calm and presence, a….. he hesitated on the word, a certainty, which the earlier versions had lacked. The feel of his spirit had changed too, all that had been there before remained but within it there was now also a sense, a feeling, of power that was not physical. What it was had not yet become clear, whether it was part of the force that held his gates Elrond could not judge as yet, but it was a palpable aura about him. Perhaps it was something drawn from the forest, some arcane learning culled from his people and their past. Elrond gave a small smile; his companions might be in for more surprises before they departed than they had come prepared for.
He had to admit that it had been something of a surprise to realise the extent of the change he had felt in the Sindar prince become king, the depths, the strengths, that he had developed; to realise that the changes that were more than mere majesty and a restrained dignity that gone beyond habit to become a part of him. The sense of authority, and of power restrained, that hung about him was not the sum of it either for under it Elrond sensed a patient wisdom he did not recall being aware of in their past encounters. He sighed, had it always been there and he had not seen it or was it the result of two millennia and more of wearing a crown? Of two millennia of leading a Realm under threat from an evil that only he had truly believed in?
Whatever it was there was no doubt that their hosts displeasure was not to be courted lightly even by the Lord of Imladris, for he was very much a king and maybe one more powerful than the Council of the Wise had allowed for.
Elrond frowned as he thought back over their meeting, trying to pull the scattered impressions into a coherent whole and set them against what he knew of the kings past. Yet it seemed that he could not, Thranduil the son of Oropher, seemed more of an enigma than ever his father had been. He stroked the tapestry with a gentle touch, it was odd how little of them was recorded in his books of Lore. What did he know of them after all, other than that they were born of the line of Olwe on the distaff side, descendant of those who remained behind on the shores of Arda to seek the lost Thingol at his request? They were elves who understood loyalty and tenacity and who had suffered greatly for it. Not surprising then that they proved to be good kings.
But it now seemed that Thranduil had passed beyond that. Elrond had heard him described as a great king, indeed as the greatest king, and had smiled at the claim, for surely that title could only belong to the high kings of old But he would smile at it no more for now he did not doubt he was a great one, and as for greatest… well… it just might be true. For none of the high kings of old had built so much with so little, nor held it for so long against such evil. He stood for a moment lost in thought, rubbing thoughtfully at the finger where the ring gifted to him by Gil-galad normally sat in recollection of the past. Once upon a time Thranduil would have been the lesser party at their meetings, even after he became king, but Elrond had not been in his company long before he had realised that time was past. This king would have stood beside Gil-galad as an equal.
He frowned, not that it was of any importance and perhaps he should take comfort from it for surely it confirmed the rightness of his choice? But it didn't make the approach less fraught with difficulties or opportunity for misunderstanding. Indeed there were more opportunities for conflict than he had expected for it was clear that many of Thranduil's Lords were less than pleased to see them in these Halls, whilst his own party were wary and uncertain in face of something that was not as they had thought.
He frowned at the memory of their arrival, he had not expected any fervour in their welcome but nor had he anticipated this degree of wary distance; it was as if these Lords were expecting an insult from their guests and were guarding themselves against responding to the affront. He sighed, a sense of sadness creeping over him at the realisation that his hosts felt the need to steel themselves against slights, shamed that he could not pretend they were without reason in fearing it. He pushed the thought away with a silent promise that that fear would be banished by the time they departed.
He looked around the room again noting that his baggage had been unpacked and that his books had set upon a table beside the wall. The small chest containing those personal documents he had brought on the journey sat beside it, and it occurred to him that he should send word of their safe arrival to Glorfindel. His sons were no doubt in the north of the mountains and about their self imposed task of Orc hunting but they would wish news of his travel should they return home before he did.
He picked up the candles and crossed to the table, opening the chest he pulled out his travel desk and extracted a sheet of parchment, and pen and ink. There was more than an hour before he needed to ready himself for the evening meal, a quiet gathering given their weeks of travel the king had promised, time enough to set down his first impressions of their arrival for Glorfindel's information.
He smoothed the parchment and uncorked the ink pot, as he sharpened his pen he let his mind drift back over the last few hours.
xxx
They had arrived at the reception rooms on the king's heels and found food laid out on scattered table and comfortable seats set around a number of glowing braziers. Here the king's council waited, their expressions distant and inscrutable, along with a number Elrond guessed were senior members of the king's guard. Seeing the shuttered expressions of those waiting to greet them sent another wave of unease through him for it was clear that this visit was not overly welcomed by their hosts. He doubted that this feeling was simply a reflection of their wariness of outsiders for there was something about the way their looks assessed the visiting party that suggested it was some characteristics of the guests that concerned them.
It came to him suddenly that they were expecting nothing pleasant from this encounter and were resigned to enduring rather than enjoying the necessary intercourse with their guests. A surge of regret washed through him, it seemed it was not only the king who knew of the mockery and gossip about this Realm so readily banded abroad by some; Elrond took a silent vow that he would never allow such talk in his house again. He looked around at his companions as they followed him into the room and the look was a warning, a silent promise that he would deal harshly with any who made unwise or unflattering comments to their hosts or their king.
But the shock, the awe, that had overtaken them as they had followed the king into his Halls had not faded as yet and their words of greeting and introduction were graceful and respectful, for the moment at least. Nor had it escaped his attention that, thus far, they had all kept at a distance from the king himself, though Elrond was not sure why. Given the glint of amusement in Thranduil's eyes it seemed that he had noticed it too, though he gave no sign of his observation other than that look.
The weight of conversation with the king therefore fell to him, though as the most senior of his party he had expected nothing else. To his surprise Estel had come to stand beside them, though much of his time his eyes wandered the room drifting from the tapestries to the paintings to the chasing on the many wooden pillars and panels, then beginning the circuit again. The carved statute of a deer family, a white stag, hind and fawn clustered together as a group beneath a beech tree, seemed to draw his eyes repeatedly, and Elrond hid a smile at his open admiration. Satisfied that the youth would mind his sometime unruly tongue or the moment he turned his attention back to the discussion of the state of the road across the mountains he had been conducting with the king.
But such innocuous topics were quickly exhausted and after them it was inevitable that more sensitive matters were broached. Thranduil began mildly enough, his words following the line of the conversation so far.
"Mithrandir told me that you had been at the fortress when the Lady engaged with Sauron, what route east did you take across the mountains then?"
The king's voice, low and musical, carried only mild curiosity but there was something about the accompanying look that set Elrond on his guard, He recalled how quick minded and astute Thranduil had been even before he took the crown. He smiled slightly,
"Much further to the south, for I escorted the Lady there."
"Ah, that explains it." The king responded with a faint smile. "I had wondered why you did not travel with the wizard and the dwarfs." He took a sip from his cup before he continued his tone no less bland and gentle than before. "Or why you did not think to warn me of their intentions when they left you."
Elrond suppressed a grimace at the calm words, knowing that oversight was something else that Thranduil might justifiably hold against him given what trouble the dwarfs had brought to his people. He inclined his head in graceful apology.
"Indeed, after I heard of their trespass in your Realm, and what followed on it, I knew that I had erred in not doing so. But when they left Imladris I had assumed that Mithrandir would continue to travel with them and stand guarantor for their good behaviour. When I received the summons from Gladriael I realised that he must have parted from Thorin's party, but I thought that they would halt their travels and wait for him. I could not imagine that they would continue to your Realm alone. That they would press on towards the mountain or be willing to face the dragon without him, the few they were, seemed unlikely."
He took a sip of his own tea but when Thranduil said nothing, clearly waiting for him to continue, he swallowed a sigh and did so.
"Nor did I have any reason to think the dwarf would behave as he did. They were noisy and often ill mannered when in my house, not elven manners but nothing truly objectionable. The younger two, the ones who fell with him, were good natured enough as I recall them, though the youngest was foolish even for a dwarf of such few years." He smiled in recollection. "Their behaviour seemed closer to that of human youth than of scions of the line of Durin."
He thought back to the days the dwarf and their Hobbit companion had spent within his house and frowned.
"The older ones were far less open in their manner and could be considered very rude by elven standards but they did not seem likely to cause harm. It is true that Thorin was both arrogant and surly, though guarded in what he said, and It was clear he disliked being amongst elves but no more than that. Though I did not approve of his intention to risk waking the dragon I had no reason to think that he would behave in such a manner as Mithrandir later reported. Be assured that I had no sense of the death and destruction he would bring when I was with him, nor afterwards either. Had I had any intimation of what was to come I would have tried to stop them and sent message to you if I failed in that."
He frowned as something else came back to him.
"Thorin had an elven sword, and one forged in Gondolin no less, Orcrist it was. They had taken from a troll hoard they encountered before they arrived at the valley. He spoke of it fairly enough and hoped it would be put to its previous use again, but I had no sense of how it would eventually be employed or the battle that was to come. No more did Thorin, or so it seemed, and there was no sign of madness in him at that time that I saw."
He met Thranduil's eyes again, sighed and gave a small, depreciating smile and a shrug before going on.
"But I confess that any thought I gave Thorin's company one they departed was fleeting, for though I did not expect to meet what we did at Dol Guldor the idea of travelling to that dark fortress occupied all my thoughts, anthe time between the Lady's summons and my leaving Imladris was short. Perhaps I erred in that too, for I had no doubt of Oakenshield's burning desire for gold and deplored it, I too know what a dwarf may do in pursuit o
that desire. I wished him and his company well but in truth I doubted they would follow the path they spoke of to its end and there is nothing I recall of that time that foreshadowed what was to follow."
Thranduil seemed to consider that for a moment then he inclined his head in acceptance of the comment.
"It is possible that his madness did not manifest itself whilst in your house, that it afflicted him only when he came to lands he had known in earlier days. Perhaps the company of the estimable Bilbo Baggins kept it in check until they came closer to their goal."
He looked down into his cup and a strange sadness flickered across his face for a moment.
"But mad he was when he came here, and as so often in the past his madness cost others dearly."
He was silent for a moment, still staring down into his cup as if the events of that time were written there, and then he sighed and a weary resignation crept into his face and voice.
"Yet the Orc army was already gathered in numbers beyond our expectations, they must have emptied Gundebadand all the other goblin cities of the far north to amass such a horde. The mountain was fated to be a beacon for them and for landless men once Smaug was gone, and I knew it would be; they would ever have been waiting for a chance to take it for the men of the lake could not secure it. If Orc or landless men from the east were to be established there then all peace would be gone for my lands and for the men of the lake, and it would not be long before they sought to attack us. With that threat in the north and the shadow of Gol Guldor to the south I would have been hard pressed to protect my people. This I knew as soon as I heard of the slaying of the dragon and knew that I could not let it come to pass. Perhaps Thorin Oakenshield did nothing more than advance what was always fated to be."
Elrond had looked at him with understanding.
"It seems likely that was so, but that cannot make the pain of your loss any less."
Thranduil gave a half smile.
"No, it does not, for there was always the hope that there would have been time to take better stock of matters, or that their attempt to take it might not have come. A hope that if it had we would have known and been well prepared."
"Were you unprepared? From what Bilbo Baggins told us your army was large and well equipped and Dain's dwarfs well schooled and much experienced in fighting Orc."
Thranduil nodded slowly and his voice was low and heavy with regret.
"It was not small for I had gone prepared to take and hold the mountain. Not to do so would have been foolish. But I had not marched expecting to do battle then, certainly not one of the size and ferocity we were forced into. . I had heard nothing of the gathering of the Orc host and had mistakenly believed there was time enough tsecure the mountain and the lands about it."
He sighed and gave Elrond a wry smile.
"I would not have started a war for gold and had Dain come with his army alone I would by choice have waited and sought a way forward that served all, but I had not that choice. Dain was surly and foolish and sought to push some manner of fight upon me regardless of the right of the matter. But he was outnumbered and could not hope to take the day, he would have sought peace between us soon enough, there would have been losses but hopefully small in number. The coming of the greater enemy changed that for we were all taken by surprise."
Elrond looked him in curiosity.
"You believed Oakenshield to be dead?"
Thranduil inclined his head
"I did, once I heard of the dragon taking wing and its destruction of Laketown I knew they had both woken and angered Smaug, having met Oakenshield and his little company, arrogant and foolish as they were, it seemed impossible that they would have survived that error. At this time I knew nothing of Mithrandir's involvement in the matter, nor of Mr Baggins, and so had no thought of them having help of any kind. But it seems that having set them on this course he had left them to their own devices, and so in that I mainly was correct, valiant though the halfling was. I wonder if that was always his plan or if something occurred to cause him to change his path and turn aside to go to Dol Guldar."
"I cannot answer that, for it was the Lady who summoned me and I never learned why he decided we must act immediately. Nor do I think Gladrieal knew, for had we done so we have sent word of our intention to you."
He paused for a moment debating with himself the wisdom of continuing this line of conversation but there were things he wished to know and so he decided on a little gentle probing.
"As you know Legolas came to Imladris after the battle, he seemed not himself, as if he laboured under some great grief, and it seemed to me that it was linked to the battle. When he greeted us in the forest he seemed much restored I hope that is the case?"
The king gave him a long hard look before he replied in a voice that was suddenly distant and sombre.
"Legolas has fought the evil since he was old enough to do so, but he had never seen a full battle on an open plain with armies of such size before. He acquitted himself well, very well, but the sight of such violence, so much death so quickly and in one place, was unknown to him until that day."
He sighed.
"But how many still within the world have? Many generations of men have passed since the last alliance and though my information is that Gondor and Rohan have seen battles in recent years they have been smaller and poor preparation for what Sauron will unleash if he regains power. As for the firstborn, many of the Nolder who survived have sailed, and many of the Teleri too. What number of those within your valley, safe and cosseted for an age, have ever drawn an arrow for something other than the hunt or swung a sword because their life depended upon it?"
Elrond was shaken by the words wondering how they were meant to be taken. Thranduil had always been of balanced opinion, never granting blame or fault unless he was sure it was earned, what then was the purpose of such a remark? He searched the king's face for anger or bitterness but found only sad reflection there, so the remark was not meant as a barb. Even so it betrayed a sense of loneliness, of battles fought alone and unmarked that boded ill for his request. Elrond drew a deep breath; he needed to think deeply on how he could change this view given what had passed between them before. He smiled slightly.
"I can assure you that Glorfindel has such matters well in hand, he like you is well aware that the world may darken quickly, nor does he ever forget that the hand on the harp today may need to wield a bow against an army of orc before this evil matter is ended."
Thranduil inclined his head in response and he smiled, but the shadow that had entered his eyes did not depart.
"It gives me some comfort that he would have them prepared." He said softly.
Then he turned the conversation back to the present and the difficulties of trade and in bringing enough wine up the swollen river for the last spring feast.
