In the Halls of the Elvenking – disclosure

Elrond entered the breakfast room of the guest quarters to find many of his party already assembled and the table set with dishes of eggs, bread, cheese, butter and honey and one of a dark preserve that Mithrandir had spoken of with much praise. As the feast of the previous evening had demonstrated the cooks of the Woodland Realm were certainly very skilled and the range of foods available here was greter than in his own house. No doubt a part of the trade arrangements that kept this realm and its king more open and connected to the wider world than any other elven realm remaining.

He exchanged greetings with those present, collected a plate of bread and cheese and then settled himself down in a chair beside the hearth to break his fast. None of those assembled seemed anxious for his attention, indeed the quiet demeanour of some of his companions suggested that they had enjoyed the feasting a little more than was usual and did not care to draw attention to it. He hid a smile and opened the book he had brought with him, propping it against a full flagon of warmed milk he turned his attention to the page. Around him his companions resumed their quiet conversations, some no doubt still trying to absorb the events and revelations of the previous evening. The ebb and flow of chatter around him did not intrude and many were already rising and seeking their way out of the Halls of the king and back into the woods beyond the mountain where most had chosen to lodge.

Yet his mind was not on the words before him and they had no current power to engage him, though they served a useful screen from the enquiries of others had any had that intention. Instead his mind wandered back to the previous morning.

Thranduil and he had strolled from the butts together through avenues of trees that seemed to bend a little as the king passed as if to better see him. There was no wind or other reason for them to sway in such a manner and Elrond was taken with the sudden impression that they were assuring themselves of the king's health and ease of mind. As they walked the king trailed his hand against leaf and trunk and it was as if the forest sighed its' satisfaction as he passed, and at his touch. Though they talked of this and that, and Thranduil seemed no less incisive and vigorous in mind than he had been when they had debated the fate of the world on the few occasions he had attended the White Council, Elrond could not shake the feeling that some part of that mind was always elsewhere, speaking in another voice to other listeners. As the sunlight slanted through the boughs above and glimmered on the soft gold of his hair, setting the shades of mithril and silvers within that gold glittering, Elrond began to see why some others found him fey and strange.

Elrond had known the elf beside him in some of the darkest days of the world, when they camped on the bitter slopes before the black gates, in sight of the plains where his father had fallen. Days when sword and shield were their constant companions and when death was often just a slow sword stroke away. Then they had spent days breathing ash, their skins slicked with the blood of the enemy and sometimes friends too, their bodies aching from the effort of simply staying alive; a time when only brute strength and long practised skill at killing before they were killed had kept the hope of a light after the darkness burning, and them from Mandos Halls. Few others still in Arda could know better the physical power of the King of Greenwood, nor his grasp of reality and the demands of a world where evil seemed so often to be favoured above virtue. Yet at that moment truly the king of the wood had seemed strange, as if the long centuries of his kingship had moved him beyond the elf he had been then to a place where he was no longer just his people's king.

'Like Glorfindel', the thought brought a sudden shock, 'as if some part of him belongs somewhere else, to something else.'

As he looked at tall, lithe, figure striding beside him Elrond wondered what that meant for his future. Could he ever sail? Would that something else that spoke to him ever release him and permit it, and if not then what would be his fate, his choices, when the age of men came? Was that why he had not retreated from the world as others had done, the knowledge that he would be a part of it long after most of his kin had departed?

Certainly Thranduil had seemed better informed on the doings of men and dwarf than any he knew, other than Mithrandir, and the pile of letters and missives that littered the desk in his quarters bore testimony to the effort he put into making sure that was so. Elrond doubted that the wizard was the Greenwood's only informant, as was often the case with Imladris these days; unlike Thranduil he had no web of informants and spies, and Elrond had no doubt that the Greenwood king had such a web. For Imladris contacts with other Realms were few and had been since before his wife had sailed, and had shrunk further still with the coming of Estel and the need to protect him. It did not help that the Rangers of the north, his only other regular contact amongst men now, were no less reclusive than the elves that resided in the hidden valley. Their numbers also dwindled as did their power and the scattered tribes of the sea kings descendants played little part in the wider world away from their northern fastness. It seemed that the descendants of his brother's mortal line were as destined to pass into legend as his own immortal kin.

Thranduil might well know much more of the doings of mortal realms, and of things that much concerned him, for he was sure he had caught a glimpse of the crest of the white tree on a thick packet of paper before the king had swept that part of the contents of his desk aside to make way for a tea tray. If that was indeed his reason, what had been the king's true intent in removing the papers from view Elrond could not be sure, for Thranduil's face, as was so often the case, gave no indication of his thought. Yet hidden they were, and the possibility of asking the questions he so longed to ask was all but banished by that hiding. Even so only the fear of being seen to be too demanding of the king's hospitality, and the knowledge that it was not yet the time for such enquiry, had prevented Elrond from questioning him in detail of his knowledge of the current state of Gondor and the conduct of the Stewards who had long ruled in the king's stead.

The king had poured tea for them both before settling himself in a chair behind the desk, his face unreadable even in the bright light of the lamps. He passed Elrond a cup then reached for a slice the warm bread that sat beside the pot, clearly he had not yet broken his fast, and Elrond found himself wondering how long he had been at the butts when he had come upon them. More than ever he found the kings' preparation for the dark time they both knew was coming a little unnerving, and not for the first time since he had left home he wished it had been possible for Glorfindel to accompany him.

"What, then, would you ask of me Lord of Imladris?"

The voice was calm, gentle even, and yet there was a hint of something that caused Elrond a moments pause, and he drew a deep breath considering how best to reply. He had never doubted that Thranduil would suspect his reasons for coming here and had thought of many ways to lead them to this very question. Yet the king had gone straight to the heart of the matter without hesitation and it cut all his careful preparation from him.~'I should have known that he would,' he found himself thinking bitterly,' he is after all much more practiced at such matters than I.'
He made no protest at the king's choice of words, what was there to protest after all, but followed his line to the heart of the matter.
"Estel. It is of Estel I would speak."

Thranduil had showed no surprise and it had been clear that he had expected that some boon was to be asked of him. That should have made it easier but it had not and the words, practiced so often in the quiet nights of the journey here, had failed him and his plea had been hard to form. Under the king's unchanging gaze all the failures and slights of the past rose up to mock him and he had stumbled on the words of apology he had come prepared to offer.
"Do not think me unaware of the debt owed to you and to your people by others; it is no less because we did not understand the foes you faced."

Memory halted at that point as he realised that Estel himself was standing beside him, a hopeful look upon his face. Elrond smiled.
"Forgive me, did you ask something of me? I confess my mind was elsewhere."
The youthful eyes lit with mirth.
"But not within the book I think. For I doubt it would cause such a haunted look."
Elrond gave a small laugh.~"Haunted you say. Well perhaps, the past sits heavily on me at this time I will confess."
Estel looked at him with knowing sympathy, the mirth dying from his eyes to be replaced by a serious look that belied his scarcity of years.
"Mordor?" He asked quietly, "there must be many here who you have not come upon since that place. I had not thought of that before this moment but both you and the king must find many painful memories rising up in the others company. How much of a burden it must be for you both."
Elrond smiled and reached out to grasp the youths arm.
"Perhaps, but do not let that burden you. The king and I have long memories and as much of what we recall is joy as is pain. It is part of our heritage, of what we are, and we both understand that."

Sorrow shot through with curiosity settled on Estel's face.
"How do you bear it?" he asked softly.
Elrond laughed again.
"Because we must, and it is a part of what we are. Each comes to terms with it in their own way but for most elves the music soothes our worst memories, quieting their clamour and providing joy even in the darkest of times."
"Even when you have lost so much?"
"Even then, at least until the sea calls to us. When there is no bearing it then we are called home so that we may rest and regain our strength and wonder in the world."

Estel thought about that for a moment then shook his head as he sank into the chair at Elrond's side.
"Yet King Thranduil's losses must still be new and raw, for did he not lose many elves in the battle before the mountain? I do not think he would have forgotten those in so short a time."
Elrond sighed, the sound like the first winds of winter blowing down the mountain passes. For a moment he remembered how easily he had sent Thorin on his way towards Thranduils' Realm even though he had grave doubts about the covetous nature of the dwarf who would be a king. One of things in his life he would undo if he could.
"No, that is true." he said softly. "He will still mourn and I doubt his sleep is untroubled. Yet it is not only that day that will plague him, for until the cleansing if Dol Guldar he was a king at war, each day a harbinger of battle, each sunrise bringing the possibility of loss before the stars again reclaimed the sky."
His voice dropped as if he was aware of those around him staring but in truth he was not, only of the sharp realisation of the truth of this kingdom's pain and peril.
"More so than perhaps I realised, or allowed myself to dwell upon. It pains me that his kin have been of so little help, that the elves of Greenwood have been left to battle so much darkness alone."
Estel gave him a long serious look.
"Then why was it so? Did he not ask?"

Elrond shook his head slowly.
"In truth I am no longer sure. Once he asked, told us that the Necromancer, for such we called the shadow in the fortress, was Sauron returned. But we did listen. We did not believe that the dark fortress was housing Sauron, some other lesser evil we thought, a Nazguil even wallowing in its little power." He sighed, the sound again bitter and cold as a winter wind. "Though why we clung to such a belief I do not know when the spreading darkness should have put us on our guard."
"What does the king think?"
"I cannot say. At best I can hope that he understands that our desire for peace, our belief in the dark lord's fall, made us blind."
"And at worst? What then?"
Elrond gave a sad and bitter smile.
"Then he believes that we considered ourselves safe behind our walls, satisfied in our peace and tranquillity and cared not for the suffering, the losses, of him and his people. That we thought he lied or exaggerated their danger. Worst of all that be believed him but that we saw them as lesser than ourselves and so an acceptable sacrifice for our isolated contentment."

Estel spoke softly
"Which is the truth?"
Elrond closed his eyes for a moment, the grief clear in his face.
"I wish I could be sure Estel, but I am not. This has troubled me much on the journey here, for the further we travelled from Imladris the less sure I became of why we had not travelled that road in an age."
"Less wise." Estel was clearly quoting someone.
His foster father's grey eyes met his with a stormy look the youth had rarely seen there and his voice was sharp.
"I have never said so, nor thought it. As for those who may have done so, well they need to reflect carefully on what truth that vaunted wisdom carried. Why it was that we, I, were so blind, that we so sure in our rightness that we had no doubt even though we had not visited, not come to see the spreading shadow for ourselves."

Estel smiled faintly.
"What conclusion did you reach?"
The elf lord's eyes drifted down to his hands and he rubbed a finger with a frown.
"There are many possibilities Estel for Elves are capable of mistakes despite the long ages of our natural lives, and we were weary of war and wanted no more of it. Only recently, the last few centuries, did the number of Orc and other foul creatures grow to the degree that we could no longer consider them the tattered and wandering remnants of a past darkness. Even then the Wise counselled that this growth was not Sauron but more like some lesser evil feeding on the ghost power that he had left behind. Yet none of us travelled here to be sure of that. Perhaps we were too weary."
Estel was silent for a moment before he replied.
"Yet the king does not seem weary, nor his son, nor yet his people. Is it that they are Elves who have lived less time on the world?"
Elrond smiled and shook his head.
"No, there are some here who can recall the days before the sun rose, or so Legolas told me on one of his rare visits to us when about his fathers' business. Not Thranduil of course, though he was grown when they crossed the mountains from the west and so must have been born in the first age, but some of the sylvan people and some of his Sindar lords too."
"Why then are they not weary?"
"That I cannot answer for they have seen as much grief and loss as any. Yet you are right in what you say, there is a vigour about them that seems long departed from other elven realms.

"Is that why you wished me to visit?"
"Perhaps in part it is, to gain a better sense of the elves that lived amongst the men of your line through more than song and ley. But there are other reasons too, things that we will discuss later for I would have you know a little of the world outside your home before you submerge yourself within it."
He sighed and put his hand upon Estel's sleeve.
"I know that you would join my sons upon their errantry as soon as I permit it but I would have you know a little more of a settled society, men and elf, before you do so. They can be sombre company, so much so that at times it grieves me, and though they love you dearly I cannot deny that their chosen war against the orc takes too much of their attention for them to be the best of company."
He saw Estel open his mouth to speak and raised a hand.
"Do not think I mean to prohibit your joining them. There is much that you can learn from them I know, of warcraft and survival in the wild, things that will stand you in good stead in your future; but I would see you wait another turn of the seasons, perhaps more, before you embark upon such lessons."

Estel drew a deep breath.
"It shall be as my lord wishes but I will not deny that I grow impatient to join them on their quest, sombre and sorrowful though I know it is. Such deeds must lie before me for such is the lot of my father's people and unless I abandon them it will be mine also."
Elrond nodded with a faint smile.
"This I know and in time so shall it be, but there are other lessons I would have you learn in these last years before you reach your manhood. But we will talk of that another time. I must finish my meal for I would see the king again before he begins his duties for the day."
"Which are many and various or so his son tells me."
Elrond inclined his head with a sigh.
"Indeed. The weight that sits upon his shoulders is greater than I had understood, far heavier than my own burden. I would not keep him from those who need his council or judgement.
Estel nodded and rose gracefully to his feet.
"Prince Legolas promised me some lessons in woodland tracking at the feast last night. I am to meet him in the stables before the eighth bell. If you will excuse me I will collect my knife and quiver and present myself to him in a timely manner."

Elrond smiled.
"Then away with you, for I would not wish to make you late for so generous an offer on the prince's part."
That was met with a bright smile and a little bow before the eager student hurried away.
Elrond turned his eyes to his book but all interest in the page had fled, With a deep sigh he snapped it shut; he poured and drained a cup of milk then took a hunk of bread and a piece of cheese and tucked them into his pocket. He left without a word to any of those remaining and turned his steps towards the gate and the forest.

xxx

The sunlight was still pale but the air between the towering trees was already warming and the sound of birds was all around him. He had never truly realised how scant the birdsong in Imladris was until he had entered Greenwood, now he wondered how he would bear the loss of it. A robin and a wren called indignantly as he passed too close to the thicket that hid their young and he bowed his apology before moving on. Rabbits ran across the path before him kicking their heels and bobbing their tails as they did so, disappearing into the undergrowth with barely a disturbance of grass or bush. Elrond found himself wishing that he could reach out and touch the mind if the wider world as Thranduil's people seemed able to do, to feel the pulse and song of life as well as see its outward manifestation. Not for the first time he wondered how much of the knowledge and power of the sylvan, and even the atari, of the forest the Sindar lords had managed to master, how much the king had mastered; he was inclined to think that it might be more than his Noldar kin had ever given credence to.

That gave him pause for thought for the Sindar had been much skilled in the knowledge and craft valued by the Noldar before they came east, that combined with the older knowledge of the people of the forest could make them powerful indeed. Perhaps that might provide an answer to how Thranduil had not been overpowered by the darkness centuries ago. Yet the thought raised more questions in his mind and more uneasiness in his heart. Losing such an ally for their own pride and folly would be painful indeed. That thought took his mind back to the discussion of the morning before.

Thranduil had stared down into his bowl of tea with a shuttered expression and the deep calm voice had betrayed nothing of his thoughts. Yet his words were plain enough, blunt even.
"It is clear that you care much for Arathorn's son, and it is true that the father was good man. Yet why do you worry so much for his fate as king, if that fate comes to be? From what you have said you do not see his early death as part of either road, and the fate of men is not in our gift, why then the concern?"
He looked up and the blue eyes fixed in his visitor with an unwavering stare.
"Why are you so troubled by the idea that he might not prove to be a great king?"
Elrond recalled that he had closed his eyes at this point and drawn a deep breath but he had answered the question honestly, perhaps more so than he had done so, even in the privacy of his own thoughts.
"For my own good."
The words came out as a strained and pained whisper.
"I'll not deny that I have personal interest in this. You of all I owe that honesty."

The king remained silent for a moment more then his voice came softly and the tone was kind.
"Why should you, for it is clear that what concerns you lies close to home as well as in the wider world. I have ruled long enough to know that the two may sit side by side honourably in some instances and that one does not preclude the other."

Elrond looked up to see that Thranduil was still looking at him closely, tea bowl held loosely in his hand, and yet for all the unlaced shirt and huntsman breeches there was something disturbing in the scrutiny for the fey look was once again in the king's eyes. He spoke slowly.
"Not for Imladris sake I think, nor for your sons." He tilted his head like an eagle considering possible prey and his voice was considering.
He had met the look squarely but said nothing and after a moment Thranduil leaned back in his chair with a startled look.
"Arwen? That is your fear? You think that the time of elves draws towards its close and that your Evenstar will face the same choice as the Morningstar and that she will choose the same way?" He stared at Elrond for a moment in silence then he shook his head sadly." You fear too that her fate will be bitter and regretted when it cannot be undone."

Elrond remained silent and Thranduil sighed deeply, his face suddenly sombre.
"If so then I have no words of comfort for you, it would be an insult to claim that I do. I have lost many that I loved, more again that I respected, valued and cared for, but I bear those losses in the knowledge that one day we might meet again in the blessed lands. Though I have no desire to sail as yet, the belief that when the day comes, and I know that one day it will for I am Sindar, however much I love my forest Realm, there will be a place for reunions, reconciles me to the doings of the world. But my child is elven and he faces no such choice, I cannot think how it would torture me if he did knowing what the world can be."
He sighed.
"Hard, indeed, is the choice that faces you, for to prevent such a fate if it condemns the world to darkness cannot be considered, yet the alternative is harsh indeed. To think that you might lose her forever….."
The words tailed away and when he spoke again there was gentleness in his voice that Elrond had not heard before.
"But were my son to be the one facing such a choice I am sure that I would do anything, everything, within my power, to ensure that his chosen path was as free of regret as could be managed."

Elrond met the king's eyes and recalled his words to Estel of the many faced king and knew that for the moment he looked upon Thranduil the elf and father and not the king and knew that he was being silently told that he might speak as such.
He smiled slightly.
"For that I thank you, as I thank you for your quick perception and clear sight; for relieving me of the need to say it."
Thranduil inclined his head.
"Then tell me the sum of it and how you think I might help. I have not seen Arwen since her mother departed for the Havens but I recall her as a gallant and gracious lady and I would not see a fell fate befall her if there is ought I can do that might help to avoid it."

Elrond took a swallow of tea then drew a deep and steadying breath, pushing the fear, ever close when he thought of such matters, to one side.
"The choice may be stark indeed. If the battle with Sauron is lost and darkness prevails then the world and all we hold dear may also be lost, for how long I cannot see. In that future it is my feeling that Arwen, like most of our kin who survive the early battles, will sail west. In this thread of the future she may be lost to me for a while if I fall but the undying lands will not be touched and in time we will all be reunited."
He drew another deep breath and his voice fell lower the timbre of it betraying his grief.
"But if the darkness does not prevail, the battle with Sauron is won; my sight says that then Arwen will cleave to Estel, and that he will be king."
"As I said the defeat of Sauron is an outcome to be hoped."
Elrond inclined his head slowly.
"Yes, and for all, I own that. But the path goes on, it does not end there, for time and events must continue, and the progress of it is shadowed. I can see two ways ahead and I cannot say which is the true path or even if there is one as yet determined."

Thranduil shifted in his seat but the look of sympathy and understanding in is face did not change.
"I believe that is often the nature of such sight, though I have no personal experience of the matter. Those paths are… what? One you clearly dread above the other but which and why?"
"Both are shadowed as I say and yet I can feel some of what each carries even though I cannot see the deeds with clarity."
Thranduil frowned slightly.
"What then is it that you sense, that the ring will somehow return, that Sauron will rise again? How could that be if the battle is truly won this time?"
Elrond smiled sadly
"There are many other paths to evil beside Sauron and the Ring, certainly for Men. We have both walked this world long enough to know them. Not all have evil as their intent; in fact many may begin as the wish for good."
Thranduil nodded.
"Certainly the wish for good poorly thought through or undisciplined by reason has often resulted in evil, and men seem as prone to that as they are to the evil itself."
"Yes," the word came out as a sigh. "Perhaps it is in the limit of their life times that the issue lies. Even Isildur might have come to see the error of his choices had been granted the life time to do so, and made his choice right as a consequence."
"Perhaps, but let us speak of Arwen, of Estel. How do these two paths you see wind and where do they lead?"

Elrond paised for a moment and took a sip of tea as he gathered his thoughts, to order them in this manner, to subject them to scrutiny rather than pained acceptance, was a new endeavour. He spoke slowly.
"They begin in the same place, the King returned, the sundered kingdoms reunited and the Realm of the men of the West restored. Estel takes his name and place by right of both birth and battle and Arwen stands beside him choosing a mortal life as his queen as is her birthright."
Thranduil looked at Elrond with sorrow.
"And so she is lost to you however the road progresses from there."
"She is, and nothing you or I can do will alter that, I know it and though I rail against it in my heart I know that if Sauron falls then Arwen will chose a mortal life and leave her kin. It is for that reason I ask your help as one father to another, for though I cannot change it I would have her burden be as light as can be made for her sake and for mine, and for her mother who will lose her daughter without ever saying goodbye."

Thranduil nodded slowly.

"So tell me how your request to me has bearing upon Arwen's burden. What are these two roads that you see?"
"See is perhaps not the best of descriptions, for the sight as such is fragmented, scattered. The glimpses are small, events of little meaning taken alone and yet bound together by a strong impression, a feeling of how the future will progress. In one strand I see, feel, a hope returned a hundred fold, satisfaction and a deep and deepening love and joy. I feel the easing of old wounds and losses and the satisfaction of peace and justice restored."
"And the other, I assume all does not progress to so fulfilling a conclusion."
"Elrond sighed and shook his head.
"No. The second path starts at the same place and in the early days progresses much the same but it does not last. As you say there is regret, a great deal of it. There hope is shrivelled quickly, by error and false steps I think, by inexperience with little time to learn, or so I wish to think. The outcome is power poorly wielded and friendships traded upon or blighted. I fear that on this path justice is sacrificed for expediency, anger and bitterness stir old enmity and greed is left unchallenged, whilst lust and cruelty are let flower and are named as freedom."
The king shook his head sadly.
"An old story then and one the world has seen before. But what, then, of the protagonists?"

Elrond turned to face Thranduil.
"In both Arwen remains constant to her choice and vow, yet I could wish that she did not. Oh, not in that first bright path, there she lives a mortal life but in love and the flowering of promise, there is, and must be, some pain, some regret but more than all there is a sense of fulfilment and gratitude. I grieve for it, for the loss of her, but would not want it taken from her if it is her choice."
He took another swallow of tea and his voice sank lower.
"But in the second. Ai the second! There she must live to know that all she had given was for naught. There she must face a mortal life with a husband she does not recognise, a man of regret and bitterness at his disillusion and his own failures. In that future she must feel the pain of having surrendered her elven nature and her family for one who loves her still but bewails and resents her sacrifice. She must watch as the pride and errors of the past are repeated, and to see pain and evil arise from those repeats. To dwell in partnership with the one who failed at his promise and allowed it to be."
His voice sank lower still.
"To live with the regret of what her children will inherit; fear too, of what her children and their children may become, and to know that she will be unable to prevent it."

He stared at the trees and the warming air fell suddenly chill again as he recalled the heavy silence that had followed his words, and felt again the dread in his own heart, for he had never allowed his thoughts to go so far before. Thranduil had nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on some point the other could not see, no surprise of disbelief in his face, like Elrond himself the king had lived too long and seen too much to be shocked at such a thought. He spoke softly.
"Bitter it would be, a terrible fate indeed and I understand why the very thought of it so bears you down."
His eyes came back to meet Elronds' own.
"You feel that it is inexperience alone that takes his feet in such a direction?"
"I do, at least I pray so."
"Then why not send him out into the world to learn?"
"In time I will but not yet and not as he is now, he is not ready. You have spoken with him a little, and I would have you speak more with him if you will, but do you think his heart to be at fault?"

Thranduil remained silent, tilting his head in thought, giving the question due regard. When he responded he spoke slowly as if still measuring his words.
"No, I have no such sense of him. Indeed I would say that his nature, such as I have seen it, shows nobility that harks back to the great days of his line. He is quick too for one of so few years, and with a perception that comes from some force within him rather than his span."
He sighed and took another swallow of tea.
"But I can see how those very strengths might also be his weakness in the world of men, for they may easily lead him to disillusion and despair. You are right that he must be tempered a little before he faces the full fire of a darkening world if the light in him is not to be snuffed out before it takes firm hold."
Elrond felt the first faint stirring of hope and he stared at the king with an unguarded look.
"Will you aid me in so tempering him? In setting him on the road towards being a king? You were right in saying that you could not teach him the sum of it yet is there some way in which you may open his eyes to the nature of mortal men, help him into an understanding of the frailty of the honour of his line, without the knowledge crushing him?"

He looked down.
"Though I do not regret my guardianship of him, and though he is as close to a son to me as any mortal could be, I confess that I would see another fate for my daughter. I will strive to keep Arwen from his company should she return to my house, though I fear no attachment between them yet, young as he is. But later when he is come to manhood and the danger is greater I will seek to steer them from each others path. Yet in the end if it is her doom I know that I will fail."
The king inclined his head in thought again then gave a slight nod.
"I see why you seek a way to bend the line of fate away from such a path, but I see too that if it is her doom then neither you nor I nor any other in Arda may prevent it. For her sake I will give the matter some further thought. There are things I can see that I might do that could set his feet upon the path, ways to widen his understanding of men and their frailty without despair. But I must speak with Legolas first for some part of it, perhaps the greater part of it, will fall to him. He is not without his own burdens at this time and I will not lay this charge upon him if I have reason to think it may hinder his own peace. We will speak of this again, but I would ask that you wait in patience and say nothing of this to my son at this evening feast."

Elrond sighed and leaned against a young beech his eyes seeking the sky between the overarching boughs. There the conversation had ended for Thranduil had set down his cup and rising had set about preparing himself for the day and with a nod of thanks he had excused himself.

He had been right it seemed in judging the mood of the prince on that short visit of a few seasons ago and he had wished he could have delayed this request of the father until he had made sure of the sons recovery; but something told him that time was running out and that Estel would set his foot upon the fated road more swiftly than might be expected.

With another sigh he resumed his wandering wondering how long he would have to wait for the answer.