A/N
So, having had my laptop die, including the hard drive, I then stepped on the flash drive that held the backup. As a result I now have to rewrite this and all following chapters from scratch. As that laptop and drive also held most of my notes a few inconsistencies may creep in for which I apologise.
Can I also beg indulgence for any minor typing or spacing errors, having had surgery my vision and concentration is still a little lacking. Hopefully I've trapped the worst of them.
To those who left a review to which I haven't responded please accept my apologies, I will when I can. To those I can't reply to, thank you for reading, for your interest and time, your comments are very much appreciated.
To anyone who reads this, thanks for doing so – I know its huge and sprawling and perhaps not quite what you expected but it will get finished .
As always all the genius lies with JRRT, and ownership of any individual element with whosoever the relevant law deems to be the case
In the Halls of the Elvenking – Second Thoughts
Legolas sighed as he left the palace and made his way through the glade of silver birch that led to the outdoor stables. The morning was bright, a butter golden sun shining against a pale blue silken sky scattered with piles of feather pillow clouds. The leaves fluttered on a gentle breeze as he passed by and the bark of the trees glowed as brightly as the edge of one of his fathers' swords. All around him spring was at its best offering a gentle foretaste of the summer to come. Yet the day lacked perfection, for him at least, for other than the rustle of the foliage the trees remained silent and he wondered yet again if they would ever forgive him enough to return to speaking terms. With another sigh he pushed the thought away, nodding to a groom who passed him on his way back to the palace and trying to turn his mind to the matter of this day.
He had made his offer of a day in the forest together to the young Estel on an impulse, helped a little by good food and wine, and if the truth were told he was now regretting it. As he wandered slowly towards the stables a frown gathered on his brow at the thought of the hours to come, and yet he felt some slight shame at his reluctant mood for the promise had been freely given and in no way sought. Nor had he any reason to doubt either the boys' pleasure at the offer, or of his manners or of his genuine desire to learn, yet he was growing more uncertain of the wisdom of his actions with each step.
He had no quarrel with this boy who lived within Elronds' house but he was of a mortal line after all and young even by their reckoning, whilst Legolas was many, many centuries past his majority. He had not been born until after Isildures' death and so, unlike his father, had no reason for any personal sense of betrayal by his line, but nor did he have any common experience that might foster a sense of companionship between himself and the youth. He sighed again and his frown deepened, had it not been for Thorin Oaken shield and his greedy pursuit of a dragon he would barely have noticed the passing of the years that made nearly the sum of the boys' life, how could he possibly converse with one whose span was so brief? Where could he find some common point of interest, particularly when he could not speak of the boys' line or future for fear of betraying that which the mortal did not yet know?
Legolas had sworn he would not disclose what he knew of those matters but it meant that much must not be said for fear of where it might take the young mortals' mind. But what then could they have to say to each other? History and time separated the two kindred and he had seen more in his life than this youth could ever imagine. How many Stewards of Gondor he had known of? He couldn't count but it must be close on a score, and he had travelled to Minas Tirith in his youth during the last days of its greatness more than five centuries ago. He had seen Arnor too whilst their power was not wholly lost and when the people of that Realm were still many rather than the scattered tribes of the present. As for the boys' fathers' line, they went almost unremarked in elvish life for they were gone in barely a heartbeat. Only Elrond noted their coming and passing in any detail for they shared blood and so they were dear to him, brief as they were.
Yet he had made the promise, rash as it no seemed, and he would honour it for he understood Estels' wish to increase his tracking skills before he took to the wastes with Elronds' sons. This he had confessed he desired to do, as his wine cup was emptied and refilled the youth had prattled much about their deeds and his desire to assist in those endeavours. Legolas had smiled but held his tongue on the matter, for Elronds' twin sons were often dour and melancholy since their mothers departure, at least in as much as he knew of them. By accounts he had heard, for they rarely met, they spent much time in the wild with the Rangers of the North and were fixed upon their self appointed task of vengeance and so unlikely to be easy with the mortals' inexperience. No doubt the youth knew this and through tuition sought to increase his chance of being permitted to join them. Perhaps that had also been in Elronds' mind when he brought him here for sheltered Imladris would offer far less opportunity.
Legolas was no teacher but he would not renege on his promise having given it, yet he found himself wondering how best to approach the matter of the day. Estel was being raised by elves it was true but his nature was largely of men and he had heard that mortals of this age were unwilling to listen to anyone their senior, being convinced of their own skills and arrogant and certain in their inexperience.
'As are some elves, remember Tauriel, was that not her manner?'
The voice of the imp of despair cut suddenly into his thoughts catching him unprepared, for it was now near on three cycles of the moon since last it had commandeered his mind in this abrupt manner. He halted and cursed silently , though not with the angry grief he had once felt when it belaboured him, and he ruefully admitted that he could not argue the truth of the thought.
'Aye, so it was now I reflect upon it,' he answered himself more calmly than would once have been the case. 'Yet I did not notice it at the time. Strange that seems to me now. Perhaps if I had spent some time with this young son of men before those fateful days I might have seen her words for what they were, and avoided much grief and pain, for both myself and for others.'
'Yet that pain is not gone.' The imp continued. 'Do you not see it in your fathers' eyes? Do you not feel the grief and fear in him for what you did and what it might yet cost?'
Legolas sighed again.
'Indeed I see it and I would give anything to take it from him, yet, as he has said, the past cannot be changed and the only way that I can ease his grief is to find my way back to myself, to recover the joy in my life that once I had. To once more be the son I was before the desire for her regard stole me away. I have promised to do so and I will honour that vow.'
A thought struck him and he paused for a moment reviewing the new idea with interest.
'Perhaps my giving aid with this young mortals' training might help with that,' he mused. 'It will remind me what patience is, and also that mistakes are unavoidable as we learn.'
'Mistakes,' the imp scoffed. 'Which mistake, hers' or yours'? For you are no child and what was there for you to learn in that matter? It was no mistake that led you to side with one who would murder your father for a foolish whim.'
Legolas shook his head, surprised not to feel a surge of the familiar despair at the reminder of his actions but something softer and closer to regret.
'I did not side with her, though I grant that I sought to protect her from a fate she would have earned, a fate that was never truly threatened. Also it was a whim shared by a wizard, though I will grant that in this wizards' case that might be no defence, for it seems to me that he was as much at a loss as she was. Guilt so my father says, the wizards whim sprang from a desire to atone for those events that he had set in motion with so little thought.'
He sighed and stared up at the bright green leaves dancing on the breeze above him with a faint smile.
'Yet my father forgives him, and seeks no recompense. From that I would also wish to learn. Though the wizard made no threats it is true.'
He frowned again, his thoughts far beyond the vale of trees around him.
'I have seen much in my life thus far, at least by a mortals measuring, and yet in some ways I had also seen too little to be prepared for that day. In easier times I saw Rohan and Gondor and I have travelled north to Annuminas on Lake Evendim in the days when the last of the men of Westerness still dwelt there. I have ventured into the Grey Mountains also and west to Imladris on occasion, and yet what of note did I learn by such journeys that would have served me on that day? Little perhaps, other than the sad truth that the span of mortal men and dwarf is, as my father said to her, too brief for happy love between us.'
He sighed again, recalling how little thought he had given to the deeds of that day as they unfolded.
' Perhaps nothing at all for my travels involved no threat or discord nor unhappiness, nor great decision or undertakings on my part. I have not stood before the dark ones gate, nor before the serried ranks of the enemy with only uncertain allies at my back. Unlike my father I had never known true despair before that time; never had I been called upon to face any bitter truth. He had had to face the knowledge that the war that cost him his father and many others he loved was fruitless because of one mortal mans' weakness and an elf's' indulgence, and with such knowledge his judgement of matters was always likely to be different to mine, as it was different to hers. '
He gave another soft smile.
'Yet my father is willing to aid him, this boy of Isildurs' line, and Elrond too who has often proved to be of little use as an ally. If he can forgive that then I need have no doubt about his forgiveness of me.'
The imp sneered.
'Forgive no doubt, for he loves you, but he cannot forget. He dare not do that for fear you repeat your mistake. Were you not tempted when she asked to see you secretly, did not some part you yearn to run to her side to comfort her and assure her of your understanding?'
Legolas drew a deep breath and stared sadly at the nearest tree drawing a silken green leaf gently through his fingers, finding reassurance and comfort in the feeling of the life within it despite its silence.
That is true, I did so wish. But only for a little while and then the desire was easily put aside. Her letter called to my heart, for what she once was to me if nothing else; and I confess it stirred some guilt for she has lost much, so much more than I it seems. But the choices were her own after all, none were forced upon her. That guilt carried little force when I weighed it against the danger such an act would carry and the grief it would cause my father if he knew. Perhaps I have learned something after all, grown a little wiser.'
The imp did not answer this time but for a moment his thoughts remained in the past and he leaned his head against the trunk of the nearest tree his eyes once again fixed on a snowy day in Dale. How different that day must have seemed to his father who bore the weight of a crown upon his head, and who knew that he held the balance of others lives within his hands. How different it must have seemed to one who carried the memory of bringing a a shattered army home and the grief that followed. When all he had cared about amongst the chaos and death was her grief, and all she had cared about was a dwarf she barely knew.
Not for the first time he sent up a prayer that he would never need to experience his fathers thoughts and decisions upon that day.
He sighed again. How he wished to understand what it was about the dwarf that had called to her heart, for though he no longer believed in the great love she had professed he did not doubt that something powerful had held her in its grip. What could it have been that pushed her into such a course of action? He could not help but feel that only when he understood that could he understand, and perhaps forgive, his own actions that day. What could it have been that caused her, an elf raised in his father house, to behave in such a manner, like a foolish and wayward human child?
The wondering brought his thoughts back to the boy, who was probably already waiting for him. He pushed the past away and turned his mind firmly to the present and resumed his journey towards the stables still wondering at his fathers' request. If he was to comply with his fathers' wish that he mentor Estel a little then he would need to build some form of relationship with the young one, and he was determined that he would wholeheartedly assist as he was asked in any boon his father granted to Elrond. He had no doubt that the king had good reason for what he did.
It was no debt being repaid of that he was sure. Elronds' kin had not stood friend to their Realm in the years of the darkening forest, instead they had lived in tranquil peace within their hidden valley, serene and untroubled with their harps, lore and poetry even as the elves of the Greenwood fought for their very lives. How that had been possible he could not be fully sure but as his father had said in the past there was only one likely explanation for that peaceful Noldar sanctuary, and where else would the last Noldar king have gifted such a trinket?
Nor was it for the mortals' sake that his father gave them aid, given the line from which he sprang, ignorant of that as he was. Isildur had taken the ring instead of destroying it and in doing so had given Sauron both hope and the chance of regaining strength; his fathers' darkest fears. Their years of struggle against the spreading darkness could be traced to that act. No, if the king chose to help the Lord of Imladris in this matter then there were reasons, as yet undisclosed to his son, for his choice. Reasons that his father for the moment did not wish to discuss. In time, perhaps, he would learn more.
He sighed again as he rounded the last curve in the birch glade path and the stables came into view. But that did not solve his immediate difficulty, what by the stars was he to say to the youth?
xxx
Elrond had perched himself upon a fallen branch at the edge of the paddocks, in sight of the gate, and turned his attention to his book. The butler, if that's what he was, had told him that the king had gone with his closest guard to look at some yearlings with a mind to identifying a possible future mount. So on impulse he had come to the same place, though he wasn't sure for what purpose.
But for the moment all was quiet and the book held his attention no more securely than it had done earlier, and as the air warmed around him and the shadows from the leaves above him deepened Elrond found his mind drifting again, this time back to his recent encounter with Galion.
Thanduils' butler, though Elrond was not sure the title accurately described him, had been polite enough when asked for the kings whereabouts but there had been some reserve, a hint of something that might almost be considered disapproval, in his look. It had been the same every time he had met the other elf, and in the days that they had been in the kings Halls Galion had never offered any more than the minimum number of words required for his business. Elrond found himself suddenly caught with the desire for something more than the barest minimum from the other, though he could not have said why.
So when Galion had replied in the briefest terms to his question he had sought to prolong the conversation a little, smiling and remarking that one of the kings' height must have limited choice in mounts even amongst elven stock. The other elf had seemed taken aback for a moment and then he nodded.
"Indeed that is so my lord." A look of scorn settled on his face. "Perhaps that is where the foolish story of the great elk springs from, for I gather tales of him riding one to Erebor are common and much favoured by some."
Elrond had felt a stab of annoyance even as he laughed, for he too had heard the story of the elk. It was one of the favourites of the younger Noldar elves who were the most vociferous in their condemnation and criticism of Thranduil and his rule, in other words the ones who knew least about it. Though how they can come by the tale he couldn't fathom. Not that he intended to report that to Galion,, or to allow the story to continue any longer upon his return.
He schooled his expression to gentle and respectful amusement as he replied.
"Perhaps so, it is a pretty enough picture though, if only credible amongst those who know nothing of the harsh nature of battle. For myself I doubt an elk, even a great one, would be a suitable mount for a battle charge and certainly not for an armoured rider over hard ground. Though if trained I suppose the antlers might come in useful"
Galion frowned at him.
"I could not say my lord, having never myself been a warrior."
His disapproval was now clear, whether at the image painted or at the levity on a matter that had touched his people so harshly and so recently Elrond could not be sure but he cursed himself for his foolish and unintended insensitivity.
Yet he could not take the words back and so he continued as if the offence had not occurred for he would not draw further attention to it to one who could not reprimand him. If the truth be told he found the image appealing even as he deplored the sources and nature of the story. He inclined his head in agreement.
"I have, but in past times, unlike the king. From my recollection of the chaos of battle I would think it it would be an unpredictable and unreliable mount."
"No doubt my lord and only a fool would think otherwise! However it is the truth that the kings horses are of necessity strong and tall and broad, perhaps to the uninformed there is some similarity in that. At least those that he rides in battle must be, even though his armour and weapons were forged in a previous age and made by smiths skilled in their craft in Doriath and weigh far less than might be expected."
Galion bowed once more and made to move away causing Elrond another pang of regret and a feeling of reluctance to let the conversation end in such a manner. He smiled again and spoke quickly.
"Foolish though the idea is I confess that it disappoints me that he has never ridden one, for it is a pleasant image that of the king of the wood riding a creature of the wood is it not?"
The butler turned back towards him and his frown changed to a look of surprise.
"Forgive me my lord I did not mean to mislead. The king does indeed have a number of great elk that carry him when he performs errands deep amongst the trees, and perhaps that is where the story began. But he does not ride them on open land nor when hunting or in battle."
Elrond felt his brows rise almost of their own will.
"Indeed! Then I must ask if he will show me these steeds. Are they housed within the stables?"
"Oh no my lord, that would not do at all for they are creatures of the forest and do not like to be penned. He will call if he needs them and they will come if they are so inclined. They are not bound to do so, for they are wild in nature. The King accepts the gift of their service when they give it but he makes no demands, nor punishes when it is refused. The King is a wise lord who understands the nature of such things."
Elrond nodded
"Ah, forgive me my error I should have known better. We have no such beasts in my lands for the valley is small and the slopes around it are steep, I doubt they would find it to their tastes. But I would join the king and see these yearlings if I might, for I believe you have some stock drawn from Rohan and I have heard many tales of the beauty and power of their horses."
Galion bowed again and some of the stiffness of a moment ago seemed to leave him.
"I am sure the King would not object. You will find the path to the paddocks to the right of that which leads to the outside guest quarters."
With a further bow he moved away, no doubt about some business of the household. Elrond watched him go and thought for a moment on the pitfalls such conversations must hold for them all and then set off towards the named path.
So now he sat in a small pool of sunlight and waited, wrapped in the peace of the forest and the sound of bird song and rustling leaves. He pushed the memory of that conversation away and allowed the beauty of the forest to wrap him in content. The new year was passed and summer would soon be upon them, and just as the winter had been uncommonly cold, though quite short further west, so the summer promised to be warm. For a little while he allowed the peace to cocoon him, feeling something he couldn't quite explain tug at his heart and warm his spirit, something quite different to the peace of his own protected valley. There was an air, a magic, about this part of the Greenwood, that part where the shadow had never held sway, that whispered to him in a language that seemed familiar but that he couldn't understand, a memory that beckoned him and yet eluded him. Something of the ages past as well as the present beauty. In this place and at this moment he came closer to understanding why Sindar Lords of the west had been willing to leave the glory of Lindon for the different and simpler lives of these northern forests.
Then as contentment settled into joy his mind went drifting again back to his earlier speculation regarding Thranduils' answer to his request, and about how soon he might have some indication of the kings intent on the matter.
There were but five sunrises to the last feast of spring and he did not wish to tarry here too long after that, for he had business to conduct with Celeborn. Too little was known as yet of the state and safety of south of the forest to travel by a direct route and so they would need to trek back towards the elven gate and around the skirts of the forest, which meant a journey of near on a month. If he was to get to Lothlorien and do what must be done, and be back over the mountains before the first autumn frosts and ice struck the high pass, then he could not spend more than another ten sunrises here.
Nor would he wish to outstay his welcome or risk unpleasant strife, for though some of his travelling companions had found a measure of ease with their hosts there were still those whose conduct verged towards disdain. Something he would take them severely to task about once they were beyond the ears of curious and observant wood elves. Many conversations were fraught with difficulty and possible offence, both innocent and intended, and whilst the king ignored provocation, often pointedly mishearing it, a skill he was most adept at, some of his people, and even his lords, were less forgiving. He feared that too much longer here and something would be said or done that would cause a real breach, for he could not be all places at all times. Not for the first time he wished that Glorfindel had accompanied them.
The upcoming feast in particular was fraught with danger for he had no doubt that the wine would flow freely and so loosen the tongues of those less accustomed to it than the wood elves. Much could be broken in a few words and their hosts trust was already uncertain, it would not take much to rupture what goodwill there was. But nor could they leave before that feast without causing great offence and so there was little choice but to speak sternly to those whose discretion he was uncertain of and keep those he trusted least closest to him.
There were other reasons to stay a little longer too, other conversations he would wish to have with the king and his advisors and commanders. Thranduil had wider links to the world than he had expected and it seemed that he was a regular, if infrequent, correspondent with both the King of the Mark and the Steward of Gondor, as well being an occasional visitor to the newly rebuilt Dale. His trading links seemed to stretch far to the south, mainly with other smaller elven communities but also to some societies of men; wine, dried fruit and herbs travelled north whilst wood, cloth and other herbs travelled south. From which trade much could be and no doubt was, learned.
Nor did Elrond doubt that Thranduil had an enviable web of spies and informants available to him, one that put his own less extensive network to shame. Wearing a crown had some advantages even in these days for certainly human informants much preferred to serve kings than lords, perhaps it made their task feel less like the pedalling of tap room gossip. More than ever he was sure that establishing closer relationships with the Woodland Realm would be of benefit in the dark days that both he and its king believed were coming.
Thranduil had told him of his meeting with the fleeing Easterlings and of what they had said of the growing turmoil in the further east, and it had sent a chill through him. Saurons' work no doubt, unseating those who might oppose him and replacing them with those who would rally to his call; a tactic he had used in the years before the last alliance, just as Morgoth had before him. There remained much to be done in these days of apparent peace for the dark lord would be mustering his forces even now and though it might not fall within the years of current men by an elf's reckoning the war could not be far away.
Thranduil also had other business he needed to attend to, and other allies to consider, not least matters in Dale. He had already spoken of his plans to stay there at the striking of the battle stone and that was intended for summer fare, not far away in the mannish calender. For a moment his mind drifted to the tales he had heard of the battle before the mountain and the threat to the kings life in the ruined city.
He had been careful to avoid any mention of that time or of the troublesome guard who drawn an arrow on her king. In the time before they set out he had debated if there had been some way in which he might remove the burden of her care from the king, some recompense for the aid he requested. But Mithrandir, passing west about business of his own, had told him enough for him to realise that it couldn't be so. A pity but few of the Noldar left in Middle earth could afford to offer succour to one who bore any taint of kinslaying given the deeds of the past.
Thranduils relationship with the dwarfs of the Lonely mountain was something else that much interested him but that he had felt unable to question given the part Oaken shield, and his map, had played in this Realms most recent battle. Yet still he felt that some enquiry would be needed for as far as he knew Dain was every bit as adept at taking offence and holding a grudge as Oaken shield had been, and just as proud and jealous of his name and line. So, given their history, it was never going to be an easy alliance between the two rulers, but some alliance there must be for the good of all.. But Mithrandir had hinted at some other difficulty related to certain exchanges between the two in the hours before Thorins' funeral, something that had filled the dwarf lord with an impotent and bitter rage that he could not vent; though he had been unusually reticent as to the details. No doubt that wound was still sore, and the nature of Dain might keep it so for some time, yet the weight of a crown might dampen even the raging fire of Dains' temper.
But then the wizards words were strangely muted, more than he had come to expect, in any discussion of that battle and the days that followed, it was as if something about his own conduct in the events of that time displeased him. So how this other matter might influence the relationship between elf and dwarf Elrond could not judge. With a mental shrug he pushed the thought away and pulled his mind back to his own concerns,
He smiled as he watched a pair of rabbits scuttle from the bushes, sit up and stare at him for a while before darting back the way they had come, he could only wish he shared their freedom from care for beautiful as this place was the matter of the future and Estel still sat heavily upon him. He looked around him with a sudden sadness, so many of his kin had taken ship and yet more planned to do so, when the dark days came it might be that only the elves of this wood would be the only ones of their kin truly experienced in battle, and much could yet rest with them. Even his own sons, warriors as they were considered to be, had never truly been to war, nor fought in open battle. Something Glorfindel commented on with increasing frequency and something he must yet discuss with Thranduil, just as he planned to discuss it with Celeborn.
The kings' initial response to his had been more gentle and open than had feared it might be, for he had not turned it down out of hand, but on later consideration he might yet choose to do so. Elrond sighed, if he agreed then it would Thranduil the father who made the decision and it would be for Arwen and her children's sake of that he had no doubt. He felt some shame that he had played upon this, disclosed so much of his fear on that matter, knowing how protective his kin were of their children. But he had spoken nothing more than the truth after all, and his shame was a small price to pay for protecting her from a darker fate if he could.
He looked towards the sky with a sigh, he could not deny that the visit to Lothlorien was one he should have taken some time ago, and perhaps it might have been better if he had. Arwen had resided with her mothers parents for several centuries now, in fact for most of the time since her mothers sailing, but now she was planning to return to Imladris and resume her place in her fathers house. By the time she did so Estel would stand on the brink of manhood and on those terms would they meet and come to know each other unless he took action to change it. He could not escape the notion that had she returned home before now, had she known Estel as a babe in arms or a young boy, then the future before them might be different. What it would have been he could not say, no more could he know the other changes in fate that might have followed from such a difference, but for the moment that seemed to him to be of little account.
Elrond frowned to himself, suddenly sure that he had erred badly and that he should have done more to foster his daughters acquaintance with Estel earlier in his life. But there was no changing that, he would take his ward to meet her now, before his maturing was complete, and see if it altered his own sense of the future. Though he held out little hope of persuading her to see a boy for he had more maturity to him than his years might be expected to confer. He sighed, but he was still a boy for all that and it might yet fix her view of him. It would also give the opportunity to seek her grandmothers counsel on the matter.
A laugh drew his attention back to the paddocks and he watched as a group of elves appeared, some leading beautiful, and very large, horses. Thranduil was at the centre of the group, crown less and simply dressed dressed in brown and green and he had his hand upon the neck of a handsome golden coated horse. The elves with him were clearly some of his closest Lords, and one look at their faces told Elrond this was not the time to ask for further discussions on difficult matters. For this was Thranduil the elf, not the king or father, a lord amongst equals, at ease with friends of millennia, his face alight with laughter at some banter or with pleasure at the promise of the graceful animal taking a carrot from his outstretched hand.
As he watched the little group Elrond felt as if he were stepping back in time, back to the days before the last alliance when he had travelled to Orophers court on Gil-galads business and had many discussions about horses with the then prince. Back to a time when the Woodland Realm spanned all of Greenwood the Great, when Thranduil and his people had lived south of the mountains Days when Amon Lac was their home and not the seat of darkness it became.
The king caught sight of him seated beneath the trees and raised a hand in greeting.
"Elrond, will you not join us, for I recall that you once held most definite views on the qualities of a good mount?"
Elrond rose and bowed slightly, aware that not all of those with the king were pleased at the invitation, and smiled.
"I would not wish to intrude upon your business but its true that I would most dearly love a chance to see so beautiful an animal at closer quarters."
The king laughed again.
"Then come and tell us what you think."
Elrond pushed his book into his pocket and strolled towards the paddock gate as the king led the horse towards him, his companions following at a slight distance. Once they were within reach he leaned over the rail and stroked the horses head and ran his fingers down its forehead. Thranduil looked back towards the other elves with a smile.
"In days past Elrond could barely be parted from his horse, and would challenge those who disparaged it with his sword, for I think he spent more time mounted than he did upon his feet."
That brought a smile from most of them and a short laugh from the subject of the comment.
"Indeed I did, for Gil-galads business often kept me on the move and with little time for other company than my horse. The life of Kings Herald can be a lonely one." His smile died. "In the days before the alliance rode to Mordor I travelled many roads, hard and lonely most were, and rarely was there much in the way of ease at the end of them, or time for it. Few I met were as hospitable as your father and your people and I recall my journeys to Greenwood with pleasure, scant and brief though they were, as I do not doubt my wearied horse did."
Thranduil inclined his head but for a moment and Elrond saw the grief flare raw in his eyes and he wondered if he had been wise to speak so openly.
"Would that those days were passed for ever," Thranduil said softly, "but all here know that is not to be the case." His smiled widened,and the grief in his face faded. "But we have this little time of ease and peace so let us enjoy the days whilst we may and hope that matters fall out more hopefully than they have done in in the past. Let us also remember what was good of those dark days and pray for as much again if darkness does fall upon us."
Elrond returned the smile, wondering if there was some message he should take from the words.
"Wise advice indeed," he responded with a small bow. "And a skill your people seem to have well refined and in a manner that many could learn from. I confess that the songs of your people lift my heart to joy more often those I hear in my own house do and I look forward to hearing more of them in the coming feast. Perhaps some of my own companions might learn some, assuming they can moderate their consumption of your very excellent wine."
He quirked an eyebrow at the clustered Lords then he sighed and adopted a woeful expression.
"But perhaps I ask too much, or impose upon them too cruelly for it is very good indeed." The benefits of having a river, for I would never manage to get the barrels over the mountains intact."
The laughter at that seemed to banish the chill his entry had brought about and the group of elf lords turned their attention to the matter what made a good mount.
