The Battle Under the Trees

by ziggy3

It had begun with a distant tremor in the Earth. Then the breathless messengers arrived from the East Bight.'Smoke in the South,' they panted, weariness and fear on their faces. More messengers came. 'It is not smoke but dust, lord. From legions of iron-shod feet spilling from Dol Guldûr like plague.' Thranduil fights for his folk, his land, for his life.

9. Chapter 9 The Feast of Reunion

Gilvaren: OC. Old friend of Thranduil, on the Council of the Wood, originally from Doriath and migrated to Greenwood with Oropher long ago.

Laws and Customs of the Elves stated that sex was within marriage and for the procreation of children. It's not clear where these came from, but the Woodelves have only heard of this as gossip as far as my fics are concerned.

Hithui. Sindarin November

Girithron: December

Chapter 9: The Feast of Reunion

The feast was quite sumptuous enough to satisfy both Woodelves and Galadhrim. If there were not the dainty pastries and delicious morsels that were expected at the tables of the Noldor, thought Thranduil, there was more than enough wine, gambling, dancing, and music to satisfy Sindar and Silvan alike. Many daggers, bows, knives, rings, and other trinkets had changed hands several times that night as they were won and lost and won again in contests of drinking, of archery, wrestling, and less honourable contests.

Elves in twos and sometimes even threes, stole off into the trees to drink and sing and love under the stars, for Celeborn studiously ignored the Laws and Customs* and Thranduil's Woodelves had only heard of these 'Laws' as some vague and outrageous gossip about the Noldor. The Galadhrim and the Woodelves were not so different it seemed, and their lords observed all with quiet amusement and benevolent tolerance.

Celeborn leaned over and filled Thranduil's goblet and then pushed a platter of cheese with different fruits upon it towards him, taking several small red fruits that Thranduil did not recognize and piling them up on his own plate. Celeborn had been telling Thranduil of the events in Lothlorien. 'At the turn of the year, my Marchwardens reported hundreds of Orcs marching north along the edge of the Hithaeglir,' he was saying when Galion's voice rose above the general babble, laughter and singing.

Galion had a very good singing voice. It was a pleasant tenor and had depth and reach. In other words, it was quite loud. Ferendir and Aerglin were sniggering a little drunkenly and encouraging Galion to sing.

'Gil-Galad was an elven king,' Galion sang loudly, and a cheer went up from the elves clustered around his table. 'Of him the harpers sadly sing,

The last whose realm found such bliss,

But nowhere could he find to piss.'

Alarmed, Thranduil caught Gilvaren's eye and jerked his head towards Galion, for the second verse was scurrilous and the third actually mentioned Galadriel. It distracted him more than a little from Celeborn's description of the assault upon Lothlorien that had finally led to the charge against Dol Guldur.

'Too many for my men to engage and too far for us to intercept them,' Celeborn was saying, seemingly oblivious to the drunken singing going on only yards away.

Thranduil saw Gilvaren moved in on Galion and leaned down to mutter something in his ear.

'We assumed they were headed for the goblin cities in the North,' Celeborn said oblivious, 'but I did not think that Sauron would stretch himself so thinly and attack on so many fronts at once.'

Thranduil grunted but was focused on Galion who was glaring mutinously at him. He glared back putting the full force of his will into it.

'I suppose he had been unsuccessful against the Last Alliance by concentrating all his forces in one place in the last war. He made it easy then for all his enemies to meet him upon one battlefield.' Celeborn spat the pips from the little red berries into the palm of his hand.

'I had thought the same,' Thranduil said to Celeborn, whilst not moving his eyes from Galion.

Celeborn leaned towards Thranduil and lowered his voice. 'Of course, when my grandsons brought tidings that the Ring had been found, I realised those orc troops might have had another destination than the Hithaeglir. I am certain now they were on their way to Moria, and then to muster an attack upon Imladris for by then, the Nazgul knew that the Ring was in the Valley.'

Thranduil wanted to question Celeborn about this for this was news to him, but Galion was grinning back recklessly and gave Thranduil an alarming and exaggerated wink. That provoked Thranduil into muttering, 'Excuse me,' to Celeborn and he began to rise from his chair, but it seemed that Thranduil's imminent approach was enough, and Galion decided not to goad Thranduil any further. He looked momentarily alarmed and then stood, and bowed with a flourish to Thranduil, indicating his acquiescence. Gilvaren met Thranduil's gaze and positioned himself behind Galion and let his heavy hand fall upon Galion's shoulder.

Thranduil let himself drop back into his chair and realised that Celeborn's hazel eyes were upon him, twinkling in amusement.

'I have heard that song before,' Celeborn observed cheerfully. 'In fact, I have sung it myself although long ago and some of the words might have changed a bit,' he added astutely. 'Oropher had some very inventive songs, some really obscenely offensive. That one is really very tame.'

Thranduil laughed softly and shook his head. 'Galion tells me that he does have a great talent for improving upon them.' Relieved, Thranduil reached for a succulent plum and bit into it. Juice filled his mouth with sweetness. When had he last tasted such fruit, he wondered and thought that now they could open up trade perhaps, with Gondor, Harad, Lothlorien of course?

'Did you suspect that the Ring had been found?' he asked. 'Surely the White Council had wind of it? I am surprised that it was Mithrandir who led the Company and Curunír allowed it.'

'Ah, of course. You have not had news of Curunír's fall,' Celeborn said and proceeded to tell Thranduil the astonishing story of how the Wizard's betrayal. He told too, how Frodo came to have the Ring and Thranduil almost gaped when he realised it was Ash Nazg itself that had been in his own stronghold, his home when in Bilbo Baggins' possession, and he never knew.

'Ash Nazg was treacherous and subtle. It will have hidden from you, Thranduil. I admit, I felt its insidious call myself and it tried to tell me I could make Lothlorien like Doriath at her greatest. It told me how great I might become, how I might rival Thingol himself.' Celeborn chewed on the little red fruits and smiled wryly at Thranduil. He put one on Thranduil's plate. 'Try it,' he urged. 'They are delicious. They only grow along the Nimrodel.'

Thranduil said nothing for a moment, staring down at the fruit like it was poison, for he was imagining what would have happened had Curunír succeeded in taking the Ring, or Celeborn, or Galadriel had fallen for all that it offered.

Celeborn chewed another fruit and returned to his story. 'In Hithui, my grandsons brought news of Elrond's plan to send a small and secret company to destroy the Ring, he said wryly. 'I admit I thought the plan completely reckless, but it was too late by then. It had all been decided and I thought my grandsons would be part of the company if I am honest.'

They were called the Sons of Thunder by the orcs and goblins of the Hithaeglir, thought Thranduil. They struck terror into their enemies and for that, Thranduil saluted them. He could also understand why Celeborn expected them to accompany the One Ring and wished with all his heart that they had.

Celeborn had fallen silent, cutting another larger yellow fruit into careful slices. Suddenly he said, 'Mithrandir was to lead the Company of course and at his side was the Dunédain, Aragorn. Strider he is called in the West, and Estel here in Lorién,' Celeborn paused for a moment, toying with his knife as if deep in thought, the yellow fruit forgotten.

'I have met him,' Thranduil said, curious that the Man triggered such somber thoughts in Celeborn. 'He brought the creature, Smeagol, to us,' he added carefully. Glancing quickly towards the small knot of men below their own high table had gone, he saw that Galion had thrown his arm cheerfully over Haldir's shoulder and both the Galadhrim and Woodelves were singing cheerfully. He thought that Haldir might be relieved of several items by the end of the evening, but he might be a little wiser.

Celeborn sighed. 'You have guessed that he is the Heir of Isildur.' He glanced at Thranduil.

Thranduil nodded. 'It was obvious once I knew he was a foster child of Elrond.' He poured more wine into his own goblet and then Celeborn's.

'He has my granddaughter's heart.'

Thranduil almost dropped the jug of wine. 'You mean… Elrond's daughter? The one who is supposed to be Luthien's likeness?'

Celeborn gave a bitter laugh. 'Ironic, is it not? But yes. Arwen, my Celebrian's youngest child.' He twirled his goblet between his fingers, looking down. 'Some say she is Luthien reborn. She is not. She is all herself and nobody's fool.' He smiled fondly. 'She is clever and funny and a born leader. She has a gift for governing.'

Thranduil felt a deep well of compassion; this man had lost his only child to the Orcs and then the Sea, the Valar, and now his youngest grandchild would wither and die a mortal. He could not imagine it. 'I am sorry.' He could think of anything else and felt the inadequacy of his words, pressing his lips together in distress. And then he recalled again that the Ring had been in Lothlorien at the same time, and he wondered how Celeborn had managed to resist.

As if he knew, Celeborn said, 'I tell myself it is a comfort to know how noble a Man is Aragorn.' He sighed. 'Now he is King of Men and Arwen will be Queen. Gondor will prosper under their rule, and they will bring peace.'

Thranduil reached out and clasped Celeborn's arm for it was all he could do. Drawing in a breath, Celeborn put his own hand over Thranduil's and said, 'You wonder how I can bear it? I tell you, I do not think I can.'

'No,' Thranduil agreed honestly. 'I can understand that. But you did bear it. When Ash Nazg tempted you, it would not have been Thingol Greycloak's power that it lured you with, I know. And yet, you resisted. And for that, I am not alone in my deep gratitude. If it were my child it offered, my grandchild, I am not sure if I would not have taken the Ring,' he admitted honestly.

Celeborn's mouth was a thin line and Thranduil realised it had been a hard battle he had won; he had been tempted.

There was a sudden burst of laughter and scattered applause from the far side of the feast, and both looked up, broken from their deep thoughts. A fire blazed cheerfully in the centre of the gathering and elves were getting up and moving towards the fire.

'We will see some competition I think,' Celeborn said as their men begin to line up in two rows on either side of the fire. It was Haldir of course, who was first to take a run and leap elegantly over the flames that roared up to meet him. A burst of applause.

Celeborn turned back to Thranduil with an indulgent smile. 'Let me continue for you wish to hear about Legolas and how he came to be amongst us.' He told Thranduil what he knew of the Company's journey, how the storms upon Caradhras were so great that they could not take the High Pass and so they came to Moria. He told Thranduil of the terrible battle between the Balrog and Mithrandir and of Mithrandir's fall, how the company finally came to rest in the Golden Wood.

'So, it is true,' Thranduil said bitterly at last. 'Durin's Bane was a Balrog of Morgoth. What foolishness led Mithrandir to take that path?'

'Ah, indeed,' Celeborn sighed. 'I thought so too when they told me what had happened. But I have since learned that nothing Mithrandir ever does is in vain or foolish.' He smiled wryly at something only he knew, or remembered. 'I did not know then, but Mithrandir took the more dangerous road for himself, bidding Aragorn lead them on while he pursued the Balrog, and killed it when it could have been unleashed upon all of us.'

'Aragorn led the company, fleeing across the Nimrodel, pursued by a band of a hundred orcs. When he told us what had happened I was afraid that they had brought the Balrog with them, that we would see the flames in their wake. Of course, we did not know at that point, what had happened to Mithrandir; for all they knew, and we, he was dead and the Balrog might have survived. And it was now that I realised the great troop of Orcs we had seen moving North to Moria a few days before, were intended to awake the Balrog for Sauron's use in battle.'

The mere thought of it chilled Thranduil and he was about to ask more but their attention was wrested by a gasp of wonder from the elves gathered around the fire. Someone must have done something spectacular and Thranduil saw Ferendir stagger to his feet and cling to Aerglin. His face was pleased and smug.

'Galadriel bid me welcome them though I admit I was afraid of what they had brought with them. They were mainly unharmed except for scratches and bruises, but they were weary and heartsore,' Celeborn continued. 'I was so very pleased to welcome Legolas and have news of all your doings and deeds. He is silvan through and through. He has many friends amongst my folk.' He smiled gently. 'You must be very proud of him.'

'I am,' Thranduil felt his heart swell.

Celeborn's eyes were hazel, green and brown like the Wood and kindly as he looked upon Thranduil. 'Legolas was very grieved when he came to Lothlorien. And not only with Mithrandir's fall for we all believed him dead at that time. But I sensed in Legolas a greater grief.' Celeborn probed delicately and Thranduil pressed his lips together; he had not been able to speak of Anglach since they had lost him.

'We lost someone dear to us,' he said, at first intending to say no more than that. 'You will have heard from Legolas that the creature Smeagol known as Gollum was brought to us by Aragorn, and it was Mithrandir's request that we keep him, much though we wearied of the task. His guards were kindly and would let him climb a tree for Mithrandir bid us have faith and believe there may yet be some good in Smeagol.'

He paused and drank from his goblet. 'I wish I had cut its throat when I first set eyes on it,' he said bitterly.

Anglach.

It had been Anglach who was kind, Anglach who had pleaded to let Smeagol into the sunshine and to climb. Anglach whose ears were cut off and eyes gouged out, his tongue cut out…Anglach. He squeezed his own eyes shut trying to obliterate the terrible sight. For Anglach had been devoted to Thranduil and he had always, always allowed the boy such liberties. Perhaps he had always known a terrible fate was Anglach's.

He did not know how long he had been silently immersed in his grief, only that at last, a warmth stole over him, comforting, a scent of the Wood, earth, and moss and vetivert. He felt as if he were cradled gently, as if his own father were present and he wanted to weep. It was Celeborn he realised and found his tongue at last, loosened by the comfort, the familiarity.

'One of those slain was Legolas' best friend, my… my heart-son. Anglach.' He had not been able to even speak Anglach's name since that night they found their dear boy. 'Others were taken. Laersul led the pursuit through the Wood and into the South. But we were too late. Legolas was with him. He had a chance to give the milui-criss, the merciful cut,' He glanced at Celeborn who nodded; it was known here too. 'But Laersul was beset and only Legolas could save him. He chose to save his brother, the commander and Naurion was taken into the Tower.' He pulled a deep breath into his body for the grief swelled his breast and he remembered Naurion's mother's despair, her bitter grief, her anger. Her curse that he should know what it was to lose a child. 'I can only hope that he was dead before he got there.' He could not bear how close Laersul had come to death, and Thalos yet fought in Dale. And he still did not know if Legolas yet lived. But he had already lost a child in losing Anglach. He could not endure the grief if he lost another.

In the long silence that followed, Thranduil remembered again, that Celeborn had lost his own daughter to torment in the dens of the Orcs.

'We have lost too many,' Celeborn said softly at last. 'Pray this means an end to it all.'

After a while, Celeborn said, 'The company remained with us for some weeks. When they left, I gave Legolas a gift of a Lorién bow, longer and more suited to battle on the plains where they were headed for his own bow is suited to battle under the trees, but I was concerned about the battles he would face ahead. He was much comforted by his new friends.' Celeborn looked at Thranduil as if gauging his reaction, but Thranduil smiled.

'He would have loved a gift such as that. He always loved archery the most.'

'We gave them boats and supplies too, and I gave them as much advice as I could about the river and what they faced. But it is long since we ventured from our own lands and much has changed.'

'Thank you for the kindness you showed him,' Thranduil said fervently. 'I pray that he still stands beside Aragorn. If he survived, pray his companions did too.'

'That is my prayer also,' Celeborn said. Then he licked his lips and turned towards Thranduil. 'I feel I should tell you.' He glanced carefully at Thranduil. 'He became very good friends with Gimli Gloinsson, the Dwarf of Erebor.'

Thranduil nearly choked.

'So much so that when they came at last to leave, we gave them boats to take them more quickly down the Anduin, Legolas shared his boat with Gimli.' He smiled at Thranduil's astonished expression. 'Once given, a Dwarf's friendship is steadfast, and my hope is that it served them both well. I think they will not let the other fall.'

0o0o

Thranduil had not quite recovered from Celeborn's news when Galadriel appeared. How pale she was, and her eyes were bright like she had a fever. If he was shocked at how she looked, he did not show that either. Bloody, eyes fey and wild, a cut on her cheek, a sword at her hip and a ring that gleamed with unearthly light. She wore a shirt, tunic, and boots, like a man and Thranduil approved enormously. More Silvan than Noldor as she strode towards him, uncompromising. He respected her lack of demureness, and almost softened, for he could not deny what she had done, and he rose to his feet, not because she was a woman, still less because she was a queen in all but name, but because he owed her a debt of honour.

'Lady,' he gave her preferred title in respect, and bowed as he did to no other. And she knew it and inclined her head to acknowledge it. 'We are indebted to you.'

'We are all enemies of the great deceiver,' she said and Thranduil was surprised at how weak her voice sounded. She swallowed as if her throat was dry, and sore.

Thranduil pressed a goblet of wine into her hand, and she blinked, glanced up at him in surprise at the courtesy and he was a little ashamed that he had been so curt, so lacking in grace when they had met before, in his missives, in all his dealings with her. Perhaps he had been unfair? 'Here.' He rose and gave up his chair for her, wondering why Celeborn did not and then thinking that perhaps she did not like to be so waited upon. It would not surprise him to find her so.

'Lady?' a servant hovered attentively at her side, poured water, wine in another glass, held a plate for her. 'Venison? Roast boar. There are fish if you prefer, fresh from the river.'

She nodded and Thranduil pretended not to be surprised. Was she going to eat it all? It seemed that she would, for fish appeared first, hot, pink flesh flaking from the crisp skin, roasted in some herbs that he did not recognize. She ate as heartily as Thranduil himself although she spoke little and drank water more than wine. She was still pale, and she closed her eyes now and again as if she were very tired, content to listen rather than speak. Venison and roast boar she ate it all with the appetite of someone who has fought a long, hard battle. Of course, she had, he knew.

Gilvaren had joined them now and was describing to Celeborn their preparations in the Wood, how they had dug leats and built dikes to hold back the river, the earthworks and gullies designed to trap their enemy, drown them, burn them.

Celeborn laughed appreciatively and topped up Gilvaren's goblet first, then Thranduil's. He glanced at Galadriel, but she did not meet his eyes, Thranduil saw, and he did not pour for her. Gilvaren had registered this too but continued, 'Thalos sent brief messages to tell us what he had done but Laegrist gave us more.' He told how Thalos had tricked the orcs into the gully and then released the river. Celeborn laughed loudly and appreciatively, and Galadriel looked up.

'A worthy feat,' she said with a wry smile. 'Cunning as a fox and swift as a deer. How apt for a Woodelf.'

Thranduil found himself liking her more than he ever thought he would, but it was her kindness that undid him.

'I know what it is to grieve for a child,' she said suddenly. 'But be comforted, for Legolas will return to you, although he will be changed. But his merry and kindly heart has guarded him against all that has passed.'

'He lives?' Thranduil could not help the desperation in his voice, the wild hope.

She nodded, looking at him carefully. 'I have seen him in the Mirror.'

Thranduil stared at her; he had, of course, heard that she had a scrying mirror, and it was claimed that she could see the future. He had not believed it, but now, it gave him a little hope.

She had not finished, and she met his eyes with her own steady gaze that seemed to penetrate his very soul. Her face softened suddenly, and she took his hand in hers. It startled him but she did so with such kindness, he did not pull back as he might have done. 'My lord, hearken when I say he is changed.' She said it so the words carried weight and he balanced the meaning in his heart with the elation that Legolas was alive. 'I sent a warning after him, something that I had seen in the Mirror.' She searched Thranduil's eyes earnestly. 'I sent him word and he was not swayed. His journey took him to Lebennin, to the mouth of the Anduin.'

Lebennin? 'But Lebennin is south of the Ered Nimrais.' He frowned. 'That is not the path to Minas Tirith or to Mordor.'

'Aragorn summoned those who dwelt beneath the Dwimorberg,' she said softly, but Thranduil was not thinking of that. He was seeing the maps unrolled in his study far away, home. The map of Gondor showed the Ered Nimrais, and Lebennin, and the Anduin. And the Anduin rolled down to Pelargir.

A wrench of pain tore in his heart. 'The Sea,' he whispered. 'He has heard the Sea.'

0o0o