CHAPTER ONE
THE MISSION
The three blond Elves emerged from the forest into Imladris in single file, walking their horses through the tall evergreens surrounding the arched and highly decorative entrance gates that led into Imladris from the main road. They were being followed by three of the marchwardens from Rivendell's borders who stayed a respectable distance behind the three strange flaxen-haired Elves. The guards had no reason to be overly cautious or suspicious of these Elves. It was clear that they were from Mirkwood and the Imladrians could not help but stare at them with interest as they walked toward Master Elrond's stables.
The three Elves paused at a junction of three pathways to look expectantly at the guards who immediately approached them. The newcomers were Silvan, two of whom were taller than the third, although all three were shorter in stature and lighter in build than the Noldorin and Sindarin Elves of Imladris. The two taller had hair of tawny blonde, but the third one, who was very short and slim, had a head of an unusual shade of reddish-gold hair that shone like burnished bronze in the bright midday sunlight.
"Hail, young Masters." Glorfindel, who was Elrond's seneschal, cried out to Elladan and Elrohir as he trotted alongside the identical twins' practice field upon his fine white stallion. "Would you cut short your swordplay and join your father in the Hall of Fire?"
"Are you asking us to come right at this moment?" asked Elladan. He stopped sparring with his brother, and wiped the perspiration from his well-muscled chest with a strip of cloth that appeared to be his shirt.
"Yes, and hurry, please," replied Glorfindel. "Apparently your father has an important piece of news that he wishes to share with you without delay," Glorfindel announced. "Shall I go back to him and tell him you will be joining him as soon as you have cleaned up?"
"Of course, Glorfindel," said Elladan, glancing at his twin with a worried look. It was unusual for Elrond to call them away from their activities in the middle of the day unless the matter was urgent.
Some minutes later, Elladan and Elrohir entered the Hall of Fire clean, and dressed in typical warrior under-clothing—unadorned tunic over tight-fitting, dark leggings. They saw that the great room was occupied by a number of Rangers of Imladris whom they knew very well, plus three blond Elves whom they did not know at all. These strange Elves were small of stature and slender, and were dressed in the soft green and brown suedes of the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood.
"Ah. Please enter, my sons," Elrond looked up and welcomed them. They noticed that a grave look shaded his noble face, giving it a grayish hue. He usually looked ageless, but at this moment he appeared ancient. "I have asked you to join me here along with some of your kindred rangers to address an issue that seems to be a matter of urgency for us. Word has been brought here by these messengers from Mirkwood that there are bands of Orcs that have been seen recently in the north, and that they are becoming more numerous in the far reaches of Arnor. I wish to dispatch a large group of Rangers—all of you present in this room—to go there post-haste and disperse these Orcs before they can form an army large enough to cause us any trouble. There will be six of you from Imladris as well as Elladan and Elrohir. I cannot spare any more warriors at this time—I need senior Rangers such as Glorfindel to train new soldiers. I am also asking the three messengers from Mirkwood if they will accompany you."
The three flaxen-haired Elves bowed slightly toward Elrond's sons and the rest of the group. The twins noticed that their faces were pale, and bore expressions of deep melancholy.
"There is more," said Elrond, his voice growing deeper. "Thranduil has written that Prince Legolas, my adopted son Aragorn and other Dúnedain Rangers have been missing for six months. It is known that they had planned to travel into Arnor. It is of the utmost urgency that we discover their whereabouts and to give them aid if necessary. Now if you would, please greet Bethos, Penlod and Ilfrith, who are all worthy bowmen and skilled in knifework, and who will accompany the eight of you. I have seen evidence of the abilities of the Elves of Mirkwood and know that they will be worthy companions."
Despite Elrond's words Elladan thought that these small, pretty Elves looked nothing like warriors. He thought they looked nervous, although they seemed to be trying to hide it as they gave quick, formal nods to the group. Elrond continued. "I will have word sent back to Thranduil that the three of you will be joining the Elves that will be traveling into Arnor, so that he will not wonder what has become of you."
"Thank you, My Lord," spoke the tallest of the group of three Elves. His voice was soft and musical and everyone's attention was drawn immediately to him because of that and his delicate beauty. But Elladan's eyes were drawn to the smallest of the Elves from Mirkwood, whose hair was the colour of bronze and very long, falling to his backside in a thick braid worn down the middle of his back. Every strand of his hair was pulled tightly off of his face into that one braid, but Elladan could see that despite the severity of the style, this Elf's face was one of a soft beauty that made him look very young, too young perhaps for this journey. He found concern for this strange Elf creeping into his heart, even though he did not know the creature, and had no doubt of the Mirkwood Elf's prowess with bow and arrow and the long knives for which the Silvans were also famous. He sighed as he reluctantly pulled his gaze away from this unusual Elf in order to focus on his father's next words.
"You shall leave tomorrow as soon as the sun rises. Tonight we shall have a feast for all of you to be held here in the Hall of Fire around the great table, and from there you will retire to the barracks to rest before it is time to leave. He turned to his sons. "Elladan and Elrohir, would you please show our guests to the barracks where they can freshen themselves and put down their packs? Then please find out if any of them require anything further and arrange to have it taken to them. I want all of you to be comfortable and properly equipped for your journey. I am sorry that it has to be made in such haste, but I fear it is imperative that you leave in a timely manner." He turned to the three visitors. "Please do not hesitate to ask for anything that you may need. That is all. You may now follow my sons, who will direct you to your quarters."
Elladan and Elrohir led the contingent of Elves to their quarters in the main barracks and showed the three visitors where they could sleep and also where the pools were for bathing. Elladan noticed that the smallest Elf, Ilfrith, was sitting upon his pallet and had retrieved a small piece of parchment and a quill from his backpack. He took out a tiny vial of ink and began dipping the quill into it.
"What are you doing?" asked Elladan, his curiosity piqued by this strange Elf.
A flush rose on Ilfrith's face. "I am keeping a journal," he replied, his lashes fluttering as he gazed up at Elladan. His voice was small and whispery-soft, much like the rest of him.
One of the Imladris Elves burst into hearty laughter. "A journal!" he guffawed. "Is that all the little Mirkwood folk are good for? To write down what they see? Can they not wield a sword as well as they can wield a pen?" A few other large Noldorin Elves joined in the fun-making.
Elladan found himself feeling suddenly protective of the little Silvan, and stepped forward. "Now look here, Gilfanon –" he started to say, but he was cut off by the tallest of the Silvans, the one they called Penlod, who leapt suddenly between Gilfanon and Ilfrith, his blue eyes seeming to send darts through the back of Gilfanon, who was a full head taller than Penlod.
"Let us make sure of one thing from the start," hissed the Silvan. "We would appreciate if you would not speak ill or make jest of any of the three of us, and especially not of my brother."
Gilfanon, who had not meant any real harm, put up his hand in a gesture of apology. "I am sorry," he said. "I do not wish there to be any ill will between us, for our travels will be long and we should all work together and bond as if we are brothers."
"Well said, Gilfanon," said Elladan, relieved that the large warrior had backed down so eloquently. He agreed with his father's choice in picking the strongest and best possible Elf-warriors to accompany them on this mission, but he did not want their journey to be hampered by fighting among these chosen Elves.
Later that night, when they were all back in the barracks after a hearty dinner during which the food and the songs were plentiful, Ilfrith fell onto his pallet still fully dressed in his daytime clothes, deep exhaustion setting in upon him. He noticed through half-closed eyes that some of the other Elves had undressed completely and were walking around fully naked, although Penlod and Bethos had kept their clothes on as he had. He noticed that Elladan and Elrohir were not there. He averted his face from three nude Elves who were standing talking together at the foot of his pallet, closed his eyes and went right to sleep.
When he awoke at dawn, Ilfrith took his journal from under his pillow and read what he had written the night before.
ILFRITH'S JOURNAL – ENTRY #1
Our journey from Mirkwood Castle has been uneventful even though these are precarious times and we bore a sadly urgent missive from our king, Thranduil, for Lord Elrond of Rivendell. We crossed through the Misty Mountains by way of the High Pass and climbed safely down into the fair valley in the early morning, after having journeyed all night long. Single file, we entered the realm of Imladris leading our horses, the sunrise behind us, and the skies of the West still dark but peaceful-looking. How apocryphal this is when I think of the suffering that may have been endured by our Prince Legolas and his friend Aragorn of the Dúnedain who is also Lord Elrond's adopted son. They went into the north six months ago and have not returned.
As we approached the Last Homely House, my brother Penlod, our friend Bethos and I, passed many Elves of this realm who gave us curious stares. We stared right back at them as we continued on our path. They may try to challenge us but we will show them we are worthy warriors even though we may lack their stature. They are big Elves, these folk of Rivendell, with powerful bodies and fierce eyes. I noticed the musical sound of falling water and the sweet scent of roses and other flowers as we led our horses toward what we thought appeared to be the path to the stables. Three tall, dark-haired Elves came to meet us when we hesitated at a fork in the path. We were not sure where the stables were.
"Mae Govannen, Tawarwaith o Lasgalen," spoke one of these wardens for that is what I assumed them to be. I assumed also that they knew us to be from Mirkwood, once called the Greenwood, because of the blond color of our hair. We replied in turn and they kindly led us to the stables, where we left our mounts in capable hands. We explained that we were carrying an important message for Lord Elrond and were ushered courteously into the large dwelling where the lord and his family reside.
"Welcome, Thranduil's folk," the Lord of Imladris said to us kindly as we introduced ourselves and he bade us sit down upon comfortable chairs in front of a glowing fire that hissed and sparked in a large brazier in the centre of the room. "I am told that you bring news to me of some importance," he said.
My brother Penlod then rose and I could see that he was nervous. His hand shook slightly when he handed Lord Elrond the letter from our king. Penlod said nothing at first, but as Lord Elrond read it, I perused his face. I could see that he was very tall and ageless-looking, though I know that he has lived for many centuries. His hair was raven-dark and luxurious and very elaborately braided and arranged. A silver circlet was bound around his brow and his robes were silver and trimmed in dark blue. His eyes, when he looked at us, were clear grey and piercing. He was very handsome but his expression was one of great alarm as to be expected at the news he had just read.
Elrond's sons are identical twins. One of them, Elladan, I think, stares at me a lot. I wonder if he suspects my secret? I fervently hope that is not the case, for I do not wish for Thranduil to find out that I am here, and if my secret were to be discovered then I would be sent back to Mirkwood immediately, and that must not happen. Penlod and Bethos are my staunch friends and allies, who would do everything in their power to try to keep both my secret and myself safe from discovery. It is imperative that I not be found out until we are safely many miles away from here, when it will be too late for Thranduil to find me.
7
