Chapter 12
The first bread Daenerys tried to bake was an utter catastrophe. The second nearly so. The third was barely edible, with blackened crust but traces of fluffiness inside. From then on her baking skills improved noticeably, and within a fortnight the bread she baked was crispy and soft and delicious.
These first days at her new home passed without her even noticing it, for she was much preoccupied with everyday chores, struggling to establish a daily schedule and trying to find time to do everything. But gradually it all fell into place. She knew now how long the bread took to bake, and when she should start the fire in the morning, or when to begin preparing her food. Now that she knew the house and its corners, it took her less time to clean it and tidy it up. Every few days she would wash her clothes, and she never forgot to feed her horse as well. The dragons she took out of their cave one at a time, and they would hunt for their own food.
She had gotten used to the guards as well, and their twice-a-day change of shift. Twelve elves had been tasked with watching over her, and by now she knew their names. They always came and went in the same pairs, rotating through their shifts. They would not bother her through the day; they would simply bind their horses to posts near the guardhouse and they would patrol the area around her silently. She tried a couple of times to start up conversation with them, but they had been curt and brief in their words, indicating they had been discouraged to familiarize with her. The female guards were a little kinder, but the male ones barely even spared her a glance, and all of them always gazed at her dragons taking flight with abhorrence. After sparing a few efforts, she abandoned trying to make friends of the guards and returned to her solitude.
So far, no unfortunate happenstance had befallen her. The spring had just set in, and the snow-capped mountain peaks in the distance began to glisten under sunlight. Soon the first bold saplings sprouted through stone and ice, announcing the changing of seasons. But the air coming down from the mountains was still cold, for winter would not easily withdraw its icy grasp of the land. Still, the longer days and the first greenery filled Daenerys' heart with hope.
One of these morns, while she was readying the fire in the hearth, she heard galloping hooves approaching. Thranduil! Her heart sang, and she rushed to the door, eagerly peering into the distance. But it was not her King she saw. Two riders came trotting now into her yard, and they were female and clad in long, hooded cloaks. As soon as they dismounted and threw back their hoods, Daenerys immediately recognized them, and gingerly walked towards them.
"Luineth! Istuives! What a wonderful surprise!" she beamed, her smile bright as the sun.
The ellith smiled in return and opened their arms, inviting her into an embrace. "Daenerys, it so good to see you are faring well", Istuives said, her deep grey eyes examining the silver-haired girl's face closely.
"Mellon nín!" Luineth chimed. "Why, you look thinner to me!"
Daenerys laughed softly. "Perhaps the daily chores and my inexistent cooking skills are to blame. But come inside, I will make some tea for you."
She led them to the living room, and they sat upon the sofa, while the mother of dragons stepped into the kitchen and put the kettle to the fire. The elves glanced about her home, appreciating its cleanliness and orderliness. The fire was blazing in the hearth, and the room was warm and welcoming. Soon their hostess returned with cups of hot tea, slices of bread and butter, as well as a bowl of dried figs and plums.
"I wish I had more to offer you", she said as she placed everything on the table and took a seat in the armchair opposite them.
"It is a breakfast most delightful", Luineth said happily.
"We understand you live in no luxury here, so worry not yourself with such trivial issues. We elves care little for food, as long as we are in the company of a dear friend", Istuives said in her calm, wise voice.
"Thank you for your soothing words, Istuives. These first days of mine here have not been easy, and sometimes I seem to struggle with silly things. All my life I had been tended to by servants, and I know little of house chores, baking, cooking, cleaning… I am trying to figure it all out as it comes", Daenerys described, smiling weakly.
Luineth took a sip of the tea and plopped a plum in her mouth. "I would say you manage fine. Your house looks pristine, and this tea is wonderful."
Daenerys nodded. "I am glad you say so, and I am glad you came to visit me. Loneliness is a harsh companion, and I have missed you both so much. Often I reminisce about the time we spent together in the Elvenking's Halls. I miss our lessons especially, my lady Istuives. You taught me well. Had it not been for you, I would never be able to communicate with the elves", she spoke in gratitude.
"You have been a quick-learning pupil. Which reminds me", she said and retrieved a small parcel from her bag, "I brought these for you. I thought you might like to have something to read in the afternoon, to help the time pass."
She handed her two books, which were heavier than they seemed. Daenerys looked at the covers; one book contained poetry, while the other was a history of Oropher's House, narrated by Oropher himself. "Lord Oropher? Was he not our King's father?" she wondered.
"Indeed he was, and our King before him. I thought you might like to learn how our people came to be here, after lord Oropher led them from Doriath. I find his writing a little austere and military-like, but then so had always lord Oropher been. Still, the descriptions are vivid and up to point, and he provides a very detailed report of the events of those fateful days and the story of the royal family. He tries to be as objective as possible, too, which is admirable, and quite rare, when war is concerned", Istuives said. "And the other book will help you relax when you need it, with its poems and songs of our race", she added with a smile as an afterthought.
A book written by Thranduil's own father! Daenerys marveled. Thranduil has avoided speaking to me of these bygone years of his youth. Perhaps now I can peek into his past, and know him better. "You have my deepest thanks, my lady Istuives. This is a most wonderful gift!"
The grey-eyed elleth nodded with a soft smile. Then Luineth spoke up. "And I brought you this, Daenerys. Surely some more clothes would not be useless!"
She gave her a bag, and in it a velvet gown and an everyday cotton dress were neatly folded. Daenerys took them out and held them before her eyes. The dress was the color of peach, soft to the touch but sturdy enough. The gown was deep blue in color, adorned with silver thread along the neckline and the sleeves. Its skirt had flecks of silver embroidered into the fabric as well, so small and delicate that it made it look like the starlit night sky. "Oh, Luineth… I know not what to say. Thank you so much…" she whispered, deeply moved by her friends' care.
Luineth smiled. "Faelwen misses you, too. She wanted to send you a berry pie, but she feared it might grow stale over our journey here."
Daenerys smiled at the remembrance of the chief baker's exquisite pies. "I wish I could repay you your kindness."
Istuives lay a gentle hand on her arm. "One day you will, Daenerys. For a day may come – and sooner than we might think – when we will have need of your assistance. But this day is not today, and these gifts are not given to you with such anticipation. Take them, and whenever you read the books, or wear the dresses, remember your friends, for you are always in our fondest thoughts as well."
"You must know, Daenerys, we were not among those who wished you gone from our King's Halls", Luineth hastened to say.
"That is true. But it seems the council was adamant about it. Much as I tried to sway my brother's mind, he and his wife would not listen", Istuives added.
"Your brother?" Daenerys wondered, for she did not know her tutor had a brother in Thranduil's council.
"Orodlin and his wife Mídhiel are powerful councilors. Their opinions are often the collective opinion of the King's council, and he holds them in great esteem, for only seldom has their advice proved ill. But I do believe it is ill this time", she sighed, setting down her cup of tea.
Daenerys remembered her eavesdropping to Thranduil and his councilors discussing the issue of her presence, and she remembered those two elves' persistence that she should be exiled. Her face grew grim, and a frown descended upon her brow. "You are not responsible for your brother's thoughts", she told Istuives in a calm and collected manner. "I understand that the dragons are a terrible sight to most, even though they never harmed anyone, nor sought to."
"Dragons are servants of Morgoth in our world. Most of our people are unwilling to see beyond that, and they do not believe you come from a different world. They will hate your dragons even if they are innocent as lambs", Luineth told her.
"King Thranduil knew that, and that is why he gave his consent for your removal from his Halls", Istuives said. "But it was plain to see that he did it unwillingly. And he did not call for a council assemblage for days after the decision was made. I suspect he loathed to see my brother gloat over his victory", she commented with a bitter smile. "Orodlin is intelligent and sharp-witted, but he tends to be narrow-minded sometimes."
"If they had come to know you as we and the King did, the councilors would not be so swift to expel you", the blue-eyed elleth said wistfully.
"Would that they had. But most did not even wish to consider the notion", Istuives remarked.
"What is done now is done. I bear them no grudge", Daenerys said, gesturing in a dismissive manner. "But the King wants my allegiance in the war he says is to come, thinking that my dragons, once grown, might prove key to prevailing over the enemies. And I have pledged my allegiance to him, and I intend to keep my vow", she spoke in a resolved tone.
"Where are the dragons now?" Luineth wondered.
"In their cave, resting or playing with each other. Later in the day I will release one of them to fly and hunt. It is Rhaegal's turn today. And they have grown the size of a horse now. Would you like to see them?" Daenerys offered.
The elves looked at each other. They had not seen the dragons before, and some measure of apprehension crawled into their hearts. "Will it not be dangerous?" Istuives asked.
"Not when I am present", Daenerys replied.
Luineth then stood from her seat. "Take us to see them, then. I trust you."
Istuives slowly rose beside her. "I trust you as well."
Daenerys smiled brightly at them. "Come. I promise you the sight is unlike anything you have ever seen before."
She led the ellith through the tunnel and unlocked the door. The cavern was dark as they emerged into it, but no darkness could hide the three dragons from the elves' keen eyes.
"They are… huge!" Luineth exclaimed, standing still as a statue now.
Her voice prompted the dragons to turn their heads, and Drogon hissed menacingly, extending his neck towards the intruders. As soon as he bared his fangs, Istuives gripped Daenerys' arm in fear. "They do not look so friendly to me…" she muttered.
But Daenerys walked forth with a smile. "Drogon!" She called to the black dragon. "These are my friends. Do not frighten them", she spoke to him in a language the elves could not understand.
Drogon lowered his head and looked at the two ellith curiously. A bit of smoke came out of his nostrils as he snorted, and they stepped backwards in fear. But then he turned and crawled away disinterested. His brothers shrieked at him, and Viserion flapped his wings, which gleamed almost golden under the torchlight.
"They are… breathtaking", Luineth whispered, marveling at the pale dragon. "And so big!"
Daenerys laughed softly. "They are still children. Once grown, not even one of them will fit properly in this cave."
The elves looked around them, trying to imagine the size an adult dragon was. "They say Ancalagon the Black crushed the mighty towers of Thangorodrim with his fall. He was the mightiest and greatest dragon that has ever lived. Could these dragonlings here truly grow so large?" Istuives wondered, gazing at the dragons clawing at each other for sport.
"Smaug, the last dragon of Middle-Earth, was great of size, but nowhere near as large as Ancalagon was. He flew down from the north and took Erebor from the dwarves. There he resided in a cave, guarding his treasure, until Bard the Bowman slew him. Perhaps these dragons will grow to be like Smaug in size", Luineth said.
Daenerys listened to them, remembering the stories she had read in the library. "My dragons are different. As long as they feed and are free, they will grow." She walked up to Rhaegal and touched his neck. "Rhaegal, my child. Will you hunt for yourself and your brothers today?" she asked him in a low tone. The green dragon splayed his wings, and their underside glistened like bronze. "Good, good. I will release you now", she said, and went and unlocked the iron doors of the cave. The elves watched as the dragon crawled outside, and saw him taking to flight. It was a sight they would not easily forget.
Daenerys turned to her friends. "They are lighter than they seem, but for their size. All neck and tail and wings…" she said, gazing at the remaining two dragons with pride in her violet eyes.
"They are magnificent", Istuives acknowledged. "And they did not harm us. I will report that to my brother, once I am back in the Halls."
Daenerys shook her silver head. "Life here fits them better than life in the Elvenking's Halls. There they were confined, restless and angry all the time. Here, I can release them as often as I wish."
"But for you life here is much harder, Daenerys", Luineth told her kindly, touching her shoulder. "And we miss you."
And I miss you too. All of you, Daenerys wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut. She had to be strong. She should not allow sentiments to get the best of her now, much as she missed Thranduil. "A decision has been made, and I respect it", she only said.
"You are a proud woman, Daenerys", Istuives noted.
"I am the blood of the dragon, and of the line of Kings. Kings and dragons do not beg", she responded in a strong voice.
The tutor nodded, and then all three of them walked out of the dragons' cave and into the yard.
Daenerys invited the elves to spend the night there, and they gladly accepted, not wishing to ride home at night. Come the morning, they thanked her for the hospitality and the food she had offered them. Then they said their farewells and rode off.
Daenerys was once again left alone. Her friends' visit had been a nice intermission to her loneliness, but now it was over. With a sigh she returned to her room and glanced at Thranduil's books on the desk. She had already read half of the first tome, and, although it had been interesting, she had come across no useful information as of yet. What if I never find what I seek? What if I am fated to live in this world forever? She thought with dismay. Her eyes then fell to the book Istuives had gifted her, the one written by Oropher. She walked to the desk and took it in her hands. Its cover was dark green and the letters golden, and it looked well-preserved. "The House of Oropher…" she read aloud the title. She then flipped it open and skimmed through the pages. The former King's hand was elegant, yet austere. Thranduil has spoken to me little of his father, she pondered. Let us see what this book has to reveal.
With curiosity ignited in her mind, she took the book with her as she crept under the covers of her bed, and began reading under the ample sunlight that came through the balcony.
"Doriath, the greatest realm of the Sindar, was a realm of forests about the river Sirion", the book began. Daenerys kept reading. "… and Elu Thingol was the King of Doriath since its establishment and until his death. He was born in Cuiviénen during the Years of the Trees, and was then known as Elwë, the eldest of three brothers. His brothers were Olwë and Elmo, and he was also a good friend of Finwë, who was King of the Noldor. At that time there was friendship between the elven kindreds of the Noldor and the Sindar. The wife of Elu Thingol was Melian the Maia, and she was the one that placed the Girdle around Doriath, so that no one would enter without the King's leave. Of Thingol and Melian a daughter was born, and she was Lúthien Tinúviel, the fairest of the children of Ilúvatar."
"… I knew Thingol since the day he founded Doriath. Through the woods he emerged with his bride, and he was much changed, fairer and taller even than he was before. And it is true that Thingol was the tallest of all elves and men. His hair was had once been grey, but after he came with Melian it was purely silver, and starlight shone in his eyes. He was revered by all elves and hailed as the lord of Beleriand."
Daenerys lifted her eyes from the book. Thranduil does not seem very much unlike this King Elu Thingol, she pondered. Perhaps he admired him. She resumed reading.
"… when the light of the Two Trees still shone, Thingol, following his wife's advice, befriended the dwarves of Belegost. This friendship proved fruitful, for the dwarves helped the King build his great cavernous Hall, Menegroth. Menegroth was truly an underground fortress, and became the abode of Thingol and Melian. The river Esgalduin partially circled the hill in which Menegroth was carved, turning west at that point. The only entrance of the great Hall were gates high above the river, which at this place ran in a deep ravine, and a stone bridge spanned the distance between its banks. This stone palace became known as Menegroth, the Thousand Caves, because so many were the halls the dwarves had hewn out of the rock."
Not unlike Thranduil's own Halls, Daenerys thought, certain now that Thranduil had been a fond admirer of Thingol and his ways. The next pages Oropher had dedicated to the description of Thingol's court, and wrote of people as he had known them, but who were only names on a page to Daenerys. Reading through, she was eager to find passages that were related to Thranduil.
"… and I was granted a position in the King's council. By then I had made my intentions known to the parents of Inweth, and we were wed two years later. In the year 20 of the First Age, soon after Mereth Aderthad, we birthed a son. We named him Thranduil, for his laughter was as the waters of a vigorous spring." Daenerys could not but smile at this comment. A vigorous spring, so sweet and yet so vibrant a name, she thought. But then her gaze grew sad, for only rarely did she remember the Elvenking laugh. His years and his sorrows weigh now heavy upon his shoulders.
"… Thranduil insisted that he join the military, although his mother wished for him to become a minstrel. She loved peace, and cherished peaceful occupations above all. And she also liked the maiden Ningannel, who played the harp and sang and was a dear friend of our son's, and she indeed hoped that one day they might marry. But Thranduil wished not to take Ningannel to wife, and neither was he a lover of the harp; he would rather wield his sword. I did not object when he announced to me that he would join King Thingol's army…"
Daenerys had no doubt that Thranduil was not made for the song and harp. She could not imagine him sitting idly and playing songs. He was a warrior-king, and although he misliked conquering other lands, he was known to be a master strategist amongst his people. She had not seen him fight with a blade, but she was sure his skill would be superb.
And more she read of Oropher's book, and of his descriptions of events minor and major during his time in Doriath, and the hours flowed by like a running river. But when the light that came through the balcony turned warmer and dimmer, she realized that is was late afternoon, and she suddenly remembered her dragons. She sat up with a startle and thought, oh no! I have forgotten to go to them and let them hunt! And it is Drogo's turn today. He will be angry, my poor child. At once she jumped from the bed and rushed to the cave. The dragons shrieked and flapped their wings irritably when they saw her. "Forgive me, my sweetlings. But here I am now. Drogon! Come!" she called to the black dragon, and went and unlocked the door. He crawled impatiently outside, nearly knocking her down as he took to flight. He has grown audacious, Daenerys thought. But at least he is free to roam the woods now, and he will be pacified.
Her own stomach groaned then, and she remembered she had nothing to eat all day long, save for the breakfast she had shared with the ellith before they left. She walked to the kitchen and found some stale bread and butter. Being left with little choice, she cut two slices and took her meagre meal with her upstairs to her bedroom. There Oropher's book still awaited her. But the light had waned now, and she went to the desk and lit a couple of candles. There she sat, and read as she ate her food.
"… but my son had managed to become a favorite of King Thingol's. He had proved his valor countless times against the giant spiders of Ered Gorgoroth, always eager to lead campaigns. For oft would those hideous creatures, the spawn of Ungoliant, come down from the sheer precipices of the mountains and harass our northern borders… And all the springs were poisoned, and many a wanderer had lost their lives to the poisoned waters of the Gorgoroth…"
Spiders! Do not spiders infest this forest too? Daenerys remembered Thranduil talking to her about the evil creatures that lurked in the shadows, and she felt lucky she had not met any of them so far. Perhaps they have not discovered my home, she thought. Or perhaps the elven magic of old still lingers here, as it was an old elven abode…
"… time passed slowly by in Doriath, and we enjoyed peace and prosperity under Elu Thingol's rule for a long time. It is true that we were mostly separated from the outside world, protected by the Girdle of Melian as we were, and our King kept relations only with a selected few. He disliked the race of men, but with the dwarves of Nogrod he was friendly, until the events of the Nauglamír…"
"… and so the dwarves slew Thingol over the great prize that was Nauglamír, for neither would he pay them what they asked, and neither would they yield the necklace with the Silmaril set upon it. After Thingol's death his wife Melian abandoned Doriath, and the Girdle was lifted. She left Beleriand for Valinor, aggrieved by her beloved husband's passing. The dwarves of Nogrod sacked the city, and darkness fell upon fair Doriath…"
"… as Melian had foreshadowed. Undefended without the enchantment around it, Doriath was vulnerable to attack. And so came the sons of Fëanor with the Ñoldor, and slew King Dior Eluchîl when he refused to surrender the Silmaril. I remember the Second Kinslaying as the most horrible time of my life, for elf fought against elf, and we slaughtered each other upon the white marbles of Menegroth, instead of uniting against Morgoth, the common foe… The greatest evil it was, the kinslaying, and thereafter I cursed the Ñoldor, and never again wished I to know of them and their doings…"
But did Thranduil's wife not have some Ñoldorin blood, as I recall? Daenerys wondered. I can only imagine lord Oropher's objection, when his son brought his bride before him, she thought with a small smile.
"… we fled to Lindon. But then happened the events of the War of Wrath, for Eärendil the Mariner had voyaged to Valinor and begged the Valar for aid. There came the Host of Valinor, along with the Vanyar and Ñoldor, but most of our people did not join with them, for we were still embittered by the gruesome kinslayings. Finarfin led the Ñoldor, and Ingwë himself led the Vanyar. But a few of the Sindar liked Finarfin and remembered his kinship with Thingol through his marriage to Eärwen, who was Thingol's niece. And Finarfin had no part in the kinslayings, and ever remained in Aman, save for his march in the War of Wrath. Among those Sindar that chose to follow Finarfin against Morgoth was my son…"
Thranduil fought in the War of Wrath, so many ages ago, Daenerys marveled. Hastily she lit another candle, for the burning ones had almost reached the surface of the desk, and she resumed reading.
"… when they brought me my son, he was beyond recognition. Terrible fire-wounds bore he, and they covered half his body. His face was ruined, his left eye blinded, the flesh on his arm and leg nearly melted away. There are no words in the tongues of elves or men to describe the pain and horror that overwhelmed us, his mother and me, when we saw our son so close to death, breathless and destroyed. I cursed Morgoth and his spawn then, for it was his fire-breathing dragons, who had brought such disaster upon us. For countless nights our young Thranduil lay abed, and he would not wake, or speak, but neither slept he, for fever shook him and terrible nightmares haunted him. Healers came and went, and Inweth never left his side, praying to the Valar that one day our only son would wake. For neither of us was ready to pay a price so high for Morgoth's fall…"
"… and for all the years that followed Thranduil would be forever changed. Gone was his mirth and laughter, and he suddenly grew old and weary in heart. No consolation would he find in things that used to bring him joy before. And though his mother had taught him how to cover his deformities with magic, I knew that he always perceived himself as unsightly and horrid to look upon. He withdrew from social life, and devoted his long hours to perfecting his skill with the sword… He took up twin swords, and trained his senses to make up for his lost eye and his blind left side. Before dawn he would wake and begin to train, and only after dark would he return home to us, grim and unsmiling. And so his life went on in gloom and misery and military discipline, until one morn he happened upon the maiden Gilwen, who was a Sinda of Lindon, but had also some Ñoldorin blood. At first I was wrathful to know of her heritage, and the sight of her golden hair vexed me, but as I saw my son content and smiling again my ire faded, and I forgave her for the wrongdoings of her ancestors. For Thranduil had after long and through mustering all his courage at last revealed to her his injuries, for he believed he should not fool her, if she was truly meant to be his One. And Gilwen did not falter, nor did she look away, as our son told us. She raised her palm to his cheek and told him that she loved him still, and always would. And then Thranduil asked her to marry him, and she accepted. I would never refuse my only son his happiness, though it was meant to be with someone who hailed from the Ñoldor…"
A tear rolled down Daenerys' cheek. She closed the book and set it aside, and went to look out from her balcony. Such a heartbreaking story he has. To be wounded so horribly at such a young age… and to live endless years in self-loathing. Because this is what it was. He hated himself for being disfigured, and thought perhaps that he deserved not to be loved by someone as fair as Gilwen. And yet the great love he bore her urged him to trust her and open his heart to her.
Her mind traveled then to their exchange in the tent, all those days ago. He chose to open his heart to me as well. He trusts me. He yearns for me. A distant star flickered and fell high up in the sky, leaving a silver trail of stardust behind it. He loves me.