Chapter 28
It had been raining for the largest part of the last day of their journey. Dark clouds hung low in the sky, obscuring all light, and the rain battered the ground angrily. The path had turned into a muddy stream, and the mounts and carts treaded upon it with difficulty. Not few were the times when the elves had to stop and dismount, in order to push the wooden wheels free of the sticky mud. Drenched and dispirited, the Elvenking and his companions rode on slowly towards their destination.
But when at last by afternoon the golden trees of Lothlórien came into view in the distance, the rain ceased; the clouds dispersed, and a bright sun came through, illuminating the landscape with its light. The tall blades of grass were heavy with fresh droplets, and they glimmered like thousands of tiny diamonds, causing the vast plains to shine like a draping embroidered with white gems and silver thread. The waters of the Anduin to the west sang wildly as they rushed to meet the Celebrant, their course becoming more turbulent the farther south they got, for the confluence of the two rivers was now very close.
"How are we to cross? Is there a bridge, perhaps?" Daenerys asked Thranduil, as she looked ahead.
"No, there is no bridge to span the Anduin, save only for the bridges in Osgiliath, far to the south", he replied. "Had we not carts rolling along, we would have crossed the river at the Old Ford. But I feared the waters might be too deep there, after the winter and spring rains, and crossing would have been precarious. Freeing the wheels from the mud proved hard enough…" he said. "But the Galadhrim have outposts at the junction of the rivers, and white boats are harbored there. They will ferry us across."
And true enough, when the company reached the point where the Celebrant flowed into the Anduin, elven guards sprang from the trees, with their bows at the ready. They approached the riders cautiously, but as soon as they recognized the Elvenking, they put away their weapons and bowed deeply before him. One of them, who seemed to be their leader, spoke. "Welcome to Lórien, oh mighty King of the Woodland Realm."
"Rúmil, marchwarden of Lórien, long has it been since we last saw each other", Thranduil greeted him, inclining his head slightly. "How fare your brothers?"
The ellon rose to his feet, and his warriors mirrored his move. "They fare well, my lord. Orophin is posted to the north, and Haldir to the west. We make sure Lórien remains protected from intruders."
"Lórien need not fear intruders. The power of the Lady is upon the wood", Thranduil said.
"Yes, so it is. And our Lady is waiting for you, oh Elvenking. Be welcome in the Golden Wood, you and your companions", said Rúmil, glancing at Daenerys, who was standing behind Thranduil, together with the rest of their host. The look he gave her was one of curiosity, as he beheld her silver-white tresses and her violet eyes, but quickly he returned his gaze to the Elvenking, and said nothing more. And then he turned and led them upon a white path beneath the golden trees.
Soon they reached the riverbank, and there was a small dock with several boats of varying sizes tied to wooden poles. A few more elven guards stood there, dressed –like the ones in Rúmil's company – in the trademark garb of the Galadhrim: silver-grey cloaks over dark leather tunic and breeches. Daenerys noticed that there were a few female marchwardens amongst the male ones, and they wore the same attire as them. All the elves carried majestic longbows, which were larger and sturdier than the bows of Mirkwood, and daggers and shortswords were strapped on their belts.
"Here we are, my lord", Rúmil announced. "The boats are waiting to take you to the other side of the river, and into the heart of Lórien."
Thranduil gestured for his retinue to dismount. His elk, the horses and the carts were led onto the larger boats, while the elves boarded the more slender ones. He helped Daenerys aboard, holding her hand as she leapt from the dock into the boat. Rúmil came with them and took up an oar, alongside some other elves.
The crossing was none too easy, for the river current was strong, and the elves rowed hard against it. The Anduin was a wide river, and one shore could barely be seen when standing on the other. It took them about an hour to reach the western bank, and it was dusk now. The day was still warm, though a cool breeze blew over the river and carried humidity, which made Daenerys eager to step ashore.
At long last the boats reached the small harbor on the western bank of the Anduin. The travelers stepped onto the ground, and after their possessions had been unloaded and they had reclaimed their mounts, Rúmil led them through the woods once again.
Daenerys looked at the fabled mellyrn, as they now loomed above them. She had read about them in the lore-books, but to behold them was another thing entirely. Silver and smooth were their barks and tall and thick their trunks, and their boughs were somewhat upswept. Golden flowers blossomed upon their branches, and a golden carpet of fallen leaves lay upon the ground, for it was early summer. By late summer the flowers gave their place to the silvery nuts of the trees, and new leaves bloomed. Those were pale green on the upper side and silver on the other. In autumn they turned golden, and thus they remained during winter as well. And all through this cycle the wood shone bright like no other wood in Middle-Earth. Daenerys marveled at the sight around her, for a more magnificent forest she had never beheld. Lothlórien bore nothing of the gloom and darkness of Mirkwood; the air here was crisp and pure, carrying the scents of honey and flowers. A warm, golden light shone through the boughs and foliage, reaching the ground unhindered. Birds sang, and some fireflies appeared in the more shaded places, as the twilight of the day was almost gone now. Little animals scurried from shrub to shrub, foraging for food and nestling. And nowhere crept a suspicious shadow, nowhere hid a foul creature. Lothlórien was free of evil, and life bloomed unimpeded in it.
"What a breathtaking place", she whispered to Thranduil, as she rode close to him.
"Oh yes… No matter how many times I have visited Lórien, it never ceases to evoke awe in me", he agreed.
"I had imagined a beautiful forest, but I could never have conjured the true image of it in my mind. It shines and hums with life and elven magic", she commented, gazing around her insatiably.
"Indeed. The power of Galadriel is over this forest", he reminded her. "Do you now perhaps think you shall wish to stay here?" he asked her in a teasing tone.
Daenerys chuckled softly, remembering when he first told her of Lothlórien and its beauty, as well as his fear that she might wish to abandon him and settle there. "I am considering it", she replied in the same jesting tone.
They passed a large pavilion, as they now rode along the Celebrant. It was lit with lanterns, which emanated a soft light in the hues of turquoise and violet, and green ivy crept upon its intricate pillars. Smaller pavilions were around the large one. A small fountain stood in the center of the area, and some elves were gathered there, drinking wine, dancing and singing merrily. "Imlad Lalaith, this place is called", Rúmil told them. "And not unfittingly so, for it is often used for feasts and celebrations. It is the favorite place of the Galadhrim outside Caras Galadhon for singing and merry-making."
"And I remember you have some exceptional vineyards as well, if I am not mistaken", Thranduil said.
"Yes, my lord. The vineyards are to the south from where we are now. But it is still a tad too early for this year's grapes", the marchwarden answered.
"I will be content to taste the previous year's vintage, then", the Elvenking commented, eliciting laughter from those around him. His fondness for wine was well-known amongst the elves, and he minded not jesting upon it.
They came through a beautiful arched gate then, and tall lamps stood on both its sides. The elven path continued westwards, and similar lamps illuminated their way, as night was slowly falling. Soon the air was filled with the sounds of the night, and a calmness descended in the hearts of the elves. Daenerys, too, felt calm and protected there, as the wood itself embraced her with its peace and sense of undisrupted tranquility. It was almost as if it spoke to her… or did it really?
"Daenerys… Daenerys..." a voice called to her. She glanced about, trying to locate the source of the voice, but nothing was revealed.
"You need not search around you, for I speak in your thought", the voice spoke again.
"Who are you?" she asked mentally.
"I am Galadriel, the Lady of the Wood. And I am born of this world… but you are not. You are coming to us with hopes and questions in your heart", she said.
"You know me. How is that possible?"
"You tread in my forest, and my power is over it, protecting it and preserving it. I know all who walk underneath the trees, and far do I gaze, and much do I see", Galadriel replied somewhat cryptically.
Thranduil then saw her face, and noticed her frozen stare and furrowed brow. "She is speaking to you", he noted.
His voice startled her, and she gasped. "Galadriel, yes, she spoke to me. She knows me, Thranduil."
"She knows many things. Galadriel is the most powerful elf on Middle-Earth; her magic and knowledge is vast, and she is to be revered. Listen to what she tells you, and fear not. The Lady would never wish to intimidate you needlessly", he told her, and spurred his elk forth, allowing her some privacy.
"I know what is in your heart… I know your fears and desires. And they are noble. We elves have magic, but you have brought your own magic to this world. Meet me, and more we shall talk, and answers I may give you", Galadriel said, her voice fading into a whisper.
"Hannon le, hiril nín", Daenerys replied.
The sound of rustling leaves suddenly attracted everyone's attention, and they halted momentarily. Out of the bushes and onto the path jumped a great elk, sparkling white in color and with antlers huge and proud. He stared at the riders with curiosity in his large, grey eyes, and Thranduil's own elk bugled at him. The white elk answered in kind, raising his head only for a fleeting moment before vanishing into the woods.
"The Horned Wood-lord", said Rúmil. "It is a good omen that he appeared in our path."
"I have only seen him once before", commented Thranduil. "It was when I first brought my Queen to Lórien", he added, directing his gaze to Daenerys, looking back from over his shoulder. She caught his glance and understood his meaning, and a timid smile crept upon her lips.
"Oh, I remember Queen Gilwen well, my lord. So fair and noble. We had all been greatly distressed to learn of her passing", sighed the marchwarden. The Elvenking nodded in acknowledgement. "The Horned Wood-lord very rarely makes his presence known to us. He is such a lonely creature. But he is protected and well-loved by the Galadhrim. It is definitely a good sign that he chose to greet you, my lord King."
"Yes…"
Daenerys then brought her steed closer to Thranduil's, so that she could speak to him and not be overheard by others. "This silver-white elk reminds me of you."
He gave her a half-smile. "Does he now?"
She nodded. "Fair, majestic, and lonely…" Thranduil's smile faded, and sorrow clouded his gaze. She wanted to reach for him then, but knew she could not, for she was not aware whether or not their betrothal was known to the Galadhrim. "Is he immortal, I wonder? You said you saw him once, so very long ago…"
"Yes, he is a magical creature, unlike common elks. But he does take mates among the common ones, and from him comes a special, long-lived breed, to which my own mount belongs", he informed her, and gently patted Celairdir's neck. The elk snorted in appreciation. "These elks live for hundreds of years, and are taller, stronger, and more sentient than common ones. I can communicate with my Celairdir, and I have had him for so long now that he knows my habits well, and responds to my will before I even name it."
Daenerys smiled, and watched the intelligent elk's eyes, as he reacted to the call of his name with a toss of his proud head. Still, the parallels between Thranduil and the Horned Wood-lord were not lost on her. "And what if the white elk took a not-so-common mate?" she pointedly asked.
He gave her a wry glance and a matching grin. "Then miracles might ensue."
They locked eyes then; hers burned with their inner fire, and his shone like stars. I love you, he whispered to her in his mind, and yearned to tell her aloud. But he did not need to, for she knew what he thought and what he felt, and she slightly nodded, as if she was accepting his notion.
"My lord", Rúmil's voice interrupted their twining, "Here we come before the gates of Caras Galadhon", he told them with glimmering eyes.
And true enough, as they took the last turn of the stone-paved path, a grand bridge appeared before them, and beyond it was a high staircase. To the western side of the bridge were the stables, and some elves were there, and came forth to meet the King and his people.
"Welcome to Caras Galadhon, my lord of the Woodland Realm", said one of them, an elleth of fair face and slender build. "I am Rohiril, the stable-master. You may leave your mounts here. They will be taken good care of."
"You may continue on foot inside Caras Galadhon. Your possessions will be brought to you in the guest rooms", said another.
"Thank you", the Elvenking said, and proceeded to dismount and trust his elk in the care of the stable-master. Daenerys and the rest of his companions followed his example.
Rúmil then took them across the bridge. Below it was a deep moat that went around the city. After crossing the bridge they came upon the white stairs, and on the top rose the golden doors of Caras Galadhon. They were the only way in, as high rocks surrounded the city, covered in moss and ivy. "It is not unlike a fortress", Daenerys remarked, looking at the rocky wall and the ornate golden doors. Guards stood vigilantly before them, and they knelt as the King passed, placing their hands above the place of their hearts, signifying their welcome to him. Then they pushed the grand doors open, and the Mirkwood elves walked inside the fabled capital of Lothlórien.
White paths began there, leading to all directions, winding in-between the tall mellyrn, and lamps stood to illuminate the way, as the sky was now dark, and the stars shone. And upon the trees, which were so tall that their highest branches could not be seen from the ground, numerous flets were built, and intricate staircases went around the trunks of the greatest ones. Ladders of silver rope hang down from the lowest flets, and bridges spanned great distances far above, creating pathways for the city built in the trees. Daenerys observed the city of the Galadhrim in awe, wide-eyed and with her mouth agape.
"Do you remember how the wooden flets of Duimbar had impressed you? Well, what say you now, looking at Caras Galadhon?" Thranduil asked her, as they walked side by side.
"It is a unique sight… breathtaking. Nothing compares to it. Thank you for bringing me here", she replied breathlessly, and her gaze wandered to the canopied staircases, which were lit by countless lanterns, glimmering golden and silver in the dark. Elves walked upon them, their faces fair and their movements graceful, and gazed down at the passing company with interest. The sound of flowing waters then attracted her attention, and she asked Thranduil, "Is there a river her too?"
"No, not a river. It is the fountain before the home of Celeborn and Galadriel you hear. After the turn of the path we shall be there", he explained.
And so it was, and soon the great swan-fountain appeared in front of them. It consisted of a main pool, and smaller ones were on different levels. Twin swans formed the main frame of it, and they were made of white, blue-veined marble. Forth from their beaks spouted the water, cool and clear, and it ran below from pool to pool, gathering in the main one. And at the bottom began a small stream, which wound around the largest mallorn there was in Middle-Earth, and flowed to the northeast, to the Gardens of the Lady. Next to the fountain was the thickest tree-root Daenerys had ever seen, and into it wide stairs were carved, leading around the trunk and above.
"Behold, the house of lord Celeborn and lady Galadriel", Rúmil announced. "They are expecting you, so follow me up, if you please, my King."
Up they walked, and Thranduil touched Daenerys gently on the elbow, to provide her step with some security as they ascended the staircase, since there was no railing, as it was wont of the elves. The canopy was made of countless finely interwoven silver filaments, which created a delicate and almost weightless net, supported on successive arches. Lanterns hang here and there, lighting the way as the company went. The first boughs of the tree came into view, and the heady aroma of the golden flowers of the tree invaded Daenerys' senses. So strong was its effect that she had to grasp Thranduil's arm tightly in order to keep her balance. Worried, he turned to her. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yes, I think. The scent of the tree is so strong… intoxicating. No blossom should give off such an aroma. It is addictive", she answered, and breathed in the air deeply.
He chuckled softly. "The mellyrn only grew in Aman and Númenor, until Galadriel brought the seeds to Lórien. Nothing about this place is ordinary. And it is not easy to get used to it."
"You had told me your world is home to countless marvelous places, but such beauty I could never have imagined."
"Wait until you see the Lady…" he murmured, his grin widening.
Yet farther up they walked, and several telain came into view, built on strong branches. Elven archers stood on some, still and grim in their duty, and they wore hooded grey cloaks. Benches and chairs and small tables were on others. Elves of the Lord's household went about their business, and the ascending company came across descending elves a few times. At last they reached the top of the grand staircase, and they came upon a wide construct of several telain, which formed something like an audience plateau. To the back of it a beautiful elven home was built, with tall arches and white stars in the front. Guards stood by the stairs of the house, forming a semi-circle on the far side of the plateau. They had longbows and quivers hanging from their shoulders and held slender spears. Motionless they were, but as soon as the Elvenking and his retinue stepped on the wide talan, they thumped the butts of their spears once on the wooden floor and inclined their heads.
Thranduil came to stand in the middle of the plateau, and all the others waited a little to the back. Rúmil walked to the side and waited for the Lord and Lady to appear, so that he might introduce the guests. And true enough, the white gates of the house opened, and Galadriel with Celeborn came through. Clad in white they were, and the Lady was no less tall than the Lord. They joined hands as they gracefully stepped on the stairs and stopped midway down, so that they might gaze upon their guests from an elevated position. Daenerys looked at their faces in awe. Celeborn was handsome, with upturned eyebrows and deep grey eyes, but he looked stern and somewhat inapproachable, somewhat resembling Thranduil in his demeanor. But though he was a Sinda and older than the Elvenking and shared some traits with him, like the silver hair and the grand stature, he lacked his piercing gaze and his engaging smile.
Galadriel caused Daenerys to hold her breath. How was such beauty ever possible? Hair long and silver-golden, even fairer than the legend had it; eyes blue and vibrant, shimmering with the light of a thousand stars, and deep with the memory of countless ages past. Her face was sweet and serene, and yet she exuded an aura of power and superiority. Both the Lord and Lady glowed, like all elves did, but hers was a glow of pure white, dimming all other light around her. And when she turned her perceptive gaze to her and looked intensely into her eyes, the mother of dragons shivered and gasped.
"Le suilon, Thranduil Oropherion, Aran Eryn Galen. Le nathlam hí", spoke Celeborn in a deep, even tone, and lifted his hand in greeting.
"Mae l'ovannen Celeborn, mellonen vrûn", answered Thranduil, lightly bowing his head before Celeborn.
"Avgennin anann chen, Thranduil… Ach nanithach maetolo sí uireb."
"Hannon le, Celeborn."
Then the lord turned his attention to the Elvenking's company. "Suilannon allen", he said, and the hint of a smile played upon his lips.
It was Galadriel's turn to speak then. "Long have we known each other, Elvenking, but only seldom do our paths cross. And yet you have chosen to visit us now, for your heart is changed…"
Her voice filled the air, silencing all other sounds. Daenerys hearkened to it, and it was the same voice that had spoken in her mind, only now it ringed clear and vibrant, melodious and commanding at the same time.
"Yes, my lady Galadriel. It is as I wrote in the letter I sent you", Thranduil said. Then he turned and extended his arm towards Daenerys, prompting her to walk forth and stand beside him. She did, and bowed in reverence before the Lady. "This is Daenerys Targaryen, of whom I spoke to you in the letter. She is to be my Queen", he presented her proudly.
Celeborn lifted an eyebrow, but remained expressionless otherwise. Galadriel smiled and her eyes danced. "The mother of dragons… An extraordinary choice. But then you have never been ordinary, Thranduil", she told him, but her eyes were on Daenerys, examining her. She noticed her violet eyes and the dragon-circlet on her silver-white tresses. For Daenerys had worn it, on Thranduil's insistence. He had wished for her to show her station now and be unafraid to declare to the people who she was. "Welcome to the land of the Galadhrim, Daenerys. Here your sorrows will be lifted, and your heart may find rest from its toil."
"Hannon le, hiril vuin", Daenerys answered.
"Rest now, for it is dark, and you have traveled long. Again we shall speak on the morrow, and a great feast will be held in your honor."
With that Galadriel withdrew into the house, and her husband followed her. Servants came and led the Elvenking and his people to the guest rooms, which were located to the northern part of Caras Galadhon. On top of a low hill was a rather secluded grove of mellyrn, and upon them guest rooms were built. They reminded Daenerys a little of the flet-inn of Duimbar, with their ladders and bridges and round, wooden rooms, but these were grander, ornate, and far more spacious. The King and his betrothed were given the largest suite, which was not unlike a small house high above the ground, built around the thick trunk of the greatest tree of the clump. There was a living room with a sofa, two armchairs, a round table and a small bookcase, and next to it a bathroom, with a wide tub and a few stools and benches. But the largest room was the bedroom; the bed was canopied, and white lace curtains hang like veils from the four posters. Golden ribbons held them tied together. A desk was on one side and a set of chairs and a trestle table was on the other. Against the wooden wall stood a wardrobe and a cabinet with jugs, plates and glasses inside. On the floor lay a silken carpet of pale rose color, the embroidery and trimming of which was golden.
The servants brought and put in order the pair's belongings, and then left. Daenerys slid out of her cloak and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress was delightfully soft. Thranduil took his time ridding himself of his garments, shedding them one by one. She watched him as he did that, and his expression of relief as he at last was free of his constricting royal attire amused her. "Too much is expected of a King, even to be dressed in a certain manner", he grumbled, tossing his boots aside. Draping a loose robe about his shoulders, he came to sit beside her. "And soon it will be expected of my Queen, too", he told her pointedly.
She laughed softly. "We still have some time until that becomes a reality. If you took me to Lothlórien for our engagement, where will you take me for our honeymoon, I wonder?" she asked him with a glint of mirth in her eyes.
Perhaps to some place neither of us dreams of.
He lay back in the bed, crossing his arms under his head. His eyes examined the intricate lace cloth above him. "Lórien is the heart of the elvendom. No place can match its beauty and majesty. But more we can travel, and places we can see… When the time for our honeymoon comes, we shall see where to go."
It sounded to her that his voice bore a hint of sorrow, or uncertainty. She lay beside him, propping her weight on one elbow, and tenderly touched his cheek. He turned his head and looked into her eyes. She studied his expression, and found that even in his joy, there was always a sense of sorrow about Thranduil. She attributed it to his long life and grief he had endured over the endless years, and chose not to question him about it. She had gotten used to it by now, and did not want to rouse sad memories in him. Instead she leaned close and kissed him. "I will go wherever you take me, my love."
He cupped her cheek and kissed her back. "All I do, I do with the thought of your happiness", he whispered to her. "I know your heart, I know what it desires… and I will give it to you, my love." He drew her to him and kissed her again, deeply and languidly this time. She gave in to him, and sighed in his embrace, and for a few long moments they only kissed and touched, relishing each other's presence.
"Do you think the Lady liked me?" she asked him.
"I saw how she looked at you, with interest and curiosity. You pose a riddle to her, Daenerys, as a riddle you were to me. You still are, to some extent. But I do not see why she should not like you", he replied.
"What did you tell her of me in your letter?"
He sat up, and she followed him. "I told her the truth about you, that you come of a different world, and possess three large, fire-breathing dragons. I told her you are an ally, and how you have helped us. I also told her that you hold my heart, and that I intend to marry you. In her letter of reply Galadriel expressed her surprise to learn of my news, but she took to it kindly, and spoke of her desire to meet the mother of dragons. And here we are, my love, and the two most mysterious females on Middle-Earth are acquainted with each other. What did you think of the Lady?"
"She is magnificent…" Daenerys said. "I do not think there exists a single word to describe her majesty. All elves are beautiful and ethereal, but she far more so than the rest. Her gaze is deep and wise, her voice soothing and chilling at the same time. And her light, so pure and all-encompassing… I do not think one would meet her and not feel humbled before her, as you told me. You were right, but I did not know what exactly to anticipate. The reality far exceeded my expectations."
Thranduil took her hand and gently rubbed her knuckles. "She always has that effect."
"And Celeborn... I remember reading about him in lord Oropher's book. But to see him now with my own eyes…" She shook her head. "I will never truly comprehend your long life, your immortality. When it comes to humans you may see several Kings rise and fall in the span of a century, but you elves are constant, enduring through the millennia."
"Yes, my love. Our races are different, and so is our purpose. The elves are wise guides, masters of the lore and keepers of deep knowledge. But one day the men will inherit the earth, for that is their destiny. We aid them and show them in the right direction, but ultimately we will fade from the world", he said.
"Does this thought not depress you, Thranduil? To know that sooner or later your realm will be gone, your people will sail or fade, and your works will be lost?" she asked him and gave him a look of concern.
"It does sadden me, but I have accepted my fate, and the fate of elvenkind. In the First Age we shaped the fates of Arda; in the Second we struggled yet again, but saw our realms flourish. In the Third Age our places still stand strong, but they have begun to fade. Our power and magic diminishes, and we are but faint reflections of the majestic elves, who walked this earth when it was young. Manwë and Thingol, Lúthien, Daeron, Beleg, Círdan, Elwing and Eärendil… and even the accursed Fëanor, whose deeds altered the history forever… and his brothers Finarfin and Fingolfin, and their sons… and so many more, Daenerys. Those were elves who warred against Morgoth himself, and struck down his balrogs and dragons. The elves of today can never hope to compare to them", he finished his account.
"It is with calmness and dignity that you say this", she noted.
"What point is there to deny the truth?" he argued. "We are lesser than those who came before us, and our fate it to fade."
He stood then from the bed, and made to step into the adjoining room, which was the bathroom. "I shall have a bath before I lie to sleep. Would you care to join me?" he invited her.
She sprang to her feet. "With pleasure." She went to his side, and untied the cord of his robe. It fell to the floor, and he stepped out of it. She removed her gown as well, exposing her naked form to his eyes. "Tomorrow will be a brand new day. And even if this fate you spoke of is truly to come some day, that day is still quite far off." And she went to him and put her arms around him.
He held her to his breast and sighed, breathing deep her scent. If it is to truly come some day...
Translations
Hannon le, hiril nín = Thank you, my lady (Sindarin)
Le suilon, Thranduil Oropherion, Aran Eryn Galen. Le nathlam hí = I greet you, Thranduil Oropherion, King of the Greenwood. You are welcome here (Sindarin)
Mae l'ovannen Celeborn, mellonen vrûn = Well met Celeborn, my old friend (Sindarin)
Avgennin anann chen, Thranduil… Ach nanithach maetolo sí uireb = I have not seen you for a long time, Thranduil… But you will always be welcome here (Sindarin)
Suilannon allen = I give greetings to everyone (Sindarin)