Chapter 29

The feast in honor of the Elvenking was held in the pavilions of Imlad Lalaith. They were exquisitely decorated, with thin, transparent veils hanging from their arches, and ornate silver lanterns providing the place with their soft glow. For the feast began by the evenfall, just as the first stars of the night appeared in the sky glimmering. In the largest pavilion were the high chairs of the Lord and Lady, and in them sat Celeborn and Galadriel. The Sinda wore silken robes of grey-blue, and his pale hair was finely braided on the sides of his head. His expression was gentle and solemn, and a faint smile graced his features every now and then. But Galadriel beside him shone like a star, and her white radiance eclipsed all other light around her. She wore a long-sleeved gown of the purest white, and a silver shawl was draped on her slender shoulders. Her golden hair she had loose, but tiny white flowers adorned her noble temples. Both the hosts wore fine circlets of interwoven silver and golden strands, and the Lady's hand was lightly resting upon the Lord's as they sat in their chairs. To Daenerys they seemed like some kind of gods, so imposing and regal in their manner, stern and yet gentle, with a perfection about them that was almost intangible.

She, the mother of dragons, was no less in terms of beauty. She wore a pale blue silken gown that sheened silver when the light reflected upon it. The neckline was low, baring her round shoulders, but the sleeves were long and dagged, and reached to the ground, when her arms were resting at her sides. Fine silver rings in the likeness of dragon tails kept the sleeves at place just above her elbows, and around her waist she wore a silver chain belt. Her hair was done in braids on the back of her head, one diving into the next in an intricate manner, and at the nape of her neck they opened into loose silver curls that reached to the small of her back. Upon her head lay the dragon-crown Thranduil had gifted her, and the gems in the dragons' eyes glowed as if with a light of their own. And beneath them Daenerys' own violet eyes shone like amethyst jewels, and she wore the sweetest smile upon her beautiful face.

She was seated beside the Elvenking, and both of them held the places of honor next to the Lord and Lady. But Thranduil wore a surcoat of black, contrary to the rest, who had chosen pale colors for their attire. Fine silver details adorned the trim, and a silver broach in the shape of a small yew twig clasped the lapels together. On his head he wore not his spring crown of flowers, but only a simple silver circlet, for his seasonal crowns he only wore when in his own kingdom. He sat with his back straight and poised, and his hair flowed down his back plain and unbraided, as always. His brow was set and his gaze steady. He held his chin slightly up, in that manner of superiority that characterized him – but not necessarily meant he looked down upon the others; in this case, it would be folly to do so – and the corners of his well-defined lips were a little downturned, forming a permanent frown, as it was wont of him. He exuded an aura of confidence and constancy, but Daenerys knew he simply did not wish to seem lesser, when compared to Galadriel and Celeborn. Being inferior to others was something that Thranduil loathed, and even though he would not confess it aloud, she knew him well enough by now to be able to realize the root of his stance tonight. And, having read Oropher's book, she had understood that even though his father had been quite willing to mingle with the Silvan elves and adopt their lifestyle, Thranduil was more resistant to it, and held to the Sindarin values more firmly.

Lord Celeborn signaled for the festivities to commence by standing and delivering a speech, in which he spoke words of warm welcome to the Elvenking and his betrothed. As soon as the latter piece of information was announced, the gathered Galadhrim burst into cheer and applause. Some of the elves looked upon Thranduil and his fiancée with wonderment and even disbelief, but the majority was overjoyed to learn that his long days of loneliness were finally over. For his past and his tragic losses were well- known to the elves of the neighboring realm, and who would wish for the noble King to remain alone and loveless for the rest of his immortal life?

Next took place the exchange of gifts. Thranduil gave Celeborn a scepter made of mithril, with silver and gold inlay, and a head encrusted with aquamarine stones. "A scepter fit for a King", he told him, "for you are a King in all but name." And to Galadriel he gave a small square box. With a smile and inquisitive eyes she looked at it, and he said to her, "Open it, my Lady, for inside it you will find the last acorn of Hírilorn, the great beech-tree that grew in Menegroth, and housed even Lúthien for a time. My mother took some of its acorns with her when we fled Doriath after its destruction, and long had she kept them; but this is the only one that yet remains, and is precious beyond reckoning. May it take root and sprout under your care." And Galadriel thanked him deeply, for this was a most unique gift. Then the Lord and Lady gave Thranduil their gifts. From Celeborn he received a longsword, a two-handed magnificent weapon with a gilded hilt. Upon it its name was carved in the flowing elven script: Aradhel, the Royal Terror. Thranduil smiled and thanked him, for he loved swords well, and he liked the name of this blade even better. And Galadriel gifted him with a book, a leather-bound ancient tome that bore golden clasps across its spine, and a golden chain and lock kept it safely closed. "This belonged to Melian the Maia. I was her friend for a time, as you remember, and much of her wisdom she imparted upon me. Take the book, for its content you may find very useful in the future", she said, as she passed him the key as well. The Elvenking grasped the book with reverence, and gazed wide-eyed upon its golden letters. Could it perhaps hide a different answer to our question? "Thank you, my lady. Your gifts are most precious", he told her, and Galadriel nodded with a knowing smile. Then Daenerys stood and said, "I am not of this world, and I own nothing that I could give you as gifts to hold. But I own something far more special: three young dragons, and my gift to you is an invitation to come and gaze upon them, and also the vow to aid you in your wars against the Shadow." Both the Lord and Lady were pleased with Daenerys' words, and gladly accepted the invitation. Then Celeborn came forth and presented her with a flower-shaped golden ring, as well as a slender, curved sword. Silver was its hilt and rubies were laid around it. She took it in her hand and was surprised by its weightlessness. "The ring is to remind you of your visit to the land of the mellyrn, for after their flower this ring is shaped. Dílloth is its name. May you gaze upon it when your heart is in disquiet, and reminisce on the peaceful days you spent in Lórien. And may the sword protect you from peril. But it is not a regular sword; it is an elven blade, and it can tell friend from foe. Luminous it will be when you are in the safe companionship of friends, but it will grow dark when you are approached by foes. Lagorúth it is called. May your gifts serve you well, Daenerys, for dark days are coming." He receded then, and his wife stepped forth. She gave her an elven cloak, and Daenerys looked at it with puzzlement, for it looked rather plain, as it was grey and unadorned. But the Lady smiled and said, "This is a cloak of the Galadhrim. It can protect you against evil eyes, and conceal you, when you wish to remain unseen by the Enemy. And also three coils of elven rope I give you. It is unlike common rope, for evil creatures cannot stand its touch, and it is unbreakable. Keep these gifts and use them wisely, and may they serve you well in your quests."

After the gifts had been exchanged, the minstrels around the fountain began to play their harps, lutes and flutes, and sing elven songs of the times of yore. The music of the elves mingled with the music of the flowing waters of the Celebrant, which flowed just to the south of Imlad Lalaith, and in the silence of the night it could be clearly heard. The revelers danced, and all around them was the soft light of the lanterns, and the scent of flowers was in the wind. And high above in the sky glimmered the silver stars, for the night was clear and cloudless, and their light reached the ground unobstructed. And a young moon accompanied them, lending its gentle glow to the face of the earth.

The hosts and their honored guests relaxed in this merry atmosphere, and chatted mirthfully, whilst enjoying the fine wine of the vineyards of Lórien, and tasting the delicacies the cooks had prepared. And while the Elvenking mostly engaged in conversation with Celeborn during the feast, reminiscing about the elder days, when they lived in fair Doriath, and sharing thoughts about Elu Thingol's reign and his choices, which ultimately led to his downfall, Daenerys was approached by the Lady of the Wood, and with kind, smiling eyes she spoke to her.

"Rarely does an elf love for a second time", she noted.

"I know that, my lady. Thranduil has told me so several times. But, although rare, it is not impossible", she answered.

"Not impossible indeed." She peered deep into her eyes, and her azure orbs of vast knowledge made her shiver. "Are you gentle of heart, and true of purpose, Daenerys?"

She took a short moment to ponder the question. "I am imperfect", she began, and Galadriel quirked an elegant eyebrow, her interest picked. "If you ask me if I love Thranduil, then the answer is yes, with all my heart I do. But gentle of heart? I cannot say yes to that wholeheartedly. For I would seek revenge upon anyone who would wish to harm me or those I love, and I would smite my enemies before they destroyed what I hold dear. I do not think that makes me gentle of heart, my lady."

Her voice rang clear and vibrant, and Galadriel smiled at her sincerity and openness. "You answer truthfully. You do not seek to lie and deceive", she observed, her voice light and melodious as she spoke the words.

"I detest liars", she said.

"And your purpose?" the Lady reminded her of the second leg of her question.

"I had no purpose here at first. I was only an outlander, striving to survive in this strange place. I was regarded with fear and suspicion, for my hair is white and my eyes are purple… and I also have three dragons, who keep growing. From my very first moment in Middle-Earth it was made clear to me that dragons here are considered evil, an abomination, the spawn of Morgoth, as Thranduil had at first called them. It took me much time to convince his people that this is not the case with my dragons. And only after I had proven my honesty and my loyalty did the voices of suspicion cease to whisper. But Thranduil quickly saw that I was not lying, and supported me every step of the way, even back when I was nothing but a stranger to him." She made a pause here and took a breath. "You ask me of my purpose, my lady. All I wished for was to go back to my world and reclaim what is mine… and long I searched for a way, but the only answer I found was dark and odious. As my dreams of returning to my homeland faded, I chose to devote myself to the one I came to love, and his purposes became mine. I pledged him not only my love but also my allegiance in the coming war against the Shadow. At first he had asked of my aid in exchange for his help towards finding a way out of here for me, once the war was over… but in the end I offered it to him willingly, out of love and out of recognition that his cause is just. No darkness should ever be allowed to touch these fair lands. And if I am to live all my life here, I will strive with all my might to see them preserved, and the Dark Lord overthrown. My dragons and I are committed to this noble purpose, my Lady", Daenerys concluded her monologue.

All the while, the Lady of the Wood had been watching her with unwavering attention. She paid heed to every word she spoke, and in the end she gave her a nod and a smile. "I knew your heart from the moment you stepped foot in my woods. It is true that you love the Elvenking, and that you have aligned your wishes with his. But there is a deeper desire in your heart, Daenerys… The desire to conquer new worlds, to bring peace and justice to all. Am I wrong?" she asked her, her captivating eyes never leaving hers.

Daenerys' brow flickered, her gaze faltered, and she fidgeted with her silver chain. "I am not discontented. It would be preposterous of me to say so. Here I have found a new home, acceptance, and even love", she claimed. A sigh followed her words. "But… I will not deny it. It is true that the desire to conquer Westeros, which is my home, has not died in my heart. It sizzles like an ember in slumber, but every now and then it awakes and lights a fire in my heart, which I sometimes find difficult to quench. And sometimes I dream dreams of war and conquest; I dream of the Narrow Sea and my dragons flying over it; I dream of my enemies burning; and I dream of the Iron Throne, the seat of my ancestors, the seat of the rightful ruler. And when such dreams come, my heart will be in unrest for hours on end, sometimes even days. Only Thranduil can calm me then, with his soothing embrace and his promise that one day he will give me what I desire… But I think these to be mere words of consolation, and empty of any real meaning."

"Empty have never been the words of the Elvenking", she remarked, and gave Daenerys one of her enigmatic smiles.

The young woman's lips then parted in bewilderment, but the Lady refused to elaborate. "It is not mine to speak of the thoughts of others", she only said. "I can only tell you this: be true of heart and steady in your cause, and the future might surprise you."

Daenerys glanced at Thranduil. He was listening to something lord Celeborn was telling him, and seemed engaged in their conversation. His brow was ever so lightly furrowed, and his eyes downcast. How does he mean to help me, since the only known way to leave a world for another is a dark one? And, if there was another way, would he not have told me already? Together we searched in all the lore-books, and have found nothing… There is only the accursed scroll of Sauron with the black spell… No, if there was another way and he knew it, he would have told me, she decided.

And then suddenly she remembered Galadriel's legendary mirror. She swirled her wine in the glass nervously, and pondered her words before uttering them. "My lady, you spoke of the future, and how it may surprise me. But I have dreams as I told you, which are more like visions of the future. Those dreams are not clear, and they may be symbolic… I wonder if you could help me. I have heard you have a magical mirror that shows what may come to pass."

Galadriel looked at her intently. "I have the mirror, yes… And you wish to look in it." Daenerys nodded. "But I warn you: the mirror shows many things, and not all of them may come to pass. What you see in it may perplex you further."

"But it might also help me understand my future. I wish to look, my lady. I am not afraid to look into my future", she stated fervently.

"Such bold words, coming from one so young. It is remarkable how often youth and boldness coincide…" she reflected. "Still, I will allow you to look into the mirror. But not today, and perhaps not even tomorrow. I ask you to think of it carefully, and come to me only when you are truly ready."

Daenerys found the terms acceptable. "I will think about it, my lady. This I promise you. I will not be rash in my decision, and if my heart falters, I will not seek its revelations." But deep in her heart she was certain that she did wish to look in the mirror, and nothing could sway her from her persuasion.

"Very well", answered the perceptive Lady of Light.

Then she leaned towards her husband and whispered something in his ear. Celeborn nodded, and stood. "In honor of our guests, the Elvenking and his betrothed, Daenerys Targaryen, we have planned a boat ride in the Celebrant. Let us sail on the silken waters of the river and gaze upon the Golden Wood's night majesty."

After his announcement elves came to escort the two royal couples down to the dock. There a great decorated white boat awaited, and golden and silver chairs had been placed in them for the Lord and Lady, as well as Thranduil and Daenerys to sit. As they took their seats, some of the Galadhrim took up the oars, four on each side of the boat, and it smoothly slid on the silent waves of the river. Upstream they went, but the waters were not turbulent in this part of the river, as it flowed deep and unobstructed, with only a few wide-angle curves along its course.

"We shall sail up to the point where the Nimrodel meets the Celebrant. There is a small waterfall there, and the boats cannot sail farther upstream. Which is a pity, because it would be a delightful sight if you could see the wonder of Nen Cenedril, as the starlight reflects upon its surface", said Celeborn.

"But you could venture there one of these days, during your stay in Lothlórien", Galadriel suggested.

"Where is this lake, my lady?" Daenerys wondered.

"It is far to the western border of the wood. It is the source of the river Celebrant… and the eastern gates of Moria lie close as well. The great mountain walls overlook the lake", she replied.

"Ah, the Mirrormere… It is a beautiful sight, I promise you", Celeborn interjected. "Never before will you have seen the stars so vividly shining on waves", he said with a small smile.

"I have not beheld the Mirrormere for a very long time now", Thranduil mused.

"Then we must see it", Daenerys decided, and her lover nodded, looking at her fondly.

Galadriel observed the loving glances the Elvenking and his betrothed exchanged, and how tenderly their hands joined, as they sat side by side. Their love is true indeed, she thought. Remarkable how a human child from a different world has managed to captured the heart of the Elvenking, which many had considered frozen over the countless eons after Gilwen's death… The Lady peered deep into her violet eyes, examining the mind behind them. It is not only the undeniable beauty of the form that has won his affection; Thranduil has never been so shallow as to be swayed by a sweet face and a lithe body. She possesses other qualities, far more important than beauty. She has the heart of a mother but the mind of a leader. She is capable of great tenderness and unconditional love, but also of vengeance. Her stark contrasts have mystified him. Daenerys is nothing like Gilwen. The Elvenqueen was sweet and gentle, soft-spoken and ethereal like the morning dew. She was a warrior, but a reluctant one. Thranduil loved her not for her prowess in battle or her leadership skills, but for her ability to soothe his anger and calm his heart. The Dragonqueen is like tempered steel: strong and sharp, though delicate and fragile she might look. There is fire in her eyes, and her spirit is fire itself. Her intelligent eyes then turned to Thranduil. He was gazing upon the distant stars, so clearly now shining in the cloudless sky. Oh, Thranduil, not few have been your woes. Still, the gentleness of your heart is not lost. But who knew that ice could love fire? Sometimes life itself proves even the wisest foolish…

Soundless glided the white boat over the waves, and the elves rowed her towards the west. The mellyrn rose tall and majestic upon the riverbanks, and under the starlight they shone silver and golden, their barks and flowers reflecting the light. Daenerys took in the otherworldly scenery around her wide-eyed, enchanted by the beauty of the Golden Wood at night. Intoxicating scents filled the air, and the song of crickets and owls reached her ears. It was a peaceful atmosphere, and Daenerys leaned on the shoulder of her beloved, feeling relaxed, all her worries pacified for now. The light breeze was in her hair and on her face, and she inhaled it deeply, allowing it to fill her lungs and revive her.

"The magic of the elves is very strong in Lórien", Thranduil whispered in her ear. "The power of the Lady watches over the ancient woods. I can feel it in the air, potent spells of protection woven around the borders, so deep and vibrant that they put a tingle in my fingers… Like whispers in the wind they are, and songs in the waves; the wisp of a flame, the passing of a cloud, the fall of a leaf, the blossoming of a flower – everything bears her touch, her power, her magnificence. Lórien would not be what it is without Galadriel, and Galadriel would not have been able to nourish and protect it so well without Nenya."

And Galadriel looked at the pair with a cryptic smile and a glint flashed in her azure eyes. Lifting her gentle hand, something shone on her finger. Like a star it seemed to Daenerys, and she looked at it in awe, but soon the shape of a silver ring appeared. She did not remember seeing any ring upon the Lady's fingers before.

"Behold the light; it is Nenya, the Ring of Adamant, and I am its keeper. An unbreakable ring that I possess since time immemorial, when Celebrimbor entrusted it to me. Its power is to preserve and protect", Galadriel told her.

Daenerys remembered reading about the lore of the Rings of Power in the library. Nenya was one of the three elven rings, made by Celebrimbor in the Second Age in the grand ring-forges of Eregion. After the great Smith discovered that Sauron had forged the One Ring, he went to Lothlórien to seek Galadriel's counsel. And there it was decided that the elven rings should not be destroyed, but kept hidden from Sauron. And Celebrimbor gave Nenya to Galadriel, and she had borne it ever since.

"The rings were made using knowledge obtained from Sauron. Therefore they are bound to him and his Ruling Ring, even though the elven rings are not touched by his hand and not stained by his malice. As a Ringbearer I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns the elves. And he gropes ever to see me and my thought. But still the door is closed!"

At that the light was gone from her finger and Nenya was no longer visible upon it. Celeborn took her hand, and she sighed. "It is a great burden to be a Ringbearer, and far greater are the temptations that come with it. Lórien remains flourishing, beautiful and safe from evil, but it consumes all my willpower and might. Alas, the days of the elves are coming to an end, and soon all will fade; I will diminish, and sail into the West."

With sorrow Daenerys looked upon the Lady of Light. How could such a powerful creature speak of diminishing? Galadriel was almost like a goddess in her eyes, and yet she spoke of her great power as a great burden. And still that power and herself was doomed to fade. Then she remembered what Thranduil often told her, about how the elves were bound to this world and could not escape it. They were to follow its fate, and either sail into the West or fade into wandering spirits.

For a time the boat sailed in silence, as none spoke. Every one of them seemed lost in their own thoughts. The boat took a turn, passing beyond the premises of Caras Galadhon now. It slid under a broken bridge, and on the southern shore the faint glow of street lamps was visible, as the road came close to the riverbank at that point. A circle of slender columns stood beyond the road, and marble statues decorated the entrance. "This place our people call The Lady's Rest", Celeborn informed them, pointing towards the circle. "My wife often likes to come here and reminisce", he added, glancing at her with a warm smile.

Just as Galadriel was about to speak, a loud roar tore the silence of the night. It was deep and resonant, and the sound of large wings beating at the air accompanied it. Alarmed, the elves stood and looked around, their bows at the ready. But Daenerys at once knew whom the roar belonged to, and she motioned for the rest to stay calm. "Drogon", she said. "One of my dragons. I could tell his voice amongst hundreds."

"One of your dragons?" the Lord worried. "You said you left them in Greenwood."

"We did", Thranduil intervened, grasping Daenerys' elbow. "It seems one of them decided to follow us."

And then Drogon came sweeping through the air and flew above them, letting out another screech. He made a wide circle and then darted forth, vanishing from their sight for a while, only to reappear and fly above the passing boat again a little later. The Galadhrim watched him astounded, forgetting to row for a while. Even Celeborn's stern face showed amazement, and he stood with parted lips. But Galadriel looked more composed, and her gaze followed the black dragon intensely. His shadow before the young moon made him look like a huge, monstrous bat.

"I am sorry, my lords", Daenerys said. "I instructed my dragons to remain on their hill, where their nests are, but it seems one of them disobeyed me. It is true they cannot bear to be parted from me for long periods of time. They see me as their mother, and they are still children. Although they are grown as you see, they still need me."

"You promised that we were welcome to gaze upon them, and now your promise is fulfilled", Galadriel said. "This dragon is not born of this world. His mind is wild and fierce, but I cannot sense evil intent. He is sentient, but does not possess the intelligence of the spawn of Ancalagon. Everything you have spoken to us is true, Daenerys. You have not sought to deceive us."

Daenerys smiled, and in her eyes tears of pride and relief welled up. And Thranduil squeezed her arm, feeling a sense of relief himself. For he had sensed that Daenerys was sincere in all she had told him, but to hear the confirmation from Galadriel's mouth did put even the last of his worries to rest.

"Truly, the sight of the dragon is breathtaking. It is one thing to speak of them, and another to actually behold them", Celeborn uttered. "And look at him; he is not four-legged, as the minions of Ancalagon. No dragon of this earth has ever been known to have only two legs", he noted.

"Indeed, that was one of the thoughts that crossed my mind, when I first saw the dragons, babies as they were in Daenerys' arms. I have known the serpents of the North all too well; a careful examination of these dragons combined with their mother's words convinced me that they truly were outlanders", Thranduil offered.

"And now you possess a powerful weapon, Elvenking", the Lord spoke on.

He nodded. "It is my hope that they will aid us in the war against Sauron."

"As long as they can be commanded", Celeborn remarked, lifting an eyebrow.

"They are not fit to be taken to battle yet; they are too young. And they still need training", said Daenerys. "But once a dragon matures, he can be ridden."

"Ridden?" the Lord wondered.

"Yes. My ancestors have bred and ridden dragons for centuries. It is in our blood."

"Impressive", Celeborn murmured.

Drogon flew off to the north then, disappearing into the night. Soon the four took their seats again, and the elves with the oars went back to rowing. But the image of the flying dragon dominated now everyone's mind, and all thoughts of the beauty of the wood were forgotten. Galadriel turned her perceptive gaze to Thranduil, and she spoke in his mind.

"I sensed she was special from the moment she stepped foot into Lórien. You can trust her, Thranduil. She will not betray you, for betrayal she abhors most in the world. With her dragons you will protect your realm effectively, but you need to protect her as well. For it will not be long now before your neighbors know of the presence of the three dragons, and they might seek to take them from you. And even worse, Sauron might attempt to steal them from you. Be on your guard, for the war is now too near. And once all is over, you may give her what she deserves, if you have the heart to do it."

What that she withdrew from his mind. A frown was now upon the King's face, and worry crept into his heart. He knew the dragons could not be kept a secret for long. It had been easy at first, when they were little and lived in a chamber in his Halls, but they were growing fast, and soon they would be almost as large as the great Mûmakil of the Haradrim. They flew wherever they wished, and the dwarves had once reported sight of something peculiar flying in the air. How long would it be before they saw the dragons again? And this time there would be no fooling them as to their nature. And what if Sauron chose to strike against him, while he was still unprepared?

Too many troubling thoughts danced in his mind. Weary, he leaned back in his chair and drew Daenerys close to his side. The boat ride back went by before his eyes like a blurry smear.