Chapter 9: Freedom

They heard running down the hall approaching the royal dining room moments before the guards reached the door. Thranduil was already on his feet when Iordor entered. His son followed closely on his heels. Both ellyn looked slightly out of breath, a feat not easily achieved and a testament to the urgent nature of the matter they carried.

Iordor only half-bowed to Beleth and Túven before he addressed the King. "My king, Lady Caladhel has fled."

Thranduil cursed silently. He had warned the elleth several days before against such reckless action, and still she defied him. He had briefly considered locking her up again following their conversation in the library, but he didn't. In truth, part of him wanted her to make an attempt, if only so she would learn how vain it would be.

"What happened?"

"She took her horse and bolted," said Haldor.

Thranduil was well aware that Haldor was the one assigned to guard Caladhel during the day. What he didn't know was why the ellon was here, speaking with him, and not out tracking his charge. "Why are you telling me this?" he snapped at the guard. "You should be riding out after her!"

Haldor looked to his father and back at the King.

"We tried," said Iordor, "but the deer. They will not let us ride them."

Iordor had not believed his son when he ran to the guard post and told him thus. It was only when Iordor himself and half a dozen others were thrown from the animals and cast into the dirt that he finally believed. Iordor had been troubled by the events of the previous few weeks, but the moment the hind threw him he knew fear for the first time.

It was difficult for the wardens of Greenwood to maintain the watch after the losses they sustained fighting Sauron. The entire kingdom had retreated farther north and shrunk in size because they could no longer defend the outer reaches. They could not patrol every inch of the border they held now without the deer's help. If Taurhîn turned his back on the elves of Greenwood, the kingdom's defenses would be crippled.

"I saw her speak to Taurhîn a few minutes before she made her escape," Haldor added. "I think he is helping her."

Túven and Beleth were still seated at the table and had been listening silently to the exchange. Túven turned to his wife. "What do you know of this?" His tone held a strong note of accusation.

Beleth shook her head in dismay. "Nothing. I swear." When she turned her attention to Thranduil she could see he did not believe her. "If she had told me, I would have talked her out of it."

"Are you sure?" Thranduil asked, for he was not convinced.

Beleth rose angrily from her seat. "I may disagree with you holding her here," she said, "but I am not a fool! Caladhel is no warrior. The wild is no place for an elleth unarmed."

"She has a bow," Haldor added. He had intended this news as a comfort to the Lady but immediately regretted his candor.

Thranduil rounded on the guard. "And how did she get her hands on a bow?"

Haldor cursed himself silently for mentioning it, but he would not lie to the King. "We were at the archery field, practicing."

"And she played you for a fool." Thranduil wanted to wring the idiot's neck, but he didn't have time to deal with the guardian now. He turned instead to Iordor. "Summon fifty guards to the front gate. We will find her."

"We will not catch her on foot," Iordor replied.

"No, we won't. Summon the Lord of the Forest. Go now! I will be there shortly."

Iordor and his son turned and ran back in the direction they came. Thranduil strode from the dining room toward his private chambers. He refused to run. Caladhel would like that, he was sure of it, making the King of the Sindar race through his own halls like a child or a servant. He would not give her that. Thranduil was calculating in his head the amount of time it must have taken Haldor to run from the training fields to his father's guard station and from there to him. Twenty minutes, maybe a little more. She could have her head start before he hunted her down.

Beleth abandoned her husband and followed quickly on her nephew's heels. She did have to run to keep up. When Thranduil turned to take the north passage she realized he was going in the opposite direction of the front gate.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To change," he replied. "I can't ride in this." He was wearing a tunic that was not cut for the freedom of movement needed to properly wield a blade or a bow. He swore to burn the garment when he returned and to never wear its like again.

"What if Taurhîn refuses to help you?" Beleth asked, concern clear in her voice.

"He will not refuse."

Thranduil said this with far more conviction than he felt. The elves and the deer of Greenwood had been allies since the Age of Trees, when the Nandor first broke away from the Great Journey and settled in the forest. Thranduil wanted to blame Caladhel for causing this rift, but in his heart he knew it was not her actions alone that led to their current predicament. One could not lie to a beast. They knew truth when they heard it. And if Taurhîn had chosen to aid Caladhel it meant that the Lord of the Forest had judged Thranduil - and found him guilty.

As if she had been listening in on his thoughts, Beleth voiced one of the many that haunted him.

"If the Lord of the Forest aided her escape," Beleth said, "he may not allow you to pursue her now."

Thranduil bristled at her words. He knew that, but he also knew that none of this would be happening had he not given in to Beleth's demands. "I should have kept her locked in that room."

Beleth shook her head. "You should never have kept her at all!"

When they reached his chambers Thranduil tossed his cloak and the fine tunic he wore to the floor. He pulled out some riding clothes and his light armor. He changed quickly and Beleth aided him with the rest.

Beleth worked silently for a time to secure his breastplate. After, she took up his left vambrace and began fastening the straps. "She reminds me of you, you know."

Thranduil was in no mood for Beleth's thoughts, but he knew that nothing short of gagging her would stop her from voicing them. "Is that right?"

"She has a sharp tongue when she cares to use it, a quick-wit. She is stubborn and wily." Beleth moved to secure the armor on his right arm. She looked straight into her nephew's eyes before adding, "She outsmarted you."

"And how smart will she be if an orc pack finds her?" Thranduil countered.

Beleth finished with the final buckle and when she was done she stepped back and folded her arms. She fixed her nephew with a look of stern appraisal. "What did you expect her to do? Sit and wait until you decided to release her? Beg you for her freedom? That elleth has fire in her, like Lúthien had – and Tinúviel did not wait for Celegorm to free her. Haun helped Lúthien escape and Taurhîn helped Caladhel. Poetic, really. Perhaps someone will write a song."

"Do not compare me to that cursed Fëanorion!"

"Why not?" Beleth replied, ignoring Thranduil's rising anger. "I understand he was ill-tempered and blond, too, though he might have been prettier."

Thranduil refused to dignify his aunt's ill humor with a response. He fastened his sword belt, picked up his bow and quiver and strode to the door.

"What will you say to the Lord of the Forest?" Beleth called after him, but Thranduil never answered.


Beleth's question echoed in Thranduil's head from the time he left his room until he reached the front gate. He had no answer and he needed one, now. Thranduil had been so angry at Caladhel's actions and at his conversation with his aunt that he had not had much time for any other emotion. It was not until he stepped outside and saw Iordor and his guards awaiting him that Thranduil felt fear. He saw that fear reflected in Iordor's eyes and the eyes of the elves who stood beside him. All of them fought beside Thranduil and his father on the plains of Dagorlad. They were brave and valiant ellyn all, even in the face of certain death. None among them could be called cowards. And yet they feared. For this was not the land of the enemy, this was their home, and never before had the good creatures of the wood rejected them.

Thranduil spied Taurhîn awaiting him in the middle of the field. They had blown the trumpets and he came. That, at least, was something. Thranduil knew he had to make things right for the realm and his people and he feared he would fail. He took a deep breath to calm his thoughts and steady his mind. It did not help, but there was nothing else to be done. He crossed the expanse of grass to meet the other King of Greenwood Forest.

Thranduil halted five paces from the stag. He touched his heart and bowed his head. "Taurhîn, Lord of the Forest, I thank you for heeding my call."

He took a step forward and held out his hand but the hart snorted and stepped back. He would not permit Thranduil to touch him. Thranduil closed his eyes briefly and reached out with all his senses to search the beast's mind.

"I have angered you."

Thranduil suspected as much, of course, and he read it easily enough in the hart's behavior. What Thranduil needed to know was why. If he could not discern what it was that caused Taurhîn to turn against him, he could not make it right, but the minds of beasts were not like those of elves or men. Their motives were not always so easily deciphered.

Thranduil reached out to Taurhîn's mind again. He had to try. "Show me," he whispered.

Thranduil felt at once the wind upon his face as he ran through the forest under the trees. He jumped over fallen logs and streams. He was free and full of boundless joy in that freedom.

All at once the joy vanished, replaced by terror and pain. His leg was caught. He tried to flee but could not. He pulled at the snare until it cut his flesh. He had to brake free or he would die here. He had to break free!

Thranduil withdrew from Taurhîn's mind. His body was trembling and so too his breath. A tear fell away down his cheek. Taurhîn's terror had touched that place deep inside him where the instincts of all animals dwelt. It was a full minute before he mastered himself enough to speak.

"I understand," he said, and he did. "You would not set a snare for one of your own, nor see any other creature caged. She told you I held her captive here. She did not lie to you, and nor will I." Thranduil had not confessed his next nagging thought to anyone. It sparked when Caladhel hit the floor the night of the banquet and grew with his aunt's criticisms, Iordor's concerns and the whispers of his people. He had not admitted it, even to himself, but he did now. "I thought my actions justified at first, but now, I think, I might have been wrong."

Thranduil held out his hand to Taurhîn. The hart snorted, but this time he bowed his head so the King might touch him. "I know my actions have angered you and I know you owe me nothing, but I beg you to help us now. We must ride after her. You know well the dangers that dwell beyond our borders. If some evil befalls her within these woods, it will be my fault – and yours."

Taurhîn nodded his head, seemingly in agreement.

"I will not hold her here forever," Thranduil said. "You have my word. Will you aid us once more?"

The hart threw his head back and his cry echoed through the trees. Dozens of deer came crashing through the wood to join those already in the pasture.

Thranduil released a breath he had not realized he was holding. "Thank you," he said.

Taurhîn snorted, bowed his head, and allowed the King of Greenwood to climb on.


A/N: There is a joke in this chapter that bears explaining since you are unlikely to grasp it without context. Beleth compares Thranduil to Celegorm, saying he was ill tempered, blond ... but might have been prettier. The joke there is in the double meaning of Celegorm's epithet, 'The Fair.' Tolkien never clarified whether he meant 'fair' to mean 'blond' or 'beautiful.' There are reasons to believe one or both might be accurate. Beleth has no idea either. She's just going off the tales she's heard to get in a jab at Thranduil.