Chapter 46: Captive Hearts

Thranduil soon discovered that his decision to explore the Celebrant this morning was unwise. Belras had developed a fondness for mallorn seedlings on their previous visit to Lórien, and on this, their second visit, the great hart would stop whenever he came upon one. The tiny seedlings sprang forth from the earth wherever the light penetrated the forest canopy, and there was much light to be had beside the river. Thranduil nudged Belras gently forward with his heels - to no effect. The hart disregarded Thranduil's intention for a morning ride in favor of a morning snack. Thranduil conveyed his displeasure with a more forceful tap of his heel, directing the beast westward along the river. Belras snorted his own displeasure at having his meal interrupted by Thranduil's boot.

"You have eaten enough," said Thranduil. "At this rate it will be a week before we return to the city."

The hart lifted his head following the reprimand, but only after he devoured the last of the tender shoots. He continued forward, and for a time both lord and king enjoyed the peace of the forest.

They were not an hour's walk upstream when both Thranduil and his mount heard the pounding of hooves behind them. Thranduil signaled Belras to stop and both turned their attention back along the river's bank. A minute later a horse appeared bearing a familiar rider.

Amroth slowed his mount to a walk. His expression betrayed surprise at the unexpected encounter, but he was not displeased by the sight of Thranduil.

"Does the King of Lórien seek to escape his court this morning?" Thranduil asked when Amroth pulled up alongside him.

"Indeed, I do," said Amroth. "And what cause have you to wander so far from the city gates?"

Thranduil patted Belras's neck companionably. "We sought a little escape, too. Belras is not particularly fond of cities. He prefers the wild of the woods."

So does his rider, thought Amroth. "You are welcome to join me for a tour of the forest, if you like," Amroth offered. "I find your company near tolerable."

"And interrupt your solitude?"

"I made no mention of solitude," said Amroth, "only escape. Join me."

Thranduil sensed some additional motive behind the king's invitation, but chose not to pry. He merely nodded and urged Belras to follow after Amroth's horse.

They rode in silence along the banks of the river. Thranduil was not one for idle conversation, and Amroth, sociable though he was, required a little quiet now and then. Amroth enjoyed the easy peace Thranduil's nature afforded him, for both kings sought this morning to simply be, one with the wood and the water.

They rode long up the Celebrant before Amroth turned to follow a stream that joined it. A short distance later they came upon a glade. Thranduil spied the telain high up in the trees. He guessed half a dozen Silvan families lived here. One of the residents was seated at a loom beneath the trees. She was a Silvan elf, to be sure, but graced with locks of gold, an unusual shade among her people. Her gaze rose from her work to greet the new arrivals. She was fair of face, with eyes the same shade of green as Amroth's. Her smile was unforced and there was joy in her eyes when they lit upon Lórien's king.

Amroth dismounted and Thranduil followed suit. They left their animals to graze at the edge of the glade and together approached the weaver, who Thranduil assumed to be the mysterious elleth who possessed Amroth's heart. Thranduil had learned much of her since he befriended Amroth, but despite the dozen or so visits he had made to Lórien since his marriage to Caladhel, he had yet to meet Nimrodel in the flesh.

"Amroth! I thought not to see you until your guests departed."

"I needed a respite from them," he said, taking up her hands in his.

Nimrodel's gaze shifted to Amroth's companion. She marked him for Sindar in a second, his silver hair, fine clothes and jewelry. "Not from all of them, it would seem. Who is this?"

"This is Thranduil, King of Greenwood."

"Ah, yes. The King of the Woodland Realm. Except wood elves have no kings."

She directed this statement at Thranduil. It was an observation and a challenge, too. Thranduil was sharp enough to mark the second. She spoke in the Silvan tongue since their conversation began. Thranduil knew not whether she did so out of habit or in subtle defiance of the Sindar who came visiting her corner of the wood.

"I suppose that depends on which wood elves you ask," he answered in her chosen tongue. "The wood elves of Greenwood call me their king. You may call me Thranduil."

"When I was young, no permission was needed to call an elf by his name," the elleth said.

"When I was young," said Thranduil, "I never imagined to be called king."

A spark of amusement lit Nimrodel's eyes at his counter. It tugged at the corners of her mouth, belying her otherwise serious expression. She glanced at the sky, marking the sun's position, before addressing Amroth again.

"Will you share a meal with me?"

"Of course," Amroth said.

Nimrodel looked then to Thranduil, who nodded his assent.

Amroth took Nimrodel's arm and she led both kings up a winding stair into the canopy. She fixed a meal of native herbs and berries accompanied by a healthy portion of lembas and fresh cheese. The fare was simple but delicious, much like Thranduil would enjoy on a visit to Iauron's house. Nimrodel joined them at the table, taking a seat beside Amroth. She chatted and laughed with him in a familiar way. Unsurprising, given their friendship stretched back nearly two thousand years.

Thranduil studied the elleth and Amroth while he ate, remaining mostly quiet during their spirited conversation. It did not take long for him to decide he liked Nimrodel. She was much like Caladhel, in her way, sharp-witted and self-possessed, with an effortless grace and undeniable beauty. Unlike Caladhel, however, she possessed the wild quality of the Silvan and was heedless of propriety in a way his wife's upbringing would never allow. It was clear in the way Amroth looked at her and she at him that a deep and abiding love existed between them, as strong and unbreakable as the bond Thranduil and Caladhel shared. Indeed, it had lasted far longer, despite the lack of a marriage vow. It was this final musing which made Thranduil uneasy, an emotion he could not quite hide from his hostess.

"You disapprove of me," Nimrodel said as their meal was ended.

Thranduil did not know how to respond. The shift in conversation was sudden. The accusation, though somewhat accurate, delivered without warning.

"You think so?" he said.

"It is in your every glance."

Amroth stroked Nimrodel's hand, now cradled in his. He kissed her cheek and leaning close to her ear he whispered, "That is his usual expression."

Nimrodel would not allow her observation to be so easily dismissed, not by Amroth or Greenwood's king. "Am I mistaken?" she asked Thranduil pointedly.

Thranduil would have preferred not to answer. He had no wish to hurt Amroth, or this elleth he so clearly loved. He shot a look at Amroth who smiled sadly before nodding his head, granting his friend permission to speak. Thranduil was careful of his words, more careful even than when in council with all the greatest elf-lords of Middle-earth.

"I do not disapprove of a Sindarin king loving a Silvan maid."

As cautious as he was, Nimrodel saw right through his attempt to avoid her question. "Your words are carefully chosen, Thranduil, but I am not so easily deceived. You disapprove of something. Speak your mind, if you possess the courage."

Amroth flinched at Nimrodel's taunt but he was not foolish enough to chide her for her rudeness or apologize to Thranduil on her behalf. His eyes, however, held a measure of regret for where their conversation had led them. Thranduil suspected this to be the very reason he had not been introduced to Nimrodel before today.

Thranduil pitied Amroth in this moment, for what he was about to say, but it was not pride or anger that pressed him to speak his mind, but genuine concern for a friend.

"You ask for the truth? So be it. The truth is I think it selfish of you to hold captive his heart. He deserves to be loved by an elleth who can love him fully, not only as Amroth but as Lórien's king, by one who will bend as much as he does."

Nimrodel appeared to take Thranduil's criticism in stride. No flush of anger marked her cheek. Quite the opposite. She nearly laughed. "You are a fine one to accuse me of holding a captive heart," said Nimrodel. "A hypocrite, I would name you."

Amroth choked on his drink as she finished her proclamation, mortified by her accusation. Thranduil, in contrast, had no idea what she meant.

"Meaning what?"

"Nimrodel!" Amroth snapped.

Both she and Thranduil looked to Amroth, startled by the sharpness of his tone.

"You would defend him this day," said Nimrodel, "when you railed against him in this very room not four weeks ago?"

"Railed, did you?" said Thranduil, curiosity swiftly replacing his former confusion.

"She exaggerates," Amroth insisted.

"Do I?"

"Now is not the time for this," said Amroth, and Nimrodel bit her tongue, albeit reluctantly. He took up Nimrodel's hand, but she offered him not the barest of smiles when he kissed it.

The King of Lórien rose from his seat urging Thranduil to do the same. "Forgive me, my friend, but I believe we have overstayed our welcome."

Thranduil understood that as their cue to leave. He rose as well and nodded a silent farewell to Nimrodel. He departed the talan first, leaving Amroth to say whatever he would to his Silvan love. He climbed down the long stair to the forest floor and awaited Lórien's king with his horse and Belras. Amroth joined them soon after.

"Do you wish to tell me what that was about?" Thranduil asked.

"It is not my place..."

Amroth's voice trailed off into silence. His lack of candor was concerning to Thranduil. He had never found Amroth to be shy of criticizing him before now. "If I have caused you some offense, I would have you tell me."

Amroth shook his head, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes. "There has been no offense, my friend," he said in a sorry attempt to reassure. "Let us return to the city before we are missed."


Amroth and Thranduil parted ways at the gate. Thranduil lingered awhile, pondering his conversation with Nimrodel as he had the entire ride back. He fed Belras a few carrots the stable attendants kept stocked for their horses. The hart would not abide a stable, but he would graze dutifully nearby awaiting his king's command.

The sun had descended near to the horizon by the time he was done. Thranduil knew Caladhel would be worried at his absence if he lingered much longer. He fare welled Belras and the stable hands before taking the most direct route to their talan, but as he drew near to home he spied an elleth seated on a bench along his path. Thranduil was not fool enough to believe she sat there by chance. An uneasy feeling rose inside him, one that had not quite abandoned him since his conversation with the Silvan maid.

"Lady Galadriel."

"King Thranduil," she greeted as she rose gracefully from her seat. "You are late returning from your morning ride."

"I met Amroth along the way. He took me on a tour of his forest."

"There are many treasures to be found beneath these trees," said Galadriel.

"I know of one, at least," Thranduil replied, thinking of his wife. "I fear my tardiness might have worried her."

"There is no need for fear on that account," said Galadriel. "My daughters distracted her for most of the day and Amroth's absence at the noon meal had her suspecting you two were together."

"I am glad to hear my absence did not distress her. I will seek her out now. Good evening, my lady."

Thranduil should have known it would not be so easy to escape. Galadriel laid a hand on his arm as he attempted to pass. The frown upon her face was more than enough to still him. She spoke not for a moment, merely gazed upon him sadly as if weighing some great trouble in her head.

"Walk with me," she said, her tone more plea than demand.

Thranduil saw in her eyes that she would not insist if he were to refuse. And yet, he found her own unease disquieting. Galadriel was not one shy of speaking her mind. That she hesitated now worried Thranduil more deeply than if her request had been a command.

He nodded once, and Galadriel, taking his arm, drew him along a different path beneath the canopy. They walked in silence for some time. Each minute seemed to extend for an age, so that when they arrived at their final destination Thranduil's heart was pounding from anxiety.

Thranduil believed he had explored all of Caras Galadhon's paths before this day. But it was clear when he entered the small glade that he had never visited this place. He would not have been surprised, however, to find that he had passed it by several dozen times without having noted the entrance. He could feel the swirl of magic here, and at the center, amid the grass, stood what one might easily mistake for a fountain – a small dais cradling a bowl of silver.

Galadriel broke their long silence with a question. "Has Caladhel ever told you what I saw in the mirror when you held her captive?"

"No," he replied.

"I would tell you now, if you will listen. I would tell you, also, why your father was denied a Ring of Power."

Thranduil could not say which offer held the stronger allure. He desired to know both her secrets, and feared them, too, in equal measure. Thranduil offered his consent with a nod of his head.

Galadriel looked to the mirror, her gaze distant, troubled. Her fingers danced lightly on the bowl's edge. "When my cousin gave me this mirror, the first thing I did was test its power. My power. To see how far my sight extended. I looked west and saw Mithlond, Círdan and his ships. I tried to see beyond to the White Shores. I wished to see my mother again, but the walls the Valar raised between this world and theirs were too strong. So I turned my gaze back and looked east. I saw your father's kingdom. I saw Oropher – and I saw you. And while my vision of your father was clear as day, your face was hidden in shadow. No matter how hard I tried, I could not see you clearly in the water's depths."

"So you wished to tell me I am cursed?"

"No. I wished to tell you that I can see you now, as I have for the last thousand years, ever since you opened your heart to Caladhel. There is no Shadow upon your soul, Thranduil. You only imagined it, and in your imagining, you made it so."

"But you feared me cursed before?"

"Yes. And for that reason I counseled Gil-galad to withhold the ring from your father."

Thranduil understood well Galadriel's fear, for indeed, it was his own. But he could not so easily decide how Galadriel's confession made him feel now. It certainly vindicated his former suspicions of her. It comforted him, too, in some measure, to know the darkness that once possessed his heart was not an unconquerable force. But that comfort rode upon a tide of anger, that she had kept this truth from him for so long.

"Thank you for your honesty," he managed amid his many emotions.

"Perhaps I should have shared this with you before now," said Galadriel, echoing his thoughts, "but it never seemed the proper time."

"And you believe the proper time is now?"

Galadriel shook her head. "I believe caution made me wait too long."

Thranduil could see now in her eyes that this confession was not the reason Galadriel brought him here today. Indeed, she could have told him this long-held secret at any time, anywhere.

"You spoke, too, of Caladhel," he prompted.

"I did," she said, her voice heavy, her eyes sad.

Thranduil's heart flooded with dread in that moment. "What did you see that should cause you upset?" he asked.

"I saw your son," she said.

Thranduil was not prepared for her answer. He felt at once as one struck by a fierce blow, unable to breath as one drowning.

"Is that why you brought me here?" he asked when his powers of speech returned.

"I brought you here because Caladhel's heart is sad."

Thranduil cast his gaze upon the mirror. It stood still and silent beneath the trees. "Has she seen him?" he asked.

"No. Caladhel has never visited this glade, neither has my daughter, nor Elrond."

Thranduil was not sure how to feel about this particular revelation. "Then why bring me here?" he asked again.

"So that you might see him," she said.

Thranduil eyed the mirror warily. "What if I fail to see him? What if I see something else?" It was not a question he imagined Galadriel could answer. It was a question he asked himself.

"Even the wisest cannot tell what may appear in the water's depths," said Galadriel.

"But you would have me look?"

"I would, for your sake, and hers."

Thranduil could not deny the terror of it – to see the future, unveiled. He knew without question that the ellon he once was, whose face was long hidden in shadow, would have run from Galadriel's request. The ellon who stood before the mirror now was likewise afraid, but his curiosity was more powerful. Our son? He walked up to the mirror and peered over the bowl's edge. Before his eyes could focus on his own reflection, the water stirred.


Caladhel awaited Thranduil's return late into the night. She did not begin pacing until the first of the sun's rays crept out from below the horizon. She dressed quickly as dawn broke and hurried to Amroth's study inquiring on her husband's whereabouts to every lord and warden she passed along the way.

She burst into Amroth's private study several minutes later without bothering to knock. Amroth's gaze rose from his desk, and Haldir, likewise, turned to the door. Both ellyn were moved by the panic in Caladhel's eyes.

"What is wrong?" Amroth asked.

"Is he here?"

"Here? Who? Thranduil?"

"He did not return to our talan last night. No one has seen him."

Amroth glanced at Haldir briefly before returning his attention to Caladhel. "We parted at the western gate near dusk. He was on his way home to you."

"He never arrived," said Caladhel. "What if some ill befell him?"

"No ill could befall him in this city," Haldir assured her. "Not with your aunt's power defending it."

This statement did little to comfort Caladhel, who stood now wringing her hands. Haldir reached out his own to still them. "I will find him. There is no need to fear."

"I will join you," she said.

"Best you stay here and await him," said Haldir.

"I agree," said Amroth. "If he was called away by one of your company, he will be most upset to find you missing upon his return."

"What if he is not in the city?" said Caladhel.

"Where would he be, if not here?"

Caladhel shared with Haldir a few of her and Thranduil's hideaways. Afterward, Amroth moved to capture Caladhel's arm and attention both, assuring she stayed put while Haldir went in search of her husband.

Haldir departed at once and headed first to the closest guard station. There he sent a few of his more discreet wardens in search of Thranduil, informing them only that Amroth had need of Greenwood's king. He, himself, searched those places Caladhel suggested, several within the city's walls, a few farther afield, to no avail. Her final suggestion led Haldir far from the city, close to the northern border. Haldir did not expect to find Thranduil so far from Caras Galadhon, but he was nothing if not thorough in every task. It was fortunate he was, for upon arriving at the falls, Haldir found himself mistaken. There upon an outcropping of stone sat Thranduil.

Haldir left his horse at the edge of the woods and approached the falls on foot. Thranduil never glanced his way and he offered Haldir no welcome when at last he arrived at his side.

"People were looking for you," said Haldir as the silence extended. His words had no effect, except perhaps to deepen the frown upon Thranduil's face. He tried again. "Not bitter at us losing to the Balrog Slayer, are you?"

Thranduil answered Haldir's question with a huff. "I do believe we surrendered that right when we failed to demand he withdraw from the competition." Thranduil's gaze moved from the water to the ellon at his side, acknowledging him for the first time. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"Caladhel was worried about you."

"And you came looking for me?" There was a hint of surprise in his voice, as if he could not quite comprehend Haldir's motivation.

"She planned to look for you herself, but Amroth and I convinced her to stay and await your return. She suggested I might find you here."

The frown that had graced Thranduil's face upon Haldir's arrival returned with full force. "She knows me well," he said, his gaze wandering back to the water.

"I was not aware you knew these falls," said Haldir.

"She brought me here a few days after her cousin's wedding."

"For what purpose?"

"To tell me you feared I would hurt her again."

"An odd place for such a conversation," said Haldir, for indeed, he thought it so.

Thranduil's gaze swept over the expanse of the falls, across the lake where the water pooled, down the little river. He shook his head. "It was the perfect place."

Haldir seated himself on a stone beside Thranduil, his own gaze fixed upon Greenwood's king. "Why have you returned?" he asked, though in truth, Haldir knew the answer. He could read it in Thranduil's eyes.

"Because I have hurt her again. I was too blind to see it - distracted by my own selfish heart." A minute or more of silence passed between them before Thranduil's eyes abandoned the water, his attention turning once more to Haldir. "Do you plan to kill me now?" he asked only half in jest.

"Why would I do that?"

"Was that not our bargain?"

Haldir nodded, for it had been his solemn vow. And in truth, Haldir had come close to throttling Thranduil on more than one occaision these last thousand years. One truth, alone, stayed his hand.

"Do you imagine my harming you would make her happy?"

"No."

"Nor do I," said Haldir, who rose from his perch upon the stone. "Come. She is waiting for you."

"And what shall I say when I see her again?"

"You ask me?"

"I was asking the rocks a minute ago," said Thranduil. "They were not so very forthcoming."

"Tell her you love her."

"She knows that."

"Tell her you are selfish."

"She knows that, too."

"Tell her you fear to share her love with another."

Thranduil frowned at Haldir's all too apt observation. "Am I so transparent?"

"No," Haldir replied. "I would fear the same. I imagine our fathers did, too, and Elrond, Celeborn... every father you have ever known."

Thranduil pondered Haldir's words for a time. He had not considered before now that his experience might be a shared one.

"You might well be a selfish ellon," Haldir continued, "and I have certainly found you to be ill-tempered at times... stubborn... arrogant... but I have never thought you a coward."

Haldir's praise amid his criticism was enough to light a spark of humor in Thranduil's eyes. Haldir extended his hand to help him up from the rock.

"Come," he said. "I promised your wife I would find you."

"We would not want to make a liar of you now, would we?" Thranduil quipped. He reached out and took Haldir's hand, though he needed no aid in standing.