Chapter 3 The king of the wood

He, for it was clear that the form before her was male, was tall and straight with a pale skin and hair the colour of the spring sun hanging to his waist. In form he looked much like the sons of men, though his beauty was far greater than theirs had ever been even at the height of their power and on closer looking she realised that the blue eyes were of a different shape and tilt, and his ears, just visible through the long locks, ended in graceful points. In terms of his years she could not assess them for though his body spoke only of youth his eyes had the look of one who had seen far more years than any child of man would ever know. He was very graceful and his look was kind but there was an aura of something powerful and slightly dangerous about him. Gallica gazed at him wide eyed as she realised that if he was the source of the barrier then he was very different to the children of men and, by their terms, very powerful indeed.

"The barrier is yours?" The words slid out before she thought to stop them.
He inclined his head.
"Yes, I set it here nearly two ages ago and I keep it, even though there is no reason to do so now." He smiled, though a little stiffly as if he had nearly forgotten how. "It has, perhaps, become a matter of habit."
She looked at him, encouraged by the smile.
"By what power do you hold it?"
"My own," he sounded surprised by the question.
Yes, very powerful indeed.
"Why did you set it?"
He moved away from her a pace or two and his expression changed as if he were looking into a time past.
"The time of my kind was passing and the age of men was begun. Those of my kin were left with a stark choice, to sail west and seek the undying lands or remain in this world and fade." He saw her puzzled look and smiled again, "to surrender our physical form. I could not leave while any of my people remained for I had made vows to them and to the forest and so I too stayed. But despite all the battles we had waged against it I knew that evil had not left the world, and I knew that strength would leave the sons of men and that they would forget those battles and fall prey to the evil again. So I set the barrier within which all of my kin who remained could live in peace undisturbed by the world of men."

Gallica stared at him for there was nothing in her memory of such beings or such happenings.
"Are you a magician then?"
"No." He looked down at her with tilted head. "Of course we have not been formally introduced my Lady…?"
"Gallica, my name is Gallica."
He bowed his head slightly.
"Lady Gallica. My name is Thranduil and I am the king of this realm."

King! A king! She knew of them, though they had been gone long before the fall of the children of men. She stared at him openly realising that he was dressed in manner she had never seen since her waking. He wore long boots that reached to his knees, a coat that nearly met their tops and glittered in the light of the moon now rising above them, over that he wore a robe shot through with silver and gold. On his hip he wore a long thin thing she that thought was called a sword. Her impression of his danger might well be justified.
"I thought kings wore crowns?" The words escaped before she thought them.
He smiled and inclined his head again and when he raised it he wore a crown of wood decked with summer flowers.
"I am somewhat out of practice." His smile was echoed in his voice.

Confusion overtook her, until this moment she had never conversed with any other than her own kind and she did not know how to talk to anyone else, much less a king of some personal power and the owner of a sword. But she wanted his approval and his goodwill and so the only choice was confess her ignorance.
"I know so little of the world. Should I bow to you King Thranduil? Should I call you majesty, or lord, or some other such title?"
He considered that for a moment before replying..
"In another age that would have been proper, even required. But this is not then and you are newly born so we will forgo the formalities. Instead tell me more of yourself and your place of awaking."

Gallica hung her head in what she thought might be called sorrow.
"There isn't much that I can tell you. How I came to wake I do not know; I have the thought that I had existed for some time before I woke but I do not know why I think that to be so. There is much that I could tell you of the past lives of the children of men, their thoughts upon themselves and the world, their songs and stories, their ways and laws, their loves and sadness and hates. But my knowing is of little use, for though I can tell the what of those things I cannot tell you the why. Nor can I understand how those whats came to be. I can describe to you the composition of the stars but I cannot tell you what a star is."
She looked at him, willing him to understand.
"I know what this forest is and yet I know nothing of it all. I cannot feel it, or sense it or understand why it is here, why it endures when the children of men perish. Do you understand why that is?"

He remained silent and still and a far away look come into his blue eyes as if he was looking back into some other state of knowing. For a moment it was as if the whole forest held its breath, looking inwards to something she could not see. Finally he looked back towards her.
"Perhaps. You are linked to the children of men that may be all the explanation that is needed, or maybe it is not. For the moment let us put that aside, tell me more of your place of awaking."

So Gallica told him of the great hall beneath the ground and the mountain that guarded it, of the light that always glowed in the walls and the air that was never still but that she could not breathe in her current body. She described the walls that looked to be of metal but that were not; of the sealed doors that had no keys and of the giant engines that fed on the sun itself. Finally she spoke of the bodies of the dead that littered these halls, many with weapons still clutched in their fingers.

Thranduil listened without comment and when she fell silent he nodded his understanding and sighed.
"Evil did indeed come forth." said softly, "Sweeping all good before it as it did more than once before. But the bloodlines of the great were ended and there was no one to stand against the shadows this time." He sighed again, suddenly looking desperately sad. "So despite their numbers and all their cunning and seeking the age of men ends. What will follow it I wonder?"
Gallica watched him in wide eyed silence as he seemed to lose himself in thought, and though this strange king's beautiful face was impassive she could see the drift of memory and feeling through his eyes. 'How,' she found herself wondering, 'could she who understood so little read that in such a strange being? Was it because all around her the forest seemed to echo with his thoughts? What nature of creature was he that the wider world so reflected him?'

Finally his mind was turned back towards the present and herself.
"What is it that you would have me do Gallica the newborn? I surrendered the world of physical form long ago, nor is that form truly yours. Yet I think that the question you seek to answer may lie within its confines."
"But you were once as the children of men were you not? Can you not find the answers I need in your memory of that time?"
"Perhaps, but I was never like the children of men for they are mortal and I and all my kin were not."
Now was surely the time to ask.
"What type of being are you then? For there is no life form that I know of that is not mortal."
He raised his brows and looked at her quizzically.
"Are you sure of that?"
"Yes, at least I think so."
"But you are newborn and so have more questions than answers, is that not why you sought me out?"

She frowned suddenly confused.
"Yes that is true, so what race was it that was physical but not mortal?"
"I am of the first born. Does that mean anything to you?"
Gallica search her memory but found no answer.
"No, I don't think so."

He looked at her in silence for a long moment then inclined his head in acceptance of her claim.
"Very well, I will explain. I am the Elvenking, elf kind. We were the first race that awakened in Middle earth and so were called the first born. Though we were once bound to physical form even then we were immortal. Now those of us that remain in the world no longer wear it, such is our fate if we do not follow the call of the sea into the west."
Gallica reached forward and touched his arm. Beneath the silken mantle the flesh was solid and warm and she thought she could feel the faint beat of a heart.
"But you have a body now, so you can still wear physical form."
Thranduil seemed to glow with an inner light similar to the one she had seen before he appeared in this form.
"So it would seem, though before this day I had not thought ever to do so again. As it is the forest has lent me what I need and memory has patterned it to be as once I was. But I have adopted it only to speak with you and I have no need of it. In truth I am not sure how long I could maintain it."
"Does it weary you?"
"No, not as yet, though in time it may. But I must return what I have borrowed if those who have lent it to me are not to suffer for their generosity."
He leaned towards her again looking down into her face with an expression of curiosity.
"And what of you new born? From where did you take your cloak of flesh? Must you return it too?"

She shrugged.
"I took it from the great engines and shaped it to what I wanted. I don't think they need it to be returned. But I will give it back if you think I should, if I can find the way."
He stared past her as if looking at something deep in the darkened heart of the young forest.
"It is probably of no matter, though I think you may need to forgo it before you can speak with your own kind again," his voice seemed to echo around them, "and I would have you speak with them."
She nodded, happy to do what he wanted if it would persuade him to talk to her again.
"Very well. I will do as you wish, I do not want to lose them and I can always build a new one."
"As, I think, can I, an interesting thought" he responded slowly.

Gallica moved closer to him, looking up into his face and committing it to memory. For a fleeting moment it occurred to her that memory was smaller in this form but the thought was pushed away by another.
"Do you have a place to live, a palace I think that they are called?"
He smiled down at her.
"Yes I have a palace; it was my fortress in the days when I walked the world in flesh."
"Why did you need a fortress? Were you attacked, did you have enemies?"
"In that world all had enemies, for evil itself took on physical form and sought to rule over very living thing."
"Did you fight the evil? Were you in many battles?"
She regretted the question immediately for a look passed across his face that seemed to her to be like a cloud passing over the sun. But he answered her easily enough.
"Yes, I fought in battles against that evil and hoped that it was defeated."
"Hoped, but not believed?"
He looked at her in surprise.
"You see more than I expected from one new born. Yes, that is true I did not believe the evil was defeated and nor was it. It never came in that form again but its presence never left, perhaps it never can if mortal life is to continue. Certainly the sons of men did much to keep it alive, even as their knowledge grew."

She frowned, reviewing her memory; there was no doubt that he was right.
"Why did they?"
For a moment she thought he might answer but then he smiled again and shook his head.
"I think that may be one of the things you have to learn. I cannot teach you the answer to that."
"Do you know the answer?"
"Perhaps. I have seen ages come and pass, cities and nations rise and fall, and I have noticed some patterns. But though I could show you those patterns I could not make you understand them nor believe in them if you did not wish to."
"Oh." She felt a feeling of something she could not name but ignored it. "But perhaps it doesn't matter." She reached forward and caught his hand, "Will you show me your palace please?"
He looked down at her, at the hand gripping his own, and as he looked he saw a shift in the pattern of her, he nodded.
"Very well. Come with me."
"Is it very grand and beautiful?"
"Grand? I cannot answer for that. Beautiful? I think so but you must see for yourself."
She chattered happily as he led her through the trees and he wondered again at the nature of her.

The elf lords of the Greenwood heard their Kings call and hurried to the Halls. To their astonishment they found him in the upper gallery looking out over his realm but wearing physical form, and with a glass of good wine in one hand and a platter of strawberries before him. As they watched he consumed some of both with obvious relish.

He felt their astonishment and nodded.
"Yes, it would seem that physical form is not totally lost to us."
He bit into a very large strawberry and washed it down with a swallow of wine then picked up another fruit and looked at it.
"I had forgotten how good such things could be, and, while I would not choose to resume the sorrows and restrictions of this form for ever, revisiting it from time to time is worth consideration."
He swallowed the fruit with a sigh of pleasure before he turned to them with serious eyes.
"The age of man is ending and there are newborns abroad in the world, ones who are as we once were, immortal yet children. What their story is I do not know as yet, but their memory is great even as their wisdom is small. What their purpose is seems to be hidden from them and their darkness is such that I cannot read it."
He scanned the forest around him with physical senses for the first time in millennia.
"We have wondered why were not called by Mandos when we faded, perhaps these newborns are the answer."
His expression became tinged with sadness.
"I would see my kin in the undying lands if I could but if that is not to be our fate then I would wish there to be a reason for it, other than simply being forgotten."
"What would you have us do my Lord?" an elf lord asked.
The king turned towards them.
"Watch over them, but let them know that you are there only when needed." He looked back towards the forest considering the towering trees with thoughtful eyes, "I think that they have much to learn that cannot be taught them; at least not by those who have walked that path so long ago. They must learn for themselves but we may provide some guidance and protection whilst they do so."

"The forest my lord what of that? Are they to be allowed to enter the Greenwood?"
Thranduil' turned towards the wood again and his blue eyes took on a far away look as his mind ranged across the world beyond his protected lands. For a while he was silent remembering all that had gone before, the faces of those men he had known, long lost to the world, and of those who took the ships countless centuries before. He recalled his family and those he had fought so many battles beside, all departed before the fourth age was barely begun. As he watched the sun turn the leaves to green and shivering slivers of light he tried to see the pattern of what might yet be to come but for the moment saw only fragments. He spoke slowly.
"For the moment, yes. The time may come when we must forbid them entry again, but not before the new forest has grown and they have learned enough to make their way without us."
"My Lord what do you think to be the purpose of this?" Another elf lord asked.
"I do not know." He smiled suddenly, and as brilliantly as the sun itself, "and it is a long time since we have seen such an uncertain thing. Yet I am sure there is a purpose and we can be patient if we need to be, we can wait to see its shape."

He remained staring out at the trees as the sun tracked across the sky and fell into the west. His eyes followed it as dropped below that western horizon and wondered if he would ever see the undying lands and be reunited with those who had gone before. Yet he had spoken no less than the truth when he had said they could be patient, time had little meaning to them, even less now than when they had worn physical form, waiting would be no hardship. The sky shifted towards black as night advanced and stars appeared in tattered swathes across its darkness, their cold brightness calling up memories ancient before the days of men. A full moon hung above the tree tops when Thranduil stepped out to the edge of the parapet and surrendered back the things he had borrowed.

He passed through the barrier between Greenwood and the world and moved out into the plains beyond before turning in the direction from which the Gallica had told him she had come.