Chapter 62

Come Away

Winter was fast approaching. In other words, Aduial en Meleth was fast approaching.

The only worry of the Nandorin folk was that there would be no evening celebration for this year, considering what had happened from King Amroth's demise to Erynlith's refusal to take the leadership. The consolation the Nandorin elves only felt was the beauty brought by winter. It would be a bland winter, though, without the annual evening of romance that the elves, especially those deeply in love with someone, were looking forward to. Others whispered behind their hands, their breaths smoking in front of their faces, on how could Erfaron neglect to acknowledge such an important event. Some began to gossip that Erfaron was insensitive, that she did not care, and did not deserve to rule Lórinand.

Walking amongst them, often hidden by the shadows, Thranduil heard these whispers and did not appreciate them. His eyes narrowed, despite knowing that none of the Nandor would see or give attention to him. It had been a month since he and Raithon arrived in the golden forest. As far as he was concerned, Erynlith still refused to mention any plans.

When one of the female attendants walked past him, the Elvenking waved his hand and beckoned her to come closer. She complied, and bowed her head to him.

"The warrior, where is he?" Up until now, he refused to openly address Glorfindel by his name, and Thranduil himself did not understand why he disliked mentioning it so much.

"Lord Glorfindel is in the infirmary," the attendant answered timidly, her shy brown eyes fluttering every once in a while to peek at the King. She took notice of his green tunic and dark breeches, the leather boots and the brown vambraces on his arms. It seemed he was going out for a hunt. "He often checks if everything in the forest remains in good condition."

He has finally made himself welcome here, he thought begrudgingly. If Nimrodel was present, she would glare and order him to leave her forest.

The thought would have made him laugh, but thinking about Nimrodel made him think about Amroth. He suddenly felt that he missed Amroth, who had been the brother he never had, even though it was Amroth's fault in the first place why Lórinand was in jeopardy. But if not for him, a voice at the back of his mind whispered, you wouldn't have gone to Lórinand and meet Eryn. Thranduil agreed with the voice, and with a dashing smile and flick of his hand, he sent the timid attendant off to her duty and also noticed the faint blush that covered her cheeks.

Dried leaves crunched under his feet, despite his care not to make a sound. Autumn in Lórinand was much like in Greenwood; short but a fearful time, with the thought of winter coming into mind. Some Elves loved the winter, but some were more concerned about the lack of warm water, green plants, and ripe berries. First week of autumn made the leaves turn from golden to dark brown, the vines that coiled around the staircases became dry.

Thranduil stopped in front of the grand palace that was built between two mellryn. It had been King Amdír's palace, then Amroth's palace, though now it was no more than a shelter for someone contemplating whether to rule the forest or not. Ever since the thought of a coronation ceremony was mentioned, Erynlith had remained pensive most of the time, and the Nandorin folk had complained that they saw little of her.

He looked left and right, taking notice of the few elves that were walking around the courtyard. Without wardens guarding the foot of the staircase, he went off and ascended until he stood in front of her door. He bit his lower lip, unsure whether to continue, but a voice in his mind urged him to knock. And so he did.

"Whoever you are, go away." Erynlith's voice in the other side of the room sounded soft and muffled, possibly by her blanket.

He said, "It is me, Thranduil. Would you please open the door for me?"

Inside her bedchambers, she groaned and pulled the blanket off her head, scampered out of her bed and went to the door. She opened it slightly, her eye peeking through the thin crack. She saw the Elvenking leaning against the railing, and then moved forward when she opened the door a little wider.

"What do you want?"

He was glad to know that she was not crying, because part of him did not want to see another maiden crying in front of him. "You haven't left your room for a while. Everyone's looking for you."

"Are they looking for me or for the so-called Lady?" She sighed and avoided to look into his eyes. "There is a difference between the two: I am Erynlith and the Lady they are referring to is someone else. Did Glorfindel tell you to come here?"

His jaw tightened upon hearing that. "No, the warrior did not tell me. I came here on my own accord," he answered as softly as he could.

She only nodded and moved to close the door on his face. "Good. Um, thanks for stopping by."

"I am not quite done with you yet." Thranduil immediately stretched his hand to block her path, and so that the door would remain open for him. He met her startled look, and his eyes softened, only for her. "I have something in mind," he murmured.

"What?" She tried to recover from that fact that he had just stopped her from leaving him there, and it frightened her that he was becoming demanding again, just like before in southern Greenwood, when King Oropher and King Amdír still lived.

He stopped for a moment, gathering his wits and making his voice was pleasant as possible. It had been Raithon's idea to invite her elsewhere, because he knew it would delight her very much. Thranduil, despite the arrogance and the confidence, had actually felt unsure about the plan. At the back of his mind he imagined that Glorfindel would arrive and come in between them again, and that Thranduil would be pushed aside and be ignored for the rest of the day.

Not today, he told himself.

"Do you have something to say, tra-la?" Erynlith prompted, cocking her head to the side.

"I do." Thranduil gave his signature smirk, and felt his confidence boost when he saw her smile. There was no Glorfindel in sight, thus he would take his chances. Right here, right now. "How would you like to come to Greenwood with me?"

It seemed her world had stopped. Was she hearing correctly? The King of Greenwood himself was inviting her to his kingdom, the forest that she had loved so much long ago. She stared at him, and was only aware that she was gaping when Thranduil chuckled. She blinked her eyes, considering her options. But her heart was beating faster and faster, excitement coursing through her veins. She began to imagine all the exciting things she could do in Greenwood—away from all these troubles and problems.

She could be Erfaron again, not the Lady, and Thranduil had just offered her a chance of escape.

"Is it possible...?" She wanted to leave Lórinand, but it was an uncomfortable thought to leave everyone behind just for her happiness. What about the Nandorin folk? Haldir and his younger brothers?

Thranduil leaned against the doorframe and brought his face closer to her. "Of course you could leave," he whispered, observing how her eyes twinkled at that. He kept his smile hidden. He could think of thousand ways to persuade her, and without mentioning the dreadful L-word.

"But... everyone would be worried if we leave..."

"No, they won't. It would only be just for a few days. Spend the rest of autumn and winter in Greenwood."

"And the wardens? They would not allow it."

"Like I said..." He rolled his eyes. "Just for a few days. Do you not want to see the beauty of Greenwood during winter? Do you remember Santien and Amardís? They would be extremely thrilled to have you back."

She looked up to him, pouting. "What about Glorfindel?"

The mischievous grin on his face vanished. It irritated him that she constantly thought of that warrior's well-being while she herself was not doing so well either. She was in the middle of deciding whether to pursue her happiness or what would please the Nandorin folk, and then still had the time to mention the warrior.

"He would be just fine. I promise." Thranduil forced a smile and watched as she fell silent and considered her options again.

"Just for a few days, the rest of autumn and winter?"

"Exactly my point, Eryn."

She brightened upon hearing her name. Only Glorfindel and Thranduil were the ones to call her by name, which seemed to lift her spirits all the time.

"When do we leave?" She could not mask the excitement in her voice.

"What about now?" He glanced at the skies. It was mid-afternoon and he knew that Glorfindel and the wardens would be quite engaged in keeping watch and order in and out of the forest. No one would notice them leaving.

"Perhaps I could leave for a few weeks. Glorfindel should not mind." She nodded at him and returned to her bedchambers. She began packing some of her old dresses that were left, tossed her tunics and trousers in one messy heap, and did not forget her white bow and daggers that had been unused ever since Amroth left almost a half a year ago.

Thranduil waited until she was dressed in her travelling clothes and blue cloak. Her pack was slung over her left shoulder, the quiver filled with arrows around her waist, while her bow was strapped over her right shoulder and across her back. Seeing her in those clothes made him think of the olden days when they were fooling around at the rivershore, chased wargs and picked bluebells in the meadow. He offered his hand to her, and was surprised that she actually took it and tugged him downstairs.

"Slow down," he sharply whispered to her, trying to follow her swift movement.

"Keep up!" She tugged at his hand again as they sneaked their way to the stables, wary of all the scouts nearby.

He poked his head between the trees and saw that no one was giving much attention to the surroundings. The warrior ought to train them while we are gone, he thought to himself.

Pressing an index finger on his lips, he gestured for Erynlith to follow him to the stables. He fetched his white stallion and let the minstrel mount first, before he heaved himself up and sat behind her.

"Ready?"

Erynlith stiffened, now realizing that he was sitting behind her. His chest was pressing against her back, both of his arms around her to hold the reins properly. She could tell his face was close to her, as she felt his warm breath ghost about her neck. Her mouth and throat went dry at once. She did not understand why; she had been in this situation with Glorfindel before but it never felt uncomfortable at all. With Thranduil now, it somehow felt strange but right.

"Yes." She closed her eyes and nodded. "Let's go."

"Here comes Lord Glorfindel," one of the scouts whispered in his ear.

Haldir tore his eyes off Mirrormere and looked down. He was perched on top of a mallorn, clutching his bow and arrow. Without orders from the Lady, it was the golden-haired Elda who stationed him there, who was cautious about the growing numbers and hostility of the Dwarves in Moria. When his eyes fell upon the figure of the warrior, clad in gold and white, Haldir gave up his position and jumped off the tree.

"Reports?" Glorfindel gave him a stern look before observing the oval-shaped lake. More and more dwarves were gathering to guard their precious lake, and most of them carried weapons and torches.

"Enemies are still hostile," Haldir answered in the same stern voice. He stood beside the warrior, a few inches shorter than him, and pointed an index finger towards the edge of the lake. He leaned closer and whispered, "They are keeping weapons in that side, in case a skirmish ensues and they would need back-ups." He looked up and pointed towards the top of the cave entrance. "They have archers stationed there."

Glorfindel nodded in appreciation. He tapped the young marchwarden's shoulder. "Good work. You are the most reliable." Then he remembered the magic word that always delighted Haldir. "Erfaron should know that you're making good progress without her presence. It's a good start to become the next Chief Marchwarden."

Haldir's face brightened. It seemed as though his blue-grey eyes twinkled at the thought of it. He clutched his bow tighter and stood up straighter. "Yes, I hope so. Are we going to fight the Dwarves?

"No." The golden-haired elf gestured to his weaponless person. "Not if we could help it, not unless Eryn gives out orders." However, knowing his friend, he was certain that she would never resort to a fight.

"But they are hostile," Haldir countered fiercely. "They are preparing for a fight while we remain observing them! If they attack, how are we to defend ourselves when we are defenceless in the first place?"

"I understand it worries you," Glorfindel replied, with all the wisdom of a warrior who had been into countless battles. "Which is why I am asking you to keep watch. You should be able to discern whether they are planning to attack now or some other time. Give me details when I return."

Sighing in defeat, Haldir could only nod.

Then, Orophin ran towards them. His face was flushed with exhaustion. "Lord Glorfindel," he panted. "We have visitor."

"What?" Glorfindel rounded towards him with a distressed look. "Who comes into Lórinand without permission?"

Behind Orophin, someone cloaked in grey came into view. He wore a pointed blue hat, its shade partially covering his long, bushy eyebrows. He leaned against a wooden stick as he walked, and a small brown satchel was slung over his shoulder. His smile widened as he stepped closer to the elves; some nodded to him while the others only stared in wonder.

The Elda was the first to recognise him. Why not, of course, when he was among them while they sailed from the West?

"Mithrandir."

"Call me Gandalf," Mithrandir said. Standing beside the warrior, he proved to be as tall as Glorfindel, and while the elf was all white and golden, Mithrandir was all cloaked in grey and dark blue. He clapped the elf on the shoulder and said, "The Men of the South call me Gandalf now."

"You are most welcome in Lórinand." Glorfindel drew him further inside the forest, as Haldir, Orophin and the other wardens looked on in wonder. "You come at the very best of timings," he continued. "Lórinand remains unstable, the Dwarves of Moria are looking for a fight, and Eryn remains passive about everything."

"So I have heard from Lord Elrond." Gandalf shook his head. "I came here to help in whatever way I could. Has she shared plans with you?"

"She wants to return to Rivendell, for that I am most sure."

"What about Lórinand?"

Glorfindel peered over his shoulder, cautious about the wardens eavesdropping. He pulled Gandalf closer and whispered in his ear, "She plans to merge it back with Greenwood, and let Thranduil rule over everything."

"Seems plausible." The wizard bobbed his head up and down.

"Yes, but the Nandor are not quite convinced," the Elda confided. "They want her as the new Lady of the Forest, as King Amroth's successor." He could not hide the anxiety in his voice any longer. He tried countless times to persuade her into ruling, but she always refused. He did not want to sound so demanding or imposing, especially to her; thus all he could do now was watch over the forest while Erynlith lingered in her room.

"Where is she now?"

"Back in the palace. She has remained in her room most of the time."

"Are you quite sure about that?" Gandalf hummed, as he noticed a scout running towards their direction.

Haldir was first to react when Rúmil arrived. He gave his brother a bewildered look, and made him catch his breath before bringing news. Orophin went to them, and not long after, more and more wardens gathered around the panting young scout. Now alarmed, Glorfindel and Gandalf approached, as the warrior's dark blue eyes narrowed.

"What happened?"

"I... I went to deliver the Lady's lunch, as per usual," Rúmil began to explain, feeling everyone's eyes focused on him. "I knocked and opened the door when no answer came. She was gone, Lord Glorfindel, and I swear to the Valar I tried searching for her! She's gone, and so is Lord Thranduil..."

Glorfindel felt a pang in his chest. With a shaky voice he asked, "And Captain Raithon gone as well?"

"He stayed behind," Rúmil answered. "Only Erfaron and Lord Thranduil are gone."

"What do you intend to do?" Gandalf asked the tense warrior. "I am sure they have gone for Greenwood. Do you plan on riding after them and demand the King to let Erynlith go? It would not work, mellon nín. You and I both know it would not. Let us return to the palace and think things through. She is in good hands, I assure you. The King would take care of her."

"How could you be so sure?" Glorfindel bit on his nail, raked his fingers through his golden locks, and pulled at his braids—habits he had developed when nervous. He paced back and forth in front of the grey wizard.

"If you trust your friend, you should be assured that she could handle herself."

"I trust her with everything I have. It's Thranduil I do not trust one bit."

The wizard tilted his head, smiling mischievously. "Why not?"

"I just don't, Gandalf."

Next Chapter: Follow the misadventures of Thranduil and Erynlith, while a storm brews in Lorinand after their escape.

Author's Notes: I plead guilty for updating late. I have papers to finish and lessons to study, for exams are upon me again! Well, here we have genius Thranduil with an equally genius plan (which is actually Raithon's): a proposal that not even Eryn could refuse. Now that Glorfindel knows (don't be sad, my love), who knows what measures he'd use to bring her back. Dun, dun, dun!

*May - Team Glorfy, always Team Glorfy.

*sleepinglionzz32 - Eryn needs to learn how to turn down people around her. Thranduil's making good progress, I think he can handle her as well as Glorfindel can.

*Flucas - Ahh! Don't mention Thranduil being sexy! It makes me swoon over him all over again!

*Aelin - Thank you! Relaying relationships through interactions can be quite a handful, and I am thankful you find it well. Also, the usually arrogant Thranduil only shows moments of insecurity with Raithon. That's what friends are for! :)

*Omorfi Enas - Yes, Thranduil, the stalker king. Fortunately, no one noticed him spying, or else he's have to face an extra disappointed Eryn or an angry Glorfindel.

*Lord Illyren - The war you're referring to starts from here, my friend. No one takes Eryn without permission from Glorfindel! We might have prologues to the tension starting next chapter. Eryn needs to decide before these two start punching each other. XD