15 - Swan Song of the Firstborn
Elluin was hard pressed to arrange Lady Ninniach's hair that evening. The lady kept looking between the small mirror and Lady Anarrima, comfortably lounging in a chair nearby, as she spoke about the wonders of Rivendell.
"I think I would need at least a century to explore all the waterfalls here," Ninniach was saying. "Elrohir said that they are different with each season and change with the rainfall, so each must be explored over and over again!"
"There are waterfalls in Greenwood, also," Lady Anarrima pointed out patiently.
"Yes, but they are not the same," answered the young elleth. "They are never quite as misty or tall. At least, I have never seen any waterfalls in Greenwood that are so impressive as the ones here."
Elluin and Anarrima both smiled. "I know of a few," Anarrima said. "I have had many more years to explore the forest. My favorite is between two of the highest peaks of the Dark Mountains, on their northern edge. One comes upon it suddenly, its noise masked almost completely by the ferns and mosses. It is a tall and narrow fall, hardly spotted among the trees from afar, so that it is a treasure only enjoyed by those near to it. It is like an arrow of moonlight shooting down from the tops of the mountains into the heart of the forest."
Ninniach was listening intently. Elluin was thus finally able to finish her work on the lady's hair, but then reconsidered. "My lady, would you like me to take back more of your hair so you can go climbing after dinner without it disturbing you?"
"Yes, Elluin, please! What a magnificent idea." Ninniach held her head obediently still. "I am certain I shall persuade Arwen and her brothers to join me. I shall ask them to show me the most magnificent waterfalls, then when we return home, I shall seek out all of Greenwood's falls to compare."
"Elrond's children will not be there. Who will accompany you?" Anarrima asked.
Ninniach considered. "Perhaps I shall ask the king," she decided.
Elluin struggled now with the young elleth's hair for a different reason.
"He does enjoy his occasional escape to the woods," the king's aunt mentioned.
Finally, Elluin finished and stepped back with a curtsy. "Will there be anything else, my ladies?" She fervently hoped her voice did not sound as strained as she felt it did.
"No, thank you, Elluin," Anarrima said as she began to rise and nodded a dismissal.
Right before dinner was to be served, Elrond appeared at the door of Thranduil's chambers personally to apologize on behalf of his guest and assured him that a thorough education was provided to Galdor, with earnest assistance from Celeborn. "Lord Cirdan sent him to Rivendell in hopes that his mind may be expanded," said the Half-Elven lord with a smile. "I believe much was accomplished in a rather brief time due to your intervention. And I daresay he will remember the lesson."
"If Galdor ever wishes his mind to be further expanded, he is welcome to join me in a sparring match," Thranduil answered facetiously.
Elrond's chuckle faded as he motioned for Thranduil to follow. "Come, we shall dine in a smaller hall this evening. There are words upon my heart that I would share with few yet."
The Lord of Rivendell led the Elvenking of Greenwood along the winding walkways. As they passed the Hall of Fire, they heard Berenil and other older Sindar Elves lamenting the glorious past of their people. The melancholy tunes of a harp and pipe accompanied the rich voices as they floated above the din of falling water.
*Daffodil and elm tree, as the light declines
I remember Thingol's city in the fair old times
I was raised on songs and stories, heroes of renown
The passing tales and glories that once was Doriath town
The hallowed halls and houses, the haunting children's rhymes
That Melian once protected in the fair old times
Daffodil and elm tree, as the light does fade
I remember Thingol's city 'fore it was betrayed
The years have made me bitter, the seagulls call my name
For Middle Earth is changing and nothing seems the same
The chiefest of our foes have gone, though evil still remains
In shadows lurk the creatures of our Enemy in chains
Daffodil and elm tree, the light is fading west
I remember Thingol's city while it still was blessed
Oh Menegroth, such beauty was safely hidden there
Until the blessed jewels of Feanor stripped the whole land bare
First the Dwarves, then our own kin saw the Sindar almost fail
Dispensing death to countless souls, victims of the tale
Daffodil and elm tree, as the light declines
I remember Thingol's city in the fair old times
Daffodil and elm tree, the light is fading west
I remember Thingol's city while it still was blessed
Thranduil's thoughts strayed often to the lost Sindar kingdom of his youth. But while others mourned the protective Girdle of Melian that kept them safe and isolated from the world's troubles, and others missed the treasury of art and wealth stocked in Thingol's caverns, Thranduil cared for neither. He instead remembered with longing the only time in his life during which he had lived with his family in carefree joy. More than their home was lost in the Sack of Doriath. The innocence of his youth, his mother's hope, his father's peace were irrevocably destroyed. Even the love between them was tainted, as each realized that it lacked the power to stay the darkness that was born in their spirits.
The Elvenking felt wonder, then, at the tranquil Half-Elf walking beside him. Elrond had lost his home and both parents as a youth, captured by the very same Noldor Elves that had destroyed Doriath. And yet, the memory of gladness was apparent in his face alongside that of sorrow. Thranduil could not bring himself to ask him for an explanation.
The pair eventually arrived at the small dining chamber, finding Celebrian, Anarrima, and Amroth already there. As they found their seats, Celeborn and Galadriel also joined them. Glorfindel was the last to walk in, deceptively docile-looking in his robes. Servants efficiently distributed the meal then discreetly left the lords and ladies to themselves. They all chatted comfortably, keeping the topics light, seeming to sense that the evening would turn more somber without any goading.
By the end of the meal, there was an air of expectation and the room quieted immediately when Lord Elrond cleared his throat. He held Celebrian's hand as if for comfort as his gaze swept across the faces of the guests.
"Friends, I have a confession," he began. "The reason for gathering you as the leaders of the Elves to Rivendell was two-fold. We did wish to celebrate our daughter Arwen coming of age, but also to share a premonition regarding the fate of our peoples. Lady Galadriel and I have both seen it, and it was echoed by Lord Cirdan in a message: Arwen is the Evenstar of our people. In her lifetime will come the end of Elvendom in Middle Earth." He squeezed his wife's hand. Celebrian gifted him with a brief, sad smile.
Amroth, never one to keep his questions hidden, spoke next. "But your daughter's lifespan is tied to Arda, like that of the rest of Elf-kind, the choice of the Half-Elven aside. Indeed, even some at this table have lived many thousands of years." He nodded respectfully at Galadriel and Glorfindel, who nodded back. "Who can say for any Elf what a lifetime could mean?"
"None," Elrond conceded. "However, for this foresight to be revealed to so many is enough to suggest that our fall could come relatively soon."
"In my view, all the Elven domains that remain in Middle Earth have been recovering well from the war," Anarrima said, her brows furrowed in doubt. "While we do not have our previous numbers, our peoples are thriving now that the Shadow has been overthrown."
"Lady, as your nephew would admit," Glorfindel broke in, "there remains uncertainty despite the peace. The Enemy was defeated, but although it was lost, the One Ring remains. The Dark Lord's absence has allowed the Three to work unhindered to assist the Firstborn in restoring some of our realms. However, since the Three retain their power, it can be guessed that the One does, also."
The Elves around the table were shrewd enough to know that the identity of the bearers of the Elven rings was information too precious to ever be openly discussed. They were also wise enough not to need any clarification. Their creator, Celebrimbor, gave one to Galadriel and the other two to King Gil-galad, who had later passed them to his lieutenant, Cirdan, and his heir, Elrond. On the hands of these wise and foresighted Elves, they would be of most benefit against any threat to the Elves of Middle Earth.
Glorfindel continued, "If it were ever to be reclaimed, darkness would spread once more across Middle Earth. Could Elvendom survive another fight against the Shadow? So many of us left these shores even before the war, losing hope that the Enemy could be overcome. Countless were slain during the war itself. Still more sailed west afterwards, feeling that victory came at too great a price. The few of us that remain may be happy for a while, as you say; however, there is no telling how long this may last."
Elrond sighed mournfully. "The events following the siege of Barad-dur continue to haunt me," he admitted quietly. "It was beyond question that the Dark Lord was defeated. The One Ring, therefore, I deemed impotent. The Three had been hidden, and we had not yet realized that they still maintained their power. And Isildur, the heir of my brother's line, insisted that he deserved some small recompense for the deaths of his father and so many of his kin. I allowed him to keep the Ring when he would not be persuaded to destroy it. Had I known…"
"You could not have known," Galadriel reassured. "It is lost now, lost both to us and its maker. The Shadow has not been felt since the war. Hope remains yet for our people."
"Yes, Artanis, there is always hope for us over the sea…and perhaps for a while yet on the hither shores," Glorfindel conceded, calling the lady by the name her father gave her — the name she bore during their shared youth in Valinor.
"My advice would be to use this time of peace to prepare for the worst," Celeborn said with a look at each of the Elven rulers. "Elvendom can prosper now, and should. Alliances can be forged and maintained among the Free Peoples against the day of need. You may increase your defenses, craft armor and weapons, maintain a careful watch on the borders—"
"Increase the population," Thranduil added with a hint of bitterness. "New soldiers to replace those we lost on the Dagorlad."
Several of the company frowned at his indelicate words but none contradicted him, for that was precisely what was meant.
"I will dare to linger on the side of optimism," Anarrima broke in. "My hope is to see the Greenwood flower again. Your counsel is wise, as always, cousin Celeborn. I agree that steps should be taken to strengthen the Elven realms. If they prove unnecessary, we shall be none the worse for them."
Amroth scratched his head in frustration. "How does one encourage a population of Elves to increase?" he asked with an exasperated tinge in his voice.
The older members of the group laughed gently. "Young king," said Glorfindel, his eyes bright, "simply make plenty of opportunities to bring them together with feasts and wine to make merry. Although, you may see results sooner if you set the example." He raised a brow at Amroth, who suddenly turned pink. Then Glorfindel smiled at Thranduil in a way that made the Elvenking feel as if he were missing a joke.
"As for my three children," Celebrian said, echoing Glorfindel's lighter tone, "my hope is that the continued friendship among the Elven realms may encourage them to meet many potential mates, for I would dearly love to be a grandmother."
Thranduil once more shifted the conversation to a more sober tone. "The passes across the Misty Mountains may need to be patrolled if any are to travel regularly between our realms."
"The Dwarves could help," Celeborn suggested. "They may wish to travel between their own strongholds and could be persuaded to maintain the Old Forest Road in the interest of trade." He looked pointedly at Thranduil. He knew well that the suggestion could offend the Sinda king, who did not have a Noldo wife to soften his mind toward considering the benefits of such an arrangement. "Since you are still rebuilding Greenwood's forces, Thranduil, I would recommend considering it."
"No Dwarf has entered my realm since the fall of Khazad-dum," the Elvenking answered, trying to keep his words diplomatic, though he bristled inwardly at the mere idea. "If they make any attempts to do so in the future, I shall remember that their desire for trade routes may serve as leverage, should I decide to make any agreements with them."
Celeborn and his wife smiled with approval.
"Groups of Men have been seen around the borders of Lorinand," Amroth said. "They appear to be largely nomadic now but if they make any settlements, I may try to enlist their aid in protecting the Redhorn Pass."
Elrond interrupted another round of approving nods. "I propose a toast to the Elven realms of Middle Earth," said the Half-Elven lord. "Though the glory days of the Firstborn have come and gone, long may we yet live in peace on the hither shores."
All goblets were raised. "The Elven realms!"
The determination in the faces of the company was evident. Despite the optimistic resolutions and the renewed friendship between their peoples, they would never again see the like of the kingdoms of old. What success there would be in strengthening the Elven kingdoms would be temporary, as either death or weariness called all of them to Valinor.
Thranduil had felt the beginning of despair even before this conversation, hearing the lament for the fallen kingdom of Doriath. Now, with the end of his kingdom and people foretold, he battled fiercely against complete hopelessness.
* Inspired by "The Rare Ould Times" by Pete St. John, sung by various artists.