79 – The Easterlings Arrive

Thranduil closed his eyes for a few seconds, allowing the repeated impact of his horse slamming its hooves into the brittle grass of the plains to jar through his body, grounding him to the present. He shut off the thoughts about the evening's impending meeting with foreigners, and the meetings with fallen soldiers' families the following day. He ignored, also, the weariness at the edge of his consciousness that reminded him of a sleepless night and the physical strain he had endured through the ride from Greenwood to Stony Bend, the battle within the gates, and the aftermath of combat.

Now, he focused on what was most essential to his spirit: the elleth riding at his side.

Though it would seem to an outside observer that Elluin was entirely focused on guiding her mount in their race back to the forest, Thranduil could sense her uneasiness. She had accepted his forgiveness, this was true. But she knew all of his emotions, sometimes before he knew them himself, and thus she sensed now the anger he still bore. Thranduil had learned that his wife sometimes subconsciously mirrored his own expressions when she sensed his feelings. And he could see it there in her face whenever she glanced his way as they rode: the tightness of her lips, and the wrinkle between her eyebrows. He recognized the gestures as entirely his own.

How he wished he could speak plainly with her. If there were not such a hurry to arrive back at the palace to receive the foreign travelers, they could climb up into some tree once they reached the Greenwood, and spend the evening in honest speech, out of earshot of any but their Silent Guards. Thranduil would tell her that he was not angry with her, but at the situation. He was upset at the needless death of the Men of Stony Bend; at how close the battle came to where Elluin was sheltering in the chieftain's hall; at the haste in which they were now obligated to return to their home; and the immediate demand on their hospitality by potentially dangerous strangers.

Thranduil dared not say any of this aloud to Elluin while they were not in private. It would be a dishonor to his title, and therefore disrespectful to his people, if he were to complain of his duties. But neither could he leave her to worry this way.

Cembeleg raised a hand, and the company slowed to a walk to allow the horses to catch their breath.

"Elluin," Thranduil began, and his heart clenched as she turned pained eyes to him. He used as gentle a tone as he could muster. "You have had no rest. How are you faring?"

Thranduil kicked himself mentally for the pathetic excuse of a reassurance. Of course, she would take it as a suggestion that she was not prepared to deal with the evening's imminent demands.

"Well enough," she answered simply, turning her head away though she held her chin up with an admirable amount of regality.

He was right, then, about how his remark would be received. And now his queen was offended, though she tried hard not to show it. Offended, and still mourning the past night's tragedies for which he knew she blamed herself. At least she kept her stallion in step with his. Her love for him was like a tether in that sense. She would not allow herself to separate from him. He had that in his favor, at least.

"I am glad to hear it, my heart," Thranduil said softly, determined to mend at least some of the rift between them. "I am confident that, with you beside me, tonight's meeting with the foreigners will go well."

Elluin met his eyes, and he offered a small smile, infusing his affection into the gesture, though it was tempered by the uneasiness of the circumstances. And his beloved queen must have seen all of this, for she gifted him with a weak smile of her own.

Thranduil was about to say something else, but Cembeleg gave the order to resume a faster pace, and the king did not feel it appropriate to gainsay his general. But he wished he could speak with Elluin a little more. He would have spoken of that guilt with which he was all too acquainted as a leader himself: a decision she had made, however well-intentioned, had led to deaths and injuries among her people. This was her first experience with it. If only it were so easy to cure as Elluin's fright from her first experience with battle, when she was clawed by one of the cursed Orcs in the Battle of the Unseen Army. But Gaelang was powerless at his side in the face of this feeling.

Anything he could do to help, however, would have to wait. The sun was westering.

~.~.~

"My queen, welcome home!" Edlenel cried. "How worried we were, all of us, when we learned that you had gone off to that settlement."

Elluin mumbled a simple greeting and surrendered herself to the care of her body servants, allowing Naudeth to undress her while Edlenel chattered on and finished preparing the bath.

"Such a terrible thing that the Men were so beset by the plague," the young servant continued. "And then the blatant opportunism of those warriors from Rhun! We were very relieved, indeed, when that soldier brought word that the battle was won and that you had stopped the plague from killing any more of the townspeople."

"There were still some that were beyond our aid," Elluin answered wearily, stepping into the small tub.

"Oh yes, I forget that their bodies are too weak even to stay in Arda for long. And I am sorry for it," Edlenel said. "But many lives were saved, indeed, by you and the king. One life does not pay for another, I know, but considering that we only lost half a dozen of our own, and the Men of Stony Bend would surely have lost many more than that without the aid you and the king, I would say that it was a worthy sacrifice."

"Edlenel," Naudeth interrupted, seeing the strained look on her mistress's face, "perhaps the queen would like a cup of tea."

"Oh, of course." She settled a clean shift on a nearby bench before scuttling out the door.

Elluin sighed, then obediently held her breath as Naudeth poured a pitcher of water over her head.

"Forgive her, my queen," Naudeth said as she started working soap into Elluin's hair. "Edlenel has not yet realized how heavily the burden of our people's lives has settled onto your shoulders."

"I do not have time to think of that now," Elluin said resolutely.

"No," the servant agreed. "But when you do have time to reflect, my queen, I believe you will realize that you would have made the same decisions even had you known of the invading army."

"What?" Elluin furrowed her brows, her thoughts racing in calculative speculation, now, instead of lingering on the guilt and the grief.

"Perhaps you would not have gone yourself to the settlement, knowing the king would not approve," Naudeth guessed. "But you would still have sent the healers with the escort of soldiers to prevent needless death due to the illness, and you would have advised Thranduil to prevent our allies' defeat by the Men of Rhun by sending our army."

Elluin was quiet as she contemplated her servant's words, cooperating absently as Naudeth finished washing her, then helped her out to be dried. She was thoroughly distracted by the time Edlenel returned with a steaming pot of tea.

"Here, my queen. This will certainly make the world seem a little brighter," the young servant said encouragingly, carefully pouring out a cup. Elluin took it as soon as she had her shift on, and indulged in a few relaxed sips as Naudeth began working on her hair.

"Pedirion and a few of the council members are without, my lady," Edlenel informed her after a while. "They have found some information that might help you with the Men of Rhun."

Elluin looked up in astonishment. "I did not know there was any such information to be had."

"To be honest, my queen, Pedirion seemed very doubtful that it would be much help at all, because the books he used are so old," she added sadly. "But Lord Soronume said that in cases like these, anything is better than nothing."

The queen perked up further at the mention of her father's name. It was yet another source of encouragement knowing that both he and Thranduil were sharing the upcoming trial with her.

~.~.~

Thranduil cast a glance at his wife as she came through her dressing room door to join him in the receiving room. He noted with satisfaction that there were no signs of hard riding or a night spent caring for the sick and wounded. Elluin walked in without any hint of fatigue. She was richly but not too ostentatiously dressed, her golden hair gleamed, and a pair of delicate braids framed her face. For now, he decided to ignore just how beautiful he found her, lest the thought distract him. To his surprise, she had suppressed enough of her negative emotions for him to perceive mostly grim determination—the same she showed when meeting any other problem encountered in the course of her duties.

The Elves assembled in the room bowed when she entered. There were Pedirion, Cembeleg, Telior, and her parents, along with many other members of the council. Thranduil also rose, intentionally commanding Elluin's hand and drawing her close to him before she could think to keep her distance. As always, she welcomed the proximity, briefly meeting his gaze with eyes sparkling with affection.

He drew her over to sit in an armchair beside his own and gestured for the others to follow suit. Though this was not a particularly large room, there were at least benches and chairs enough to be comfortably pulled over for all to have a seat.

"What information have you found that may aid us?" Thranduil asked the council members.

Pedirion cleared his throat politely. "Sire, the library had some books from—"

"The information," Thranduil interrupted. The sun was setting; there was no time.

"Oh, of course." While the librarian's cheeks colored slightly, he lost no time in fumbling for words. He recounted as succinctly as he could what recommendations he could pull from the old texts.

Thranduil and Elluin shared a glance. This was going to be a challenge.

~.~.~

Stars were winking into view when a palace guard entered the throne room to announce the arrival of a party seeking audience with the rulers of Greenwood. Thranduil resisted the urge to call for his crown, feeling strangely underdressed with just his mithril circlet. He took comfort in the splendor at his side as partial compensation: Elluin was arrayed in so many jewels that there was no question as to the wealth of the realm.

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, she turned to him. She allowed her eyes to wander slowly and deliberately over him, from the fine braids in his silvery hair, over the elegantly embroidered sleekness of his robes, down to the soles of his soft gray boots. At last, Elluin sent him a tiny smirk. Thranduil felt his face heating, entirely distracted from the situation—so much that he nearly started when the doors of the throne room were opened. The Elvenking quickly composed himself, shooting his mischievous wife a weightlessly reproachful glance before turning his attention to the group entering the room.

Galion entered first, his face as serene as always, though Thranduil could tell from the stiffness of his steward's shoulders that the newcomers made him nervous. He cleared his throat with all the dignity of his station and announced in the Common Tongue, "King Thranduil, Queen Elluin, I present Lady Gudrun, leader of the tribe of Men of Rhun with whom we trade, and her companions."

A short, broad woman entered the throne room. Her garments were deep crimson and beige and draped over her olive skin in a way that accentuated the strength of her arms, which were bare below the elbow. Many strings of beads hung around her person, creating a faint rattling sound with each sure step she took toward the center of the throne room. The beads were colorful and polished, bright as the dark eyes with which she studied Greenwood's sovereigns with mirthful curiosity. The others filed in and came to stand silently behind Gudrun, turning their faces to the floor after casting surreptitious glances at the Elves. There was a gray-haired elderly couple, a boy of maybe ten years, and a man in his prime. They wore beads only around their necks, though their clothing was of the same apparent high quality as the lady's, and the man wore a chestplate of armor emblazoned with a device like the moon reflected in rippling water.

"We welcome you to Greenwood the Great," Thranduil said, forcing his face into a pleasant smile.

Gudrun nodded once, seeming satisfied. Her voice was somewhat raspy as she spoke, but her tone was melodious. She spoke slowly, taking her time with words in a tongue that she obviously did not use often. "We are very happy to be here. Thank you for your welcome."

"Will you accept our hospitality and dine with us now, Lady Gudrun?" Elluin said, and gestured with one hand, heavy with jeweled chains and rings, to a long table set at the back of the room.

"Yes," was the Woman's simple reply, and she and her silent companions seated themselves without any additional ceremony.

Thranduil and Elluin exchanged another glance, mild surprise and relief shared in their eyes. It appeared that Pedirion's research would be of use to them, after all. Thranduil took Elluin's hand and led her to join their guests at the table, mentally preparing himself for the next challenge.