Winter had cast a blanket of snow over Greenwood. Ice crystals clung to bare tree branches and glittered in the weak but cheery midday sun. Birds ruffled their feathers as they hopped from twig to twig chirping gaily, to the delight of three Elves clad in pale green palace uniforms settled in some bushes close to the Old Forest Road. Dinen had sent Elluin, Maethon, and Turiel to collect new shoots of greenbrier. The hardy plant poked arrogantly up through the snow, flaunting its vibrant green leaves into a forest dominated by bright white and the muted browns and grays of winter.
"The trees slumber," Turiel observed, looking up at an old birch. "It is well, for I am certain they would be jealous of this little plant."
"I hardly think so," Maethon replied. "It is bound for the table."
"Only in part," said Elluin practically, cutting off another piece of the tender stalk. "Though that birch looks ready to burst with sap. We shall have to return, with buckets instead of baskets."
Maethon sighed in resignation, tossing another handful of shoots into his load. "Elluin, you never give orders explicitly, but it seems you are ever giving us more work to do."
Turiel laughed. "Maethon, I think you're right! But they are worthy pursuits, always."
"Thank you, Turiel, for your defense." Elluin bowed her head at her friend and smiled at Maethon's gentle teasing. She could not help but reply. "Maethon, am I to understand you do not enjoy working for the king?"
"Being one of the king's body servants is the honor of my life," he said somberly. "However, I would rather be holding my harp instead of this basket. These quiet winters seem to beg for a tune." He reached into the greenbrier again and winced. "And my harp has no thorns!"
"This greenbrier and that sap are part of the meals for us, the court members, and the king," Turiel said. "Imagine what would happen if we did not gather from the forest."
"No sweet cakes, and a smaller plate at dinner," Maethon said obstinately. "As long as we have something in our belly once in a while, as Elves, we will endure at least until spring. I say, let us all to our warm hearths."
Elluin shook her head. "Maethon, you will change your tune once you taste your dinner tonight. Dinen said that along with the stew, we are to have spiced beech nut oil with this greenbrier and the last of the autumn berries."
"There are still berries left?" The excitement in Maethon's voice could not be mistaken, and the ellith indulged in a laugh at their companion's expense.
Their laughter faded when they heard the distant approach of a small group of horses. Turiel stood and walked to the birch tree.
"Elves," she confirmed after a moment. "But they are strangers."
They walked the short distance to the edge of the Old Forest Road and waited for the riders to approach. There were four mounted ellyn dressed in riding clothes colored cream, red, and gold. They were trotting leisurely and talking between them, looking around with interest. Drawing near to the three palace workers, they slowed their mounts and the foremost Elf raised his hand in greeting.
"Hail, people of Greenwood," he said pleasantly in Sindarin. "We are your kindred from Rivendell. We come with a message for the Elvenking from our lord."
Elluin felt her companions tense at her side. As Silvan Elves, they would take a while to accept even Elven newcomers, as she had experienced herself. However, since she had spent her youth in the Grey Havens, she was accustomed to people from different realms coming and going.
"Hail, messengers of Lord Elrond. Welcome to Greenwood the Great," she answered in the same language. "King Thranduil's palace is close, as I am sure the guards along the way have told you."
"Indeed, fair friend," he replied. "I am Lindir."
"Elluin, at your service." She bowed her head briefly.
"Ah, well that is pleasant news, indeed! Is it not, friends?" Grinning, Lindir turned to the much younger three Elves behind him, who sat quietly with slightly awed expressions on their faces.
Recognizing Lindir for a tease, Elluin continued. "My companions and I are on the palace staff, and will be happy to serve any guests of the Elvenking."
"Lovely words, and a lovely elleth. I am certainly eager to see what other charms King Thranduil has been hiding here."
Elluin smiled kindly. "Good sir, are all the Elves of Rivendell such flirts?" Elluin readjusted her hold on her basket. Lindir took the hint that there were tasks to complete.
"Alas, that is a trait I alone may claim," Lindir replied with a smile of his own. "But I see my efforts are better spent elsewhere. I thank you for your welcome, fair maiden. I hope we shall see you at the palace." After a brief bow in his saddle, he nodded to his companions and they continued at a trot down the path.
When they were out of sight, Maethon shook his head. "I would have asked them more questions."
"You should have been a guard," Elluin retorted with a smile. "Come, we will need an extra few handfuls of greenbrier shoots if we are to host our visiting kin for dinner tonight."
Maethon groaned but hurried back to the bushes with his companions to resume their task. "The sooner we finish, the sooner I can go to my harp," he said mostly to himself.
Entering the throne room where the king stood awaiting them, the messengers bowed.
"King Thranduil, we bring greetings from Lord Elrond of Rivendell," Lindir began.
Thranduil inclined his head. "I welcome his messengers to Greenwood."
With the official introduction complete, Lindir continued less formally. "Elvenking, it brings me joy to see you in the comfort and prosperity of your realm. We parted in a place that, even in its defeat, was much darker."
Thranduil smiled at the Elf before him as his mind traveled back to centuries ago. Lindir had been in the service of the High King, Gil-galad, along with Elrond during the War of the Last Alliance. During council meetings between the Elven lords, Lindir was often present and acted as a messenger between the different forces during battles. He and Thranduil were close in age and had become friends during the course of the war.
"I am thankful indeed to be among the trees where my heart has ever rested, Lindir," Thranduil replied. "It is my belief that the companionship within the Elven forces on the Dagorlad provided the encouragement we needed to maintain the siege for so many years. I am glad to renew the fellowship now, in a time of peace. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. I trust you will be dining with us this evening."
"We thank the king for his hospitality," Lindir answered with a bow. "In fact, the purpose of our visit is to extend the same. The message I bear from Lord Elrond is an invitation for our kin in Greenwood to journey to Rivendell. My lord's daughter, Arwen, has come of age, and he is also eager for the king to meet his two older sons, Elrohir and Elladan. It is my lord's wish that the Elven realms of Middle Earth maintain and strengthen their ties, even as we rest in victory."
Thranduil took just a moment to consider, then smiled. "It would be a privilege to travel to Rivendell. For the sake of our horses, we shall wait for the snows to melt on the low pass in the Misty Mountains before we travel."
The four Elves bowed, having received the answer to their message. Lindir then continued. "My lord's wife, Lady Celebrian, expressed a particular wish to see her cousin, Lady Anarrima."
"I am certain my aunt would be delighted to join me, as well as a few other members of my court."
"We shall inform Lord Elrond to expect our honored guests from Greenwood in the spring. With the king's permission, we shall depart in four days."
Thranduil walked down the steps of his throne to clasp arms with his old friend and nod personably to his three companions.
"My steward, Galion, will ensure you have everything you need. I shall see you at the feast tonight."
The messengers withdrew and Galion pointed out an ellon for them to follow to their rooms.
"Sire," Galion ventured once the door closed, "I shall have musicians in the courtyard this evening. I expect my king would like to show our visitors some of Greenwood's Silvan charm."
Thranduil smiled in response. "Good. And inform General Cembeleg that Lindir is here. They are also old friends."
Word spread quickly throughout the palace that the king had welcomed the newcomers to the realm. The Silvans just as quickly abandoned their reservations and enthusiastically prepared for a feast that evening. Maethon was glad of his assignment to play his harp alongside other musicians. Elluin and Turiel were among those selected to wait on the head table.
The wine, music, and starlight set a festive and relaxed mood. Thranduil and Cembeleg sat beside Lindir, reminiscing and laughing. The other three Elves ate more quietly, contentedly observing the Silvans in their merrymaking. In a lull in conversation during which Elluin filled wine goblets for the table, one of them turned to Lindir to speak softly to him. "What a strangely beautiful kingdom. I can feel the Elven magic, but it is much more…natural here than at home."
Thranduil smiled, having overheard. Lindir answered his companion. "You are right, young Peniadir. The Elves of Greenwood make their own magic. Perhaps when you are older, you may learn why it feels different from Rivendell."
Still looking around in wonder, Peniadir asked, "Is the Greenwood magic what makes the ellith here so beautiful?"
The older ellyn laughed heartily. General Cembeleg answered the blushing ellon, "That would be the wine!"
Peniadir looked suspiciously at his goblet, hardly touched, then at Elluin and Turiel who were standing nearby.
"That is not so," he announced defensively. "We saw Elluin and her friend by the road before we even arrived at the palace, and I thought even then that they were two of the most beautiful ellith I had ever seen...aside from Lady Arwen."
"That is high praise," Lindir chuckled and turned to Thranduil and Cembeleg. "Lady Arwen is said to bear the likeness of her ancestor, Luthien."
"Truly?" Thranduil asked. "Now I am even more eager to visit Rivendell. If the eldest of my court members are to be believed, Luthien was the most beautiful of the Children of Iluvatar. My aunt will have to confirm whether Arwen resembles her."
Lindir's expression sobered. "It surprised me that Lord Elrond invited so many to see her. It seems he usually tries to keep her a secret from the rest of the world. Since she was born, he has increased the guard on our borders." Lindir said.
Cembeleg nodded with approval. "It is right for him to protect the young lady."
Lindir's voice dropped. "As you both know, his friendliness with other races and his...unique abilities make Rivendell a more secure place than others, but the guards remain ever vigilant." His tone grew lighter and louder. "The guards of Greenwood, I must confess, were rather brusque. Elluin gave us a much more courteous welcome than they did. And kind words are even more charming coming from such a beauty as she." He looked with a teasing grin at where she stood nearby.
Thranduil waved Elluin over. Blushing, she came to curtsy beside his chair. "Elluin, you were a fine representative of Greenwood to our friends today. I thank you."
"My king and his guests are too kind," she replied. As she withdrew, she briefly furrowed disapproving brows at Lindir over her shoulder. Unabashed, he raised his glass in a silent toast to her.
General Cembeleg spoke again. "Well, if it is not the wine making the ellith of Greenwood especially beautiful, it could be the novelty. Young Peniadir must be tired of the faces of Rivendell. The only way to find out is to see all the faces of Greenwood."
Thranduil nodded. "Then there must be dancing," he said decisively. He motioned toward the musicians, who immediately took up a lively tune and melody. Clear Silvan voices rang out through the courtyard and the forest beyond with joviality that seemed to be reflected in the starlight and the glistening of the icicles hanging from the trees.
Come and be welcome, O friends from the Valley
Bringing your message from mountains to trees
Be you rider or runner, your duty is noble
You carry the words that set hearts all at ease
Come from the forest and sit 'round the fire
Come from the meadows and enter our hall
Come drink from the guest-cup and join in our circle
Come and be welcome ye Elves, one and all
The four messengers from Rivendell required no further encouragement to join the merrymaking. Soon, court members and Silvan residents were leading them in the spinning paces of the dance. As they became more adept with the steps, the song continued.
*Come and be welcome, O fair-voicèd singer
Weaving the magic of music along
You can thunder the heavens to raise up an army
Or simply bring laughter and peace with a song
Come and be welcome, O rare tale-teller
With stories of wonder you wisely recall
Now tell of the heroes who dwell in our history
For tales that are true are the best of them all
Come from the forest and sit 'round the fire
Come from the meadows and enter our hall
Come drink from the guest-cup and join in our circle
Come and be welcome ye Elves, one and all
Since the song did not require a harp, Maethon had set aside his instrument for a while and came to find Elluin and Turiel some distance from the dancing.
"You still smile," he said to Elluin. "I did not think you would be susceptible to Lindir's flattery."
Elluin scoffed. "His talents are ill-spent with me, I think."
Turiel smiled knowingly. "Maethon, you should know by now that Elluin is immune to any ordinary ellon's advances. And the source of her expression is there before you, dancing in his royal robes."
The color drained from Elluin's face. Maethon put his arms around her shoulders and sighed, looking past the tables to the courtyard at the dancers. "Ah, yes. She hides it so well that I had nearly forgotten."
Turiel chuckled at her friend's discomfort. "Elluin, worry not. Maethon and I are your friends, and you do not escape our notice, despite your efforts. And we have had occasion to observe you in...a certain Elf's presence."
Elluin fought the urge to run away and found herself distantly thankful for Maethon's gentle hold on her. "You will not say anything?" she asked them softly.
"What is there to say? We all love the king, in our own ways." Maethon said, ever practical. "But he must know. When will you tell him?"
Elluin hung her head. "I cannot."
Turiel pursed her lips. Her disapproval was obvious in her tone. "Elluin, if he could be your bond-mate, both of you are deprived of joy if you delay."
"What if he is not?" she asked, her distress evident in her eyes while she kept her voice quiet. "I would be shamed. I would have to leave the palace and be sundered from...everyone I have come to love here."
"You are letting fear govern you," Maethon accused.
Elluin stared dismally at the dancing Elves. "You are right." She made no further response.
Turiel huffed. "It appears nothing will happen anytime soon, Maethon. Elluin, perhaps you should go back to the kitchens to help with the washing up."
Elluin nodded. "You are both dear friends and your counsel is wise," she said. "I thank you for it."
"Heed us," Maethon urged. "And hear this also: even if you do not find your courage in the kitchens, you had better find more berries and bring them back for me."
* Adapted from the song "Come and Be Welcome" by Heather Dale.