47 - The Second-Born
Thranduil summoned his housekeeper to his chambers a few days later. The official reason for the meeting was to ascertain from her that her father Soronume and the Silvans traveling with him to Rivendell started on their journey that morning without incident. Unofficially, he was simply eager to spend more time with Elluin. While he had been seeing her nearly every day during council meetings, it was simply not enough — especially since he would be leaving the palace himself in just two short days.
"Well met, mistress of the household," Thranduil greeted her warmly as she walked past Sulros into the room.
"Good afternoon, my king," she replied with a curtsy and an answering smile.
Soon, Thranduil dismissed Sulros and seated himself and Elluin on their customary armchairs. He asked her about the start of her father's journey.
"The whole group was optimistic," she answered, pouring them both a cup of tea. "I am personally grateful that you sent Captain Telior with them, Thranduil." She pegged him with a thankful look. "I do not anticipate any dangers on the road, but I appreciate the protection that the captain and his guards would provide to my father and the others if anything were to happen."
Thranduil was about to protest that he would have done the same for anyone on a diplomatic voyage. But they both knew that five guards and the captain was rather more than was necessary for four Silvans and a Sinda to travel on a road that had been without enemies for over two centuries.
"I have a personal stake in their safe return," he decided to say, taking her hand to squeeze it.
The affection in her eyes called to him, and he leaned forward, silently asking permission to kiss her.
A knock on the door quickly dashed that hope, and his brow creased slightly in frustration as he leaned back and called, "Enter."
Sulros scurried in, eyes wide in surprise. "A small band of Men has come to the palace from the East requesting an audience."
Both of them rose immediately.
"They appear friendly," Sulros continued soothingly, moving to bring the king's crown from where it was stowed. "They simply came to request news."
"Why was I not informed of their approach?" Thranduil demanded, allowing his servant to prepare him while Elluin regretfully packed up the tea tray again.
Sulros masked his reluctance to respond by fussing with the collar of the king's robe for a moment before he muttered, "We thought it best not to bother the king unless it was absolutely necessary."
Thranduil raised a brow at Sulros, his disappointment in the omission just barely overshadowed by his curiosity over what he realized to be his servants' scheming to give him more free time. Sulros continued to avoid the king's gaze as he finished his preparations.
"They are waiting to meet you in the throne room, sire," Sulros mentioned, stepping back.
Thranduil decided to set aside the urge to question his body servant about his covert plans and took a breath, turning to the elleth who had been inching toward the door. "Elluin, you will accompany me," Thranduil commanded.
"Yes, sire," she responded immediately with a bow of her head. "May I recommend," she continued boldly, "that another of your council also be summoned to attend?"
Thranduil cast her a questioning glance even as he held out his arm to her.
"Should this matter require further attention after you leave on patrol, it would not be seemly for the housekeeper to be the only representative of the kingdom able to act on the king's behalf," she explained, falling in step with him as Sulros held the door open.
Again, Thranduil was about to protest and say that she would be perfectly capable of handling anything on her own. But he recognized the wisdom of Elluin's words. The council members did have wisdom and knowledge to share, though she had the greater experience in dealing with the Second-Born Children of Iluvatar. And she would gain more favor in the court if she were not seen to attempt bypassing them in making decisions that could impact the kingdom.
"You are wise, indeed, lady," he murmured to her with an adoring smile.
~.~.~
The light of the mid-afternoon sun lit the Elvenking's throne room through the high windows, falling softly across polished wooden floors, a royal Elf and his attendants, and five Men. Occasionally, the Men's glances shifted nervously between the motionless Elven guards standing close by at attention, and the single elleth in the room standing casually beside another Elven lord at the bottom of the steps to the throne.
Her gown was modest and finely made, of a deep blue color that accentuated the brightness of her eyes as she studied them benignly. Such beauty was not beheld in the world of Men. And though the shape of her body was similar to what was seen in the young women of their own village, it was instantly and jarringly obvious to them that it was no mortal standing before them. Her form, though slender, gave no hint of frailty. In fact, she seemed to radiate a strength and vitality that seemed to be echoed in the very trees surrounding the palace. She seemed to possess the same observant, steady spirit of the forest, her breaths barely perceptible, her feet planted on the ground in a way that seemed unshakable and yet also giving the impression that she was floating, like boughs reaching unerringly into the sky.
Equally captivating was the sight of the Elvenking who stood before his throne to greet them. His richly embroidered robes flowed from strong shoulders to billow around him and trail at his feet, and though the garment hid much of his body, his strength seemed to radiate from him in waves. The Men expected that, given any provocation, he could spring down from his throne and have a knife at their throats before they could blink. Thranduil's wise, crystal blue eyes were fathomless wells that pierced into them from beneath a determined brow.
Galion, who had ushered the Men in and entered behind them, broke the silence with his lilting Westron. "King Thranduil, I present Garren, son of Chieftain Borgel of the Men whose village lies on the River Running, and his companions."
"Welcome to Greenwood," Thranduil said coolly.
"Thank you, your majesty," said the Man who stood a step closer to the throne than the others. His dark hair swayed past his jaw as he bowed. His voice rang out clearly despite the unease he revealed in the tension of his shoulders.
Thranduil's eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly at the strange address, and took it for a custom among Men. He settled himself onto his throne. "I am told you wish for news."
"Yes, your majesty. We have noticed an increase in traffic of Dwarves on the northern plains, between your majesty's realm and the mountains. There have also been laden rafts coming and going out of Rhun. We wondered if there was any unrest we should be aware of that would require the renewal of the old alliances or if, perhaps, the Elven kingdom has relinquished its sovereignty over the Greenwood."
Garren saw a flash in the Elvenking's eyes and realized his latter comment was taken as an insult. But before he could even start to apologize, the elleth took a small step forward from beside her silent companion, moving as gracefully as a cloud in the breeze. Strangely, the Elvenking seemed to abandon his ire as his eyes fell on her. "I present Lady Elluin, an advisor of my court," he said.
"Master Garren," the lady began, and her voice, clear and melodic as a trickling stream, nearly distracted the Man completely from the message. "I am happy to inform you that Greenwood the Great maintains both its security and its sovereignty. However, this past spring, the Dark Lord showed his hand once again, attacking two of the Elven realms with the goal of causing dissension between our people and the Dwarves of Khazad-dum."
Shocked murmurs rose from the visitors at the lady's words.
"Fortunately, the Enemy seems to have forgotten the Elven gifts," Elluin continued. "Though we still grieve our losses, they were fewer than they could have been. And instead of war, King Thranduil now has an alliance with King Droin of the Dwarves. He has also established trade with the Men in the Dorwinion region. It is for this reason you see more traffic between our realms."
"Has the Dark Lord truly risen again?" Garren asked, a note of disbelief and despair in his tone. "Our tales tell of a complete defeat in the war so long ago."
"He was defeated, but not destroyed," Thranduil said, his regret evident as his gaze wandered toward the south, bending his thoughts past the palace walls, the forest, and the vast lands between, towards Mordor. "While we routed the Dark Lord's forces and annihilated his physical form, his spirit endured."
Garren was forcibly reminded that the beings before him were ancient. His people had known of Elvenking Thranduil for many generations before he was even born. The Elf must have seen so much of the changing of the world. Garren realized that whatever conclusion the Elf drew, was likely correct. He shuddered.
"Are our peoples to prepare for war again?" he asked, a little more quietly than he intended.
Thranduil shot his eyes to the Man, refocusing on the here and now. A glimmer of sympathy softened his gaze. "No," he said. "The Elven lords are agreed that this failed attempt has once again depleted any power he has been able to muster since his fall. It took him over three centuries to gather it; many lives of Men will pass before the Dark Lord poses any serious threat again."
Garren was unable to dismiss the cautiously hopeful undercurrent of the king's words. He thought for a moment before he spoke again, attempting to push past his discouragement to instill some friendliness into his demeanor. "Nevertheless, it is certainly not too early to strengthen ties between our people and the Woodland Realm against such a threat, for the lives of Men may be short in the eyes of an Elf, but I count our future generations as worthy of such measures."
Thranduil gave a solemn nod, inviting the Man to continue.
"I have been authorized by my Chieftain to suggest some items that may interest the Elvenking, to offer in trade."
The Elf lord beside Elluin that had been silent until now also took a step forward, and glanced at the king.
"This is Lord Derion, another of my advisors," Thranduil said.
Derion appeared to hold less grace than the lady, and less strength than the Elvenking, but was just as intimidating in his otherworldliness and the way he seemed to look straight through the Men, disregarding their souls in recognition of their brevity. Yet compassion was in his eyes, also, inherent to his being.
"Before King Thranduil agrees to any trade relationship, we would ask what you would wish to gain from the Elves," Derion said pragmatically.
"We have heard that there are talented healers among the Elves," Garren said immediately. "It is rumored that some of the ailments that may prove deadly to some among my people can be easily remedied by Elven herbcraft."
None of the Elves moved, continuing to study the Men without providing any confirmation or denial.
Garren cleared his throat uneasily. "We can, of course, detail the specific symptoms. But we would also find use for what can be gathered in the forest — hunting rights, perhaps, or any food that would help us through the winter."
The Man suddenly felt a great deal more inferior even than before. Elves, it was said, did not suffer from diseases or the cold, and were much hardier against hunger.
"Master Garren," Elluin broke in, "did you bring any of the items you would trade for the king to examine?"
The Man found it a remarkable kindness for her to redirect the conversation from his people's weaknesses to their assets. "Certainly, my lady," he said, and gestured to the Men behind him. "I bring wheat from our fields, and some examples of how we use it. We also have cheeses and butter from our cattle."
Elluin quickly turned to give instructions in the Silvan tongue to the servant waiting by the wall, and soon a table and chairs were brought in, allowing Thranduil and Garren to sit while the Man and Elf discussed and sampled the offerings. Elluin, Derion, and Galion were sometimes given tastes of the fare, as well. They observed and discussed their observations quietly among themselves, standing apart from the table until invited to approach. Overhearing their conversation, Thranduil occasionally nodded or shook his head to agree or disagree. Garren fought not to show how disconcerting it was that the Elvenking could follow their whispering from such a distance.
The afternoon had turned into evening by the time Thranduil waved a hand for the table to be cleared and rose.
"Master Garren, I am willing to entertain the possibility of trade with your people," the Elvenking announced. "Allow me the evening to discuss with my council. Lords Galion and Derion and Lady Elluin will negotiate as my representatives."
"Certainly, your majesty," he replied with a bow of his head.
"Allow us to offer our hospitality until matters are concluded," Elluin said. "We have had guest rooms prepared for you, where the evening meal awaits you."
A relieved sigh escaped from one of the older Men at the back of the hall, revealing that they had been uncertain of such an invitation. Garren bowed his thanks to hide a wince, and the group was soon herded off behind a servant, trailed by a precautionary pair of Elven guards.
Thranduil turned expectantly to the trio of council members, gesturing for them to speak.
"They seem an honest lot," Galion observed.
"I was rather fond of the butter, sire," Derion broke in unabashedly.
"As was I," the Elvenking admitted. "Especially accompanying the bread they made of the wheat, though I imagine it would be rather fine on our walnut bread, as well. Elluin?"
"I can have a space cleared in a cool pantry easily enough, sire," she said with a smile. "I think Dinen would be happy to discover all its uses. I will confirm with Gwedhil, but I believe the healing rooms would be well able to relinquish some of their stock of remedies depending on the Men's needs."
The discussion continued for a while longer as they considered all they would be willing to trade for which of the offered goods. Once they reached an outline, Galion insisted the king join his aunt, who was awaiting him for dinner. The Elvenking and the housekeeper managed to hide their disappointment as they separated for the night.
~.~.~
"Aunt, I know I need not ask," Thranduil said at the end of the meal, "for you have ever been my champion. But while I am gone, will you —"
"Yes, my dear nephew," Anarrima interrupted, setting a soothing hand on Thranduil's across the table, "I will keep an eye on Lady Elluin. I will ensure her voice is heard in the council. She will have everything she needs."
"Thank you," he breathed in relief. "I doubt not that she could overcome any obstacle presented here, given her intelligence and love for the kingdom. But as we both know, it is much easier done with allies."
"Of course. That said, you must take care on this patrol."
Thranduil managed not to roll his eyes. "Half the soldiers in the kingdom are coming with me," he said. The fact that this was only slightly an exaggeration was obviously a source of annoyance. He pegged his companion with an affectionate look. "I worry more for those I leave behind."
"You need not," Anarrima answered simply. "Think instead of what you will do once you are back at the palace." Her smile held a hint of mischief that Thranduil could not help but return.