Eventually, the Silvans became accustomed enough to Mithrandir's presence in the palace, following the lead of their sovereigns in accepting him as a friend. Most of the Elves of Greenwood could not see any reason for this friendship. However, they were eventually convinced after seeing that the old man was so frequently invited to share meals with the royal family.
Galion was asked to serve personally during these meals, given the sensitive subject matter often discussed. Mithrandir spoke of his visits to the fractured kingdoms of Men in the wake of the fall of Arnor. He spoke of the darkening of the Mountains of Angmar and his difficulties in Rhudaur to counsel the Men there to build a force to resist it. He reported some of the counsel he had shared with Elrond and Glorfindel regarding rumors heard of the Enemy and their frustration that nothing was certain.
Trust was not, however, absolute between the old man and the Elves. Thranduil and Elluin mentioned nothing to him of the extent of their network of bird messengers, which had already informed them of the state of the surrounding kingdoms. They also gave no hint of the wealth they had accumulated, though they did share other basic facts about their trade relationships with surrounding groups of Men and Dwarves. The latter particularly pleased their guest, and he was earnest in expressing his approval and praising their wisdom.
Sensing, however, that there were some themes of their discussions that the Elven rulers preferred not to divulge to others, Mithrandir was careful not to ask to speak with any of the other royal advisors, content to let the king and queen decide what information they wished them to know. Similarly, Legolas kept a respectful distance with the visitor for the first few days. On the third, however, he asked for his parents' indulgence for a few moments after a council meeting before starting his assigned duties in the barracks.
"I do not mean to question your reasoning, father," he began easily, "but even since your first audience with Mithrandir, I have noticed that you have kept secret from me some of what has passed in your conversations with him."
Thranduil pursed his lips, settling back into his chair as Elluin cast him an uncomfortable glance. "I do not deny it, my son," Thranduil said. "We have received notice of some foresight with which you are not yet to be burdened."
There was a note of finality in his father's words that Legolas did not show any desire to contest. The Elf prince had always been driven more by the feelings he perceived than from words or expectations, with people of all races as much as with rock and tree. He could therefore sense his parents' nervousness on his behalf, and concluded it was best for them all if he did not ask to know more. "I see," he said. "I admit I am curious, but I think you have taught me enough wisdom not to wish for what could potentially be harmful, in the end."
Elluin nodded her confirmation of her son's assessment, relieved that he would not press them for answers. The knowledge that he would eventually travel to Mordor would not help him succeed there. Furthermore, she and Thranduil felt that since they did not know under what circumstances the journey would come to pass, speculation from any party familiar with the prophecy could yield unfortunate ends.
"But I wonder if I may take some time to speak a little more with our guest?" Legolas suggested hopefully. He spoke more quickly with excitement as he continued, "I hear he has been to Arthedain, Cardolan, and Rhudaur, and all the old seats of Arnor. And you have told me of Lothlorien and Mithlond, but you have not visited yourselves in centuries and I wish to hear what the cities are like now. He has seen…" Legolas broke off, seeming almost embarrassed. "...more than I have."
Elluin smiled and decided to tease him to lighten the tension of the atmosphere. "What is this? Your studies in Rivendell have not satisfied your curiosity of the world?"
He looked up at her and quickly realized her jest, throwing her a bright smile of his own. "I have no wish to leave Greenwood," he told them. "But I know he will have some interesting tales."
Thranduil sighed indulgently, his lips curved with fondness. He cast a meaningful look at Elluin before he spoke. "You may have whatever stories Mithrandir would share with you, with my blessing," he said. Both he and his wife trusted that the old man was wise enough not to share more than he ought. "I also trust your judgment to weigh any advice he may give. You have your own head on your shoulders. In fact, Legolas, I would be grateful if you would help him understand the Silvan lifestyle a little better when you speak. He seems to think that the Noldor influence in Amroth's court has not, in fact, made a difference in the way of life of Lothlorien's citizens." Thranduil raised his chin slightly in pride. "For all the reported beauty of the Golden Wood, it has neglected its most ancient roots."
"Yes, father," Legolas said with a grin.
~.~.~
A Silvan elleth came skidding to a halt at the door to the minor dining room where the royal family was dining again with their guest. Thranduil and Legolas stiffened in alarm.
"Forgive the intrusion, my king," she said with a salute, quickly calming the rapid breathing obvious beneath her leather armor.
"Achariel," he said, recognizing her instantly "What is it?"
"We have had a report sent by bird messenger, sire, from the southern patrols. General Cembeleg said it was not urgent yet, but thought it best the king was informed immediately."
Thranduil held out his hand expectantly, and Achariel obediently handed over a small roll of parchment, stepping back with what he saw was a grim expression on her face. No doubt her mother, Turiel, had apprised her of the message's contents. He did not take offense at it; Achariel had proven herself a capable captain. Turiel herself was now one of the primary Silvan advisors for the realm, though she refused an official seat at the council table in favor of maintaining a focus on the forest itself. The matter must not be so grave as all that for Turiel to divulge the information to her daughter, Thranduil decided. Nevertheless, he was apprehensive as he unrolled the page.
He scanned it quickly before addressing the table, his brows creased in confusion. "A new species of spider has installed itself in the Greenwood," he summarized. "A series of webs has been found just north of the Narrows, along with some of the prey."
"What prey?" Elluin asked.
"Rabbits and deer, up to now."
"Deer? These spiders are so powerful as to take down an animal of that size?" Legolas broke in, his body tense. It seemed he was ready to take his own patrol south immediately.
"It appears so. What else have you heard, Achariel?" Thranduil knew she had the amiable intelligence of her father and the resourceful intuition of her mother, and would certainly know it if there was anything else to hear.
"Sire, the spider venom seems to be quite potent," the elleth answered immediately. "The animal victims were found hanging in webs. Those that could be extracted each had a bite mark and no other notable injuries. The tracks suggest that the prey was captured quite far from where they were first bitten, with very little struggle the bodies were dragged to the spider nests. They are very strong beasts, my king."
"I see," Thranduil murmured, then thoughtfully put down the report. He snapped his eyes to their guest. "What do you make of this, Mithrandir?"
The old man's brows were drawn in grave contemplation. He sat for a moment in thought. Thranduil thought distantly that this was one of the many traits that separated their visitor from the Men they had dealt with in the past, for the patience and thought he sometimes showed before making his replies was more akin to Elven nature. The otherness of the man, along with the wholesome feeling he and Elluin sensed from him, counted much toward his favor with the throne.
Mithrandir looked suddenly up at them. "I wonder if I may accompany whatever scouts I presume you will send to investigate the matter?" he said seriously. "I have not heard of such beasts on the Hither Shores since…" he broke off mumbling, but everyone around the table knew he referred to Ungoliant's travels to Middle Earth with Morgoth before the first rising of the Sun and Moon.
"Yes," Thranduil decided. "You will accompany me and my son." Legolas nodded once enthusiastically, though his face remained stern. He turned to the soldier. "Achariel, notify Cembeleg to plan a patrol for two days hence and then report to me. And have Turiel prepare messengers to bring with us."
"Yes, sire." She saluted crisply and left.
"Please forgive the interruption of our dinner, Mithrandir," Elluin said once the door had shut behind her.
"Oh, no, it's quite alright," he answered. "I appreciate the news, to be sure. I admit I am eager to see these creatures."
"My hope is that they will not be a threat to the few Elves remaining in the area," Legolas mentioned after a sip of wine. "But given the growing darkness in the southern forest, I fear that may not be the case."
"How long do you think you will be gone?" Elluin asked Thranduil.
"Two weeks, at the very least. I suspect we will scout past the Bight, as well." He gave Elluin a glance that meant he would speak more to her on the topic when they were in private, and she answered with a nod.
"I had planned to travel to Gondor after my stay here," Mithrandir said. "If I may prevail upon you for supplies, I can leave directly at the end of the patrol."
"We will see to it that you have all you need," Elluin confirmed.
"Shall we adjourn to my office?" Thranduil said with a look first to Legolas then to Mithrandir, noting that everyone had stopped eating. "We can consult our maps and other scouting reports to determine our patrol route, and the road you will take to Gondor."
~.~.~
Elluin lay staring at the ceiling for a long while before Thranduil came to join her in their bed. She could not help her mournful expression as she turned to him, her hand sliding automatically over the fine material of his nightshirt as he came to lie beside her.
"Are you truly leaving again so soon?" she said—uselessly, as they both knew.
"Yes, my heart," he said indulgently, stroking her hair as he looked at her with the same emotion. "You know I would much rather stay here with you, enjoying your presence." To prove his point, he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair, sighing deeply as she arranged her arms around him.
"I know you must go," she said in resignation, taking temporary comfort from his closeness. "But I shall miss you."
Thranduil stayed silent for an uncharacteristically long time, motionless as he held her, looking toward the window. She looked at him questioningly. "What is it, my love?"
"I have spoken to you of this sense of foreboding that has plagued me increasingly in the last weeks," he said quietly after a moment, not yet meeting her gaze. "I feel that these spiders are somehow connected. I feel they are a threat to us. To you."
"What?" She pulled back slightly to study his face, but Thranduil still did not move.
"Would it be cowardly to ask you to remain in the palace?"
Her brows furrowed in disbelief. But given his grave expression, she could not find it in herself to dismiss the idea outright. She lazily followed the line of his collarbone with her fingertips. "We will be moving to the new palace eventually," she said. "I shall have to leave at some point."
He sighed in frustration. "You're right, of course."
"I can make arrangements to stay here for the near future, if you wish," she said, eager to allay his fears.
Thranduil's eyes were sad but grateful when he finally met her gaze again. "I do wish it," he said. "But I do not command it."
"Ah, but you know I can deny you nothing you desire," she reminded him, snuggling into his chest. "There is plenty for me to do here without leaving the walls, even should I spend the next century here."
He looked at her thoughtfully. "You are too good to me, my heart."
"I can be better," Elluin said suggestively, lowering her hands. They both knew it for a weak distraction. But in that moment, neither minded.
~.~.~
Legolas perched in the middle branches of a birch tree, his eyes sweeping over the forest ahead in search of any threats. This tree was a stone's throw from where once stood an oak that he had loved climbing in when he was first training as a soldier. The oak had loved when Legolas sat in the third branch up, right beside its upward bend. Year after year, Legolas had moved the hawfinch nest on the first fork of the fifth branch, because the fledgelings kept nearly falling to the ground below as they stepped onto one of the deceptively flexible twigs. Much later, a family of foxes had made its burrow beneath the dead, fallen trunk. Now, no hawfinch, fox, or wood of that old oak remained. They had all left their little marks on the Greenwood and were now forgotten by all but the Elves.
Legolas had observed the cycles of nature for hundreds of years. He had learned to appreciate all its complexity: the beauty of a flowering tree, the cruelty of a hunt, the creative renewal of new shoots reaching skyward past fallen deadwood. There was always so much joy to be had, in every birth and death, for there would always be more. Decay yielded to growth, and new life brought its own little forms of destruction.
He had loved spiderwebs since he first ran through one as a child. His mother helped him look for the spider that was hanging from his tunic, and place it back in the little bush from where Legolas had dislodged it. Then they watched together as it wound in an ancient dance between the twigs, making itself a new home. The elfling had visited spiderwebs frequently after that, watching dewdrops sparkle on the strands, or tiny insects wiggling in it, disturbing the masterful pattern of its maker in its struggle, only for the web to be remade once the insect was consumed. The intricate designs that meant both life and death were like an echo in miniature of the great Song of Arda.
But the pale, sticky mass he now saw hanging suspended by uneven, wasteful threads in the dense copse before him held none of the appeal of the spiderwebs of his youth. No—there ahead, the breeze shifted uneasily past dangling clumps of the grayish substance that seemed placed more to keep the sunlight from reaching below the trees than to catch any prey.
Legolas half-turned from his perch and made the hand signal that indicated to the Elves behind him that he had found the nest but that there were no immediate threats. Nevertheless, the soldiers did not relax their holds on their weapons even as he dropped down to the ground beside them.
His father looked at him steadily despite the eerie gloom of their surroundings. "Report."
"I do not like the web," Legolas said gravely, knowing the Elvenking would not discount his intuition. "It seems abandoned, but malevolently spun."
Mithrandir hummed thoughtfully from atop his horse, bright eyes shifting slowly around.
"Onward," Thranduil said, and the company followed.
They found the main nest soon after, guessing that a few dozen spiders had made their home there. But like the cluster Legolas had spotted, it appeared abandoned. They decided to continue their search, but saw no further signs of the beasts for many days.