12. Memories

By the time Thranduil and Celeborn returned to the house, the afternoon sun was casting elongated shadows behind everything it touched, and they were met with an unexpected silence. Neither could sense the presence of their wives, and it was only a flicker of candlelight coming from under his study door that alerted Celeborn that someone was still present. Wordlessly the two Elves entered the study to find Elrond totally engrossed in the book he was reading.

"Where are the ladies?" asked Celeborn curiously as he walked over to a small cabinet and selected a bottle of wine. Elrond looked up from his book and nodded his acceptance of the offer as Celeborn held up a third wine glass.

"A messenger arrived from Glorfindel, inviting them to attend an impromptu concert in the main gardens at which he has been persuaded to sing. They accepted, of course," he explained.

"Persuaded? I doubt it took much effort to convince him to perform, we all know how he loves to be the centre of attention," commented Thranduil.

"We have not been gone that long, so it seems our good ladies were also easily persuaded to attend," laughed Celeborn.

"Elisiel and Celebrían have always been at his beck and call, as he well knows," said Elrond with a slight shrug.

"Even Galadriel is not totally immune to his charms. Shall we join them?" asked Celeborn, making no move to rise from his comfortable armchair.

"We have all heard Glorfindel sing on many occasions, and I find my interest is currently in this book of Faramir's," answered Elrond, obviously with no intentions of leaving either.

"And I am curious to see your weapons display. Perhaps you could direct me to it?" Thranduil asked Celeborn who was leafing through the book Elrond handed to him.

"Down the hall, second room on the right," he answered without looking up from the words on the page that had caught his eye.

Thranduil refilled his glass and left the two to their reading. He easily found the room that was more like a gallery so long and narrow was it, and he wandered slowly around, carefully studying the bows and knives that were hung on the walls. It was a truly impressive collection, made even more so because the wall underneath each weapon was painted with a scene depicting it being used in the manner for which it was intended. There were many battle scenes from ages past, and Thranduil found the truth of some scenes, particularly of the kin slaying, and Dagorlad was very difficult to bear. The artist had captured those terrible times so well that he felt as if he was actually there, amidst the heat of the battle, hearing the cries of the wounded, feeling the grief for the dead. It was both a fascinating and unpleasant experience, the realism enhanced no doubt by Galadriel's power. Even underneath the Mirkwood bow the picture of Legolas defending himself from attack by one of the spiders brought back unpleasant memories of the anguish Thranduil had felt each time one of his patrols left the safety of his Hall.

His mood was sombre when he returned to the study, and he was not surprised to see that Celeborn and Elrond were still reading. Although he was very curious to discover who had painted the murals in the gallery, he decided against disturbing them and walked out onto the balcony to enjoy the sunset.

"Tirion is at its loveliest at this time of day, to my mind," said Celeborn softly as he came to stand beside Thranduil. The fading light reflected a rainbow of colours from all parts of the city, the softness of the coloured glow adding to the serenity of the quiet time. No noise other than the occasional cry of a gull in the distance could be heard, and Thranduil realised he felt totally at peace for the first time in the strange city.

"It is beautiful I grant you, but I prefer the softness of the grasses beneath my feet to the crystal and gold of the city streets. I admit I find it surprising that you would choose to live here, after all you stayed in Lorien long after the ring bearers departed," he said turning a questioning glance towards the silver haired elf lord.

"So I did, for like you, I was not ready to leave the forests, even though my heart sailed West with its keeper," he admitted, his features softening as he spoke of Galadriel. "So tell me, what do you think of my collection?" he asked as Elrond brought the wine bottle and refilled their glasses.

"It is both extensive and impressive, and the artwork is incredibly realistic. Who is it that has such talent?" Celeborn and Elrond exchanged a knowing smile.

"Neridwen, of course," answered Celeborn.

"But she captured scenes of which she has no first hand knowledge so well, she was not even born when many of those battle occurred," he protested.

"And therein lies her talent," said Celeborn enigmatically. "Come, there is one other of her paintings you should see," he said leading them back into the study. "What do you make of this?" he asked Thranduil as they stood before the painting on the far wall.

Thranduil stood transfixed, unable to speak as he gazed at Legolas and Neridwen on their wedding day. His heart beat faster as he saw himself standing next to his son, as he would have had he been in Valinor for the important day. He could feel Elisiel's hand in his; hear the words spoken by Galadriel and the vows the happy couple made. He felt himself place his arm around Elisiel's shoulders as she leaned against his chest, felt her tears of joy dampening his shirt as they watched the wedding rings being exchanged. Tears filled his own eyes as he saw Legolas turn to him, his fair face brilliant with the glow of happiness. "You are always with me, Adar," he heard his son's musical voice whisper.

Thranduil started as he felt Elrond's familiar touch on his shoulder, breaking the spell and calling him back to the present.

"I think you should sit down, Thranduil, you appear to be quite shaken," he said with some concern. Thranduil allowed Celeborn and Elrond to help him to the armchair and took a large gulp of the wine he was offered.

"It was as if I was there!" he exclaimed, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. "I have no words to thank you, Celeborn," he added humbly.

"Not me, it is Neridwen and Galadriel you should thank," he said simply. Thranduil nodded and slowly finished his wine.

"I think I shall retire, I am suddenly feeling quite drained," he said as he placed his empty glass next to the wine bottle and left the study.

"My friend appears to be totally overwhelmed," said Elrond as he returned to his seat and his book.

"Neridwen's paintings can have that effect, but it is no surprise in this instance," commented Celeborn. "Did you bring all of Faramir's writings, or just enough to pique my curiosity?" he asked as he too resumed his seat.

"No, there are many more volumes in Legolas' library," answered Elrond.

"Then I will plan on a prolonged visit when we go to Alqualondë for the archery competition. Who do you favour to win, Elrond?" asked Celeborn.

"This year, definitely Legolas, and no, I do not wish to place a wager with you," replied Elrond easily anticipating Celeborn's next question.

"As you wish," conceded Celeborn neither surprised nor disappointed with Elrond's answer. They resumed their studies in comfortable silence that was broken abruptly when the ladies returned from the concert.

"Did you enjoy the entertainment?" asked Celeborn as he greeted Galadriel's return with a quick kiss.

"Glorfindel outdid himself," she answered laughing gaily. "He even coerced these two," she said pointing to Celebrían and Elisiel, "in to singing a ballad with him!"

"We were given three encores!" declared Celebrían as she took a sip of Elrond's wine.

"Where is Thranduil? I must tell him. I am sure he will be highly amused by the whole story," Elisiel said looking around the room.

"He retired early," said Elrond.

"He is not still suffering from his injury?" she asked with concern.

"No, he is just a feeling little overwhelmed. Celeborn showed him the painting," explained Elrond. Everyone in the room knew to which painting he referred for they had all been amazed at Neridwen's skill as she had painted her own likeness standing next to Legolas. It was one of the reasons Galadriel had invited him to Tirion.

"I see. I will bid you all a good evening," said Elisiel as she hurriedly made her way to her room.

Thranduil turned towards the door as he heard it open softly. Without saying a word Elisiel quickly crossed the distance between them and took him in her arms.

"Celeborn showed you the painting," she stated. "Do you like it?"

Thranduil held her at arm's length, a hurt look dulling his normally bright eyes.

"You knew about it? And said nothing?" he asked, anger tinging his voice.

"Galadriel said it would be best viewed without prior knowledge," she answered calmly. "Did you not find it so?"

"I found it to be totally astonishing, and so very real. I felt as if I was actually there," he answered, his anger softening into the joy he felt as he recalled the scene that had played through his mind.

"We knew you were with us, especially Legolas. Elrond offered to stand in your place, but our son would not allow it," Elisiel told him, her words eliciting a proud smile from her husband.

"You are always with me, Adar," Thranduil whispered, recalling the words he would never forget.

"Yes, that is why he refused. He said it was not necessary for you were with him in spirit, if not in person. Am I forgiven for keeping it from you?" she asked. Thranduil drew her close and kissed her passionately in reply. "I see that I am," she said when they parted. "However, whilst we are on the subject of secrets, aside from the orc arrow poisoning you on your rather impetuous journey to Imladris, what else have you not had time to tell me?"

"Did I mention that Mirkwood was invaded by Sauron's forces and nearly destroyed? Most of the trees and all the homes outside the caves were burnt, and it took many days and many lives to save my realm. That all the while we fought I knew not whether Legolas lived or was slain, nor even where he was. It was not until I met with Celeborn after the Galadhrim had destroyed Dol Guldur that I heard he was unharmed," he answered bitterly.

"It must have been a terrible time for you," said Elisiel putting her fingers to his lips to silence him. "Speak no more of it if it distresses you, my love." Thranduil kissed her fingertips and lightly brushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"My memories of the time since you left Mirkwood are nothing but distressing," he answered.

"And what of the memories you have of your short time here?" she asked as she trailed her fingers down the opening in his nightshirt.

"They are nothing but extremely pleasant, but I have far too few by which to judge," he whispered into her ear, the meaning in his words made plain by the desire in his voice.

"Then I shall remedy that for you, my love," said Elisiel as she led him to their bed. "We are not expecting Elrond to make a call this evening," she added before Thranduil silenced her with his lips.

Their loving was unhurried and intensely passionate and afterwards they simply lay together and talked, telling each other all they could recall of events important and trivial that had occurred since Elisiel had sailed over the sea. The rays of sunlight that heralded the new day played across the room as they finally drifted into a satiated sleep.