19. An Historical Encounter

A solitary figure, shrouded in an air of melancholy sang softly to the trees as he wandered aimlessly amongst them, and they easily sensed that his heart was filled with both the beauty and wonder of the Blessed Realm, and the immeasurable joy of the presence of his loved ones. Yet his spirit was troubled, and they knew not why. Nor did Thranduil himself. All he knew was that the song Glorfindel and Celeborn had sung at the music festival in Tirion had touched him deeply and even though it was now several weeks later, he could still not explain his feeling of despair. Not even to Elisiel who instinctively knew something was amiss. His beloved wife had tried her best to comfort him, but he had been unable to voice the reasons for his unrest, and that had only caused him more anguish.

Thranduil realised that he needed some time alone, and both Elisiel and Legolas had granted his request, suggesting that he seek solace at the cove, where they both found pleasure in simply watching the endless ebbing and flowing of the waves. Thranduil had thanked them, but since he had never really felt the call of the sea, he found he much preferred the more familiar comfort of the rustling of leaves, and the feel of soft grass beneath his bare feet.

Those feet were now leading him he knew not where until the whispering sound of water cascading focussed his attention once more on his surroundings. He followed the gentle splashing sounds, and soon found himself in a large open glade in which a stream of cool, clear water tumbled from the top of a rocky wall forming a deep pool below. Thranduil simply stood and watched in fascination as the sunlight kissed the droplets that formed a fine mist as the water caressed the rocks, causing several miniature rainbows to form in the warm air.

The Elf smiled as he imagined himself simply floating in the pool, allowing the water to wash away his troubles as no sea of waves could, and he decided that he would do just that. Using his senses to alert him to any unwanted eyes intruding on his sanctuary, as he had always needed to do in Mirkwood, he determined that there was no one in his vicinity. He disrobed leisurely, carefully folding his clothes and placing them on one of the large boulders that rose from the grass at the edge of the pool. Without further thought he plunged into the refreshingly cool water and swam lazily over to the waterfall. He turned over so that he was now floating on his back, and allowed the moving water to eddy around him, and the bubbles of air from the base of the fall delicately massage his smooth body.

Once he had had his fill of the relaxing sensation, he swam back to the shore and stretched out on the grass to allow the warmth of the afternoon sun to dry the glistening drops of moisture from his bare body and his golden hair. The tranquillity of the glade, and the release of tension that the water had provided made it impossible for him to keep awake and he drifted into a light sleep. In his dreams he wandered alone through the darkness of Mirkwood. He stopped to speak words of encouragement to his warriors as they left the safety of his Hall to patrol and protect the borders. He cried silent tears as Elisiel left him again, and Legolas journeyed once more on the Quest. But even in the depths of his despair, there was light and joy as the elves of his realm found time to feast until dawn, sing to the trees and dance beneath the stars.

Thranduil laughed out loud in his sleep as he realised that his unrest was nothing but a touch of homesickness. Despite the fact that he was now surrounded by, and happily living in, the exquisite beauty and peaceful serenity of the true home of the Elves, Glorfindel's song had spoken to the part of him that missed Mirkwood and Middle Earth.

"I wonder if I could convince Neridwen to draw you like this, my love," a silken voice whispered into his ear, causing him to awaken with a start. "Although such a wanton display might make her blush," decided Elisiel as she nibbled the tip of Thranduil's ear, causing goose bumps to appear over his exposed flesh.

"You have obviously not seen some of her drawings of Legolas. I think it is you who would be embarrassed," he countered as, seeing no good reason to move, he simply pulled her close so that their lips could meet in a passionate kiss. "What brings you here?" he asked as he leisurely began unlacing her bodice.

"I was concerned about you, I expected you to return long before now," she answered, closing her eyes with pleasure as his hand travelled over her soft skin.

"As you can see, I am quite well, and I have discovered the source of my disquiet," he said with a quick intake of breath as Elisiel trailed her fingers down his bare chest and over his stomach not stopping until she reached his arousal.

"Tell me later," she whispered. Thranduil willingly accepted her seductive invitation.

The last rays of sunlight were beginning to cast long shadows across the glade by the time Elisiel and Thranduil were ready to return home, and as they walked hand in hand, Thranduil told her of his dream.

"It seems I am merely suffering a desire to return to the more familiar surroundings of my Hall," he said.

"I should have realised the cause of your disquiet sooner, for I felt a similar sadness shortly after I arrived here," said Elisiel with a shake of her head at her perceived failure.

"Really? I thought that answering the call of the sea would have brought you the peace you no longer felt in Mirkwood, that it was exactly what you wanted and needed," he said stopping to look into eyes that were the windows to her heart.

"And so it did, but only for a short time. I missed you and Legolas so much that I too wished I was once again in Mirkwood. I knew that such a return was not possible, of course, and so I eventually learned to overcome my despair with the knowledge that we would one day be a family again," she said drawing him into an embrace that spoke not of desire, but only of a deep and eternal love for her husband and her son.

"Even though there is no going back, there is much I want to remember, but I think I am afraid that in time the memories will fade," he admitted.

"Not if you make a record of them while they are still fresh in your mind. Why not write the history down so that any who are interested can read it?" suggested Elisiel.

"Elrond is the history master, not I," he said, initially scoffing at the idea. "However, it would certainly surprise him if I were to present him with a book I had written. It would be the last thing he would expect me to do," he added with a hint of amusement in his voice. In fact he believed Elrond would be speechless, and even Glorfindel might be caught unawares by such a totally unlikely gift from Thranduil.

"Then consider it a challenge. Do not forget that he only truly knows the history of Imladris, just as only you know the true history of Mirkwood and the Woodland Elves. Surely you intend to tell Estellan of his heritage?"

"Of course I do. When you put it in that light, it almost becomes an appealing, if not daunting task," he replied distractedly as several tales suitable for a young grandson came instantly to mind.

"You could ask Neridwen to illustrate it, then Elrond and Elrohir could use it in the classes they intend to teach the elflings," suggested Elisiel.

"My sweet daughter may be very talented, but she has never visited Mirkwood. How could she possibly render pictures of it?" he asked.

"Come and see for yourself," said Elisiel as they entered the clearing behind the rooms Neridwen used for her artwork. Obviously well acquainted with the location of the objects she sought, Elisiel walked over to a chest of drawers and took two rolled up drawings from the top drawer. Thranduil helped her carefully unroll the first one and was amazed to see a detailed depiction of the magnificent city of the Dwarrowdelf deep in the heart of Moria. He made no comment but was unable to stifle a gasp as he gazed at the next picture, that of the Hall of the King of Mirkwood. He almost felt he was once again in his throne room, so well had she captured every minute detail.

"How did she do this?" he asked, unable to take his eyes from the drawing.

"Legolas described Mirkwood, and Gimli the Dwarrowdelf, and she drew not only from the details of their words, but from what they felt in their hearts as well. It is also a part of her gift," explained Elisiel, thinking that perhaps she could do likewise. The intoxicating image of Thranduil lying naked in the grass was still very fresh in her mind.

"Her talent knows no bounds, and I think I will ask for her assistance," he agreed as he replaced the pictures in the drawer. "However there is one thing I would ask of you, my love. Should you sense my despair threatening to return, I trust you will dispel it as you did earlier?" Her kiss was all the answer he needed.   

Epilogue

The first anniversary of Thranduil's arrival in Valinor was quickly approaching and he had accepted an invitation to celebrate the occasion at Elrond's home, and he decided that he would have the first chapter of his book ready to show Elrond and Glorfindel at that time. Rather than work on his book in the confines of his study, Thranduil built himself a small talan in the woods and would spend hours in the tranquil surroundings simply gathering his thoughts and making notes. Elisiel often accompanied him, and would sometimes add her own thoughts and memories to the work. Neridwen's drawings were added and finally the first chapter was ready to be presented to his friends.

It was not often that Thranduil took the time to visit Elrond and Glorfindel, but when he did, the three friends spent the time in their usual fashion, sharing a bottle or two of wine as well as pleasant conversation.

"Welcome, Thranduil. I believe Elrond has opened a bottle of something suitable to celebrate your anniversary," said Glorfindel as he led his friend to the library

"I can scarcely believe a year has passed since I arrived in Valinor," said Thranduil as he removed his travelling cloak, placed a mysterious looking package on Elrond's desk and settled himself in one of the comfortable armchairs.

"Time has little meaning here. But tell us, how have you found the change from life in Middle Earth?" asked Elrond as he glanced curiously at the wrapped package Thranduil had placed on his desk

"Eventful, interesting and very rewarding. I am glad to be here," he answered, pointedly ignoring the eyebrow Elrond raised in query as to the object of his curiosity.

"I am sure we are both pleased that all is well with you. Now what is in the package?" asked Glorfindel with his usual directness, knowing full well that Elrond would not ask although he obviously wished to find out.

"Nothing that cannot wait for now. Elrond, Legolas tells me that Aradir should easily win the novice archery contest this New Year. He says the young one has much skill and talent for the sport,' he said changing the subject, much to Glorfindel's annoyance.

"That is good to hear, and high praise coming from an archery master such as your son," responded Elrond his voice filled with pride in his grandson.

"Let us hope he keeps out of mischief, or at least in Celeborn's good graces, so that he has the chance to prove his skill this time," said Glorfindel, eliciting a smile and a nod of agreement from both Elrond and Thranduil.

"Did Faerwen enjoy her visit with Estellan?" asked Elrond. Elrohir's daughter had spent several weeks with Legolas and Neridwen, and she was enthralled with their young son. Elrond was continuing to steer the conversation away from the subject of the package and Glorfindel's piqued curiosity, for he also found some enjoyment in teasing the Elf lord from time to time.

"Yes, very much so, just as we enjoyed having her stay with us as well. She is a delightful elfling, and even more curious about everything than Glorfindel," Thranduil said, earning himself a frown of disapproval from his friend at the jest. "I must have answered hundreds of her questions on our journey here." Elrond laughed at that and nodded knowingly, he had often spent many hours answering unceasing questions from his granddaughter.

"Ai, she certainly has taken a liking to you as well as your grandson, mellon nin," he said.

"For now that is so, but I think her affections will be transferred to her new cousin, once Elladan's daughter is born," said Thranduil.

"A likely outcome, I think," agreed Elrond.

"I wager even she knows what is in that package," they both heard Glorfindel muter to himself.

"Of course, she does, after all she helped me to wrap it. If you wish to know what it is, why not just ask Elrond to open it?" suggested Thranduil as he poured them all another glass of wine.

Glorfindel needed no further encouragement. He picked the package up and handed it to Elrond, who sighed loudly and carefully removed the soft linen wrapping to reveal a book, bound with in thick, deep green leather, with a border of leaves and flowers embossed in gold. The title was also in gold, and was written in Sindarin.

"A History of Greenwood the Great, Volume 1, The House of Oropher," read Elrond out loud, his initial look of amazement changing slowly to one of respect as he turned the pages to reveal both the elegant handwriting and the astonishingly beautiful artwork that accompanied the words. "I see Neridwen has been at work, and I do not mean to offend, but I did not think that writing a history book was something you would endeavour to do.'

"Neither did I," admitted Thranduil candidly. "It was actually Elisiel's idea. She suggested that you and Elrohir might like to have a more accurate account of the history of my realm to use in your classes."

"I think it is an excellent idea,' said Glorfindel as he took the book and studied it for himself. "This is truly a wonderful piece of work. You certainly remain unpredictable, Thranduil. I am truly impressed!"

"I agree, both with the idea, and the impressive work! This will make an excellent teaching aide," said Elrond. "In fact, I think I will ask Celeborn to do likewise with a history of Lothlórien. Valinor is our home now, and the only home our grandchildren know, but I believe they should know something of the once great elven realms that are also a part of their heritage."

"Now that is worth a toast. To Imladris, Eryn Lasgalen and Lothlórien," said Glorfindel, his words echoed by the others as they raised their glasses.

"And to Valinor!" said all three in unison.