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Far Horizons  by Bodkin

Far Horizons - Beginnings

The maps indicated that the land went on, but detail was singularly lacking. 

‘Why?’ Glorfindel asked with some exasperation.  ‘Even if you had no desire whatsoever to extend your holdings in that direction, surely you would have wished to know what was there!’

‘There are mountains high enough to be snow-capped,’ the representative of the High King shrugged, ‘and beyond them there is forest, through which winds a river wide enough to be seen from a distance.  There was no reason to seek further.  We have land enough and the sea.  Our resources are plentiful.  One day, perhaps, we would have chosen to explore – but, as it is, these lands seem to be meant for you. Our lords have consulted and the Valar are agreed.’

Elrond ran his fingers across the scroll before him.  ‘It is hard to know,’ he said. ‘There is little enough information on the space available – and nothing on the terrain, or the soil or the type of forest.’

‘We have done this before, Elrond,’ Thranduil told him somewhat impatiently. ‘Celeborn – and his lady,’ he added more grudgingly, ‘and you and many others among our peoples have seen our refuges torn down and moved on into the unknown only to start again.’

‘We have fled our homes in chaos, one step ahead of death,’ Celeborn pointed out, his voice cool, ‘and sought safety, only to be driven on to other temporary havens before finding sanctuary.  There is no need for that here.’

‘I will go,’ Glorfindel offered. ‘I will take selected elves with me to see if this place is suitable and prepare it for those who would join us.’

‘We will say nothing yet.  Any group must be gathered carefully, my friend, for it would be unwise to let this information spread freely,’ Elrond suggested.  ‘Let us first investigate this generous offer, so that we might know if these lands will sustain us.  Once we have seen this place, we will be better able to know how many will be needed in the first instance and how many may follow later.’

‘We are looking to build three realms?’ Celeborn asked dubiously.

‘As you have not invited my son to be present as Lord of Ithilien,’ Thranduil remarked somewhat frostily, ‘or, indeed, any representatives at all from Mithlond, I think that is probably so.’

Celeborn raised his eyebrows.  ‘I am inclined to consider that it would be wise to work to establish, in the first instance, a single central way-station, cousin,’ he insisted.  ‘And I believe that would be the most sensible option.  We will have time in plenty to expand.’

The representative sighed.  It seemed unlikely, he felt, that the lords of Middle Earth would be able to overcome their squabbles for long enough for them to achieve anything.  Although their words were not actively unfriendly, there was an edge beneath them that hinted at ages of rivalry.  ‘I have fulfilled my king’s command to bring you his suggestion, my lords,’ he concluded.  ‘I will leave you to your discussions.’  He bowed courteously, withdrawing a step or two before turning away and leaving them to it.

Elrond pressed his fingers to his temples.  ‘My lords!’ he said.  ‘Please. We will achieve nothing if we persist in these petty disagreements.  We have not asked Legolas to be here, Thranduil, for the same reasons that my sons are ignorant of our actions.  When there is something to say, we will involve them then. One realm, two, or five – it is too early for extended discussions on our ultimate goals.  We are currently assessing the potential.’

After a moment of fulminating silence, Thranduil nodded abruptly. ‘We need to organise ourselves,’ he admitted. ‘It is essential, nevertheless, for each to know where he stands – it will save arguments later.  Yet I am prepared to declare that I find the thought of any journey infinitely preferable to an age of marking time.’

Galadriel watched them from where she sat, turned away to the window, embroidery untouched in her lap.  It took a considerable amount of her well developed self-control to prevent her from joining them at the table, but she knew that, although Celeborn and Elrond would welcome her and Glorfindel would accept her without question, Thranduil would look on her participation as interference and this was no time to make matters more difficult than they were already, especially since she could make her point to her husband when she wished, with none the wiser.

‘Patience,’ Celeborn told her silently, his mental voice amused.

She closed her eyes and sent him an image of a grotesquely pulled face.  ‘I am being patient,’ she thought. ‘I am being so patient that I am about to scream.  You have spent three hours going over ground that was decided in the first three minutes.’

‘This is important, my lady,’ he said, adding with irony.  ‘It will be worth our small sacrifice of time.’

She sighed; then, assessing the mood of the assembled elves, rose and slipped quietly from the room to request food and wine, returning with several elves bearing trays of swiftly prepared snacks and full decanters. 

Thranduil nodded curtly as she poured wine into his goblet.  He was no fool, whatever she might think.  He did not believe for a moment that she would hold herself aloof from the negotiations being undertaken and he, in fact, felt a little insulted that she could believe that her silence made any difference to his understanding of her position.  ‘Do we have you to thank for this offer, my lady?’ he asked pointedly.

She looked at him in enquiry, but remained quiet.

‘The High King is your adar, Lady Galadriel,’ he elaborated. ‘Have you requested this of him on the behalf of we displaced elves of Arda?’

She smiled.  ‘Are you insinuating, my lord,’ she replied, her voice light, but honey-sweet, ‘that Finarfin is so keen to put space between us that he is willing to grant us sovereignty over lands so distant that he has not even seen them?’

Thranduil restrained his first urge to state that he would so choose, congratulating himself on his ability to be diplomatic when it was necessary.  ‘No, my lady,’ he said with exaggerated courtesy.  ‘But it is not impossible that he would consider your needs and that of your family to be of importance to him and seek out a way to grant you the independence to which you are accustomed.’

‘My adar is a good king and both wise and kindly,’ she told him, a tinge of wistful sadness in her tone.  ‘He does his best for all within the Blessed Realm.  I think he knows that we need the challenge of developing our own domains to help us heal and settle here in our hearts.’

Celeborn watched his wife as she glanced round to assure herself that all present were served, before turning and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her.

‘She regrets the length and nature of their division,’ he said simply, meeting his cousin’s eyes.  ‘It is too easy to allow the face she shows to compel belief in her indestructibility – but there is more to her than that.’  

Without waiting for a response, he turned back to the map in front of them.

It was dark and the stars were studding the velvet sky, when, finally, they rolled up the map and sat back with their initial plan of action outlined.  Galadriel had not returned and her husband was slightly concerned that she had not expressed any interest in the development of the debates.  It was unlike her to accept willingly the decisions of others in matters that involved the well-being of any in her care and he was surprised at her continued absence.

Celeborn lifted a decanter and offered it to those at the table.  ‘It is well, I think,’ he said neutrally.  ‘We should make a good start.’

‘I shall enjoy investigating the opportunities offered beyond the mountains,’ Glorfindel replied with relish.  ‘And I agree that it is wise to draw on the range of experience offered by all realms.  The party need not, after all, be restricted as to size – the need for discretion is at this end.  Those named are noted for their skills – not just as warriors and scouts, but foresters and farmers, geologists and botanists, builders and healers.  They are all unattached and known to enjoy travel, so they should also be able to slip away for some months without causing conjecture. Among us all we should be able to ensure that decisions are made wisely.’

‘I wish that I, too, could go.’ Elrond spoke wistfully.  ‘It does not seem right to delegate such a matter – even to you, old friend.’

Thranduil’s glance was fierce. ‘You are not the only one, Earendilion.  This is one journey that it will not be easy to miss – even though it would be difficult to take part without revealing all.’

‘It would be observed,’ Celeborn said reluctantly, ‘observed and commented on and lead to wild speculation.’

‘It is no good,’ Glorfindel told them with mock sympathy. ‘You will just have to trust me.’

A tap at the door was followed by the entrance of a soberly dressed elf, who usually carried messages across distances greater than that between library and dining room. ‘Lady Galadriel suggests that you join her for dinner, my lords,’ he said simply, stepping back and closing the door after him as he withdrew.

‘I should return home,’ Thranduil remarked. ‘There is no need to continue our discussions at this time.’

Elrond quirked an eyebrow. ‘Join us, Thranduil,’ he insisted. ‘The conversation might drift over a range of topics.  I would not like to have you think we are making choices in your absence.’

‘We cannot spend all our time in each other’s company simply to prevent the possibility of private conversation,’ the Woodland King answered dryly.  ‘People will start to talk.’

‘Nevertheless, join us.’  Celeborn smiled as he requested his cousin to remain. ‘It is inevitable that there will be friction among us at some stage,’ he said, ‘but let us at least commence in harmony.’  

***

‘Did you not feel the need to discover what decisions have been made?’ Celeborn asked his lady curiously, after their guests had left.

She looked at him mischievously, her eyes dancing.  ‘I had no need, my lord,’ she told him.

‘Your gift of foresight?’ he enquired, slightly disapproving.

‘No, Celeborn,’ she laughed aloud. ‘My gift of seeing the obvious.  You have said and agreed nothing beyond what was stated within an hour of the discussion’s start.  It is a good idea; it is a little suspicious that the offer should be made; more needs to be known; you will work together – at least until you start to drive each other insane; Glorfindel will take carefully chosen experts to view the lands and develop a plan.  Am I right?’

He turned to her, drawing close and reaching out to touch her cheek.  ‘Perhaps,’ he remarked. ‘Perhaps not – I am not prepared to say.’  He slid a hand round her waist and held her firmly. ‘You will have to ask,’ he murmured as his mouth sought hers.

‘I can think of better things to do,’ she whispered, tangling her fingers in his silver hair, ‘than search out secrets that you will tell me anyway.’

‘My cousin can be very tiresome,’ he added, lifting his head. ‘I do not know what he thinks to achieve by excluding you.’  He turned her to guide her towards their rooms, his arm still clasping her.

‘He is lonely,’ she shrugged.  ‘It is a shame that his wife has not yet returned from the Halls of Mandos.  She was good for him.’

‘I wonder why she has not,’ her husband mused. ‘There are numerous elves who returned to greet their families as they landed.’

‘There are many,’ Galadriel said dryly, ‘who harbour unworthy suspicions and mutter among themselves about the wife of the Woodland King.’

‘Foolishness,’ Celeborn snapped. ‘Have they nothing better to do than spread vicious slander?’

‘Clearly not.  Yet it is hard to understand why some return, and others do not.’

‘Whenever I think I have worked it out, something will prove me wrong,’ the lord admitted.  ‘I have thought it is to do with the level of shock suffered by the victim prior to death – but it is guesswork and takes no account of the return of such as Glorfindel.’

‘It will help Thranduil to have this new venture to plan,’ his wife remarked. ‘He will enjoy setting us all by the ears.’

‘There are far better reasons for this, my love, than providing my cousin with entertainment. It will be worthwhile for all our peoples, be sure of that.’

 





        

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