Author’s Note:

What started out as pure parody seems to be evolving and taking on a life of its own. As I wrote the past chapters, the ramifications of the true evil that had befallen the Wood-Elves between the lines of Bryn’s stories entered my mind. Their prince had been killed and his body desecrated. Their king was mourning as a father, and yet had to set aside his grief. His land had been invaded by poachers, who are still killing or capturing his young warriors, and many elven parents in his realm share his own grief. The Wood-Elves have now regrouped their forces, and it seems they would take me down an unknown path. As I’m curious myself to find out what happens, I’m going to follow that path and hope that you will continue to share the journey. I promise that we will still find the Abomination and take our justice e’er the story ends.

This chapter is in part a very dark one. I’ve attempted to keep the gore and violence primarily off page, but it’s there lurking, so take heed. In compensation, I offer a still irreverent and irrepresible Legolas, the continuing education of BW, Celeborn the Warrior King, Gil-Galad, the Wood-Elves coming into their glory, a Haldir who is no longer confused and an explanation of Asfaloth’s infamous bells.

The suspicion of the Wood-Elves of all that is Imladris and their alliance with the Galadhrim are purely my own invention. I bow low to the Cold One and send my humble apologies, good Master Elrond!

To LKK, who noticed that Celeborn is the only elven lord whose thoughts remain his own, much applause and blessings be upon you! This was intentional and will continue. He and Galadriel just are. We cannot know them. Take comfort, though, for there is no evil in his noble heart, and his love for his Lady is ever true and very deep.

Having gotten almost all my main characters back within sight of each other again, I shall now take myself off on a well-earned week in New Orleans and environs. I’m trying to convince Glorfindel to join me. Tour the French Quarter with Glorfy!

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Chapter 4 - The Ford at Bruinen

"Glorfindel?" Legolas urged Arod forward until he walked once again beside the mighty Asfaloth. Arod eyed the other horse suspiciously for he was of the Rohirrim, and horses of the Rohirrim wear not bells. He shook his head in disgust, but obeyed Legolas’ silent commands as ever.

"Yes, elfling?"

That’s it! I am seriously going to have to think of doing something about this "elfling" kick he’s on. Thinks it’s hilarious, I bet. He’s been in Imladris too long. Well, this has to be nipped in the bud, and that’s for sure. Just what I need for Gimli to hear. "Legolas, one of the Nine Walkers, Elfling." I’ll never hear the end of it if Gimli once hears it. Stupid dwarf." He sighed. He really missed the stupid dwarf. It was difficult to be astride Arod once again and not be hearing Gimli’s incessent complaining or feeling that dwarven death grip about his waist. The quiver was always a sore point with Gimli. And the white knives. Said they poked him but, as he never could come up with an alternative storage space other than the elf’s back, he just ended up grumbling in his beard. It was a sound Legolas found somehow comforting on a long march.

"Did I just hear you say that Gil-Galad was riding with Celeborn to meet us? You don’t mean the real Gil-Galad, do you? You know the one, Last Alliance, Aeglos and all that?"

"The very same. I scarce can wait to embrace him yet again! It has been far too long." Glorfindel looked happy. But then, Glorfindel always seemed to look happy. This was puzzling to Legolas considering what Glorfindel had been through. Balrogs were no picnic after all. Legolas had encountered one himself, and it certainly hadn’t left him feeling perpetually cheerful.

"Glorfindel?"

"Yes, elfling?" Legolas gritted his teeth. This was not the time. He wanted to get as much information as he could out of Glorfindel and belting him would dry up a valuable source as well as probably get Legolas killed again. He felt out of touch after the dissection and his sojourn in Mandos. "Pray pardon me, Glorfindel, but I do seem to remember that Gil-Galad was dead? Second Age wasn’t it?" Legolas kept his voice courteous as befitted one of the young who spoke to a mighty warrior.

Glorfindel laughed. Even at his grumpiest, Legolas had to admit Glorfindel had a nice laugh. He seemed to surrender himself to it completely, and anyone near him, even Erestor, who could be pretty glum, would be hard put not to at least smile at the sound of it. "Aye, Gil-Galad was dead." He laughed again. "And I was dead and you and Haldir were also dead. Námo I suppose thought that Celeborn might need some help whilst visiting your father. Your father is not an easy elf with whom to deal, Legolas."

"Like to tell me something I don’t know? Try living with him for a few centuries, Glorfindel!" Legolas mulled things over. "Well, it will be interesting to meet him. I certainly heard enough about him from my tutors."

"He is a great warrior. One of our finest" Glorfindel smiled at some memories known only to him and perhaps the great Gil-Galad himself. Legolas really liked Glorfindel. He was so different from his Adar. Thranduil was also a great warrior Legolas knew, and he loved his father. He just didn’t laugh much. Or smile. Legolas sighed. Being the son of Thranduil wasn’t always easy. He no longer expected it to be.

"Lord Celeborn fares well and our Lady?" It was the first time Haldir had spoken for several hours of their day’s journey, for he had seemed deep in thought and kept his own counsel. Legolas kept meaning to joke with him that they were out of Mandos now so he could give all that thinking a rest, but he never did. Haldir seemed very sad, too sad for jest somehow, and Legolas had grown fond of the tall and quiet Galadhrim.

"Both fine now that you are returned to them, Haldir. The Lady of Light must hold you in her esteem for she grieved so that you were gone. Elrond has sent me news by his swiftest messenger of the depths of her mourning for you."

Legolas snorted mentally, but kept his face courteous. I’ll just bet the good Master of Imladris has sent you news. Probably screaming at you to hurry and rescue him. I would love to get my hands on that letter. He must be in a proper panic by now with Galadriel in residence for so many weeks. Legolas had seen Galadriel in a rage several times over the last thousand years, and it was not a pretty sight. And few things so angered Galadriel as the loss of even one of her Galadhrim. No doubt the mighty lord of Imladris had had his hands full. Ai, Peredhil, your path has not been easy of late. Legolas smiled in deep satisfaction.

Legolas felt as did his father on this subject. Far better to ally their warriors with the Mad Witch of the Galadhrim than anyone else. She at least would mourn at their deaths and avenge them.

They were not so sure of that cold one in Imladris. For the Wood-Elves distrusted Master Elrond not a little. There was no passion in him that their eyes could see. Death and broken bodies seemed an abstract to him, a thing of books still for all that they knew he had fought himself in battles and bravely. And the death of Wood-Elves would be beneath his proud notice they were sure. He cared more for the lives of men, thought they, than for his woodland kin, and among the warriors of Thranduil was he known only and ever as the Peredhil.

To Galadriel, death was far too real, and she had seen too much of it to embrace it willingly for any of her own, and the Wood-Elves felt that in her eyes they were counted among her people, and their loyalty to her was great. To Imladris came they if their king commanded; to Lórien came they in love.

"My eyes long to look upon them once again and beg their forgiveness that I have failed in my duty to them."

Oh, here we go again. Haldir and his failed duty. How many times have I told him to get a grip? Legolas was about to have another go at it when Glorfindel’s words stopped him.

"Haldir o Lórien, listen to me and mark well my words. Your Lord and Lady so honor you that Galadriel has left her woodlands and gone forth into the battle to avenge you. And Celeborn has for his love of you left the side of his Lady and journeyed far to the realm of Thranduil. And in his personal guard, Lord Celeborn would have no other until first he had named Rúmil and Orophin, the brothers of Haldir. Say not that you have failed them, but rather that you have served them with honor and brought no shame upon the Galadhrim even unto your end. Haldir o Lórien, it is given to no warrior to know where his death or life may best serve his sovereign. You fought bravely and with honor where Ilúvatar placed you, and in your death there was no shame. It is enough. Lift up your head and take the gift that you have been given and serve yet again your Lord and Lady with the same courage as of old, for their love of you is great and will never falter."

Then did Haldir hear the words of Glorfindel, and they entered into his heart and lit a fire there that ever after burned bright in the service of those he loved, and he did lift his head and again was a warrior of the Galadhrim and unafraid. and of his path he was ever after sure. And in his heart did Haldir honor the great Glorfindel and serve him even as he served his Lord of the Galadhrim.

*****

BW was just starting to think that she must be getting the hang of this riding bit, when she felt her self sliding to the side again as her horse shyed at a leaf blown by the wind. She grabbed wildly for the mane and held it even tighter. Rúmil tightened the leading rope of hithlain that he had fashioned and fastened about her mount’s neck and brought the mare again under control. He and his brother Orophin had been charged with her safety and also set as a watch upon her, and thus they rode on either side of her and behind Lord Celeborn and Gil-Galad.

And behind these brothers followed riding a host of the Galadhrim with their great bows upon their backs and with them rode the same number of the Wood-Elves of the King Thranduil, sent to honor his son’s return and give him escort unto Imladris and there to protect him until he be returned to the shelter of his father’s house. For the darkness still lingered in the realm of Thranduil, and he left not his people without the protection of their king.

"My Lady, you would fare better with this horse if you but gripped more with your knees and less with your hands upon her mane. You frighten her thus."

"I’m trying, Rúmil, I truly am. It’d be a lot more help if you could find me a saddle and bridle at least rather than tell me to grip with my knees."

"The Galadhrim ride not with tack, my lady. Our horses would not tolerate it, and we would not bring such shame upon them." Rúmil knew that she was a foreigner and under the protection of his lord, but still he was shocked at her suggestion and spoke softly to her horse to bid for her pardon at the offense of her rider’s ignorance.

"But Gil-Galad has a bridle at least! Why not me?"

"That is a horse of Imladris which King Thranduil found wandering among his herds after the battles." The scorn in Rúmil’s voice was as a living thing, for he had spent many of his earliest years in the halls of Thranduil. "He returns this property now to the Master of that realm, and so it has a bridle that the Peredhil may know we stole nothing that was his. Gil-Galad, see you, uses it not." This is obviously a sensitive area BW, my girl, so don’t go there. Rúmil’s only resumed talking to you two days ago so be careful. BW often lectured herself. It gave her focus.

BW saw that Rúmil was right. The horses reins were knotted loosely on its neck, and Gil-Galad rode tall and straight with only Aeglos in his hands. BW had finally figured out who they meant when the elves spoke of Aeglos. It was that nasty looking spear that had conked her on her head when she was captured. BW was very sure that she did not approve of Aeglos.

Apparently, they all named their weapons in some sort of strange elven custom. She wondered what those horrific looking bows Rúmil and Orophin carried were called. They hadn’t volunteered the information, and she wasn’t sure it was polite to ask. You had to be careful about being courteous as she had discovered the hard way these days of travel. She had offended Rúmil early in the journey when she had asked him how long it took him to braid his hair in the morning, and he had not spoken to her for the rest of that day and the next, not until she gave him half of the berries she’d been alloted for her breakfast. She wondered also why each of the brothers carried two of the bows and two quivers, each with a different color to the fletching of the arrows within. Those bows really frightened her. They were taller than she was, and last night she had seen Orophin fire one and bring down a deer for the evening’s meal with but one arrow through the poor beast’s eye. The sound of the bowstring as it sent its arrow forth startled her, but even BW knew that the death had been merciful, and that the animal had in one moment and without fear simply ceased to exist. She remembered reading the capture and dissection report and wondered if the Wood-Elf had felt fear before he died. She rather expected he had and pushed the thought away.

"He doesn’t say much, does he?" She nodded towards Gil-Galad. Except when he had brought her down by crashing Aeglos into her head and then slung her roughly over his shoulder to bring her to Thranduil’s dungeon, Gil-Galad had ignored BW. She couldn’t even claim that he was discourteous. It was as if she simply didn’t exist to him. The Galadhrim and the Wood-Elves riding behind didn’t speak to her either, but she knew that each observed her with a watchful curiosity, and she had heard a few who seemed to laugh at her attempts to stay on the mare’s back. But, in fact, no one but Rúmil was talking to her at all, for Celeborn was much with Gil-Galad and discussed with him alone the Plan. Orophin would take his turn with the leading rope of her horse, but all his words were addressed to his brother, and he seldom even looked at her directly, although she knew he watched well that she be kept safe as Celeborn had decreed. BW felt very alone. They had been riding for days now, and nothing was at all familiar to her anymore. The terrain was not so mountainous as before and they were on a path that seemed more well traveled, but that’s about all she could tell. She was lonely, and so she had ventured to make a remark to Rúmil about the tall warrior who rode before them and listened to the words of Celeborn

Rúmil seemed inclined to speak with her for he was kind of heart, and he saw that she felt lost at times among them. "Gil-Galad keeps his counsel as he has had to do over the ages. And to you I doubt he would ever choose to speak for you are mortal and he, as most of us, has learned not to put trust in men." He looked at her with pity in his eyes. "Men are weak. They destroyed not evil when they had it in their grasp, and so have our lands long remained in shadow. In the Last Alliance, many elves died to bring down the evil of Sauron. The victory was within our grasp when the light of men failed, and evil yet lived. It is not easy for an elf to trust again in men, and thus it has been for all the years of my life and before. Haldir remembers still the Alliance, but I was too young as was Orophin."

"Who is Haldir? I keep hearing his name whispered at night when I should be sleeping."

She was not fated to hear a reply to her query for at that moment a soft cry, as if of a bird, came from the rear of the file. At once all the horses were stopped, and no sound came but for a soft whisper as each warrior bade his horse be still. Orophin moved closer to her mare, and his brother motioned for BW to be still. A small army of elves stood then in the quiet of the trees and beneath the grey of their cloaks they were hidden, and it seemed to the approaching party on the road that they were alone.

They were a rough and dangerous looking crew of men, at least thirty in number, maybe more. Dirty and clad in unmended clothing, they carried nets over their shoulders and clubs were in the hands of many and quivers were on their backs and long bows. And behind them, tied together and jerked brutally along if they faltered were four tall elves. BW heard a soft intake of breath from Orophin that might have been the sound of the wind to anyone who stood not next to him, for he saw that two of the captives were of the Galdhrim while the others wore the garments of the Woodland Realm. And suddenly BW knew that these rough men before her were among the poachers that came to prey upon the elves of all the woodlands, and she felt her stomach churn with anger. The bound elves were probably frightened, but they walked tall and proud despite their injuries and on their faces they gave no sign that they were prisoners for their spirits yet were free.

Suddenly, BW saw Celeborn raise his hand, and she saw the great bows of the elves raised silently and the arrows nocked against the strings. She saw the muscled arms of the brothers beside her smoothly draw back their bowstrings and still there was no noise that the poachers could hear. And then there was a great stillness that pressed in on her, and she heard the coarse swearing and foul calling of the poachers one to another. Then did Celeborn drop his hand and give the signal.

It was over in minutes, but BW would never forget the sound of the arrows flights through the dark night or the screaming and confusion of the poachers as they tried to flee.

The Wood-Elves and their brethern the Galadhrim had aimed to kill, and this they had done. The four bound elves still stood unmoving, tall and proud in the moonlight before her eyes. Yet now all around them lay the bodies of their captors, each with the many different colored fletchings of the arrows of the elves in their bodies, heads and throats.

She watched as Celeborn dropped lightly from his horse and strode to where the still dying bodies lay with Gil-Galad following after. The Lord of the Galdhrim bent down and lay his hand upon a grey and white fletched arrow lodged in the throat of one of the fallen. The man was dying but yet he breathed. With one fierce and graceful movement, Celeborn pulled the arrow from the man’s throat and watched impassively as the blood spurted and stained the earth of the forest, while Celeborn watched the man die. He nodded to Gil-Galad who cut the bonds of the captives. These elves stood quietly still and watched as the Lord of the Galadhrim spat upon the body lying before him, and they were satisfied in some small part of their hearts. Celeborn returned to where the two brothers stood with BW, and his great anger still burned in his eyes. He handed the bloodied arrow to Orophin, and his voice was cold and fierce. "You did well, brother of Haldir."

Orophin then took the arrow and held it and smiled at the blood upon it. And to his Lord did Orophin bow his head in tribute and touch the arrow to each of his own cheeks in turn, so that they were marked with the blood and death of his enemy that he had slain.

Then Celeborn turned and faced his warriors, the Wood-Elves and the Galadhrim standing together as of old.

"Let all retrieve their arrows and give comfort to our kinsmen who stand here among us once more free." His eyes were cold on the bodies before him. "Leave this carrion for the wolves."

And it was done as Celeborn commanded, and the elves who had been captives mounted double with those who had freed them and weapons were given unto them, and all were again made ready to ride forth. As he walked back past towards his horse, Celeborn saw the fright of the maiden before him, and in his pity spoke to her softly.

"They kill my people or carry them into torment and in them is no mercy and thus they rob me of mine."

Then Celeborn mounted and gave the signal to his warriors, and the company passed onward. And from behind them all heard the harsh calls of the crebain as they began their slow circles over the dead and dying.

*****

The campfires burned lower now and there was stillness and quiet except for the occasional murmur of voices speaking together among those who could not yet sleep.

BW was one of them. She leaned against the tree and felt miserable. She had no one to talk to, for Celeborn had relieved the brothers of their duty to her for this night and was himself no where to be seen. Gil-Galad watched in the brothers’ place. For a time the three elves had spoken softly together about many things but never the battle they had just won. She wondered if it was so easy for them to kill that they could talk now instead of the forests and the stars above them. She had questions but no one of whom she could ask for the elves did not include her in their conversation. At least, though, there had been words before to which she could listen. About an hour ago, the brothers had finally grown weary and lay down next to each other not too far from where she sat. She’d heard Gil-Galad bless their rest, and then he had grown silent once again and seemed not to move except when his hand would from time to time lift a cup of wine to his lips, and he would drink. She couldn’t sleep and she didn’t dare stare at Gil-Galad, so BW contented herself with watching the brothers sleep. They had started out side by side about a foot apart from each other but, when Orophin had grown restless in his sleep, Rúmil had put his arm around his sleeping brother and drawn him closer. Now, Orophin lay quiet with his head pillowed on his older brother’s chest, and both slept deeply. BW smiled at them in the darkness. I wonder if Orophin will ever say one word to me? I’d even settle for "get up, wench" at this point. At least then I’d feel as if I existed to him.

"You have eaten nothing of the food that was given to you." It was not a question but an accusation, and Gil-Galad crouched down so that his eyes would be more level to hers.

BW almost cried out she was so startled at suddenly being addressed by him. She hadn’t even heard him approach her. She looked into his eyes and was not as frightened as she expected to be although that was not saying too much. His eyes were dark and very stern. "I, I wasn’t hungry."

"You have ridden all day and will do the same tomorrow before we reach the appointed place. If you faint from hunger, it will delay us." He picked up the plate and handed it to her. "It is now cold, but you will eat it." Probably no good arguing with this one, my girl. Even Rúmil doesn’t really listen to you when you argue. You still end up doing what he says."

"Food is a gift. It is not to be squandered on the whim of elf or mortal. Ilúvatar let the deer be taken so that its spirit might nourish us on our journey and he has sent the fruit from his abundance. Do not lightly refuse them." He handed her a cup of wine. "Also, gave he the grapes from which this was made and you will drink of it. I shall keep watch and see that you do."

BW found herself eating and that she was very hungry after all. She felt her strength and courage returning just a bit and managed to look at Gil-Galad’s face. Of course, I guess he must be being polite, because he’s not really staring at me. I’d be toast if he were. It’s an oddly beautiful face, more angles and hardness than I’ve seen in the other elves but still beautiful. Must be in their contracts. Elves must be beautiful. Well, I guess it’s to late for me to get one of their lawyers to revise the terms of my own face. Nobody is ever going to call me beautiful. That didn’t bother BW too much. She was used to the quirky planes of her own face and even rather liked them. She took the piece of lembas that the warrior handed her and finished it as well. He looks pretty fierce though. Don’t think he laughs much. Even Celeborn laughs once in a while. She heard him when the mare had bolted with her that first day of the their journey. She’d been yelling and hanging on for dear life until Orophin tore after on his own horse and flung himself onto the mare to stop her. As she rode back behind an obviously disgusted Orophin, Celeborn had been laughing as if he could never stop. He’d given Rúmil the rope then to fashion the lead line for her. Celeborn. Suddenly BW remembered his face this afternoon as his hands grasped the arrow and pulled. She felt very sick and took a deep breath. Gil-Galad handed her another cup of wine, and she took it gratefully.

"Do you think Celeborn took pleasure in the death of those mortals?" Gil-Galad’s voice was low.

"He must have. He ripped that man’s throat out!"

"It was necessary that they die, but Celeborn loves not killing. He loves peace more than anyone I know. It has never been his fate to have it long. The man would have otherwise bled to death slowly while the crebain ate his flesh, and he knew it and felt their beaks. He died quickly from what Celeborn did." He looked at her. "Lie down and go to sleep. I shall keep watch over you."

Miserably, BW did as she was told and pulled the blanket over her. She could hear the quiet breathing of the brothers sleeping nearby and knew that the blood of his enemy was still dry upon Orophin’s cheeks. He had not washed it off, and none had told him to do so. She didn’t understand them at all. She never would.

As her breathing quieted finally, BW heard a voice say softly to her. "Life is not so simple as you would make it, and our choices often are clouded by uncertainty. Those four elves that were captured were from a group of twelve seeking the safety of Imladris. The mortals killed the others." The voice grew even softer as it continued as if speaking only to the night. "Three of those eight were children, the fourth a babe not more than six months old. The others were their fathers and mothers, and the mortals hacked their fathers to death as they sought with their own bodies to shield their children and their wives after all their arrows were spent. Only then did the men kill the children and the women. I shall not speak of how for you could not bear to hear it. The four who survived returned from their hunting to find their companions seemingly left dead by the road. As they tried to bury the children at least, despite all danger to themselves, the men returned, and they were taken. Celeborn has now returned with them and a group of his warriors, back to find their dead and lay them to rest this night. With his own hands will Celeborn bury the children, or I know him not at all. Think of that e’er you judge him, mortal." And Gil-Galad began to softly sing to himself, and she knew that he was mourning the loss of the children and their mothers and the fathers who died trying to save them and could not.

*****

Glorfindel had risen two hours before his elflings. He liked best the early morning hours when he was alone with the woodland creatures and his own thoughts. Somehow, when Legolas awoke, life for Glorfindel became fulll of the unexpected.

Already he had bathed in the cold water of the stream that led down to the Bruinen. He had dressed himself again in his leggings but his feet were still bare so that he could feel the grass beneath them and his tunic lay yet beside him. The feel of the warm sun on his back was good as he waited for it to dry his hair. He expected that Elrond would send a delegation to greet them and that Celeborn to honor his wife would array himself with all formalities observed. That meant only one thing to Glorfindel. Somehow, he would have to convince Legolas that his simple tunic would not do in Imladris. If he knew Thranduil, and he did, the king would send and expect his son to wear robes that would not be to the elfling’s liking.

He should have heard him approach, but Glorfindel was so preoccupied with strategy for his upcoming battle that he missed the sound of not just one, but two elves creeping up on him.

Instinctively, he jumped back just as they leaped upon him, but it was a second too late. Glorfindel fell beneath the combined force of Haldir and Legolas and wrestled them wildly. They were good, but he was better still and with a roar he finally threw them off and pinned them to the ground, one hand on Legolas and the other on Haldir in mock fury.

"You shall die now again and this time Námo will not be so generous I think!" They begged for mercy then, and he laughingly granted it and bade them rise. "I am too old an elf to be forced to start my day with such indignities. Go bathe yourselves in the stream while I recover." He watched them walk away towards the stream, and he smiled to have them safely back again.

*****

"Legolas you are going to be reasonable or I shall do something you will regret for a very long time." Glorfindel’s voice would have frightened an elf less stubborn than the one before him. Legolas just glared right back at him with mutiny in his eyes and an expression on his face that reminded Glorfindel all too clearly of Thranduil at his worst. He decided on a different approach. In battle, one selected tactics based upon the enemy at hand.

"Mellon nîn, you know it would please your father if you did his will in this. I will write and tell him how proudly you represented him." Glorfindel had seen Elrond use this tactic on Arwen with some success.

"Adar’s pleasure would last at best five minutes, and then he would forget and simply take my obedience as his due. You must offer me more, Glorfindil, or I shall ride to meet them just as I am."

Now, he understood. Legolas had something he desired from him and until he got it this war would have no end. Glorfindel wondered gloomily what sacrifice he was to be asked to make for the sake of peace and harmony and also to keep Thranduil from personally killing him when he found out that his son greeted the Peredhil in a travel-stained tunic. No, Glorfindel was sure that another balrog would be infinitely better than an angry Thranduil.

"What is it that you want, Legolas? Nay, do not try to look innocent with me. I have far too much experience with your father, and I have seen that gleam too often in his eyes. Let me hear your terms."

Legolas knew he had won then. "First, I want your word that you will never, ever refer to me or to Haldir as an ‘elfling’ again and if you slip we shall be allowed to punish you as we wish, even if it is to make you stand naked in front of your soldiers. That is the first thing."

"You would not dare!" Legolas smiled at the older elf, and suddenly Glorfindel was not so sure.

"Alright, I will agree to that term if only for the sake of Haldir, who is far nobler than you my spoiled prince. What is the second term?"

Legolas drew himself up but stepped back a few paces just to be safe. Glorfindel was a mighty warrior after all and the reach of his arms was long. Still, Legolas had learned the rules of engagement from Thranduil, and he was not afraid, just prudent.

"The second term is this, Glorfindel. I wish you to tell me and Haldir why you put bells on Asfaloth!"

Whatever Glorfindel had expected this was not it. For a moment he said nothing, and then he began to roar with laughter. He laughed until he was breathless and the tears streamed down his face. Legolas and Haldir found themselves laughing with him and suddenly Glorfindel put his arms about their shoulders and pulled the three of them to the ground where they continued to laugh until they were truly gasping for breath.

At last, when he could speak again, the great Glorfindel looked at the two of them and there was a gleam in his eye that they had never before seen. "If I tell you this deep secret, you must keep it from all, for if you speak then all will be spoiled, and I shall have no further joy in my life. Do you both swear?"

They lifted their hands to him and swore by all that they held dear and Glorfindel’s voice dropped to almost a whisper.

"I do it because it makes Elrond absolutely insane to hear them. When I ride by him, I make sure Asfaloth shakes his head, and I see the veins in Elrond’s neck start to swell, and it takes every ounce of his control not to kill me on the spot. He knows that in Lórien and your father’s realm it is whispered that the Great Glorfindel’s mind has been corrupted by his life in Imladris. He knows that all blame him, Elrond Peredhil, and there is nothing he can do or say about it to anyone. And, he knows that I know this as well, and that is the sweetest part of all." Glorfindel’s smile was like the sunshine, and they viewed him with deep awe at his brilliance. "Besides, Asfaloth likes the sound of them!"

*****

Celeborn needed no pomp or ceremony when he entered the camp of Glorfindel. He would leave that for when they crossed the ford. The sight of his old friend and the young ones returned would be all that he wished. So, he rode dressed simply as always in his plain tunic and wrapped himself in the grey cloak that Galadriel had woven for him with her own hands and pinned it at the neck with the brooch with which she had first pinned his cloak after their betrothal. He had told her then that it was the only ornament that he needed other than her love. Later, he would dress more properly to greet his Lady, and at the thought of Galadriel a great joy filled Celeborn’s heart.

Smiling, he dropped behind Gil-Galad so that he might ride the last few miles with the brothers of Haldir and their charge.

"These last miles are long ones, are they not, my brave ones?" He smiled at them and was proud of their bearing for, although an ineffable longing shone in their eyes, they still rode quiet and still as their brother had taught them, and Celeborn knew that whatever the desire of their hearts, they would attend him quietly and not even call out to their brother without his leave. Celeborn would not long withhold that permission, and he had purposely arranged this meeting with Glorfindel’s group to take place before they reached the borders of Elrond’s lands. "In truth, I can scarcely bear the longing to embrace him myself. You will grant your king one embrace before I give Haldir again to his brothers’ keeping?"

"We know he would never be content, my lord, unless he first greeted you, and we will gladly see it and bid you take as many embraces as you will."

"You and Orophin are generous as always with your treasure. Then, I shall let myself be a little greedy and hold him but a few moments before it comes your turn. Ride ahead now and see how generous you can be when Gil-Galad makes this same request to you. I promise it will be the last that you shall be asked to grant. So, ride and keep that old one company and see if you can yet get him to smile. I shall keep company with this lady in your place."

"Has anyone troubled to explain to you what will happen this day, my lady?" It was the first time since the attack that he had spoken to her. She had not seen his return in the night but woke to hear him still speaking low to Gil-Galad, and she had seen Gil-Galad’s arm lay on the shoulders of Celeborn for a moment as if to offer him the only comfort he could even as he knew it was too little.

"I know that we will meet an elven prince and that with him will be Rúmil and Orophin’s older brother and another warrior like Gil-Galad."

"Not quite like Gil-Galad, but just as renowned. You will like Glorfindel. All do, for he is fond of laughter and songs and, sadly, of jokes. He is a great torment to his friends at times, but you will like him, and he will take you under his great wings as he does all lost creatures. Go to him, lady, when you feel the rest of us are making you quite mad." He laughed at her amazement. "What has Rúmil told you of his brother?"

"Not much. Just that he and the prince were off fighting and had been in a land far from here and that he had returned at last and that they had missed him."

"Rúmil is wise beyond measure to describe things so simply. I should have made a big speech of it no doubt. It is a failing of elven lords as my wife would tell you." He smiled and BW found herself laughing.

"You have a wife?"

"Yes, and she is the greatest treasure that exists for me. Her name is Galadriel. You will meet her tonight for I doubt not that Master Elrond will have a feast ready to welcome us." He smiled at her sudden distress. "Calm yourself, dear lady, for my Galadriel will have appropriate clothing for you to wear and until you don it, I shall give you one of my own cloaks to cover yourself and you shall have no need to feel shame at your appearance."

"How did you know that was what bothered me?"

"I was not the father of a daughter for nothing. It oft took the combined efforts of Galadriel and myself to get Celebrían dressed to her satisfaction and her mother’s." His eyes softened at the memory of his daughter. "Will you permit a small liberty?" She nodded and, to her amazement, Celeborn leaned over and pulled the clip from her hair and released it upon her shoulders. "You will feel prettier if you wear it thus."

*****

Into the clearing rode the tallest elf BW had ever seen. To make things worse, he was seated upon the largest and scariest white horse that she had ever seen. The combination was so overpowering that she felt a mad urge to kick the mare’s sides and ride away quickly. Deciding that was probably a bad idea as she would only fall off and probably tear Celeborn’s cloak she held her ground. That has got to be Glorfindel or I’m a duck. Now which one is Haldir?

Beside the great elf were two younger elves, almost as blond but not quite as tall. One was dressed in the uniform of the Galadhrim who rode with Celeborn and the other in a tunic of dark greyed green with an intricate embroidery of leaves and vines. The one with the uniform must be Haldir, so that leaves the other as the prince. Prince of what I wonder? Nobody in this crowd is very good about necessary details. She watched as the Galadhrim warrior slipped down from his mount and walked toward them. Celeborn walked to meet him followed by Gil-Galad and the brothers of Haldir. The king and his warrior in turn each embraced Haldir.  Then Celeborn took from the two brothers the second bow that each had carried and kept in safety and with each its quiver and he handed these to Haldir and to Legolas and to Legolas gave he also his white knives that Celeborn himself had carried for him.  And, after he had done this, Celeborn turned and motioned to the brothers and released Haldir to them. BW found she was crying as she watched the arms of Haldir embrace both of his brothers at once and hold them as if he would never again release them.

"Well, I suggest we leave them to it. If I know the Galadhrim, it will be at least half an hour before anyone stops crying long enough to notice we’re gone. Gil-Galad will watch to see that none breaks the others neck accidently in all this embracing."

She was startled for she had not heard the great elf approach her as she watched the joyful reunion before her. Even on foot, he was far too tall she decided. He bowed to her and smiled.

"And you must be the lady of whom I have heard? The one who knows where New Zealand is? Master Elrond will be very, very glad to see you I assure you, for he and the Lady Galadriel have been most perplexed as to where New Zealand might be." The prince snorted. That was the only word for it, but Glorfindel did naught but smile sweetly at him. "And this one who finds he is suddenly coughing is Legolas, son of Thranduil, a prince of the Woodland Realm if you can believe it." The prince snorted again but recovered quickly and bowed his head to her correctly. "Now, you must excuse the prince, my lady, for he will have just the right amount of time to change his garments before we ride to meet the delegation from Imladris. And, if he does it not, I just may be forced to kill him.  And, Legolas, do not forget the robe of velvet that I am sure Thranduil has sent you."

Legolas face was dark but he bowed deeply to her and to Glorfindel and walked away. Lightly, Glorfindel touched the neck of the great horse standing beside him, and Asfaloth shook his head so that his silver bells made music in the woodland air. BW was sure she heard the sound of strangled laughter coming from behind her, but she dared not stare after the prince to see whether it might be he as she suspected.

*****

And they waited upon a small hill near banks of the Bruinen, just inside the realm of Elrond. Approaching them they saw the party that had come to escort them in honor unto Imladris.

Celeborn, Lord of Lórien, upon his grey horse that had been a gift of his Lady to bear him ever in safety, stood at their riding’s head. Beside him upon Arod of the Rohirrim waited Legolas, son of Thranduil and there in stead of the great king to whom he was beloved.

And both were clothed in all the splendor of their realms and upon their brows were the crowns that marked their station, the silver of Lórien and the simple braided vines of the Woodland that had ever marked its kings, done now in mithril and gold and gems as red as the berries of their woodland realm.

Gil-Galad and Glorfindel on their horses stood behind these lords, and the small silver bells of Asfaloth made music in the breezes.

And with them were Haldir and his brothers and the maiden they had carried safely through all dangers to this place.

Behind them stood in stillness the company of the Galadhrim and of the Wood-Elves who had ever stood as their friends, and in the forefront of their company rode still double with their comrades the captives who were now free.

At the head of those greeting them from Imladris rode the sons of Elrond. And, when Celeborn beheld them, his heart grew full of pride for his Lady had sent their grandsons to him clothed not in the fashion of Imladris but in the garments of the Galadhrim and upon their brows she had placed circlets of gold and silver fashioned in the shapes of the mellyrn leaves. And in the faces of Elladan and Elrohir saw Celeborn his daughter once again.

And at the side of the sons of Elrond came Aragorn, King Elessar as now he was and of the House of Telcontar, and behind him on his horse rode Gimli, son of Glóin, Lord of the Glittering Caves. And the eyes of Prince Legolas beheld them and were softened by his unshed tears as he rode slowly to meet them.