Chapter 3: First Meetings

The One Yén Anniversary of the end of the War of the Last Alliance

Lothlorien

Walking back to her flet past the archery range, Lindomiel heard the distinct sound of arrows sinking into a target in rapid succession. Elves practiced archery with enthusiasm, so this would not have been surprising except for the fact that it was well after dark. From the path she could see the flickering of torch light on the range.

‘Who would be practicing at dark,’ she laughed to herself, detouring over to the range to have a look.

There she saw one of the elves with the delegation from Greenwood. She did not know that for certain—she had not been introduced to any of those folk yet—but she assumed that was the case since she did not recognize this elf. She watched him a moment. He was slaughtering the poor target at the opposite end of the range. Firing arrows as fast as he could nock and draw his bow, he had embedded at least fifty arrows into the center portion of the target. The target itself would be completely ruined.

Despite the fact that he was a complete storm cloud at the moment, Lindomiel found herself admiring his practiced and graceful movements, impressed that the formal robes he was still wearing—Lindomiel assumed he must have come directly from some type of diplomatic meeting—did not impede his skill. Shaking her head, she decided to see if she could help improve his mood, for the archery practice did not seem to be helping and she doubted the poor target would last much longer before it disintegrated entirely. To that end, she walked up quietly behind him.

“I think you killed it, my lord,” she said softly into his ear.

Clearly caught off guard, he whirled around, eyes wide, to face her. His swift movement startled her and she stepped back involuntarily, but even in her alarm, she noticed the elf’s eyes. They held unchecked fury at the moment, flashing with a warrior’s cold aggression, but they were a beautiful bright green like leaves in spring.

As swiftly as the elf had turned, he froze and relaxed his posture, lowering his bow and holding up one hand, palm out in a pacifying gesture. “I beg your pardon, my lady. I did not mean to startle you, but I did not hear you approach. I was not expecting…”

She laughed, interrupting his apology. “Its quite alright, my lord. I should know better than to sneak up behind angry elves with their bow drawn.”

“Am I angry, my lady?” asked the elf, now amused.

“Surely you do not abuse the target that badly under normal conditions, my lord?”

The elf looked back at the target in response to her question and laughed, as if really looking at it for the first time. “Oh dear. I think I might owe Amroth a new target,” he chuckled mostly to himself.

“Indeed,” Lindomiel agreed, eyes still bright with mirth. “What ever has vexed you so, my lord? I hope you have not found the hospitality here wanting. If so, I am certain I can help you rectify that situation.”

He smiled at her. “No, my lady. I simply found the negotiations…frustrating. I thought I would vent a little tension.”

“So you are with the delegation from Eryn Galen. I suspected as much. We had all heard these would be easily formed treaties. I hope that will still be the case, my lord.”

The elf frowned now. “Nothing is going to be easy with that stubborn…” he visibly cut himself off in deference to the elleth with him. “Forgive me again, my lady. I do not wish to speak badly of any of your folk. There is one…whose personality seems to clash with mine. That is all. But it will not stand in the way of these treaties. They are very important to both our realms.” The elf seemed relieved that the lady with him was amused and not insulted by his comments.

“You must be referring to Lord Amglaur, King Amroth’s uncle,” she said with a knowing expression. The elf remained silent and that told her all she needed to know. “He is well known for his temper,” she added, hoping to draw him out.

The elf let out a long breath. “Well, I fear I am well known for mine in Eryn Galen. So that may be a source of difficulty. One of us is going to have to be in better control than we were today.”

“Well then, my lord, it might as well be you because I can assure you that it will not be Lord Amglaur. Come. Let us retrieve your arrows and I will take you to see the most beautiful sight in all of Lorien. Then when you have to face Lord Amglaur, you can think of it and find peace. It works for me when I must deal with him.”

She walked towards the target, aware of the elf’s laughter, and began pulling out the arrows carefully.

‘You have already shown me the most beautiful sight in Lorien,’ he thought to himself as he watched her slender form extracting the arrows. She was obviously young, he noted while studying her as surreptitiously as he could. ‘Far too young and sweet for me. But a distraction might be nice,’ he thought. 

The arrows back in their quiver, he found himself being led down one of the paths in Lorien. They made polite conversation and she pointed out interesting features of the city while they walked. He had been here many times and was very familiar with the sights, but she told amusing little stories associated with them as they walked and he soon found himself thoroughly engrossed in her company. Finally, they came into an area that opened up to a large pond, fed by a stream cascading into it over a short fall of rocks. The area was lit with lanterns at night so the water sparkled. She smiled upon seeing his somewhat awed expression.

“This is beautiful,” he whispered. “I do not think I have ever seen this part of Lothlorien.”

She took his arm, leaning on it lightly, and stood closer to his side with an innocent intimacy that startled the elf from his reverie. He focused on the elleth whose arm was entwined with his own.

“Indeed it is beautiful. The young children swim here in the summer, for these are the shallowest pools.” She laughed. “My friends and I still swim here ourselves sometimes. This is such a relaxing place. In the morning, the sun rises right over the waterfall and reflects in the water. It looks as if the sun itself is spilling over the cliff.” She looked up at him. “You should try coming here before your meetings begin. In the early morning you would be alone and perhaps such a pleasant start to the day would make the rest of it seem less trying.”

He smiled at her, genuinely thankful for the suggestion. “I will, my lady. Tell me, do you often come here at sunrise?”

Her face lit up. “Oh yes. I love the sunrise and here it is spectacular.”

“I also have a spot in Eryn Galen where I go every morning to watch the sunrise. There is an especially old tree at the edge of the forest. We built a talan in it and it makes a lovely place to watch either sunrise or sunset.” He grinned at her. “It is also a popular place for trysts.”

She raised her eyebrows. “It does not sound very private.”

“The ladder to the talan is a rope ladder. You can pull it up after you.”

“I see,” she said, laughing.

They sat on a bench by the pond and spoke for nearly an hour. She described Lothlorien to him, but mainly now they spoke of the Greenwood. She had never traveled from Lothlorien, having been born there. That confirmed she was young.

A tryst in front of that lovely pond would have been all too easy. The lady had innocently taken his hand when they sat and was tracing patterns on it as they talked. She was easily teased by light barbs comparing Lothlorien to Greenwood and collapsed into giggles every time she fell into one of his traps. But she gave as good as she got, teasing him about diplomatic strategies (or foibles) and making comments that clearly showed she had been raised expecting to be an active member of the court in Lothlorien. Somehow the elf found himself less interested in a tryst and more interested in getting to know this young lady better. ‘She may be young, but she has a good affect on me,’ he thought realizing how much more relaxed he was than he had been when he had left the negotiations.

Finally the elf looked out over the waterfall and noticed it now glimmered with the light of the moon as well as the lanterns.

“I think it is well past time for you to get home, my lady. Your family must be worried about you by now and I know the other members of my delegation are likely frantic about my whereabouts.”

She smiled at him. “I often stay out late. It is perfectly safe here. But you need some sleep. Trust me, you do not want to yawn in Lord Amglaur’s face tomorrow. That would not advance your negotiations.”

“No, that would not make the best impression,” he agreed, standing and offering her his arm. They began to walk along the path. “Tell me, my lady, do you know the court well here? Might I look forward to seeing you at the festivities when Lord Elrond and Lord Cirdan arrive?”

“Yes, I will be attending. And I know the court fairly well.” She smiled and there was something about her eyes…a little impishness in them that piqued her companion’s curiosity. Her answer had been fairly evasive, he realized.

“Does your father serve the court here?” he asked directly.

“Indeed,” was the simple reply. Though her eyes were now downcast, he could tell she was laughing.

“And why are you laughing, my lady?”

She looked up at him with a completely sober expression. “Am I laughing, my lord?”

He looked at her appraisingly. “You were. Pray tell what is the joke, my lady, for I have missed it completely.”

She stopped and dropped his arm, standing in front of him with a broad but sheepish smile. “Very well. I am sorry, my lord. I suppose I have taken advantage of you, somewhat.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And how is that, my lady?”

“Well, you have not yet asked my name.”

His eyebrows climbed even higher. That was certainly true. He had spoken to this lady for several hours without the slightest idea what her name was. “I beg your pardon for my poor manners, my lady. I am accustomed to Eryn Galen where I know everyone. May I ask your name?”

Her smile deepened. “I am Lindomiel. Lindomiel Amglauriel.”

At that, the elf’s jaw dropped slightly before he caught himself. He could close his mouth, but he could not stop the spread of color across his cheeks—he often cursed his fair complexion for this very reason.

“Forgive me, lady Lindomiel. I certainly did not mean to insult your father…”

She waved him silent and took his arm to continue walking. “Yes you did and so do a lot of people. He is not well liked, but the friends he has are very loyal to him.” She laughed. “I am quite accustomed to people’s reactions to my father. And I am certainly glad I will never have to negotiate anything with him.”

The elf still looked at her ruefully. “I appreciate your indulgence, my lady. Again, I apologize.”

She shook her head dismissively.

Looking down at her, he smiled again. “Well now I am doubly motivated to try to find some common ground with your lord father. I need to conclude these treaties and I would like his permission to see his daughter more regularly.”

She returned his smile in response to that statement.

“Would you like that, my lady?” he said with a slightly teasing voice.

“I suppose I would not object,” she said airily.

Then he laughed outright. “Well perhaps you should know my name before you decide.”

They had reached her flet, apparently, because she stopped at the stairs that led up to it. Again she stood in front of him and took his hand in hers. His eyes were fairly twinkling with mirth when she did.

“Very well. It might make conversation easier if I knew your name. What is your name, my lord?”

He grinned wickedly at her. “Thranduil.”

The amusement vanished from her face and she stared at him, speechless.

“Turn about is fair play, my lady Lindomiel Amglauriel,” he replied with emphasis on the patronymic.

“Oh you are everything my Adar said you were before your arrival and then some,” she exclaimed with a laugh. Thranduil raised his eyebrows at that statement. He was sure Amglaur had not said anything particularly flattering given his behavior earlier. “I will have to keep an eye on you.”

Thranduil took her hand in his and kissed it lightly. “I hope you do,” he said before bowing slightly and walking down the path to the guest chambers.

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A/N: I am going to add some members to the canon family trees but ONLY to those family trees that are not well defined by Tolkien. Elrond will have no extra daughters etc. In this chapter, I have given King Amdir of Lorien a younger brother named Amglaur. His wife's name is Limmiel and their daughter, the cousin of the current King Amroth, is Lindomiel.

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Yén--an elven measurement of time, 144 solar years. Elves like to measure in twelves.

Eryn Galen--Greenwood (Eryn=Forest/wood, Calen=Green). The original name of the forest Thranduil ruled before it was claimed by shadow and began to be called Mirkwood by Men.