Chapter 21: Cementing Positions

Marti had been utterly horrified to learn that Thranduil and the little interloper were actually betrothed. She suffered it as silently as she could, realizing that her outburst to Lindomiel and Amglaur likely played some role in driving the couple closer together and thus closing the easiest route to her goal. Marti would not allow another burst of temper to make fulfilling her desires even more difficult. But weaving in the workshop and watching the silver betrothal ring flash on Lindomiel’s finger as she worked the shuttle on her loom was nearly unbearable.

To make matters worse, the little princess spent an inordinate amount of time in the workshop during her betrothal, weaving a tapestry that she intended to give the king as a wedding present. It was a large, stylized map of Greenwood and its immediate surrounds overlaid on the royal crest. She had woven the map in rich full colors and the crest in muted colors lending the tapestry a layered look. The result was stunning to behold. Everyone knew Thranduil enjoyed maps, so all the ladies in the workshop were anxious to see the king’s reaction to the gift. They all loved it.

Marti hated it. Such a large, complex pattern and weave was well beyond the little princess’ skill level. Marti had initially taken comfort in the fact that Lindomiel would undoubtedly make a disaster of it. With the guidance of the queen and the other ladies in the workshop, however, the tapestry was turning out wonderfully. Marti hated them. Lindomiel was not from Greenwood. She had no right to use the royal crest. As Marti bitterly watched the silver ring on Lindomiel’s finger flash in the light as she wove, a dark thought plagued her and fueled her anger: when that silver ring became a gold one, that would give the little interloper the right to use the royal crest of Greenwood. Marti hated her.

The scathing looks that Marti continuously cast Lindomiel’s way soon led Dieneryn to request that Marti finish her current project as quickly as possible and not return the workshop to begin another. Marti abandoned her work on the loom all too happily that very day. That cursed workshop no longer served any purpose. As quickly as she had appeared in the capital city of the Woodland Realm after the war, Marti disappeared. No one missed her.

*~*~*

Lindomiel thoroughly enjoyed the year of her betrothal. In addition to working on the tapestry that she intended to give to Thranduil as a wedding present, she spent much of her time learning the tasks she would manage as Queen of Greenwood. Lindomiel shared with her mother, Limmiel, the responsibility of managing Amroth’s household in Lorien. She knew such duties amounted to a tremendous quantity of work and she could not imagine how Dieneryn accomplished them while at the same time serving on Thranduil’s council. When Lindomiel suggested that she would be happy to help Dieneryn in Greenwood as she had helped her mother in Lorien, Dieneryn was all too happy to accept the offer.

The King of the Woodland Realm employed a staff of well over one hundred ellyn and ellyth to do the every day labor of providing firewood and water, cooking, cleaning, laundry, sewing and attending the personal needs of the royal family and its guests. Dieneryn also managed the ‘outside’ household labor such as the stables and the gardens—both decorative and those that provided food for the dining hall. Each division of servants had a master—there was the kitchen clerk and the head cook and baker, the wine steward, the laundry mistress, the housekeeper, the valet and the lady’s maids, the head seamstress, the master gardener and the stable master. Dieneryn worked directly with these ellyn and ellyth and they directed their staff. Lindomiel had managed the gardens and kitchens in Lorien, so Dieneryn turned those tasks over to her in Greenwood.

Lindomiel also spent time with Thranduil and his council. Matters directly relating to governance were new territory to Lindomiel and not one she would have intruded upon without invitation, but Thranduil seemed perfectly willing to involve her. This pleased Lindomiel for several reasons. The primary one was that she simply enjoyed spending the time with Thranduil. Lindomiel knew perfectly well that a king often worked from dawn to dusk. If she could spend some time with her betrothed husband by sharing in his work, she would be happy to do so. Besides that, she was surprised to find that some of the work was fairly interesting. Lindomiel knew next to nothing about strategy, tactics, weaponry or logistics, so military discussions were largely lost on her. But Greenwood was a large kingdom with many scattered villages and a wide variety of needs, as Thranduil had once observed when speaking to her father. Lindomiel had a natural ability to organize small pieces of information without loosing sight of the overall picture—it was that skill that she used when weaving large tapestries. She found it was easy to apply to organizing supply and demand in the villages and she rather enjoyed doing so. She liked organizing things and there was a great deal of variety in the task that made it interesting. Additionally, the needs of the villagers could sometimes only be met by trade with the Mannish villages on the forest borders. Lindomiel wanted more opportunities to meet with Men—she had enjoyed that experience. When that topic arose, Thranduil jokingly promised that foreign relations could be entirely her realm if she so desired. The king was a little shocked when she sincerely responded that she would be happy to take that responsibility and highly amused when Hallion urged him to accept Lindomiel’s offer.

What little free time Lindomiel had between learning her new responsibilities to Greenwood and working on her wedding present, she spent with Thranduil. As they had before their betrothal, they often found time together during lunch and they always spent evenings together. They walked along the paths in the city or through the forest, eventually finding someplace to sit. Lindomiel would lean back against Thranduil’s chest into his embrace and they would talk or sing or tell stories. She loved the warmth of his body as she relaxed in his arms; the weight of his arms around her waist, resting on her hips; his cheek against her hair; the sound of his deep, melodic voice as they spoke; the foresty, spicy scent that was his. All these sensations gave her an overwhelming sense of peace and satisfaction and yearning at the same time. She was counting the days until this betrothal ended and she knew Thranduil was as well.

*~*~*

Beginning a few weeks before the wedding, guests began to arrive in Greenwood from across Middle Earth. All of Lindomiel’s family and friends came. It seemed that Lorien must surely be nearly empty given the number of guests present from the Golden Wood. Dieneryn and Amglaur had also issued polite invitations to their peers in Rivendell and Lindon without any real expectation that anyone would come from such distances. Thranduil was very pleasantly surprised when both Elrond and Celebrian came. Along with them traveled Celeborn and Galadriel. Thranduil was very happy to have his cousin present. So much so that he even managed to enjoy his cousin’s wife’s company, to everyone’s amazement. When Cirdan came all the way from the havens, Thranduil was truly touched. That was a two-month trip one way. To attend to this wedding, Cirdan would dedicate nearly half a year. That was quite a sacrifice.

With all the guests present, every evening meal seemed to evolve into a party to some degree. Merrymaking spilled over from the dining hall to the courtyard in front of it. Drink flowed, games were played, music filled the forest and everyone celebrated the happiness of the king and future queen.

And the couple went slowly insane.

In these crowds, it was completely impossible for Thranduil and Lindomiel to enjoy any time alone, or even any time to speak to each other. If Thranduil’s friends and family were not dragging him off for drinks or games, Lindomiel’s friends surrounded her to discuss the details of the preparations or the good looks of her betrothed.

And Lindomiel thought she might kill the next person that did that if she could not at least speak to him soon.

Two days before the wedding was to take place, Celeborn, Galadriel, Elrond and Celebrian sat at one of the tables that had been set up in the courtyard. The couples were watching the dancing and games that were going on around them while sitting arm-in-arm. Elrond and Celebrian were particularly enjoying themselves, since they were practically newlyweds themselves, having only been married some thirty years. As they spoke, Elrond felt his wife’s body shaking and he looked down at her. She was laughing and trying to conceal it. Galadriel was looking at her with one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“What do you and your lady mother find so funny, meleth nin?” he asked, laughing lightly himself.

At the question, Celebrian surrendered to her laughter. It was Galadriel that responded. “Look at poor Thranduil,” she said, looking back at him herself.

Elrond did as his mother-in-law bid, following her eyes. He burst into laughter. Thranduil looked like a trapped animal. He was standing with his back against a tree surrounded by elves from the court in Lothlorien. They were talking enthusiastically, after apparently drinking with equal enthusiasm, completely oblivious to the fact that Thranduil was looking between them as if trying to judge the likelihood of escape from an enemy. Occasionally, his gaze would flick to Lindomiel.

Elrond focused on the bride for a moment. She was sitting at a table with a group of ladies. They all had sketches of some sort in their hands and were thrusting them in her face. Lindomiel looked like a doe in the hunter’s sights. Her eyes were wide and suffering. Her mind was clearly anywhere but where she was. She was nodding absently and trying to dodge the sketches to catch sight of Thranduil.

“This is really too sad,” Elrond said, tightening his grip around his wife’s waist.

“Indeed. Did you know her father has been here all season? He insisted on spending the summer in Eryn Galen.” Celebrian said meaningfully.

Elrond groaned. Celeborn had been living in Rivendell as he and Celebrian courted and were betrothed. He knew the lengths he had gone to in order to find Celebrian alone.

His reaction caused Celeborn to raise his eyebrows and fix a cool look on Elrond. Elrond returned it placidly as Galadriel laughed quietly.

After watching Thranduil and Lindomiel suffer for a few moments, Elrond looked down at his wife in his arms. “Shall we help them a little?” he suggested mischievously.

Celeborn and Galadriel glanced at each other, smiling at that proposal. Celebrian looked at her husband with concern. “Do you really think Thranduil would appreciate that? You and he could not be described as friends, meleth.”

“That is part of what makes it funny, iell nin,” Galadriel responded in a soft voice.

Elrond laughed. “The enemy of your enemy is your friend, Celebrian. Thranduil will take any aid. I know this from experience.” He looked at Celeborn and winked. “You and your lady mother go fetch Lindomiel. Celeborn and I will get Thranduil. We will take them to our talan. No one would look for them there.”

Celebrian gave her husband a playful grin and stood.

Elrond and Celeborn saw Thranduil eyeing them as they approached him. The king’s brow furrowed as Elrond stepped neatly between the surrounding elves and took Thranduil possessively by the arm. He interrupted them smoothly.

“You will have to excuse me, my lords. He is a king after all and I have been asked to fetch him to handle some questions. I fear he will be gone for some time.” Elrond began to pull Thranduil away.

“But I hear a contest is starting,” Celeborn was saying to the elves that had surrounded Thranduil. “You should join in. Right over there.” He pointed to a far off glade where elves were indeed gaming.

With that, Elrond and Celeborn dragged Thranduil bodily from the crowd and towards the guest chambers. Thranduil continued to eye his cousins, his expression demanding an explanation. They responded only with a smile. When they reached the stairs to Elrond’s flet, Thranduil finally baulked.

“No one asked you to bring me anywhere, Elrond. Much less here. What are we playing at?”

Elrond glanced at his father-in-law and then looked at Thranduil placidly. Thranduil could see the wicked gleam in his eye. Without a word, Elrond more firmly pulled the king up the stairs.

When they reached the platform of the flet. Elrond openly grinned at Thranduil. “Consider this a token of friendship, Thranduil. For I do wish to be your friend.” His grin became very sly. “And I too suffered a year betrothal under my father-in-law’s eye,” he said meaningfully. “And worse still, my mother-in-law’s eye. You have nothing on me, Thranduil.”

Celeborn laughed out loud at that declaration as Elrond opened the door to the sitting room of his flet. Inside, Celebrian and Galadriel were trying to keep Lindomiel in place. When Thranduil entered, Lindomiel looked at him and then between the other elf lords and ladies with dawning realization and rising amusement.

“We thought you two would enjoy a few minutes to be able to talk to one another,” Celebrian said innocently while walking out the door with her mother. Galadriel was looking at Thranduil with bright eyes and one of her half smiles.

“I will have a guard at the foot of the stairs, Thranduil,” Elrond whispered as he turned to follow his wife.

Thranduil grabbed his peer’s upper arm firmly and Elrond looked into his eyes. There he saw profound gratitude. “Le hannon, mellon nin.”

Elrond only nodded, a slight smile on his lips.

*~*~*

The day before his wedding, Thranduil sat in his office, flipping through reports and correspondence, trying to care what any of it said. His mind was more firmly focused on the few hours he had spent with Lindomiel the night before, courtesy of Lord Elrond and his family. That was the most time he had spent with his betrothed since the guests began arriving and it was a delightful gift. Thranduil smiled, wondering what his father would think of the fact that Thranduil did firmly look upon the heir of Gil-galad as a friend.

The king’s wandering thoughts were interrupted when the door to his office opened suddenly. Thranduil looked up with a frown but his eyes widened with alarm when he took in the scene before him—it had been Conuiön, the captain of his personal guard, that flung open the door. He stood in the doorway between Amglaur and Dieneryn, with a carefully controlled expression on his face. Thranduil looked between the three elves warily before focusing on Conuiön.

“Can I help you with something, Conuiön?” he asked calmly.

“Yes, my lord. You could if you can tell me where Lady Lindomiel is. Have you seen her this morning?”

Thranduil stared at his guard for a moment and felt his heart begin to race. Conuiön, Amglaur and Dieneryn were anxiously waiting his response to that question.

“I saw Lindomiel last night. I have not seen her this morning. Is something wrong?” He forced himself to maintain a quiet voice.

“Where did you leave her last night, my lord?” Conuiön asked.

Thranduil’s brow furrowed. “At the foot of the stairs of Lord Elrond’s talan. We spent some time there last night. Is something wrong?” he repeated more insistently.

“Did you notice where Lady Lindomiel went or did she tell you where she intended to go?”

Thranduil was finding it difficult to speak. His heart was now racing enough that breathing seemed difficult. “She was going to the queen’s workshop. She said she had a project that she wanted to finish and take off the loom before the wedding. I saw her go in that direction, but I did not see her enter the workshop. Now answer me this time, Conuiön, or you will regret it—is something wrong?”

“I think you had better come with me, my lord,” was the only response Conuiön offered.

Thranduil stood and glared at the captain of his guard angrily. “Why?” he demanded.

“Ion nin, come with us. You need to see something and we need to determine how we are going to manage this,” Dieneryn said gently.

Drawing a calming breath, Thranduil scowled slightly at his mother, but followed Conuiön from his office. His frown deepened when four guards in addition to Conuiön surrounded him, his mother and Amglaur as they walked across the courtyard in the direction of the queen’s workshop. When they entered it, his mother and guards led him to a loom. On it was a tapestry that was apparently all but finished. It had been cut to shreds while still on the loom. Thranduil’s looked at the damage with disgust—who ever did this committed a frighteningly violent act. Then realization dawned.

“This was a project Lindomiel was working on?” he whispered no longer able to hide the fear he felt rising steadily.

Dieneryn nodded. “She made it for you as a wedding present. She has been working on it since you were betrothed.”

He turned to Conuiön. “And you do not know where Lindomiel is? You cannot find her?”

Conuiön returned Thranduil’s gaze steadily. “She is not in her chambers, any of the dining facilities, or with any of her friends or family that we know of. No, my lord. We cannot locate her.”

Thranduil’s eyes scanned the room and the vicinity of the destroyed tapestry again. There was no blood or signs of a struggle. Just the shredded tapestry. But there apparently was no sign of Lindomiel either. He turned back to Conuiön. “Bring Engwe, Aradunnon and Dollion to my office,” he ordered as calmly as he could, moving to return to his office himself.

Conuiön caught his arm. “I already deployed Dollion’s patrols to look for her in the forest around the city. Aradunnon is coordinating that. Engwe is searching with my guards inside the city.”

Thranduil blinked at that. “And what are you doing, captain?”

“Staying with you, my lord, until we find out what this is about. And you are all returning to the Royal Chambers.”

Conuiön prepared to enforce that order as furious, defiant looks appeared on both Thranduil’s and Amglaur’s faces. Keeping the King of Greenwood and the Prince of Lothlorien in a safe place until Lindomiel was found would undoubtedly be a difficult task.

*~*~*

Elleth/ellyth-Female elf(s)

Ellon/ellyn--Male elf(s)

Naneth/nana--Mother/mum

Adar/ada--Father/dad

Iell nin--My daughter

Meleth (nin)--(My) Love

Le hannon, mellon nin-- Thank you, my friend.

Ion nin--My son