IX: Meet Me In Thranduil’s Stronghold

Elrond of Imladris was not happy.

Glorfindel recognized all the signs. The elf-lord was outwardly calm, his expression impassive. When he spoke, his voice was whisper-soft and the tone was what one would expect if its owner were discussing the feeding and caring of rosebushes. All bad signs as far as the former lord of the House of the Golden Flower was concerned.

The sight of Estel’s blood-encrusted sword lying beside the edge of the path but with no sign of Estel himself left both Elrond and Glorfindel several shades of white, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the Wood Elves now cleaning up the mess of battle. Elrond picked up the sword, staring at it as if he expected it to speak, telling him where its master had gone.

One of the Wood Elves approached the two Noldor. "Mae govannen, Lord Elrond," he said, giving the elf-lord a slight bow as he came near. "I regret the manner of your welcome to my adar’s realm."

Elrond did not respond but before the silence became too uncomfortable, Glorfindel answered for him, bowing slightly to the other elf. "Mae govannen, Prince Legolas. We seem to have misplaced our companion. Perhaps you would be so kind as to retrieve him for us."

Glorfindel’s tone was mild, but the underlying sense of disapproval was evident to all and not a few of the Wood Elves were heard to mutter their own disapproval at the way this Noldo addressed their beloved prince.

Elrond spoke at that point. "I will go myself." He wiped the blade clean with a rag that Glorfindel had found for him. "He could not have gone far. Perhaps if we call for him."

Legolas shook his head, placing a restraining hand on the Lord of Imladris. "It would do no good, my lord. Please, let me find him. The trees will tell me where he is."

"Surely an elf, even one of the Noldor, could find his way back to the path," sneered one of the Wood Elves standing next to Legolas. Some of the other ellyn sniggered.

"Our companion is a mortal," Glorfindel answered, glaring at the ellon who had spoken.

"Why then should we concern ourselves with a mere mortal, my prince?" asked another of Legolas’ companions. "If he is foolish enough to leave the path, let the forest deal with him as it will."

Before either Elrond or Glorfindel could react, Legolas rounded on the speaker, his grey eyes flashing with anger. "You do not know what you say, Bronweg. Foolish or not, he is no mere mortal. Lord Elrond’s companion is Aragorn son of Arathorn and heir to the thrones of Gondor and Arnor." Several of the elves looked at their prince in wonder and not a few threw surreptitious glances at the two Noldor. Glorfindel even heard one or two mutter "Isildur’s Heir."

"But even if he were not," Legolas continued, ignoring the others’ reactions, "he is the Lord Elrond’s companion and therefore a guest of my adar... and mine."

Bronweg blushed at the reprimand, and with a short bow muttered an apology, which, Glorfindel noticed, Elrond ignored. Instead, the elf-lord faced the forest, his eyes half closed in concentration. "I cannot sense him. He could not have gone far, yet nowhere do I feel him."

Legolas glanced at Glorfindel with an unhappy look before addressing Elrond. "My lord, I will find him and bring him to my adar. You have my word on this, but you and Lord Glorfindel must continue with the escort."

Elrond turned to the prince, his eyes bright with a suppressed fury that forced several of the Wood Elves back a step or two, though Legolas stood firm. "Find him."

It was not a request and several of the elves surrounding them bristled at the high-handed manner in which their prince was being addressed, but Legolas merely bowed again, his right hand over his heart. "I will, my lord." Then, straightening he began issuing orders. Two of the escort would go with Legolas to find the Lord Aragorn, as Legolas referred to Estel when speaking to the other Wood Elves, much to Glorfindel’s approval. The rest would act as escort to the Lords Elrond and Glorfindel and would make all haste to Thranduil’s Stronghold. At the last moment, Elrond approached the Woodland prince, holding out Estel’s sword to him.

"My son will want this when you find him," Elrond said softly and Glorfindel, long acquainted with the son of Eärendil, ached at the pain in his friend’s voice. Legolas must have picked up on it, for he smiled at the elf-lord with compassion.

"I am sure he will, my lord, and be grateful. I will find him, Ada Elrond. I will bring your son back to you."

Elrond stared at the younger elf for a long moment, then nodded, stepping back to see to his horse.

Legolas turned to one of the guards who would be accompanying him in his search. "Laslaerion, we will be bringing Lord Aragorn’s sword with us." Laslaerion took the sword with a short bow, wrapped the blade in a blanket and with the aid of the other guard, whose name Glorfindel could not recall, strapped the sword to his back.

Shortly thereafter, they were ready to depart. Legolas and the other two elves melted into the woods without another word, for what else could be said at this juncture that had not already been said? Then Bronweg approached Elrond and Glorfindel, giving them both a bow. "When you are ready, my lords."

Elrond stood staring at the spot where Legolas had entered the forest for a moment longer, then turned to the Wood Elf with a nod, "Let us go then."

****

They did not travel far, for already the day was nearly spent. Elrond rode in silence, refusing even to speak with Glorfindel, who wisely refrained from trying to force the Lord of Imladris out of his misery. The escort, perhaps out of respect, remained mostly silent as well, speaking in soft tones whenever necessary. When they finally stopped to rest for the night, Glorfindel had to intercept Elrond’s horse, for Elrond was not paying attention to the fact that they had stopped.

"We rest here for the night, Elrond," Glorfindel said quietly when Elrond came out of his reverie long enough to notice him. Wordlessly Elrond nodded and dismounted. When he would have seen to his horse, Glorfindel shook his head. "I will see to Tologyll. Go and rest. That’s an order, otornya."

Elrond started at the address. Rarely did Glorfindel use that term except in private, ever conscious of their relationship as lord and sworn vassal. That he used it now spoke volumes to Elrond.

"I am sorry, gwador nîn," Elrond said with some remorse. "My mind..."

"It’s all right, Elrond. I understand. Truly, I do. Go and rest and I will join you shortly."

Elrond nodded and went towards the fire that the escort had built in a small clearing not far from the road. The other elves made room for him, though he barely noticed their existence. None spoke to him, for which he was grateful. Soon, Glorfindel joined him, though not before snagging some stew for the both of them, setting one of the bowls into Elrond’s hands and ordering him to eat.

Elrond complied, though he could not afterwards say if the stew was any good, for he did not taste it. Glorfindel waited until after the elf-lord had eaten, though, before taking him to task.

"You’re moping, Elrond," Glorfindel said accusingly. Elrond looked at him in surprise. "I expect the twins to mope and the Valar know they do it often enough when on patrol and things don’t go their way, but I didn’t think you would."

"I couldn’t sense him, Glorfindel," Elrond explained, his voice harsh with guilt. "Always have I been able to sense his presence, just as I sense the presence of the twins or Arwen. Yet, here, I sense nothing. I fear it can only mean one thing."

"No, Elrond!" Glorfindel hissed, keeping his voice low, though he had no doubt the other elves could hear their conversation. "It doesn’t mean anything. There are any number of reasons why you might not sense him, the enchantments which permeate this forest being one of them. And I do not think you can sense anyone when they are unconscious."

Elrond looked enquiringly at the other elf and Glorfindel nodded.

"Think about it. When Elladan suffered that fall two years ago and was knocked unconscious, were you able to sense his presence then? Was it not until he regained consciousness that you were able to tell us where to find him, though we’d been searching for nearly a day after we learned he was missing?"

Elrond nodded at the memory. "That is true. One minute he was ‘there’ and then... nothing, until he woke again, yet I knew he was not dead for I did not sense his fëa leaving."

"There, you see? I think Estel lost consciousness and that’s why you couldn’t sense him."

"But it has been hours since he disappeared off the path, surely he has regained consciousness by now? Why can I not sense him?"

Glorfindel sat in thought for a moment. "How far can you sense him, Elrond? How far can you sense your children?"

"Distance is a factor, it is true," Elrond conceded. "For instance, I ceased to sense the twins once we passed over the mountains, but I sensed Arwen while we were in Rhosgobel, though once we entered Mirkwood, her presence faded from my thoughts. With Estel, I don’t think the range is quite that far. I have never been able to sense him once he passes west of the Bruinen, for instance, though as soon as he crosses the border into Imladris I know he is there."

"Well, the distance is less here than that between Imladris and the ford at Bruinen, but I think perhaps the enchantments of these woods might make it difficult for you. I would not worry until there’s a reason to do so."

Elrond cracked a thin smile. "Spoken like a true warrior, which is why I prefer to have Erestor act as my administrator."

Glorfindel smiled back. "Erestor was born worrying, which is why he makes a far better administrator than I ever could."

The two elves sat in companionable silence after that, sipping some tea that Bronweg had brewed for them. The other elves around them gave them space without necessarily excluding them from their company. These Wood Elves were unused to the Noldor and felt a mixture of awe and contempt for them. The memories of the elves are long and many slights, real or imaginary, have been allowed to fester over the last three Ages and smolder into resentment. Neither Elrond nor Glorfindel bothered to acknowledge any resentments they might feel emanating from any of the elves sitting around them. Elrond would claim it was a waste of time, while Glorfindel simply thought such things were beneath one who had fought and slain a balrog. Dying, he once told Elrond and Gil-galad only half jokingly, gave one a marvelous perspective on what was truly important in life.

When they had been quiet for a time, half listening to the soft singing of some of the Wood Elves, Glorfindel leaned towards Elrond and commented softly, "I only hope Radagast never finds out we...er... misplaced Estel. We would never hear the end of it."

Elrond choked on his half-swallowed tea, forcing Glorfindel to pound him on the back. When he finally got himself under control, Elrond whispered a particularly foul oath in Rohirric that caused Glorfindel to laugh outright, much to the surprise of the other elves.

"I am glad, though, that Legolas is accompanied by Galadhor and Laslaerion," Elrond commented once Glorfindel calmed down. "They are valiant ellyn and fiercely loyal to Legolas."

"Sorry, who?"

Elrond glanced at Glorfindel with a wry look. "Surely, mellon nîn, you cannot forget the two guards who came to Imladris with Legolas when he last visited us?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "Elrond, that was, what, six hundred years ago? Much has happened since then. I cannot be expected to recall every youngster who traipses through Imladris now can I?"

One of the elves sitting next to them laughed. "Galadhor and Laslaerion are no elflings, my lord. Both followed our Lord Oropher from Doriath."

Glorfindel raised a delicate eyebrow at the younger elf. "Indeed? They’re that old?"

"Oh yes, my lord. I believe Galadhor was born only a decade or so before the rising of Ithil and Laslaerion soon after."

"Ah, Ithil," Glorfindel said in a musing tone. "I believe we had just completed crossing the Helcaraxë when Ithil rose. A rather beautiful sight, although my Lord Turgon was more interested in checking on the whereabouts of his daughter, Idril. That child had the uncanny ability to disappear right in front of us. Turgon had half his troops out looking for her." He chuckled at the memory, ignoring the looks of awe on the other elves’ faces. "I finally found her sitting in Galadriel’s lap, playing with her doll," he confided to Elrond and both elves chuckled at that.

"Y-you remember the Two Trees, my lord?" stuttered the young Wood Elf, nearly whispering in awe.

Glorfindel looked up from his musings and smiled sadly. "Aye, I remember the Two Trees, lad, and much else besides."

"Shh!" Bronweg admonished suddenly, raising a hand in command. "The trees are speaking."

It was only then that Glorfindel noticed that the branches of the trees surrounding this small glade were moving, even though there was no wind that night. The rustling of their leaves indeed sounded like a group of people whispering.

"What do they say?" Elrond asked in a voice that was too calm for Glorfindel’s taste.

For a moment none of the Wood Elves spoke, their attention drawn to the trees. Then, Bronweg smiled and turned to the Noldor. "Prince Legolas has found Lord Aragorn. The mortal is alive and they are heading for the Stronghold and will meet us there."

Glorfindel released a breath he was not aware he had been holding and sent a prayer of thanksgiving to the Valar. Elrond closed his eyes briefly, no doubt adding his own prayer to Glorfindel’s.

"Why don’t they just come to us?" Glorfindel asked.

Bronweg shook his head. "Prince Legolas prefers to travel through the trees. It will be swifter than our own path. Do not fear, my lord. Our prince will not allow the mortal to come to any harm. All will be well."

And with that the two elves from Imladris had to be content.

****

They were four days traveling before they reached Thranduil’s Stronghold. The rest of the trip was uneventful, and a day out from the stronghold they met up with another patrol.

The captain of the patrol, a dark-haired ellon with hazel eyes, addressed them with a short bow. "Mae govannen, Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel. It has been many years since last we met."

"Mae govannen, Arandor," Elrond said graciously. "What news do you bring us?"

"Thranduil sent us to ensure your safe arrival and to tell you that Prince Legolas arrived yestereve with your companion."

"Is my... is Lord Aragorn well?" Elrond asked quietly, attempting to appear nonchalant.

"Aye, my lord," the captain smiled. "Well enough for one who has had to have his head stitched."

"Head?" Elrond’s voice went soft. Arandor must have felt the tension in the elf-lord’s voice, for he hastened to assure the Lord of Imladris.

"Fear not, my lord. The wound was shallow and there are no lasting effects. Lord Aragorn rests comfortably enough and is anxious for your arrival."

Elrond breathed a sigh of relief. "Then we best not tarry, should we?"

****

The arrival before the gates of the Stronghold of the prince with Estel in tow caused quite a stir. The guards before the gates were not happy admitting a disreputable-looking mortal into the realm, but Legolas assured them that Lord Aragorn was an honored guest of the king and would brook no delay in getting him to the healers so that his wounds could be seen to.

Estel recalled little of the way that they took. While he had not suffered unduly from his head wound, the last few days were finally catching up with him and he found himself reeling slightly as they walked down a seemingly endless corridor. Galadhor caught him in time and steadied him.

"Just a bit further, my lord," the elf said quietly. "We’re almost there."

Estel nodded his understanding and concentrated on not embarrassing himself or his escort. They had gone only a few dozen more steps when Legolas turned into a room that Estel immediately recognized as an infirmary, similar in set-up to his adar’s in Imladris. It even smelled the same, he noticed with a twinge of nostalgia. Legolas was speaking to one of the healers who motioned the mortal to sit while his wounds were examined.

Now he stoically endured the healer’s ministrations, wishing somewhat guiltily that Elrond were there instead. Somehow whenever his adar had to treat him, his wounds did not seem to hurt as much.

While the healer was stitching him up an elf walked into the room. Everyone except the healer stiffened at the elf’s entrance. Estel found himself trying to rise, so powerful was this Firstborn’s personality. The healer uttered an oath and forced him back down. The elf looked on with ill-concealed amusement, while Legolas simply grimaced at his new friend’s discomfort. The elf’s golden hair and blue eyes were a match for Legolas and Estel decided this must be Thranduil, Legolas’ sire. There was an aura of authority about him that reminded Estel greatly of Elrond, but whereas Elrond’s power was subtle and refined, Thranduil’s was wilder and more apparent. He wasn’t sure if Thranduil wasn’t therefore the more dangerous for his unsubtleness.

Thranduil stared impassively at the mortal for a long moment, as if attempting to ascertain his worth, then turned to his son and spoke in the Silvan tongue. Legolas, however, would have none of it.

"Now Adar," he said in Sindarin. "Aragorn is a guest. If naneth were here she would be most displeased at your rudeness."

Estel found himself holding his breath, and he was not at all surprised to find the healer doing the same. But whatever explosion he expected from Thranduil never came. Instead the king grinned in a feral manner and then laughed. "You are a naughty elfling, iôn nîn," he said in Sindarin. "Dragging your poor naneth into this when she cannot be here to defend herself against such slander."

Legolas smiled briefly. "Adar, may I present Lord Aragorn son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dúnedain and Isildur’s Heir."

The smile fled the Woodland king’s face to be replaced by some other emotion Estel could not fathom. "Yes. Isildur. Elrond should have taken that insolent pup and thrown him into the fires of the Sammath Naur along with that accursed Ring when he had the chance."

"Adar!" Legolas admonished his father and when Thranduil actually blushed, Estel began to understand that there was at least one person in this realm who did not fear Thranduil or his famed wrath.

The elven king collected himself and gave Estel a small bow. "My apologies, young lord. I fear I have allowed history to get in the way of my manners."

Estel held up a hand in supplication. "Please, my lord king, there is no need to apologize. I have often wondered why Ad... I mean, Lord Elrond did not do just that."

Thranduil gave Estel a shrewd glance. "So, the rumors are true. Elrond brought you up as his son, did he?"

"Yes, my lord."

"He was always fond of the race of Men. Too fond, if you ask me, but I suppose it must be blamed on his mortal bloodline."

Estel saw Legolas roll his eyes at that and fought to hide a smile in spite of his anger at Thranduil’s slander of his beloved adar, never mind the implied insult to the Secondborn. One thing he was beginning to suspect: with Thranduil you always knew where you stood. That was almost refreshing, Estel decided, even as he was contemplating ways of wiping the smug look off the king’s face that wouldn’t get him instantly killed.

"There, all done," the healer said, an elleth named Nessiel, with russet hair and deep green eyes, who smiled down at Estel with the same look of satisfaction that he had seen on his adar and the other healers of Imladris whenever they had completed a medical procedure, however simple. "You should try to keep it clean, young man, though, if you’re like every other youngling I’ve ever known, I doubt that will be possible."

Estel glanced at the healer in surprise. "I assure you, my lady, I am as cognizant of the need to keep a wound clean as any. Lord Elrond has had me by his side in his healing rooms since I was five. Had some other than myself been so wounded I would have been able to stitch it up as easily as you did."

"I see," Nessiel said, somewhat nonplused. "In that case, I will expect you to follow my instructions to the letter. You are not seeing double, are you? No lights in front of your eyes, no headache?"

"No, healer. I am well, except for being sore and in need of a hot bath."

"Well, we can remedy that." She went to a cupboard and removed a small jar. "Rub this into any area that feels sore. It should help ease the pain."

Estel opened the lid to find the jar contained a lotion and sniffed. "Tathar, mîdhaear... and I think some salab-en-nestad."

"Very good," Nessiel said. "Lord Elrond has indeed taught you well. Use this after your bath and I think you will not be as sore by morning."

Thranduil spoke then, his voice dripping with unconcealed sarcasm. "If you are through cossetting the mortal, Nessiel, perhaps we can get on with it."

Nessiel turned to the king with a look of disdain. "I did not patch him up just so you could tear him apart again, my lord. The boy’s not the enemy."

"I assure you, healer, I have no intention of, as you say, tearing him apart. And as for being the enemy..." the king scowled. "I should have killed Isildur myself, but Elrond was too soft-hearted for his own good and —"

"Enough, Adar," Legolas scolded Thranduil, his voice soft. "Aragorn is not to be blamed for the mistakes of his ancestors, no more than I am to be blamed for daeradar’s."

Silence hung in the room like a vulture ready to pounce. Estel noticed that the two guards were quietly backing away from the two royals, and even Nessiel had stepped to the other side of the examining table, her expression wary. Estel only wished he could do the same, but he was forced to sit there between Legolas and his adar. He hoped he would be able to duck fast enough when the blow came.

It was not long in coming.

Thranduil’s face darkened and the light of his eyes brightened to incandescent fury.

"Elrond may have a use for his pet Dúnadan, but I do not. Had I known how much trouble this mortal would cause —"

"It was not Aragorn who attacked the spiders, Adar, and his being pushed off the path and lost in the woods was not his fault. I will not have you punishing him for something that happened an age ago. He’s my guest, even if he is no longer yours, and I will expect you to treat him accordingly."

For an interminable length of time father and son stared at each other. Legolas was calm, his gaze cool and his stance unbending, while Thranduil seemed ready to burst. Looking at him, Estel wondered if elves could suffer an apoplexy the way humans could. Finally, Thranduil seemed to deflate and his features relaxed somewhat, though he was not ready to admit defeat.

"See to it your guest behaves himself. I will ensure that you are informed when Elrond arrives." He turned to the healer. "Is the mortal well enough to leave here?"

Estel had the distinct feeling that the king of the Woodland Realm would be just as happy if he weren’t, but Nessiel merely nodded. "As long as he remains quiet for another day or two, I see no reason why he cannot be elsewhere. I do want to see you once a day, Lord Aragorn, to ensure that your head wound is healing nicely."

Estel bowed to the healer, a slight smile on his lips. "I am sure Legolas will make sure I do not forget, Lady Nessiel."

Nessiel smiled back, her eyes on the prince. "I’m sure he will."

"Come Aragorn," Legolas said, taking the mortal’s arm. "I will show you to your rooms where you can bathe and rest. I’ll have something brought to you from the kitchens. You won’t have to endure a feast until your adar and Glorfindel arrive. Adar," he turned to Thranduil with a small nod of his head. Estel was barely able to execute his own abbreviated bow before Legolas was pulling him out of the room with Galadhor and Laslaerion right behind.

They traversed the corridors in silence. Estel could tell from the way Legolas moved that he was furious, though his expression remained as impassive and as inscrutable as any elf he had ever known. It wasn’t long however before Legolas led them into a suite of rooms. They stood in a small parlor beyond which lay the bedroom. A bathing room and the privy could be found as well, according to Legolas as he described the appointments of the suite.

"I hope you will be comfortable here, Aragorn," Legolas said somewhat stiffly, as if he expected Estel to voice his disapproval over the accommodations.

Estel smiled. "It’s larger than my room in Imladris, Legolas, and I’ve gotten used to sleeping in the wilds, as well, so this is a luxury to which I am unaccustomed."

"Well, if you want to move outdoors —" Legolas began, a small smile on his face.

Estel raised a hand in protest. "I said I had gotten used to sleeping in the wilds, I said nothing about enjoying the experience."

The three elves laughed in sympathy, knowing what he meant.

Estel sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes, suddenly feeling more fatigued than he had any right to feel. "I’m sorry to cause any trouble between you and your adar —"

"No, Aragorn," Legolas admonished. "You are not to blame for what has happened. My adar is angrier at me than at you, but you are an easier target, and he has never been fond of mortals, for all that he deals with Bard of Dale and the Men of Lake-town on a regular basis. Once Elrond and Glorfindel arrive, he will turn his ire on them. The difference is that Lord Elrond is not easily impressed by anyone’s histrionics and Lord Glorfindel eats people like my adar for breakfast."

Estel smiled. "I guess being a reborn balrog-slayer does have its good points."

Legolas laughed at that, the tension easing from his stance. "Come, you should bathe and then I think you would do well to rest for a time. I will join you for dinner later if you like."

"I would be honored… as long as Galadhor and Laslaerion may join us, that is unless they would prefer to eat with their own families."

The two guards smiled and Galadhor answered for them both. "The honor will be ours, my lord. Our families see us often enough not to be impressed by our absence. Do not concern yourself in that regard."

"Then we will leave you to your bath," Legolas said with a bow. "The wardrobe has several changes of clothing. There should be something there that will fit you reasonably well until your adar arrives with your bags. Rest well, mellon nîn."

Shortly thereafter Estel found himself alone for the first time in weeks. Leaving the door between the bedroom and the parlor open he went looking for the bath, which was most welcome and he stayed in it as long as he could. Afterwards he rubbed the herbal mixture Nessiel had given him into his limbs, the pungent smell brightening the air and leaving him feeling pleasantly relaxed. He wrapped a robe that he had found in the wardrobe around his lean body. There were also tunics, shirts and breeches as well as small clothes he noticed, most of which appeared to be the right size for him. Going to the bed, which was twice as wide as his own bed in Imladris, he lay down with a contented sigh, intending only to rest for a few minutes before dressing but a quiet knock on the parlor door woke him and his internal clock told him he had slept several hours.

He rose with a yawn and, going into the parlor, opened the door to find Legolas standing there with a tray in his hand, looking much as he had before, though the elf had changed into more appropriate clothing: a tunic of soft green with an overrobe of figured silk in shades of blue and silver.

"I woke you," he said with a slight frown. "Forgive me."

"That’s all right," Estel said with a grin as he opened the door wider to let the elf in. "I had to get up to answer the door anyway."

Legolas smiled as he put the tray down on a small table in the parlor. "In that case, I will not bother feeling guilty. I brought you some dinner. Galadhor and Laslaerion will join us later as they both have duties to attend to and could not get away."

"Will you join me then?" Estel asked.

Legolas shook his head. "I will visit with you while you eat but Adar insisted that I join him for dinner later and he would not take no for an answer."

"Let me get dressed then," Estel said and went into the bedroom and closed the door. A few minutes later he emerged dressed in a tunic of dark green and gold over a butter-yellow shirt. His breeches were the same color as the shirt. The tunic was slightly longer than he was used to but it fitted him well enough. Legolas smiled in approval.

"Now you look the proper elf," he said.

"But I am not an elf, Legolas, I am a Man and I do not apologize to anyone for that." Estel sat in front of the tray to examine the dishes on it and began to eat.

"Not even to my adar," the elf nodded, sitting in a nearby chair, snagging a piece of bread for himself. "It must not have been easy for you, the only mortal child growing up in Imladris."

"No, but as you can see, I survived." Estel grinned before taking a bit of venison.

For a few minutes neither spoke as Estel continued eating, only just now aware of how hungry he was. It was only as he began to slow down that Legolas took up the conversation again as he poured some cider for himself and his guest. Legolas informed him as he was pouring the drink that Nessiel had forbidden Estel to drink anything stronger for a day or two because of his head wound.

"Your adar and Glorfindel should arrive tomorrow. Adar sent out another patrol to intercept them. He wasn’t too pleased to do it, but I suspect that he wants to make sure they arrive in one piece."

"Surely this close to the Stronghold they should not encounter any problems?" Estel asked before taking a sip of the cider.

"The minions of the Enemy are getting bolder, it is true, but none have been found so close to the Stronghold before. Yet, there is always the first time, as they say. Adar just doesn’t want to take any chances of upsetting the Lady of the Golden Wood if anything untoward were to happen to her favorite son-in-law."

Estel choked on his drink trying not to laugh. "Adar is Lady Galadriel’s only son-in-law, and I did not think your adar was afraid of anyone."

Legolas grinned. "Adar would like everyone to think so, and he may not care for his cousin’s wife, but he has a healthy respect for her. She is, after all, the most powerful of the Eldar east of Aman. Even Adar has to admit that, little though he likes it. He primarily disapproves of Lord Celeborn’s choice of mate."

"I have never met the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood, though perhaps someday I will. My brothers had spoken of them often enough as I was growing up, enough so that I almost felt as if I knew them myself." He paused to take another sip and chuckled. "I remember when I was very young asking Elrohir if his daeradar and daernaneth were mine as well, since we were brothers. I didn’t understand at the time why he found the question so amusing, though now I do."

"What did he say?" Legolas asked, his eyes brightening with amusement.

"He told me that if I ever were to meet them, I should ask their permission to adopt them first."

Legolas laughed at that and Estel joined him. "Not that I would ever be so stupid, mind you."

"Oh, I don’t know, Aragorn. It would be worth it just to see the Lady’s expression if you did."

"Right before Lord Celeborn had me skinned alive for my temerity, no doubt."

"No doubt, but it would be entertaining nonetheless."

"You elves have strange ideas of what constitutes entertainment."

Before Legolas could answer there was a knock on the door and when Estel rose to answer it he found Galadhor and Laslaerion standing there, wide grins on their faces. Galadhor held up a bottle of wine and Laslaerion had two glasses in his hands.

"We brought some Dorwinion to properly celebrate your arrival, my lord."

"We had best save it for later, my friends," Legolas said as they came inside. "Lady Nessiel would not appreciate having her patient drunk with a head wound. I brought something milder for us to drink. I must soon go to have dinner with my adar but we may still enjoy one another’s company for a time."

So saying, he poured more cider out for them all and soon they were having a pleasant visit until Legolas had to leave. Galadhor and Laslaerion remained behind for another hour before Estel pleaded fatigue. Climbing into bed a few minutes after wishing the two elves a good-night, he wondered what the next day would bring when his adar and Glorfindel arrived and more importantly, he wondered if Elrond would finally reveal to him the purpose of this visit to the Woodland Realm.

****

Ellon/Ellyn: Male elf/elves.

Otornya: (Quenya) "my brother", contracted from otornonya, cf. yonya "my son" as a contraction of yondonya. Used for one who is not a blood brother but a sworn companion. The Sindarin form is gwador nîn. Glorfindel using the Quenya form in addressing Elrond rather than continuing in Sindarin (which is what they were speaking) would be a way of getting through to Elrond, much the same way that Radagast did by using the Quenya equivalent of Glorfindel’s name in a previous chapter.

Note: Legolas addressing Elrond as Ada would be similar to the human custom of addressing an elder as "Grandfather" or "Grandmother" as a sign of respect.