(A/N: Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed! You are very encouraging. And thanks to that paragon of grammatical excellence and punctuational perfection, Her Most High Ladyship, Nieriel Raina of Tolkien-Nitpickery!)

4. Letters From Rhovanion

Thranduil Oropherion, King of Eryn Lasgalen, Prince of Doriath of Old,

To His Beloved Son, Legolas the Green Knight, Protector of Dale and of Ithilien, Renowned of the Ring War, Lord of Dol Galenehtar,

Greetings.

Gladly do I hail you, O my beloved son, and gladly also do I reflect upon the certainty that this missive shall reach you in due time, and you bestow upon it your consideration and attention and concern, for myriad are the cares in the courts of the Elvenking of Eryn Lasgalen, and in the sharing of burdens are the burdens’ weights then lessened. For though I possess indeed a council of wise men and statesmen and warriors, and rely also upon the goodwill of Girion King of Dale and Thorin Stonehelm of Erebor, do my thoughts go continually to my son, whose judgment and fine nature have placed him high in mine estimation, and thus do I divest my thoughts unto you, my Legolas, in confidence you shall aid me in this conundrum. Indeed your Lady Mother did insist upon this, seeing how I was beset and perplexed, wishing also for your presence, for in mine anger do I speak too soon and she seeks your clement nature to temper mine own; yet rather should I have, in addition to your person, my son, your sword-arm, and two hundred knights to succor me; though it is as yet uncertain to whom I should direct a charge! Yet I know full well that you would be pleased simply to comply, for the delight of the challenge. But you know, you need not tell your Lady Mother this; she presses peace upon me you know, and it would serve but to raise her ire, and you and I are in congress to prevent such happenstance, I trust.

As you will recall in my last epistle, O my son, Malbeach Master of Esgaroth had made himself obnoxious to King Thorin III and to me, by his continuing to treat covenants with none but Girion of Dale, seeking, so we believed, to cut Erebor and Eryn Lasgalen from the traffic in commerce from Long Lake to the River. Girion did display to Thorin III and to myself these documents, and my spies, ever present in Girion’s court, relayed to me also that Malbeach and his advisors do press upon Dale the importance of trade betwixt Man and Man, renouncing industry with the First Born and the Sons of Durin. And furthermore, O Legolas, I did say to you, that Thorin III and I are so far of like opinion in this matter, that we agreed to convene, recognizing such a thing was inimitable in its novelty; for though Dwarf and Elf conspire with Man together, as separate beings our dealings have thus far been constrained by our suspicions of each other, and our natural proclivities toward hostility, that our temperaments demand. But the situation rapidly disintegrates, for Girion wavers, and is unwilling to detach himself fully from Esgaroth; for as you know Dale pays Esgaroth heavily for the use of the docks and locks at the southern end of the Lake, and should Malbeach close them down, Dale shall be beggared.

Now neither Thorin nor I wish for this to occur; Thorin does not recall, but I do well, how prosperous Dale was of old; and it is with joy I watch its rebirth. And also does Thorin know full well that the wealth of the Dwarves will hold Erebor satisfactorily, yet should Dale fail to provide adequately then my people and Thorin’s shall be obliged to look elsewhere for grain and meat. Now, O my son, do you well know we are capable ourselves of such labor, but I should rather use my people for trade, and diplomacy, and merchantry, than for agriculture and husbandry, though I admit you have built Dol Galenehtar admirably upon these pillars of commerce. But for centuries have my folk lived thus, and it would bode ill methinks to turn farmers out of attachés (though I contend it would do Galion some good). Thorin is in accord with me; yes, O Legolas, smile if you dare! We have been spoilt by the crops and orchards and ricks of the Long Lake, and though we erect our fortunes upon this trade, we do not wish to change tactics at this date, nor do we want our friend Girion to fall on hard times.

Thorin’s council would not however agree to have their king come to Eryn Lasgalen, fearing, perhaps, some new treachery of the Elves (Dwalin I believe was instrumental in this belief); I then offered to come with my commission to Erebor, but was hindered by some of them – Valanya and Morsul in particular – who objected; as you know, they were with me at the destruction of Doriath and hate Dwarves; naught I might say to them will rid them of this prejudice. So Stonehelm and I decided to be reasonable and meet in the keeping-field of Mellomanin, which the Dwarves call Harak-Barûn, and bring only with us those counselors friendly, or at least tolerant, toward the other. This, O beloved son, was a difficult task; for with Thorin came only Glóin and Fundin and Fonbur and Óli son of Tháli. And I brought with myself Baranil, our good friend, for he is a stout fellow with a clear eye; and Belias and Silmë and Methlon, for they like Dwarves, yet find them not amusing, which as you know is disastrous in these circumstances; for though we Firstborn thrive upon that preconception it is abhorrent to the sons of Durin.

So we met at Mellomanin, and O my dear son, how you should have laughed at us; for all our apprehension and preparation, in keeping with that ancient enmity, we had expected deep suspicion of each other; however good Silmë had insisted upon bringing a cart bearing two barrels of wine, and Óli doubtless of a mind with Silmë had himself brought several kegs of good stout ale. The conference was protracted and noisy, and we came to no firm conclusion, save that Fundin cannot sing, and wine makes one feel worse the next day than does ale. But good came of this, for Thorin and I feel much more at ease round each other, and Fonbur has developed a disturbing love of wine, despite his delicacy the following morning, and word has gone round Erebor that Stonehelm and I set each other drunk, so that I am not looked upon with such deep misgivings, nor thought pretentious anymore. Dwarves are such strange creatures, are they not, my son? But I admit to you, they can hold their drink, far better than the sons of Men, and moreover do not succumb to melancholy when under its influence, which is gratifying.

The only damage that proceeded from this meeting was that Malbeach does press the heavier upon Girion, fearing the might of Elf and Dwarf collectively, and now does send to Thorin letters of inquiry, to have the Dwarven smiths to make certain precious items for him, no doubt seeking to draw them away from amity with Eryn Lasgalen. I have it from the inestimable Glóin that Thorin contemplates doing business with Malbeach, to line his own pocket to be sure, but also, Glóin assures me, to see how treacherous the Master of Esgaroth might prove. Woe betide the man, should he seek to swindle Thorin son of Dain! Indeed I believe I would have need to do naught but sit back and watch the war wage betwixt Man and Dwarf, though I am certain, my dear son, you would chide me for this and urge me to join the fun.

Aside from that, my Legolas, it is quiet, for the Mereth en’Ehtelé has passed, and seeking to affront no one we invited no one. I had not marked before how uninteresting our revels were, deprived of mortal blood – but do not tell anyone I admitted this to you! In particular divulge this not unto your Lady Mother, who remarked to me when it was over, how nice it was to have such a quiet and subdued holiday, with no feathers ruffled by visitors and dignitaries. Though of the Galadrim I may say, despite their quiet natures and willingness to serve, they drink just as well as do we; and though Orophin is subdued enough his offspring has more mischief tucked in her little bosom than all the other children pooled. I believe your Blue Knight would call her a “harum-scarum;” I have heard him use the phrase before, referencing those children of strong will and insatiable curiosity. From your missives it sounds not like her cousin, your new esquire, is quite so bad, and I envy you this, O my son; little Bragadel has earned the switch from every lady in the court, and even a visiting couple from your own, Legolas, excepting Dúrfinwen, who claims she finds the spawn amusing. The daughter of Orophin’s latest escapade, Legolas, is worthy of the Blue Knight; I will let Dúrfinwen tell you of it, and say only that it involved knitting needles, a plank of wood, and a great quantity of hot pepper. Your Lady Mother and I dared not laugh, not before Bragadel anyway; but when Orophin had hauled her away for a lashing I confess we near collapsed of mirth. Baranil, poor fellow, was not so amused however, even when he regained his sight.

Your Lady Mother did instruct me, O my son, to send to you a request, that you let her keep Dúrfinwen here with her for a time, and not send her back this summer as planned; as you know Dúrfinwen is your Lady Mother’s Little Laiquenda, and as close to a daughter as any lady of the court might attain to, and she has been greatly missed, by myself too I own, for her gifts of merriment and wit and sweet impertinence. She is indeed the last of her kind we have been able to determine, and whence came she is yet a mystery; yet this detracts not from her allure, and well do I remember, O my son, how surprised you were to see the infant dandled upon your Lady Mother’s lap, and how you would twist your fingers round her curls, such unusual things for an Elven child to possess. She is still young you know, and has said to us on many occasions how pleasant it is to be back in Eryn Lasgalen her first known home; she foregathers with her old friends here, and is the light of the dances, for though in beauty outstripped by many of the other ladies she eclipses them through sheer charm, beguiling all who see her (in particular Belias, who is entranced anew, though to your Lady Mother’s disappointment Dúrfinwen marks this little, flirting with all in perfect equity). Indeed Girion’s son Bard III upon seeing her in Dale at his father’s court was enthralled and could scarce take his eyes from her the whole night, poor boy; though as you know to have a mortal fall for an Elf is no surprising thing – regrettable, but expected.

Lastly, O my beloved son, I have another small area of concern, though it is awkward and might cause some undue concern if revealed to any but you – in particular your Lady Mother, who is vocal on this subject, and so I entrust to you, my Legolas, your reticence and due respect for this problematic quandary, that you might give to me if not advice in how to unravel this dilemma, reassurance that I make, as your Blue Knight would say, mountains out of mole-hills. Malbeach’s wife – I hesitate to call her “lady” – has on numerous occasions, and with escalating intensity, offered certain services to my person that, strictly speaking, are not hers to give, nor mine to take. I have mentioned this to no one, and I beg of you to do the same, for it is tricky, and though she is fair enough to look upon, her brazenness, not to mention the cut of her bodice, upon which your Lady Mother has commented with some acerbity, is repellent; however short of giving offense I can do nothing to counteract this, and though I have been the object of mortal desire before (have you not as well, my son?) this is the first time such shamelessness has been thrown before me, and I find myself reduced to starts and stammers, much like an untried youngster. I know not what it is – the fire in her eyes perhaps, or the low deceit of her voice – Malbeach is troublesome, but his wife repulsive; yet I am like a bird held in thrall by a snake – I know she is deadly, but betimes I cannot move nor speak. Have you, O my son, come across a woman of this type before? Is this some mortal thing that they possess, a magic against which we the First Born have little defense? I hesitate to speak of it to any of mine advisors, for they would think me weak; and I tremble to think what might occur, should your Lady Mother catch wind of it! Though it might be a relief to me, as she would I expect dispatch the trollop with a single blow, and so remove her troublesome presence; though it is likely that I, innocent though I might be, should receive her wrath as well, which would be inconvenient and, as you might well suspect, painful.

That is all, my dear son; only to say, how I miss you! Though you might have left me for decades at a time before, on errantry intent, I did not miss you so much then, for I well knew you should return to our bower; but now, though it has been but three years ere we have foregathered, my father’s heart is bowed, for my son dwells elsewhere, though I am proud of him, for he is a wise and clement lord over a happy and prosperous people. When will you come to Eryn Lasgalen again? It is pleasant to see your people who have come calling, Dúrfinwen most of all (though I own Belegtilion is a joy too), but it is my son whom I long for, and for whom my heart yearns. How I wish we could sit together, we two, upon the ledge over the west entrance – looking out over Eryn Lasgalen, the sea of leaves waving and undulating beneath our feet, a jug of wine between us, cups in hand. Do you remember, my Legolas, the smell of the oak leaves warmed by the sun, the lichens steaming, the black emperors fluttering and floating round our heads? And the sough of the wind in the branches; the low call of birds, the chuckle and crack of the rivers! O that you were here, my Legolas, to share this with me; summer is peering round the corner at me and I miss my sparring partner. Do come, my son; bring Tiriméar with you, and I shall unsheathe Kírgothnar, and we shall battle together ‘til one bleeds, or our hands freeze to the hilts, or your Lady Mother bids us cease (which, as you well know, my son, is likely to happen first). The white deer call to your bow, and there are barrels of wine to breach!

Were your Lady Mother to ascertain I wrote to you, she would send her love and devotion; as she does not, we shall take it as writ, and you may accept all of it you like; it is unbounded and free after all, to my endless delight.

With deepest affection,

Father

O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*O

Legolas Thranduilion, The Green Knight, Lord of Dol Galenehtar and Devoted Slave to his Seneschal, Valet, and Esquire combined,

To His Royal Father, His Majesty Thranduil Oropherion, Jewel of Eryn Lasgalen, and Pole-Star of Sindar Hearts,

Greetings, my dear Lord Father! Gladly did I receive your missive, and laughed well upon reading of little Bragadel’s depredations! Rúmil did relate unto me many other stories, though we did laugh and Maelaëri did not; Tamin also disapproves of his young cousin, and soberly shakes his golden head over her mischief. Though I own Tamin shall cause enough trouble on his own; the girls from Minas Tirith and Osgiliath sigh and swoon over him, though bless him, he has no knowledge of such things, and simply questions their digestive difficulties. He is currently embroiled in the trifling problem of Fastred Faramirion’s troubles with the little imp Léodwyn; Halgond son of Hallas his friend appears to be walking away with the prize, and Fastred is too stubborn to try to appease her. Tamin is a gentle boy and not given to anger but he is fast finding it intolerable, for Fastred is his dearest friend and he aches to see the son of Faramir hurt so. Dúrfinwen made me promise to not interfere, and so I shall not; I am uncertain however what she should say were I to encourage Tamin to do so. I believe that would fall beneath the legal boundaries of my contract, would it not? Tamin fears Léodwyn shall be lured away, and shall wed to Halgond; however I think not she is so stupid; I believe she is only trying to make Fastred jealous, the minx. Ah, the follies of love – if one might call it “love;” I do not, and avoid it with all vigor and concentration.

Your difficulties with Esgaroth appear to be increasing, which is not comforting, O my father, though I am delighted to hear that you and Thorin Stonehelm look to be developing a détente of sorts (aided and abetted by wine and ale; for shame, Lord Father!) and that Glóin takes your part over the opinions of your Dwarvish detractors. He is encouraged I know by his son, my dear friend Gimli, and also by Frera, that delightful little mother – have you danced with her yet, Lord Father? You should; she is surprisingly light on her feet, and I do not think Mother will object – and to have Glóin, whom you imprisoned, on your side will do much to sway the estimations of his fellow Dwarves in your favor. Malbeach sounds a “right crook,” as my dear Bandobras would say, and his wife a libertine – I shall dwell on that subject more fully later – and should Girion prove weak, you and the Dwarves of Erebor must needs find congress with each other, to strengthen and sustain each other in these times.

All the same, dear Lord Father, it would behoove you methinks to put some consideration into clearing the old fields and pastures; certes it is you may not depend upon the sons of Men for your fodder, and you have many mouths to feed. Gold and gems are all very well when one’s neighbors have food in abundance; however I have found, even in my short time as Lord of Dol Galenehtar, that oil and wheat and marrows though fleeting are precious tender indeed. But upon reflection it has been three centuries ere the ricks and paddocks were used; I am certain they are gone by now, are they, Father? And the fields ought to be so overgrown as to be unusable. Well, my people reclaimed the slopes of Ephel Dúath; perchance some other pastureland might present itself to you. Does Dale still own the fields to the east of the edge of the forest? And what does the land look like round the estuary? Now that you have forced your territory southward you might think of opening those old pastures round Celduin where the mountains’ feet step out of the forest; I know it is far to the south but the land round there is fertile and, last I knew, uninhabited. A good hundred hectares could be reclaimed, and if worked in congress with the little villages round there, suitable labor for the poor and disadvantaged would serve to elevate your station in their sight. Certainly Esgaroth has done little for them over the last few decades. When last Gimli, Bandobras, and I traversed that area, it was very depressed; the villages squalid, the inns uninhabitable, the land unmanaged, the people poor and untutored. Well, it is just a thought; I know you dislike farm work; for myself I love to see the green and growing things, and the fruit on the vine – particularly the grapes; grapes are great favorites with me, as well you know!

And now, o my father, I shall breach that most delicate of subjects, which seems to have thrown my imperturbable, my resilient, my staunch Lord Father into what Bandobras calls “a tizzy,” to wit, this not-lady of Esgaroth, the little whore who seems to be dazzling you by shaking her breasts in your face like a scully cleaning a dust-mop. Great heavens above, Father, it is rare a mortal woman can claim beauty beside my Lady Mother; what charms has this harlot that has so turned your head? Need I remind my lord what occurred some hundred years hence, when the Lady of Carnen bid you dance with her not twice but thrice in one evening, during that ball in Dale? How polite you were to not refuse her; yet my Lady Mother’s indignation was writ large in her countenance, and the Lady of Carnen retreated with smoke emerging from her ears! Yet that was not all; did you not purchase for your Lady Wife those two diamond and mithril stars from the smiths of Erebor, to appease her? Have mercy upon your exchequer; avoid the little trollop at all costs, and throw some other unsuspecting Elf at her in the meantime – Galion, perchance; that ought to put her off the Eldar for a while. It is unlike you to be so diffident, Lord Father; put it aside, and use your temper rather; that is a more comfortable instrument.

So my Lady Mother wishes to keep Dúrfinwen? Well she cannot have her; my tucking-mill will not run itself, and Galás will pine, which is intolerable. Besides which, Dol Galenehtar is not quite as bright a place without her. It is rare to find someone whose absence speaks so loudly, and we miss her here; tell my dear Dúrfinwen, if she objects, that if she refuses to return to Ithilien, I will start match-making again. That ought to change her mind. And do you please inform Belias that Dúrfinwen eschews poetry and flowers and moonlight! If he wishes to charm her he need do little save be honest and straightforward; a less romantic maid I have yet to find, and she puts great store in wit. I have not much hope for him, knowing him of old – a fine fellow, and a brave warrior, but a little flat for her I fear. Then again, she would have insufficient need to throw shoes at him, and she might like that for a change.

The summer is here already; it is getting nicely hot, and the trout are running. O but you should see my vineyards, Lord Father, and the olive groves, and the herb gardens! So fragrant and fine is it here, with hot and cold winds gusting, and the Anduin gleaming like brown topaz beneath us, the golden fields of the Pelennor, the dark green of the pines, serve to remind me that I have made a good choice to live here; we bless the land we serve, and it serves and gives unto us its riches in return. I miss you too, O Lord Father; would that we could spar as of old, the clang and ring of our swords together! Though Fastred renamed your sire’s sword; it is no longer Tiriméar but Irmatenagar, and will give Kírgothnar a good fight. Come to Dol Galenehtar, Lord Father! We will climb the hills of Ephel Dúath together, and explore the crevasses, the cataracts, the meandering trails and rocky slides; then we shall go to my tower, to drink and eat and watch the stars come out. Gimli is here, for Aglarond prospers; and Bandobras of course, who will regale you with tales of his little demesne; and Galás and Kaimelas and Meivel would be delighted to foregather with you. And little Tamin will run to and fro, and bring us food, and play upon his flute for us, until he nods and drowses and I send him off to bed, so that we old warriors might talk and sing together ‘til the sun rises over the high slopes to the east.

I know you will not show this letter to my Lady Mother, for it contains within it that subject you wish to hide from her; this amuses me, for it is the first time I think I have caught you in such duplicity. I say to you again, avoid the creature; be rude if you like, even if you are in another’s court; for are you not Thranduil Oropherion, and immune to others’ opinions? I shall send to Mother a separate letter, full of dismay she seeks to wrest my Dúrfinwen from me, and begging her to come to Dol Galenehtar, to see what good fun mortal feasts might be. And now, O my Lord Father, Kaimelas is here, to inform me that Hallas of Lossarnach, and Malbeth of Celos, and Mindardil the Indigo knight, here for a small tourney – one day’s joust only; do not I beg you Lord Father be jealous of me! – all wish to dine; so I shall get me to my valet, dear father, and let him dress me – the white doublet again, I fear – though I believe I shall let Tamin brush my hair; he does not tug so, fearing my discomfort. Be well, beloved father! And be of good cheer! Dwarves make good allies, and mortal women are fickle!

Your most devoted son,

Legolas