(Galadriel is fairly used to getting mail but she'll be a bit shocked to receive any in Thedas. For any notes, missives, letters, or other communications.)
[Galadriel was silent for a time as she considered his points. Her hands stilled their work and, eventually, she turned to regard him where he stood. There was a strange dissonance, seeing Thranduil in Thedas--this was not the first time she had seen him, nor the first, nor even very long after the last, but it was dissonant nonetheless. Once the oddness had passed, she replied, a note of solemnity to her resignation.]
I have read of Shartan, but only briefly. [Unlike Thranduil, she made no effort to curb the vowels or the lilt that Quenya imposed on that name.]
Referenced, in passing, as I studied accounts of the--[For this, she abandoned Quenya altogether and used common. It did not deserve the title it had been granted.]--Exalted Marches.
[She drew a deep breath and, while she didn't brace herself, she prepared herself for his probable dissent.]
I had not considered asking, nor waiting for such things to be granted. One cannot return what has been stolen and call it kindness. [It was a dangerous sentiment, but one that applied here far better than it did in Arda.]
I would take what is required; such things will not be gifted. The elves of these lands hold little regard.
I would take no issue if they decided to slaughter one another, but the massacre of elves- [ he laughs, because he can imagine it far too well. ] I suppose Alqualondë and Doriath and Sirion are the only fair comparisons.
[ he reaches for a note tucked into his sleeve, and lays it at her side on her bench. the words are written in common; he sees no reason to leave written sindarin or quenya where it might be captured and translated. though the language of their people is nuanced, and words might mean ten different things, he is cautious none the less. ]
So, are we to retake the Dales as they were, before the Chantry took them? There is much love for that place. Perhaps, though, we need not extend the borders as far west. [ out of his sleeve comes a map. he sits next to her, spreads the rendering of thedas over the bar of the loom, gestures as he talks. he has put a good deal of thought into this. ] We need the Frostbacks on one side, and there must to be access to the sea. Halamshiral is necessary for the symbolic victory alone, and they ought to have the Arbor Wilds at their backs. The climate of that place seems similar enough to my forest, though there are troubling rumors about what might lurk in the wood.
[ as if he could ever be afraid of something like that. he stops to consider her work on the loom, running his fingers briefly over what work she has finished. ]
We must have consent from Ferelden, or at least a promise of noninterference. We cannot be everywhere, and your talents lie in the healing Arts while I am better suited to command.Legolas can lead, but he is untested in control of units numbering more than fifty. [ the slaughter of elves by orlesians is too much, he will not speak of an alliance with them. ] We will need one border secure, at least for a mortal generation. Orlais is weak after the war, her armies decimated. I suspect the Inquisition will be called to handle that at some point. Halamshiral is less than a hard week's ride from Skyhold.
[His barb is not unexpected, nor is it without weight, but the context is wrong; the threat of violence against the elves is one that has weighed heavily on her mind, but this is not a battle, nor a siege. This is the threat of slaughter.
Still, she refrains from comment and turns her attention to the note, retrieving it and tucking it into her sleeve. As Thranduil joins her on the bench, she turns to regard the map he has draped over her work.
The enchanted wool holds enough of her power, raw and open as she imbues it into the weaving, that it would be obvious to him. It's purpose is harder to guess and, for the moment, she doesn't clarify.]
The mountains are not held by Ferelden, but rather by tribes of wild Men. They stretch into the forests and have no love for the great kingdoms of Men in Thedas. [It is a sidenote, something she stumbled upon only as she read the histories of Leliana's religion.] Should we secure their assistance, we need only hold the Orlesian border. If we claim the land before winter falls, the mountains and the wildmen will be more than enough to cement our position in the Dales.
[But what she was describing was a siege, not an assault. It was a curious distinction considering how she advocated for reclaiming what was taken. In truth, even if Legolas had greater experience, they did not have fifty elves to train, nor to command. They lacked the numbers to take Halamshiral, or to claim a foothold through anything but spycraft.
Galadriel regarded Thranduil's profile and drew a long breath.
If they were to undertake such a task together, it was unwise to operate from a place of ignorance.]
We will need to move silently while they are in disarray. If we can claim land here--[She lifts a hand and gestures to the south, circling a space where the wilds have penned in a corner of the Dales against the Frostbacks. It is not Halamshiral, but it is not far from it.]--it can be held without notice.
I will see to it.
We must first ensure that there is safety for those who would gather under our banners, in our protection. Many of them lack the skills to survive the wilds and I would not see them fall ere they reached us, even if the forests are more easily held.
[ that is what it circles back to, in the end. they need the tribes in the area, skilled in a way their city brethren are not in surviving in the wild, in the sort of warfare mirkwood knew best- attack, retreat, knives in the night and arrows in the enemy before the enemy knew they were there. he studies the area on the map with thin lips- honestly, the textured map in the advisors' room would work better, but he makes do. ]
We need an offering. Proof, alongside the claims in our letters. I cannot make lembas, and Legolas has very little craft, but his hands are less bloody than mine, better suited to baking, despite his sex. Are there any among our kin here who you might take under your wing? Ashariel- Ellana. [ how quickly he converts their names into sindarin, approximating differences. ] Merril. I do not know her clan name. Fiona, the leader of the mages.
[ he taps the nearest town marked next to the area galadriel has indicated. best they address this now. ]
We need to decide how the shem will be handled. Any accused of rape, murder, or grievous injury to an elf should be subject to your gaze. I will handle the guilty. As for the rest- let us be kinder to them than they were to us. A generous stipend for resettlement, and a guide to escort them to their new homes. Wars kill farmers first- Ferelden will be glad for men and women to work the fields, and there are many empty farms left in the wake once we clear areas of Red Templars.
I will see who might be taught, lembas are a simple craft, though I lack the leaves to pack them properly. I know not if mellyrn will grow in these lands, nor if they can be hastened, but an attempt should be made if we are to truly give such rations to our kin.
[Ellana had expressed a fondness for the idea of the trees, for old knowledge, as had Merrill. Either might be taught baking and, of course, Legolas would be offered the knowledge as well, but she held little hope that he could learn the craft. Siuona was given to the growing of plants, but Samwise Gamgee was the best choice, in her mind, if they wished to grow one of the golden trees.
She would ask for the hobbit's assistance once their conversation was done.]
Ignore them, for now. [Galadriel eyed the map. The town had a name that was not unfamiliar to her, but she was not eager to address it, nor why she knew it.]
I have sworn to avoid such things, the reading of mortal hearts, and it is not a promise I would break lightly. The presence of a town will hinder us little and, once we are stronger, they may leave of their own accord.
Then, if you like, we may offer gifts to those who would resettle or punishment to those whose guilt is known.
Without need, I would not interfere in mortal affairs, nor make promise of land that we have not claimed. We shall have enough difficulty aiding our own people without taking on the welfare of the shemlen as well. Ferelden may not be so accommodating of the displaced, not as we strip them of their slaves and servants.
An oath? Or a promise? [ a condition of her continued freedom, as dictated by cassandra, or something that had taken place in middle-earth? it was an annoyance enough to press the matter- they needed all the gifts they had been graced with, annoyance enough that he shifted in his seat to better face her. ]
In this area, it would be to our advantage if there was an abandoned estate of some sort that we might use as a base of operations. [ did she know of one, in other words, or did they need to make trouble until there was one?
he exhaled, looked over what had been and would be the dales, then back to the dot that was skyhold. ]
What I would give for one of my patrol units. Legolas is clever, but he is one elf, and it will take months for him to build a group to support him, fight with him.
A promise, to one whom I owe a life debt. [She hadn't missed his meaning, or the irritation that tinted his expression. She ignored the latter and, instead, regards the map.]
There are scouts and spies among our Dalish kin, those who I trust, and many who may move freely. One, you have seen, numbers among my galadhrim already, though I am loathe to ask more of him after all he has suffered.
[She pauses and removes the map from her loom. She is gentle while folding it and does so in a way that leaves the Dales exposed. She passes it back to Thranduil and, quietly, continues weaving.]
I shall learn what I can about the area. [Through whatever means necessary.] If it is lacking a foothold, we shall carve one out ourselves.
You and I are not so feeble that we cannot assist your son, should the need arise; these Men are ill prepared for elves of our skill. If their numbers are small, for this, we will need no assistance.
[ wry amusement: ] Galadhrim and a life debt already, Artanis?
[ again, something else they must address now, before it festers. his hand rests on the shuttle without touching hers- he is always very careful about that- and he waits until she looks at him before he speaks. they are both unimaginably old. he looks at her and sees what he cannot find a match of in the eyes of anyone else here. legolas is yet too young, and he is glad for that, for that innocence. ]
I do not disagree with what my father did. You have always hungered for a forest, for your kingdom. Say what you will about titles, we both know a king is a glorified steward in the end, and you fill that role for your wood. I am faulted too; we were begat in Arda Marred. I am selfish, possessive, prideful. Whatever distance we had between us there cannot exist now.
[ he lets the magnitude of it set it, gives words to what he suspect she also fears to acknowledge. ]
This time, this place- Ilúvatar sent us here. You know it to be true. [ and it is a humbling, trembling thing to allow that thought to settle. eru's hand is in this. ] This world was affected by the Discord, though I doubt Morgoth has set foot here, if he knows of it. Ilúvatar means for us to mend this, and we will fail if we set ourselves as- Silvans and Galadhrim from the start. We cannot fail the elves here because of our... animosity.
[ a very careful wording. doriath sits between them. oh, he is not a fool to think they will ever manage to exorcise that ghost wholly, but. the dalish. the people. the elves dead and yet begotten. this is larger than them. ]
[Galadriel is silent as she returns his stare. How long had she known this elf? Ages, certainly, and the animosity that they had cultivated, however tempered, was--is--of little value in this place. Already she has insisted to each and every of the Dalish that they were her kin, that little separates them, but even less separates Thranduil and his son from her.
Truly, so far from home, brought here by the very hand of Eru, their differences are naught but petty squabbles. They are best forgotten.
That it was Thranduil offering such an accord was startling, however, and she is silent as she considers him. Unfortunately, the longer she does, the farther her thoughts manage stray.
Oropher bore striking resemblance to his brother and, while Thranduil is not so close, there is enough in his countenance that the familiar creeps through. Only a moment passes before she turns away from his gaze and closes her eyes. Her sigh is short and, were it not silent, would carry a wavering thread of the sorrow she'd shared with Cole.]
You are right.
There is far too much to do. These lands require both our aid, I will not hinder that.
[She draws a breath and reopens her eyes, but her stare is lowered and distant. Were they anywhere else, at any other time, she would not have corrected him.]
I will not see your cousin again, save perhaps in Mandos and I cannot bear to wish for such things.
If you must...[And it was a rare occurrance indeed, that he addressed her by name.] His is the name I prefer.
It is all that remains and I would keep it, if I can.
[ it is with a- voyeuristic intentness that he looks her over, that he considers the halo of light that rises off her skin like steam off a cup of tea. he looks to her eyes, seeks out the aura of her fëa, considers all in equal measure, and then asks: ]
What did it feel like, to be torn from him? Celeborn was alive when you left. Was it akin to a hot knife in your heart, or was it more subtle, an utter undoing?
[ he, of course, is still free to probe at the raw edges calenmiril left in her wake- and they are the same as they were a year ago, a decade, two decades, ten, twenty-- ]
[It is a vulgar question, no amount of quiet contemplation could disguise that, and the swell of anger that rises up in her is quelled, only just, by his ready agreement. It is a snide thing, but it is an agreement, and Thranduil was not the sort who would renege on such things once they were granted.
She doesn't need to read his heart to know the origin of that stray, malicious curiosity. She has known him long enough, if only in passing, to see what is missing from his smile. It is by virtue of that and that alone that she answers him.]
You have never seen the sea, and I fear you are too young to recall the darkness that seized the world ere the days of dawn.
Long before I met your cousin, before I saw the shores of Beleriand, we walked through the darkest night across the great floes of ice. Never have I felt such crushing, endless cold, nor so often lacked starlight as my guide.
When the first dawn rose, the world was changed.
The grinding ice glittered with a brilliance that was utterly new, the sky was warm, and there was such grand possibility, such endless beauty before us that, for a moment, we might forget the evil that drove us forward, the conflict that lingered ahead and behind.
[Her tone was even, not through restraint but simply resignation. She shifted her gaze back to him, the grey expanse of her work before them both and, frankly, all the more fitting as an accent for this conversation..]
[ he chews over his words, considers them, and then speaks. ]
But it was not [ he said ] a tearing, a rending, a devastation. An unmaking. Only a fading.
[ he sounds tired. his hands stay in his lap, resting, not fussing with his rings or lingering on his sleeves. odd, how her people were excited when the sun first rose. he remembers it. if melian had not told them of the death of the trees, they would not have known, living in starlight only. and if melian had not told them to be calm when the burning ball of fire first rose in the sky, they would have panicked and thought it another device of melkor. ]
A muting of the bond, rather than the destruction of it. [ he does not sigh. the exhale is not purposeful, not a sigh. he lets go of the anger that boils in him whenever he thinks of her, of the manner of her death. he looks- not young, not to a mortal, but if galadriel looks, she will see a set to his shoulder more suited to the thranduil of doriath, rather than the thranduil of mirkwood. ]
Celeborn will worry, and Celeborn will fret, and possibly ride to Elrond with his concerns, where, I suspect, Elrond will tell him he felt much the same way when your daughter sailed to Valinor. A stretching of your marriage, not a severing.
[ he means to comfort, when he sets his hand over hers. ]
[The shadows that cling to him, when his age settles across his shoulders and his breath slips, silent and unbidden, from his chest, are palpable. There is no apology she can give him that he would accept, nor one that she would offer honestly, and so she doesn't attempt to conjure anything. Rather, she turns her hand beneath his and silently holds his in return.
It is a rare gesture, but one she had offered his wife freely. It is her memory that clings to him and this simple motion is all she can think to do that might ease the pain of it.]
Thank you.
[But it is a meager reassurance, despite how readily she takes it to heart.
She cannot bring herself to admit the truth of things in Quenya; when she speaks again it is in common. The language is brutish and fleeting but well suited to such news.]
He does not intend to sail. [She is uncertain if Celeborn had said as much to his cousin, she had never asked.] In both our absences he will evacuate to Greenwood.
He would not consider leaving, not until the shadow had been driven from your woods, if at all.
[ he's certainly glad to elaborate on this point. his hand stays in hers. it is enough to center him, though he retreats from further showing of weakness like a cat from water. ]
He should mind his own wood and think less of expanding. He has never fought the spiders, and would be a hinderance to my Silvans in their patrols. Legolas has said that after the War, he stays in Mirkwood and helps her return to Greenwood once more. My son has the task well in hand.
[ he continues to work over the thought as they sit. there is silence, but they are both old enough to know when to speak and when to refrain. ]
Should he arrive in Mirkwood saying you have vanished, I will be suspicious at first [ thranduil when are you not suspicious ] but will provide whatever aid he needs. Legolas is from the Fourth Age; he has not mentioned either of us being absent. [ more firmly. his hand squeezes hers, he looks to her to comfort, to soothe. ] Iluvatar arranged for this, I doubt He will allow for any ... skips that would prevent the destruction of Sauron. Perhaps at the end of our time here, we will return, and it will be as if no time has passed at all. Perhaps we worry for nothing. We are elves, we are patient. We must wait.
[His first comment is so out of place that he startles a voiceless laugh from her. Her shoulders shake once, sharply, but she doesn't withdraw or seem inclined to continue laughing.
As he continues, though, her expression shifts. She is uncommonly open, right now, and her brows furrow with, at first, confusion and then shock. She is no stranger to arts that bend time, but this--even though Samwise Gamgee wore a cloak of her make, carried one of her own personal affects, and claims they had yet to meet, she couldn't have guessed, wouldn't have guessed--Legolas had seen the turning of the Age?
Sauron was--would be defeated? Her woods had not burned? Celeborn was not lost?
The sheer scope of what he is implying, what he suspects, is so vastly different from what she has resigned herself to that, for an instant, there is an expression like awe across her features. She has only been in Thedas a short time but that grief, that fear, had already begun to drag her down. Like a lead weight pulling her beneath waves, it had been relentless and now--now it was lifted, insofar as it could be.
She had been brought to her knees with grief and, now, she shook as the weight of it left her.
For the first time in Ages, she lacks words. She couldn't thank him for what he had told her and he couldn't have known how it had ailed her. Without thought, she reaches forward, wraps an arm around his far shoulder, and draws him into a tight embrace. It is something she has never done, nor something she would have expected to do, but she can think of nothing else to express the magnitude of her relief, of her gratitude.
She mutters quietly, words and phrases archaic to the point that they are near nonsense, but her meaning is not hard to gather.
She'd had no idea, she had seen none of it, she hadn't dared to hope.]
[ he is stiff, at first, unaccustomed to being held. legolas is so casual with it, but he is used to that. but legolas is legolas, and this is galadriel- this is a female elf.
thranduil relaxes once she speaks, even manages a mirroring arm around her, offering the comfort she seeks. he switches to sindarin, the middle ground between the two tongues, and allows for the familiar pronouns, verbs. he is delicate and kind, because he remembers hearing the same news from legolas, how he had felt. ]
I assumed Legolas had told you when he arrived. Forgive me, Galadriel, I would not have allowed you to be afraid.
[ he holds her-- no, they hold one another, and he firmly does not think of doriath. he has become quite good at it.
he speaks only when she stops. ]
I did not question him at length, but according to my son, you and Elrond sail, as well as the- wizard- sail soon after the close of the War.
[Her laughter is a light, almost bubbling sound but it catches as it leaves her throat, hitches around the freshest of her grief. The Wizard? There were precious few left and, among them, it was easier to envision Mithrandir, arisen from death, than Radagast stepping onto a ship. The whole of her shakes with her laughter and, after a few moments, she realizes she is all but sobbing into Thanduil's shoulder.]
He fell--[She explains, at first in Quenya but then in Sindarin as she catches herself. Her joy is overwhelming but it is impossible to hide the tears in her voice or on her face. She makes no attempt to.]--he was taken by a Balrog in the mines below the Misty Mountains.
And he lives.
[Eventually, she releases him, but the whole of her is taken by a boneless, weary ease. She hasn't even the tension to hold her posture and bends forward toward her loom, willowy and ancient.]
I did not succumb and Mithrandir survived...and all that I had hoped for came to pass. And your son...he has brought this news.
I cannot possibly repay him, or you, for telling me this.
I am beginning to suspect he was no Man at all. [ such a clever pretext has been kept up, he has been in the dark about so many matters- inasmuch as the courtesy of being told has ever been given to him, but. he can guess. he has always been clever enough. ]
He lives. [ thranduil confirms, and releases her, the hand on her shoulder lingering. if she can draw comfort from it, she is welcome to it. ] He lives, Legolas lives, the Enemy is defeated.
[ it cannot hurt to repeat it like a mantra. his wait is over. the him that legolas knows can sail, once he rallies his silvans. he will see his father, his wife, his mother. or- he would. eru has chosen him for another purpose. ]
You owe me nothing, cousin. [ he withdraws his hand, holds it neatly in his lap. his tone lightens, becomes playful. ] Please, do not say that to him. He is a good son, a good prince, humble- enough praise and he will end up like me.
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I have read of Shartan, but only briefly. [Unlike Thranduil, she made no effort to curb the vowels or the lilt that Quenya imposed on that name.]
Referenced, in passing, as I studied accounts of the--[For this, she abandoned Quenya altogether and used common. It did not deserve the title it had been granted.]--Exalted Marches.
[She drew a deep breath and, while she didn't brace herself, she prepared herself for his probable dissent.]
I had not considered asking, nor waiting for such things to be granted. One cannot return what has been stolen and call it kindness. [It was a dangerous sentiment, but one that applied here far better than it did in Arda.]
I would take what is required; such things will not be gifted. The elves of these lands hold little regard.
no subject
[ he reaches for a note tucked into his sleeve, and lays it at her side on her bench. the words are written in common; he sees no reason to leave written sindarin or quenya where it might be captured and translated. though the language of their people is nuanced, and words might mean ten different things, he is cautious none the less. ]
So, are we to retake the Dales as they were, before the Chantry took them? There is much love for that place. Perhaps, though, we need not extend the borders as far west. [ out of his sleeve comes a map. he sits next to her, spreads the rendering of thedas over the bar of the loom, gestures as he talks. he has put a good deal of thought into this. ] We need the Frostbacks on one side, and there must to be access to the sea. Halamshiral is necessary for the symbolic victory alone, and they ought to have the Arbor Wilds at their backs. The climate of that place seems similar enough to my forest, though there are troubling rumors about what might lurk in the wood.
[ as if he could ever be afraid of something like that. he stops to consider her work on the loom, running his fingers briefly over what work she has finished. ]
We must have consent from Ferelden, or at least a promise of noninterference. We cannot be everywhere, and your talents lie in the healing Arts while I am better suited to command.Legolas can lead, but he is untested in control of units numbering more than fifty. [ the slaughter of elves by orlesians is too much, he will not speak of an alliance with them. ] We will need one border secure, at least for a mortal generation. Orlais is weak after the war, her armies decimated. I suspect the Inquisition will be called to handle that at some point. Halamshiral is less than a hard week's ride from Skyhold.
no subject
Still, she refrains from comment and turns her attention to the note, retrieving it and tucking it into her sleeve. As Thranduil joins her on the bench, she turns to regard the map he has draped over her work.
The enchanted wool holds enough of her power, raw and open as she imbues it into the weaving, that it would be obvious to him. It's purpose is harder to guess and, for the moment, she doesn't clarify.]
The mountains are not held by Ferelden, but rather by tribes of wild Men. They stretch into the forests and have no love for the great kingdoms of Men in Thedas. [It is a sidenote, something she stumbled upon only as she read the histories of Leliana's religion.] Should we secure their assistance, we need only hold the Orlesian border. If we claim the land before winter falls, the mountains and the wildmen will be more than enough to cement our position in the Dales.
[But what she was describing was a siege, not an assault. It was a curious distinction considering how she advocated for reclaiming what was taken. In truth, even if Legolas had greater experience, they did not have fifty elves to train, nor to command. They lacked the numbers to take Halamshiral, or to claim a foothold through anything but spycraft.
Galadriel regarded Thranduil's profile and drew a long breath.
If they were to undertake such a task together, it was unwise to operate from a place of ignorance.]
We will need to move silently while they are in disarray. If we can claim land here--[She lifts a hand and gestures to the south, circling a space where the wilds have penned in a corner of the Dales against the Frostbacks. It is not Halamshiral, but it is not far from it.]--it can be held without notice.
I will see to it.
We must first ensure that there is safety for those who would gather under our banners, in our protection. Many of them lack the skills to survive the wilds and I would not see them fall ere they reached us, even if the forests are more easily held.
no subject
[ that is what it circles back to, in the end. they need the tribes in the area, skilled in a way their city brethren are not in surviving in the wild, in the sort of warfare mirkwood knew best- attack, retreat, knives in the night and arrows in the enemy before the enemy knew they were there. he studies the area on the map with thin lips- honestly, the textured map in the advisors' room would work better, but he makes do. ]
We need an offering. Proof, alongside the claims in our letters. I cannot make lembas, and Legolas has very little craft, but his hands are less bloody than mine, better suited to baking, despite his sex. Are there any among our kin here who you might take under your wing? Ashariel- Ellana. [ how quickly he converts their names into sindarin, approximating differences. ] Merril. I do not know her clan name. Fiona, the leader of the mages.
[ he taps the nearest town marked next to the area galadriel has indicated. best they address this now. ]
We need to decide how the shem will be handled. Any accused of rape, murder, or grievous injury to an elf should be subject to your gaze. I will handle the guilty. As for the rest- let us be kinder to them than they were to us. A generous stipend for resettlement, and a guide to escort them to their new homes. Wars kill farmers first- Ferelden will be glad for men and women to work the fields, and there are many empty farms left in the wake once we clear areas of Red Templars.
no subject
[Ellana had expressed a fondness for the idea of the trees, for old knowledge, as had Merrill. Either might be taught baking and, of course, Legolas would be offered the knowledge as well, but she held little hope that he could learn the craft. Siuona was given to the growing of plants, but Samwise Gamgee was the best choice, in her mind, if they wished to grow one of the golden trees.
She would ask for the hobbit's assistance once their conversation was done.]
Ignore them, for now. [Galadriel eyed the map. The town had a name that was not unfamiliar to her, but she was not eager to address it, nor why she knew it.]
I have sworn to avoid such things, the reading of mortal hearts, and it is not a promise I would break lightly. The presence of a town will hinder us little and, once we are stronger, they may leave of their own accord.
Then, if you like, we may offer gifts to those who would resettle or punishment to those whose guilt is known.
Without need, I would not interfere in mortal affairs, nor make promise of land that we have not claimed. We shall have enough difficulty aiding our own people without taking on the welfare of the shemlen as well. Ferelden may not be so accommodating of the displaced, not as we strip them of their slaves and servants.
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In this area, it would be to our advantage if there was an abandoned estate of some sort that we might use as a base of operations. [ did she know of one, in other words, or did they need to make trouble until there was one?
he exhaled, looked over what had been and would be the dales, then back to the dot that was skyhold. ]
What I would give for one of my patrol units. Legolas is clever, but he is one elf, and it will take months for him to build a group to support him, fight with him.
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There are scouts and spies among our Dalish kin, those who I trust, and many who may move freely. One, you have seen, numbers among my galadhrim already, though I am loathe to ask more of him after all he has suffered.
[She pauses and removes the map from her loom. She is gentle while folding it and does so in a way that leaves the Dales exposed. She passes it back to Thranduil and, quietly, continues weaving.]
I shall learn what I can about the area. [Through whatever means necessary.] If it is lacking a foothold, we shall carve one out ourselves.
You and I are not so feeble that we cannot assist your son, should the need arise; these Men are ill prepared for elves of our skill. If their numbers are small, for this, we will need no assistance.
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[ again, something else they must address now, before it festers. his hand rests on the shuttle without touching hers- he is always very careful about that- and he waits until she looks at him before he speaks. they are both unimaginably old. he looks at her and sees what he cannot find a match of in the eyes of anyone else here. legolas is yet too young, and he is glad for that, for that innocence. ]
I do not disagree with what my father did. You have always hungered for a forest, for your kingdom. Say what you will about titles, we both know a king is a glorified steward in the end, and you fill that role for your wood. I am faulted too; we were begat in Arda Marred. I am selfish, possessive, prideful. Whatever distance we had between us there cannot exist now.
[ he lets the magnitude of it set it, gives words to what he suspect she also fears to acknowledge. ]
This time, this place- Ilúvatar sent us here. You know it to be true. [ and it is a humbling, trembling thing to allow that thought to settle. eru's hand is in this. ] This world was affected by the Discord, though I doubt Morgoth has set foot here, if he knows of it. Ilúvatar means for us to mend this, and we will fail if we set ourselves as- Silvans and Galadhrim from the start. We cannot fail the elves here because of our... animosity.
[ a very careful wording. doriath sits between them. oh, he is not a fool to think they will ever manage to exorcise that ghost wholly, but. the dalish. the people. the elves dead and yet begotten. this is larger than them. ]
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Truly, so far from home, brought here by the very hand of Eru, their differences are naught but petty squabbles. They are best forgotten.
That it was Thranduil offering such an accord was startling, however, and she is silent as she considers him. Unfortunately, the longer she does, the farther her thoughts manage stray.
Oropher bore striking resemblance to his brother and, while Thranduil is not so close, there is enough in his countenance that the familiar creeps through. Only a moment passes before she turns away from his gaze and closes her eyes. Her sigh is short and, were it not silent, would carry a wavering thread of the sorrow she'd shared with Cole.]
You are right.
There is far too much to do. These lands require both our aid, I will not hinder that.
[She draws a breath and reopens her eyes, but her stare is lowered and distant. Were they anywhere else, at any other time, she would not have corrected him.]
I will not see your cousin again, save perhaps in Mandos and I cannot bear to wish for such things.
If you must...[And it was a rare occurrance indeed, that he addressed her by name.] His is the name I prefer.
It is all that remains and I would keep it, if I can.
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What did it feel like, to be torn from him? Celeborn was alive when you left. Was it akin to a hot knife in your heart, or was it more subtle, an utter undoing?
[ he, of course, is still free to probe at the raw edges calenmiril left in her wake- and they are the same as they were a year ago, a decade, two decades, ten, twenty-- ]
Of course.
[ he smiles. ]
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She doesn't need to read his heart to know the origin of that stray, malicious curiosity. She has known him long enough, if only in passing, to see what is missing from his smile. It is by virtue of that and that alone that she answers him.]
You have never seen the sea, and I fear you are too young to recall the darkness that seized the world ere the days of dawn.
Long before I met your cousin, before I saw the shores of Beleriand, we walked through the darkest night across the great floes of ice. Never have I felt such crushing, endless cold, nor so often lacked starlight as my guide.
When the first dawn rose, the world was changed.
The grinding ice glittered with a brilliance that was utterly new, the sky was warm, and there was such grand possibility, such endless beauty before us that, for a moment, we might forget the evil that drove us forward, the conflict that lingered ahead and behind.
[Her tone was even, not through restraint but simply resignation. She shifted her gaze back to him, the grey expanse of her work before them both and, frankly, all the more fitting as an accent for this conversation..]
That sunrise has finally set.
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But it was not [ he said ] a tearing, a rending, a devastation. An unmaking. Only a fading.
[ he sounds tired. his hands stay in his lap, resting, not fussing with his rings or lingering on his sleeves. odd, how her people were excited when the sun first rose. he remembers it. if melian had not told them of the death of the trees, they would not have known, living in starlight only. and if melian had not told them to be calm when the burning ball of fire first rose in the sky, they would have panicked and thought it another device of melkor. ]
A muting of the bond, rather than the destruction of it. [ he does not sigh. the exhale is not purposeful, not a sigh. he lets go of the anger that boils in him whenever he thinks of her, of the manner of her death. he looks- not young, not to a mortal, but if galadriel looks, she will see a set to his shoulder more suited to the thranduil of doriath, rather than the thranduil of mirkwood. ]
Celeborn will worry, and Celeborn will fret, and possibly ride to Elrond with his concerns, where, I suspect, Elrond will tell him he felt much the same way when your daughter sailed to Valinor. A stretching of your marriage, not a severing.
[ he means to comfort, when he sets his hand over hers. ]
The sun will rise again, Galadriel.
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It is a rare gesture, but one she had offered his wife freely. It is her memory that clings to him and this simple motion is all she can think to do that might ease the pain of it.]
Thank you.
[But it is a meager reassurance, despite how readily she takes it to heart.
She cannot bring herself to admit the truth of things in Quenya; when she speaks again it is in common. The language is brutish and fleeting but well suited to such news.]
He does not intend to sail. [She is uncertain if Celeborn had said as much to his cousin, she had never asked.] In both our absences he will evacuate to Greenwood.
He would not consider leaving, not until the shadow had been driven from your woods, if at all.
Middle-earth is his home.
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[ he's certainly glad to elaborate on this point. his hand stays in hers. it is enough to center him, though he retreats from further showing of weakness like a cat from water. ]
He should mind his own wood and think less of expanding. He has never fought the spiders, and would be a hinderance to my Silvans in their patrols. Legolas has said that after the War, he stays in Mirkwood and helps her return to Greenwood once more. My son has the task well in hand.
[ he continues to work over the thought as they sit. there is silence, but they are both old enough to know when to speak and when to refrain. ]
Should he arrive in Mirkwood saying you have vanished, I will be suspicious at first [ thranduil when are you not suspicious ] but will provide whatever aid he needs. Legolas is from the Fourth Age; he has not mentioned either of us being absent. [ more firmly. his hand squeezes hers, he looks to her to comfort, to soothe. ] Iluvatar arranged for this, I doubt He will allow for any ... skips that would prevent the destruction of Sauron. Perhaps at the end of our time here, we will return, and it will be as if no time has passed at all. Perhaps we worry for nothing. We are elves, we are patient. We must wait.
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As he continues, though, her expression shifts. She is uncommonly open, right now, and her brows furrow with, at first, confusion and then shock. She is no stranger to arts that bend time, but this--even though Samwise Gamgee wore a cloak of her make, carried one of her own personal affects, and claims they had yet to meet, she couldn't have guessed, wouldn't have guessed--Legolas had seen the turning of the Age?
Sauron was--would be defeated? Her woods had not burned? Celeborn was not lost?
The sheer scope of what he is implying, what he suspects, is so vastly different from what she has resigned herself to that, for an instant, there is an expression like awe across her features. She has only been in Thedas a short time but that grief, that fear, had already begun to drag her down. Like a lead weight pulling her beneath waves, it had been relentless and now--now it was lifted, insofar as it could be.
She had been brought to her knees with grief and, now, she shook as the weight of it left her.
For the first time in Ages, she lacks words. She couldn't thank him for what he had told her and he couldn't have known how it had ailed her. Without thought, she reaches forward, wraps an arm around his far shoulder, and draws him into a tight embrace. It is something she has never done, nor something she would have expected to do, but she can think of nothing else to express the magnitude of her relief, of her gratitude.
She mutters quietly, words and phrases archaic to the point that they are near nonsense, but her meaning is not hard to gather.
She'd had no idea, she had seen none of it, she hadn't dared to hope.]
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thranduil relaxes once she speaks, even manages a mirroring arm around her, offering the comfort she seeks. he switches to sindarin, the middle ground between the two tongues, and allows for the familiar pronouns, verbs. he is delicate and kind, because he remembers hearing the same news from legolas, how he had felt. ]
I assumed Legolas had told you when he arrived. Forgive me, Galadriel, I would not have allowed you to be afraid.
[ he holds her-- no, they hold one another, and he firmly does not think of doriath. he has become quite good at it.
he speaks only when she stops. ]
I did not question him at length, but according to my son, you and Elrond sail, as well as the- wizard- sail soon after the close of the War.
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He fell--[She explains, at first in Quenya but then in Sindarin as she catches herself. Her joy is overwhelming but it is impossible to hide the tears in her voice or on her face. She makes no attempt to.]--he was taken by a Balrog in the mines below the Misty Mountains.
And he lives.
[Eventually, she releases him, but the whole of her is taken by a boneless, weary ease. She hasn't even the tension to hold her posture and bends forward toward her loom, willowy and ancient.]
I did not succumb and Mithrandir survived...and all that I had hoped for came to pass. And your son...he has brought this news.
I cannot possibly repay him, or you, for telling me this.
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He lives. [ thranduil confirms, and releases her, the hand on her shoulder lingering. if she can draw comfort from it, she is welcome to it. ] He lives, Legolas lives, the Enemy is defeated.
[ it cannot hurt to repeat it like a mantra. his wait is over. the him that legolas knows can sail, once he rallies his silvans. he will see his father, his wife, his mother. or- he would. eru has chosen him for another purpose. ]
You owe me nothing, cousin. [ he withdraws his hand, holds it neatly in his lap. his tone lightens, becomes playful. ] Please, do not say that to him. He is a good son, a good prince, humble- enough praise and he will end up like me.