CHAPTER I

October 22nd, 3018, Imladris

Elrond Peredhil faced west and sighed.

Maps, scrolls and journals lay scattered on the floors and about the furniture of his study, some covered in the autumn-coloured leafs the wind had carried from their landing place on the moist grounds of Imladris into the confinement of his own home. They brought with them the familiar scent of the season, and although life had already abandoned them, Elrond minded his steps carefully as he walked away from the window into the great hall, to avoid them crumbling under his footsteps.

Messengers travelling from all corners of Middle Earth had brought him unpleasant news, the most troubling of which had been put in words by none of them. It had slumbered between other, more innocent words; hidden beneath sentences, visualised in the questioning undercurrent of the straight-faced features of the many news-bearers.

Many a night had he spent at the windows of his home, carefully studying the outline of his view on the world, reliving the past and in his memories perfecting it to fashion a peaceful eternity.
But things had not passed as they should have, and this he would have to accept. More importantly, he would have to face the same evil again and make sure that this time, it could be defeated.

The knowledge that it was travelling east to his house, at this very moment, made his heart crumble. If uncertainty had ever entered his veins, then now it flooded them. The very thought of this unsightly small thing entering his realm, piercing the safe harbour of Imladris to torment himself and his kindred, had truly alarmed the Elf Lord.

But there was no other route for it to take, no other road towards destruction it could travel. It would be taken deep into the heart of his land and there its fate would be decided. Elrond awaited its arrival with fear and anxiety, though somewhere in his weary mind the clouds of remembrance had already started to part and rays of acceptance awoke new strength in him.

A little while ago, a new traveller seeking refuge within the walls of his home, had brought him certainty about this growing threat. The weary grey pilgrim, his mind burdened with great suffering and the resonance of treachery, had not surprised Elrond with his tidings. He had merely confirmed what the Lord of Imladris had already suspected.

Gandalf the Grey had spent hours informing Elrond of what he had discovered, and Elrond had in return informed Gandalf of the many rumours and tidings that had been brought to his home in the past months.
Finally, the wizard had retreated to his quarters, leaving Elrond with his thoughts – and so it had been for two days.

Then, Imladris had been rudely awoken by the deep tremors of the Bruinen’s triggered spring tide – and he had understood the bearer of evil had entered his realm.

He had always feared the Ring would return to him, and tempt him yet again. The thought of it had haunted him for over three thousand years now, and still it frightened him as it had since it first crossed his mind – merely months after Isildur’s passing.

Constantly aware of the threat posed by what lay beyond his realm, rudely reminded of it by Celebrían’s passing, Elrond had tried to protect his children from both the rising evil in the south and the growing fear in his own heart.

Had the Elf Lord been reluctant to leave his home and travel, his sons however had embraced the chance to see the glory of Middle Earth – or at least what remained of it. Even Arwen had not cared for the shelter Imladris provided her with and had chosen to travel to Lórien, and there she had found more narrow-mindedness than in her father’s realm – and she had returned.

Elrond’s heart grew heavy with sadness and grief as he examined this one thought from among the many crowded in his mind: the Elves had grown numb with fear. Even the Lady Galadriel, so great a spirit, no longer welcomed strangers passing through Lórien; and the inhabitants of Mirkwood had grown bitter with greed or shallow with laughter.

If there was one threat the greater, it was that the Elves were giving in to their fears.

The bell was rung, and Elrond awoke from his mind-numbing meditations. He left the empty hall and made for the court, where a small company of hooded riders was welcomed by his own guards.

The Elves, for that was clearly what they were, were dressed in shades of green and brown, and one of them wore a silvery cloak. Elrond waited for them to dismount their horses and then stepped forward to welcome them. His gaze was caught by a pair of clear blue eyes, embedded in the palest of skins. A soft but clear voice filled the air between them, as the silver cloaked Elf spoke:

” Lord Elrond of Rivendel, I come with a message from my father, Lord Thranduil of Mirkwood.” The Elf bowed, and the others in his company immediately followed his example. Elrond tried not to show his surprise and with a slight nod of his head answered:

” Welcome, prince of Mirkwood, to Imladris. Your journey has no doubt been long and hard. I will have my servants provide you and your company with quarters, so you can rest, before we discuss the reason for your unexpected visit.” The young Elf stepped forward and raised his hand in a repelling gesture, but Elrond hardened his look and the Elf remained silent.

” I will expect to see you all at dinner, this evening. May the peace of Imladris refresh and strengthen you and your party, prince of Mirkwood”, Elrond continued, and after making a small bow he left the baffled Elf and returned for his study.

***

Gandalf the Grey was not a fool, but at times he seemed so worldly Elrond found himself doubting the Istari’s wisdom. This was one of those times.

Dinner was being served, and the Mirkwood party had joined Elrond and his company with reluctance, for their garments were meant for the road and not for official happenings as these. Amid the grandeur of the hall and the beauty of Imladris’ inhabitants the company grow even more shy and silent.

Elrond had taken his place at the head of the table, with his sons at his left side, and his daughter at his right. Gandalf had chosen to sit next to her, and entertained her with small tricks, which made her eyes grow clear with dancing sparks and drew small and tender smiles from her lips. The old wizard in return cast admiring glances in her direction, and every silent note of joy was met with a burst of laughter.

Next to Gandalf sat a small figure, an elderly Hobbit, with white curly hair, slow in his movements as if tired, but roaring with laughter at his neighbour’s jesting nonetheless.
Bilbo Baggings had been living with Elrond and his family for a very long time now, and all had grown fond of him – but the Mirkwood Elves looked at him in wonder and small grins were exchanged when the Hobbit would speak or play a trick of his own.

They were well through the main course when Gandalf decided to amuse the Lady Arwen by making the vegetables on her plate move when she looked away, engaged as she was in a conversation with Elrohir about the ways of Men – a subject very close to her heart, as all who lived in Imladris were aware of.

” Oh! Had I not just eaten from this corner of my plate, or is my mind playing tricks on me again?” she cried out in feigned amazement when she looked down and saw the carrots had moved.
Elrond raised an eyebrow, well aware of the chuckles coming from Gandalf’s beard, and muttered:

” Have I raised you with so little dignity, that at this well respected age you have reached, you still feel the need to play with your food?” Elladan and Elrohir grinned at their father’s comment, and the old Hobbit added to the laughter by pointing at Arwen’s plate saying: ” Perhaps the Lady is making up excuses as to why she will not eat her carrots!”

Arwen, enjoying this play more than any of the others, clasped her hands and cheered:
” I know, I know! It is my beloved father, who has put his carrots on my plate, like children would! But father, have you not always told me to eat all that I was given?”

Elrond raised an eyebrow and looked amusedly at his guests, but none of the Mirkwood party as much as smiled.

” It seems our guests are not sharing our excitement about this little mystery, Arwen, perhaps they think we have all lost our minds?” The remark was meant as a jest, but one of the guests jumped up and said, in a voice that did not try to hide anger:

” Has Legolas not told you our business is urgent and our message important? Even before dinner he has, yet you keep us waiting in favour of all this jesting! Are there no things important enough to draw the Lord of Imladris’ attention to what lies beyond his realm?”

A blush had appeared on the pale skin as Elrond raised one eyebrow in questioning irritation, and the Elf quickly sat down again, his eyes averted in shame.

” Surely we are very aware of what lies beyond the borders of Imladris, sir, but if my sister’s joy upsets you so, feel free to leave our company and return later, when all laughter has faded from these halls…” Elladan answered, and it sounded like a reprimand.

They continued their meal in silence, and when all had finished, Arwen was the first to leave the table, saying not as much as a word to the Mirkwood company. She was clearly upset, but most upset was the prince of Mirkwood, who had avoided Elrond’s gaze at all time and was the last to remain in the hall, even after the lights had been dimmed and everyone else had left.

***

Gandalf frowned and looked at a smoke ring he had made. It was purple-like of colour and larger than any of the rings Bilbo had produced. Elrond waited for the wizard to speak, but had already admitted to himself that the news the Mirkwood party had brought him was very unsettling.

” So… Sméagol escaped…” the wizard finally repeated the message, and frowned again. Bilbo seemed to shiver slightly, then mumbled:
” That is not good news. Not good at all.”

” I quite agree, my good friend”, Gandalf answered, before turning to the Elf prince and asking: ” And how is this possible, I wonder?” The Elf, clearly insulted, hesitated before saying:

” Mayhaps my people carry too great a kindness in their hearts, for the creature was not contained as well as it could have been… Although, I am reluctant to admit, his escape was not caused by our failings alone…” The Elf frowned, his youth made clear by the obvious uncertainty in his eyes, before continuing: ” It was helped… Helped from beyond our borders. We oftentimes took the creature to walk with us through the woods, as it seemed to enjoy that, and allowed it to climb a high tree it particularly liked. At one occasion, it refused to come down again. We waited and at nightfall were attacked by Orcs. When the assault was struck down we found it had disappeared…”

” The folly of the Elves!” Bilbo cried out, thus breaking the heavy silence that had followed the prince’s tale. ” To show kindness to such a creature!”

” You yourself spared his life, Bilbo…” Gandalf responded, a hint of surprise in his voice, but Bilbo pretended he did not hear that and sipped from his mug again. Elrond wondered whether the old Hobbit finally realised what he had done, and whether he understood the consequences for his nephew’s safety if Gollum was to fall in the hands of… Elrond dared not speak the name, not even think it.

Not yet.

***

” I need to offer you an apology, my lady, for my companion’s rude behaviour at dinner. He did not intend to offend, he was merely voicing his irritation… and my own.”

She looked at him with the fairest of looks, and smiled slightly. Her long brown hair was like a waterfall, falling down on her shoulders and reaching the lower of her back.
Her silence made him even more uncomfortable, and it was almost as if the words he spoke were not his own:

” Our journey has been long and tiresome, and our business here of a very unpleasant nature… Surely you will understand…” He felt he had raised his voice, and fell silent.

Arwen Undómiel was even more beautiful than Legolas had ever imagined her to be. She moved with a grace not granted to anyone else, and her face was both covered in the openness of youth and the tranquillity brought by the wisdom of ages. He felt ignorant and young in her presence, and nothing was left of the contempt he had felt for her childlike behaviour at dinner.

She stretched out her arm as if reaching for his hand, and said: ” Then accept my father’s offer and let the peace of Rivendel bring rest and strength to you and your company.”

It was not his own hand that moved towards her and touched the pale silk-like skin, and it was certainly not his own voice that answered: ” Now that I have again seen the beauty of this place, I will accept his offer…”

She walked with him through the gardens, listening to the songs of the trees and the flowers, sometimes asking him questions about his home in Mirkwood and his journey. Legolas in turn asked her about her life in Rivendel, but she spoke very little.

When they reached his quarters, the lady took both his hands into her own and smiled, saying: ” Since you have accepted my father’s offer, I can do nothing but accept your apology. Please tell your companion I do not think less of him. May your dreams be filled with laughter, prince of Mirkwood.”

He simply nodded and entered his room, but as he heard the sound of her footsteps fade away, he admitted to himself that he would want them to be filled with thoughts of Arwen Undómiel.

***

A/N: I know that the information given by the Elves is only revealed at the council; but as this is a horrible movie/book crossbreed, I really wanted this bit in; because it motivates Legolas’ coming to Rivendell.
Erm… and yes, I am aware that Gimli hasn’t appeared in this chapter yet.