Thranduil's Dilemma

The day was yet young, dew still clinging to each blade of grass as Galdor led Elbereth out of Mirkwood forest to the bridge and paused. Towering above them were the grand white walls that revealed the entrance to the mythical Halls of Thranduil.

The King of the Woodland Elves had successfully championed his kin and secured continuity for the House of Oropher for over a thousand years. He was known to all for his distrust of strangers, yet this inherent cautiousness had not stopped him from nobly fighting evil when he deemed it fitting.

Elbereth smiled encouragingly at Galdor, sensing his unease. The incandescent light surrounding her had already alerted the Realm's guards to their coming and more Rangers were issuing forth from the majestic doors. Their surprise was not unfounded.

Lothloriel's Guardian had denied Galdor's request to send word of her imminent arrival, with the simple statement, 'It is unnecessary, my Champion, as I have already communicated with the Elven King.'

Galdor was puzzled by her words, as he was by many things concerning the Maiar. Had she sent the Eagles to convey her message? Did she have other forms of communication at her leisure? He sighed. He did not know the answer and it would appear impertinent to query the Keeper of Lothloriel.

Elbereth took a step forward, nudging Galdor into movement. As they approached his fellow Elven brethren, he feared they would attempt to lay hands on Elbereth and take her bound before Thranduil, as they were commanded. But as they neared, the Rangers fell back, forming a guard of sorts, and wordlessly followed their passage within the Halls with glazed looks.

Galdor hesitated not, he proceeded to lead Elbereth directly to the Throne of Thranduil, unsure if the King would even be there, yet certain that his guards would have immediately informed him of the commotion at the entrance to his hidden Halls.

The Light of Elbereth cast a glittering hue as she walked, illuminating the dark cavern and bouncing off the gemstones still clinging to its walls. Reaching the last steps leading to Thranduil's throne, she moved ahead of Galdor, pausing just at the top step, her gaze steady as she observed the Woodland King.

Thranduil lazed on his throne, not only a sign of his ennui, but also the reaction to a true weariness that had overcome him this day. His nightly reverie had been deep and troubling, he doubted the truth of what he had witnessed and was annoyed at the tricks his mind seemed to be playing.

Casting a glance towards the stairway, becoming aware of the confused whispering of many elves just below, his eyes fell upon a dazzling light and he squinted inadvertently. At the edge of the luminous glow he could just make out Galdor, Elf of the Trees.

Thranduil sat upright, his eyes slowly growing accustomed to the blaze and he demanded loudly of his throne guards, 'No dirweg! Man ceril?' (Be watchful! What are you doing?).The guards had no answer and seemed unwilling to move against the source of the brilliant light.

'Vedui, Thranduil Oropherion!' (Greetings Thranduil, Son of Oropher!), Elbereth's harmonious voice filled the cavernous Halls, refreshing the minds and hearts of each who heard it. The Elven King remained seated, the dulcet tones captivating his senses and activating his memory of the previous night.

And as the vision rose again in his eyes, the radiant halo issuing from Elbereth dimmed enough for him to discern her earthly form and after a moment he recollected himself sufficiently to intone,

'Hiril vuin, melda Tarí, mae l'ovannen. Le nathlam hí,' the words rushed from his mouth, his voice dropping to a husky whisper of disbelief, 'Iston i nîf lîn!'

(My Lady, beloved Queen, you are well met. We welcome you here... I know your face!)

Thranduil struggled with musings, lore, fancies and the cold reality of his being. He did not trust his legs enough to stand and approach the ethereal being before him, yet he trusted less to the myths and legends of the past.

'Anwa, arod Thranduil. Telin le thaed.' ('True, noble Thranduil. I come to help.')

Elbereth smiled softly and nodded, 'I came to you in a dream,' her tone lilting, yet an underlying steel in her words, 'The world is changing, valiant Thranduil, the Shadows are lengthening once again. The time has come for you to reconnect with your fellow Elves, the courageous Men, brave Hobbits and sturdy Dwarves who all call these Lands their home.'

Thranduil did not take his eyes off Elbereth, but his mind was in turmoil. Against his better judgement, one look at her and the truth of her heritage was hard to deny, yet the Valar had seemingly abandoned the dwellers of the Eastern Lands eons ago. His realm was secure. His Rangers held the spawn of Shelob at bay. What would he gain at seeking allegiances against another unknown enemy? He pondered all this and much more before responding.

When he again spoke, the tone of the Elven King was proud and unbending. 'The Woodland Realm has endured for more moons than Man, Hobbit or Dwarf can ever hope to exist in their short lifespans. We have no need of their help and there has been no entreaties for aid on their part!'

Thranduil folded his arms across his chest, leaning back into his cushioned throne, waiting expectantly for Elbereth's next utterance.

Elbereth bathed her surroundings in a splendid  luster and no Elf who witnessed the meeting of their King with the radiant stranger doubted her origin or was left untouched by her compassion.

'Tar-Thranduil, I am no Queen. I am Elbereth Elentari of the Ainur, formed before Eä. I hope only to open your eyes and heart to the realities of your changing world.'

A slight tremor shook the caverns and Elbereth's speech faltered. A message from the Valar King Ulmo pierced her consciousness. She sought Galdor's face, her eyes closing and he, rushing to her side, cried 'Man le trasta, Arwenamin? Man cenich?' ('What troubles you, My Lady? What do you see?).

Elbereth regained her composure, her hand resting lightly on Galdor's arm as she gazed into his eyes and with a mute nod, communicated her wellbeing. Ulmo's summons was urgent, but they must bring their current errand to an end first.

The Defender of Lothloriel exhaled deeply and stepped back, his attention returning to the Elven King, who had risen from his seat as the walls trembled.

'Thranduil, lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad,' (Thranduil, listen to my words, come back to the Light), Elbereth's declaration echoed throughout the realm. She regarded the King with sadness, the weight of her sorrow resonating in waves and stripping the Woodland Elves of hope.

The Woodland King remained rooted to the spot, his indecision at war with a yearning to bend to her Will and follow her counsel. He descended the stairs, the desire to be closer to her Light guiding his steps, but just as he was within an arms length of her and before he could answer, Elbereth turned to leave, her parting words falling like Doom among the gathered elves and their King, 'The choice is your own. 

'Ú-ethelithon, Eruchîn. Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya.)

('I shall not be returning, Children of Eru. May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky.')

Galdor watched as the gravity of her message saw Thranduil fail, only just holding his stance, his face ashen, his eyes beseeching as her Light faded from his immediate presence.

Elbereth passed the gathering of Woodland Elves and descended the many stairs with Galdor by her side, until she departed the Halls, crossing the bridge and disappearing completely as the darkness of Mirkwood devoured her. Her focus must now move to Ulmo's call and a request for help from another quarter.

Thranduil, after watching the Light fade entirely, returned and sat alone on his throne, falling into a reverie, his mind troubled as the words of Elbereth Elentari echoed through his soul.