The Lord held his breath when the Elvenking's pale hand reached to the envelope. He set his fingertips on the roughness of the paper.
"Lusis?"
"Next to nothing," she shrugged. "You're safe."
He released her hand and lifted the thing. After a moment of staring at it in their expectant silence, he turned it over. "Such yellow and coarse paper. No watermark to it. It is not elven. We produce our paper from mulches of wood dust and it is pressed differently. Each land has a mark."
"Mirkwood has several." Mused Lord Elrond.
"Yes. There are many communities outside my Halls," said the Elfking distractedly. "I rule them. I don't tell them where they must reside." His pale eyes were fixed as he looked into the envelope. "No address. No name. No writing whatsoever. Just a seal…."
"As happens more than you would think when dealing with the Northern Dunedain." Elrond made a graceful gesture at the blank condition of the envelope. "I thought it no more than a letter from them. Even Tatharion will send missives in this state, and many there can write in tengwar. They believe any letters intercepted in this state will tell the interceptor very little."
"And here we are," the Elvenking said dryly. He set the letter on the table before him and leaned over it. "Did you feel or hear anything within it before you opened it? Coins would make sound, and the weight of the envelope would be irregular. It would no longer be completely flat." His head tipped and his eyes narrowed. He pulled the envelope closer.
"I felt nothing of the sort, and heard nothing. It could only have been a slip of paper," Elrond's head slowly tipped forward and he asked, "Do… my old friend, do you honestly believe you will learn something about the identity of our attacker from as common an object as an envelope?"
The Elfking's pale grey eyes widened. He snuffled the red seal, which had a simple impression upon it – a gull. His eyes narrowed, "Lightning."
Lusis gawped and knocked the thing out of his hand. It fluttered to the floor where she stood over it. Dorondir looked at her oddly and she told him, "Know what smells like lightning?"
"Dragon's blood." The Elfking looked across at Elrond. "That is the spell, Lord of Rivendell. That is what laid you low. Enchantments created by someone resourceful enough that the seal has mint oil mixed in its wax, lest you detect the smell of the dragon's blood that makes it dark red. And the gull is a symbol… of what? The sea? The West? A gull may travel back and forth freely."
His white-blond head cocked mildly left and a faraway look crossed his lowered lids. He was a sea elf, after all. She wondered that he wore no crown in the presence of the Council of the West. He was, before anything else, a King. He needed to remind them of that.
The Elfking's eyes rose, "When you opened the seal, it was little different than when I opened the dragon. Steel to blood." He eyed the little crow's feather of steel that the Lord used on letters. Its make was incredibly refined. The forges at Rivendell were Noldorian and second to none.
"Would that your dragon had been the author of this. You've taken her head," Elrond sighed and eased back in his chair. "If this had been her cleverness, I could heal of this and walk free of this place. As it is, Loss of the Vanyar is saying he should bear me West at once. He is one of Those Who Woke. They have no father but Eru."
Lusis found it terribly hard to believe, "He's that old?" she added, "Really?"
"Most Vanyar should be," the Elfking drained his wine and set the cup on the table. "It is simplicity itself to deal with someone who is as old as time, I assure you. And you, Lord, will pay for abandoning the field during their visit."
Elrond held up a flattened hand and said, "Paying. Right now." He gave a mildly satisfied smile.
Lusis glanced over at the Elflord, "To confirm… we're using Lord Elrond to find the enemy?"
"That is the only plan you left to us," the Elfking told her. "You healed me."
"If you had any sense, you'd let me heal you both," she sighed at him and then pressed her palm to her forehead. "But you're so full of schemes and plans."
His head raised. "I am."
She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. He was inveterate. She glanced over her shoulder at Dorondir who still looked at her. She picked up the envelope and put it back in the parcel he'd carried. "We need to seal it away."
"Fire will seal it," said the glowing King beside her. "I will see to it."
"Dorondir, I haven't seen my troop, or my brothers, since waking, or my elf-friends, and Ewon was hurt. Can you take me to them?" She looked down at herself, "Right after you take me to a change of clothes. To my Ranger clothes, I mean. Wherever they are."
"Of course, friend-Lusis," he said quietly. "Please pardon me, great ones."
The Elfking stood aside and watched Lusis closely with his silver eyes as she passed from him and went to stand with Dorondir. "Please call for me if you discover more," she asked uselessly, for the shining Elfking had already averted his long eyes to the right. She soaked in the sight of him, glowing like some celestial arm curled in him and a star lodged in his heart. He was breathtaking.
Lusis hurried to turn from him.
Dorondir gave a departing bow and closed his hands behind him as he walked with her.
They went out by way of a hall that sloped upward, and they were entering the main body of the guest halls before she spoke to him again.
"I hear they threw you in jail." She said quietly. "I'm sorry about that."
"Thank you, friend-Lusis," his chin dropped, which was as close to a nod as his kind came. "I am grateful it was house-arrest. I was kept in the upper caverns by the offices of the King's Elites. They… they made sure I was comfortable and cared for."
She glanced over at him, "Still. You obeyed your King, and were punished for it."
"I forsook my King for the sake of my Lord, and I am a spy, friend-Lusis. I believe Eithahawn did the right thing by his King and his father. I believe he feared he might do me violence if he did not put me out of his sight."
"You strike me as being quite a bit more dangerous than Eithahawn."
"When his King is outside of the Halls, the power he wields is the power of a King. And when he is inside of them, he is as a Prince. Only Legolas could outrank him, and that only because he was born of the union of King and Queen. He could easily have banished me. It would have gone that way, I believe, but that the Elfking put Eithahawn in my charge often after he figured out I was a spy out of Rivendell – Lord Elrond's." Dorondir's head dropped and he couldn't find words for a moment. He finished. "My thanks for your concern."
He was a Noldor, she bet, just like Lindir was. "Well, if he banished you, with hope you would have come back to the King, and I'd have asked you to join my troop. You're a good warrior, strong, and tireless. We don't have to live here, Dorondir, and I don't forget my friends, particularly not when they've been laid low."
The elf exhaled, "He needs you. You know of whom I speak."
"And, at that point, you would have needed me more. Trust me, the Elfking is capable of making decisions quickly to get what he wants and needs." She pushed on the long fabric that tried to tangle up her lengthy steps. Elves glided. It was humans who stomped around. This was no worry for them.
He inhaled and glanced over her. "You look beautiful. I am curious. Why would you want to change out of such lovely clothes?"
She exhaled, "Because my brothers and my troop have never seen me in a dress."
There was a long pause before his green eyes slid toward a tall open room to the left. "Then hide, while I fetch your clothes. It would not do for you to be taunted by your brothers."
She scowled at the fact he was trying, very hard, not to laugh on the end of that.
"You do look beautiful." He told her before she stepped into an empty guest room and, seeing as there was no door – this being an elf room – she slogged over to hide behind the wardrobe. Nothing embarrassing about a grown woman doing that.
He was as good as his word, and brought
her washed and patched clothes to her, but with new pants of elven make, new underclothes, and a new leather vest as well. She dressed quickly, and kept her leather boots and the cloak. She needed a couple more pairs of these elf boots made, she decided.
Dorondir smoothed her dress over one arm and nodded at her. "They are straight down the hall, and through the gathering-room, friend-Lusis. You will see them."
Of course she would. There were no doors. But he pointed at her hair as she started by. "You may think to muss your hair. It is so smooth, right now, with such lovely waves."
"Got it," she nodded at Dorondir. "If you see Eithahawn, I'm looking for him."
"Yes, Yellow Istari."
"Burn that." She pointed at the dress.
"No, Yellow Istari." He chuckled and turned from her. "I will bring it to your rooms."
"My what?"
"It is for later. Much later. You may now face your friends and brothers without the shame, and the power, I might note, of this elf dress of yours," he bowed to her.
"You're making me grumpy," she stopped trying to mess up her hair and just bound it up with a cord from her pocket. When she turned to look for him he was in the hall. He walked backward a few steps, his green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, before he vanished up one of the nearby passages.
Lusis hadn't had any downtime since she'd left her former home in the North.
Her first stop was to round up her troop and her wide-eyed brothers. She was determined to show them around this place.
"I thought the elves were leaving the land." Elsenord pointed around at the stream of elves on the walkways overhead. One of whom loped along after a small Silvan elf child running at her top speed.
"No one tells the Elfking what to do…" Lusis grinned and side-hugged her brother. "Except for the elves of Mirkwood. They'll go when they're ready to go. The King makes an effort to get along with the other children of Eru – Men. Us. He doesn't seem inclined to leave us in a lurch, considering his actions saved Long Lake from an invasion of snakes larger than the worm-head you saw him kill."
"That," Remee spread his hands in air, "was amazing. He moved so… slowly. Not what you'd think. He didn't move quickly until the killing stroke."
"The King knows how to kill dragons." Lusis pointed up into the hundred-foot dome of the Halls above and showed them where great white walkways ran wall-to-wall. "Those things that brace the old stone of these hills, you can see them to either end of the great cavern? Those are dragon's ribs. The Kingdom's-seneschal remembers when he came home and they appeared in the earth hereabouts. They're part of a dragon the Elfking brought down."
"There is a Kingdom's-seneschal?" Elsenord turned to walk backwards and found that a young and curious elf glided behind them. He couldn't have been – by his appearance – more than twelve or fourteen, and looked like a girl with a slender body, slightly broadened shoulders, and long chestnut rings of hair, but there he was with daggers, a very real bow, and arrows, and when he saw he had a Ranger's attention, his round cheeks reddened, and he stepped off the side of the bridge. He dropped onto another and shot through the elves there. "What a place. I… I think we had a tail."
Now Steed's brows rose, "Ah, at that age a human can hardly look them in the eye, Elsenord. They're little more than children, and spook easily. I know this."
"Because you are thick with elf-blood?" Redd patted Steed on the head with a hand so large it covered the other man's entire crown. "So much so it will take you years to grow back all that facial hair they had you shave off?"
Steed chuckled and shoved at Redd's hand. He even sounded more like an elf, actually. The more time he spent among them, the more he answered that part of his blood. When Redd let him alone, Steed added. "Because of how elves speak to one another. And I know the story of my great-grandmother, in fact. When she was a child, she refused to speak before the age of ten. Later, she explained she spent the time hearing some of our thoughts and trying, striving very hard, to have the family hear hers. Some are blooded enough to do this. Some are not. But imagine a young elf faced with Men. They can hear nothing from Men – it is our nature. They have spent their young lives surrounded by the thoughts and intentions of elves, as if swimming in a warm pool. And we are dry land. Silent as the grave. We're frightening. And, as with my kin, it takes time for them to build trust."
"Ah. Poor child," Elsenord said. "It was not my intention to scare her."
"Him." Steed corrected and noted, "I imagine that the King had the same difficulty as a youth. The Tatharion say 'If you do not underestimate a child, there will be fewer surprises later'."
"Here's my saying: Slow down," Icar muttered from the back of the line. "Hard to walk and draw. Yes."
"You are doing well, friend-Icar," Amathon said from over the Ranger's shoulder.
Icar jolted, half turned, and elbowed the big Elite. Amathon smothered a smile and tapped the book deftly. "Keep going, friend-Icar, or why do you think I was quiet back here?"
It didn't take much prompting for Icar to return to drawing. The cross-breeze lifted Amathon's thick, wine-red hair and riffled it in air around him. "Lusis-sell, you are right about the bones bracing the hills. A dragon's bones haunt the slayer. They are never far. All the Halls are shored up so. And, without, there is the head of a very old dragon, long since having fallen into the King's power and been purified. Her skull is closed in earth, and so her great eye-socket is a pool for the King to swim in. Ask him. He may show you, given time."
"And how many are you in census?" Elsenord asked.
Amathon glanced up at the Ranger. "Some things you cannot ask of me, Elsenord Buckmaster."
He cocked his head, "Are… are you not permitted to say?"
"I have only an estimate," the Elite told him, "and I am not permitted to relate it. If you wish to know, that is the business of the King, the Prince, or the Kingdom's-seneschal."
"It's only that… we were told we would be alone in this world and that your kind were abandoning-" Elsenord caught himself and said, "leaving us to our own devices."
A gloriously-dressed elf woman, not two feet behind, pushed her black waves over her bare shoulder and said, "The day is still young, Rangers, and we have but tasted the fruits of this beautiful forest – our world, long fought for – this Age. There is no hurry."
"Nimpeth?" Lusis glanced over the woman in an attitude of disbelief. The Elite looked so soft and lovely in her pale lilac dress. Her blue eyes glittered as she smiled at Lusis.
"Are you going to see father?" the elf asked.
"Yes. He wasn't in the," she glanced up at the levels where she'd come awake, "the same place where I recovered. The, uh, nestasad. Where is he?"
She wove through the men and stood with Lusis. "Are you trying to learn Sindarin? All Elites must learn the King's language. I should not be surprised, given you guard him as we do. If you want, I will help you."
"Ai. Teach her Silvan. The King knows it as well." Amathon pushed his wine-dark hair over his shoulder. "It's from Nandorian, and easier than learning Sindarin. Such a language is fine if you're born to it and your parents are whispering it in your head for years, but it is complex to speak."
"Any of us can teach you Silvan. You only need ask." she pointed out and waved Lusis and her Rangers along with her. "We'll take you to adar, but we must hurry. There are festivities to see to."
"Some kind of festival?" Remee asked excitedly.
"I suppose so," Lusis could only agree. If she looked down she could see carts of flowers coming in from the grounds-keepers. The people of the Halls were clearly happy, and she could definitely live with that. In fact, it made her happy too.
Amathon caught up with his wife before them, and she linked her arm around his. It was unprecedented to see their kind being so comfortably warm.
Someone laughed in the buzzing of moving and working people. This was about the only place that elf laughter, and all that it meant, could be heard ringing freely. Beside her, Elsenord gawped. "W
as that… one of them?"
"This is their home," Lusis passed through sunbeams and opened her arms. "If you can't laugh in your own home-"
"It's Buckmaster Keep," Aric finished with a growl. "You think the big-guy is okay? I expected him to be around more."
Lusis cocked her head, "The Elfking?"
"I meant Ewon," he sighed and wiped his palms in his leathers, "but… yeah, now that you mention it. He was spent. I imagine that fighting so many dragons takes the pluck out of you."
"The King is fine," she told him. "I saw him earlier with Lord Elrond. He's recovering."
"This way," Nimpeth said and came back to Lusis' side. She motioned up at thick domes of glass beside which they were about to pass. This glass was multicolored and many feet deep. Easily as deep as Redd was tall. It had been included when it had been made, with the colored images of white, roan, and grey horses with riders in cloaks of many sheer colours. Some few rode tall white elk just as King Thranduil now did. "The glass you're seeing in this section came from Doriath. You'd be surprised how much has been salvaged from those ruins by Sinda who yet reside here, and, of course, through the strength and wisdom of Silvan elves. We have eight or nine breeds of flowers from those shores, and almost a dozen fruits. We rescued seeds and cuttings from the sea."
"It's beautiful," Lusis marveled at it, not sure how they'd managed to make the coloured glass stay in its intended shape.
"Doriath was full of marvels." Nimpeth nodded. "We are all taught that."
Remee asked her, "Fair-elf, were you there?"
"Not me. Not any of mine. I am Silvan through to the end of our line. Amathon's family has four Sindar in it… so far. Tall thing." She glanced up at him, fondly. "His fifth-emel – fifth-mother – is Sinda. She is one of the curators in the book rooms. She remembered where these glass domes were in Doriath, and was able to help in their recovery. They bring light to the Halls, yes, but more than that to our friends, the Sindar." She led them off the main thoroughfare and onto another winding bridge.
Wild Monster Page 15
