Weaving a Song

Chapter 1

c. 2020 Third Age

Thranduil woke the next day with his mind still echoing the words of the messenger sent from the Valar. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face, his thoughts now racing with anticipation and slight anxiety. Next to him, his wife stirred most likely because their bond was telling her something was different with him. His thoughts went to what might happen to her if what the messenger said was true, and he thought they were. With that in mind, he then wondered at the fate of all of Middle-Earth. It had always been uncertain living where they did in Mirkwood with the Orcs and Spiders and ever encroaching darkness. Now, however, he had been told that all of Middle-Earth hung in the balance.

"Thranduil?" His wife asked concerned now sitting up beside him. Oiolairë could obviously tell that something was wrong.

"Yes?" He asked, straining to sound fine. His pride obviously told him not to tell his wife, that it would end up fine and nothing need be worried about. Then again, messengers of the Valar were not usually something to be ignored.

"We have a strong enough bond so you don't have to lie to me." So Oiolairë was able to read him better than most.

Thranduil sighed. "I had a vision last night… in a way." He paused to let the words sink in. "It was different because I could only hear words, there was no visual. It was a man's voice that came to me and said that he was a messenger from the Valar."

Oiolairë's eyes betrayed the shock that she heard at his revelation. "You've never had such a vision before."

"No… It was quite a new experience." That was the more obvious approach. He realized he still had not revealed what he had actually heard.

"What did he say?" Oiolairë asked, revealing that she had realized as much. Thranduil did not answer for a minute. He was still too confused himself. She will be able to do what even Elves have trouble with. What does that mean? Oiolairë sensed something of what was wrong through their bond.

What is wrong? You seem as if judgment has been decreed on you.

He… he told me something wonderful.

Then why are you hesitant? I thought…

He also told me something dreadful.

(fear pulsed slightly through Oiolairë) Why can't you tell me? What do you mean both wonderful and dreadful?

I fear hurting you. It… it is something you may find… I am unsure of what has happened myself. I wish not to get you excited, only to become full of fear.

Telling me this is not helping. You are only making my imagination wander more. I only wonder what could be so wonderfully dreadful.

(A mental sigh) You are carrying a child, a girl.

(A pause and then sudden joy) How could you possibly not tell me that? What dread is there in that?

He also said that she would have something like a gift, but that she may not survive the coming days. He added that the fate of Middle-Earth hangs in the balance. He finally looked at his wife whose eyes had widened in fear as she touched her stomach.

"She might die?" Thranduil shrugged helplessly. What answer had he to give? He knew nothing besides what had been told to him. He gathered her into her arms as she leaned into him. He felt her tremble slightly, and he held her closer.

"It'll be okay. We can assume she will live quite a long time. Otherwise, what would be the point of giving me a vision?" He paused hoping his own words were true. Then he smiled as his thoughts led him elsewhere. "Besides, we all know Legolas will be thrilled."

Oiolairë laughed, "True enough," she agreed but then sobered quickly. "Perhaps we should wait to tell him."

"Why?" Thranduil asked and then felt a little guilty as Oiolairë turned her eyes from his. He knew Oiolairë's reasons for keeping silent for the moment. He knew she felt she had injured his own pride.

"Just in case…" Thranduil nodded. Besides, by keeping silent, they would make it an even bigger surprise for Legolas later on, not to mention the rest of Thranduil's realm.

"If that makes you happy," he said. She reached up and kissed him.

"It does." Thranduil smiled and then got out of bed and got ready for his kingly duties awaiting him. It would be a long wait for the daughter he always wanted. My little aranel… He thought. Oiolairë then smiled as well, reading his mind. She knew her husband as well as he knew her. He had waited a long time for this child, longer than she had wanted him too. With that, she knew exactly what they should name this girl when she would arrive.

Thranduil?

Yes?

Her name, it should be Almiel. Thranduil smiled as he turned to look at her. She could both see and feel the joy emanating from her husband.

Yes.