The Last Elf Queen of Arda

Chapter 16 - The Dowager Queen

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Winter lay over Emyn Duir like a sparkling veil, turning the water in the fountains to cold diamond and blanketing the rooftops with frost. Down in the forest there was little snow, although all but the mighty pines had shed their leaves to the woodland floor. Higher up into the arms of the Black Mountains where the city lay snowflakes fell regularly. Whenever one went out of doors they could see their breath hanging suspended before them in tiny clouds.

It was on crisp mornings like this that Anthelísse often passed the time by conversing with Queen Nellas. As Thranduil grew wiser and more confident in his role as king, Nellas little by little had been relinquishing royal duties to his keeping. The more time Anthelísse spent in Emyn Duir, the more she saw the great benefit in this gradual shifting of power from mother to son. Had Thranduil returned from Mordor to have the entire weight of the Woodland Realm thrust upon his unready shoulders, things more likely than not would have gone poorly. With the queen measuring his abilities and handing over responsibility only when Thranduil proved himself capable, Nellas had in Anthelísse's estimation ensured his successful accession.

As much as Thranduil's increasing powers as king meant that he was coming into his own, it also meant that he had less leisure time to spend with Anthelísse. When Anthelísse had been at her brother Gil-Galad's side, they had shared the burdens of leadership of the Noldor. Here among Sindarin and Silvan elves though Anthelísse had no place in governance. Instead she had to content herself with listening and learning both from the queen and from afar.

Seated in the palace solar, Anthelísse was thoroughly neglecting the task of embroidering a pair of gloves. Instead she was a captive audience for Nellas, who was at the time describing the intricacies of meshing Sindarin governance with the customs of the native Silvans. It was a complex and delicate subject, one that often left Anthelísse wondering how it was that the two peoples could co-exist together so well. Any foolish human would be quick to say that surely the races of elves cannot be too different from one another. Any elf could confidently say otherwise.

Aislinn and Iminyë were far less interested in the topic. The two handmaidens sat a short distance away, their black and gold tresses almost interweaving as they leaned their heads together to gossip. A Sindarin elf with silvery hair was eyeing their whispered conversation with interest. Aislinn noticed the extra pair of ears and scooted aside on the carved bench to make room. Soon elf maids both Noldo and Sindar alike were chattering away like a tree full of sparrows. And, they were doing so in the Sindarin tongue.

Anthelísse noticed this exchange and smiled to herself. She was happy to see that the loyal Noldor who had followed her here were finding places for themselves within the court of Emyn Duir. Baeglos, the minstrel who had performed at Thranduil's coronation now regularly rehearsed with the other musicians of the court. Anthelísse mused that if they were to remain here long enough, eventually her people would even begin to entwine their lives with the folk of this land.

"Anthelísse? You are not listening."

Nellas's comment was a statement rather than a question. Chagrined, Anthelísse returned her attention to the rather bemused looking elf woman whose slim knitting needles flew even as her green eyes looked elsewhere.

"Ai, I am sorry Lady Nellas. I was thinking on the future of those who accompanied me here."

Nellas arched an eyebrow. "It seems to me that your folk are settled in nicely. What of yourself, Anthelísse?"

Anthelísse considered her words before answering. "I am greatly enjoying my time here, and cannot have asked to be hosted more graciously by your people."