The Last Elf Queen of Arda

Chapter 17 - A Fool in Love

When Thranduil heard of Lord Elrond' invitation to visit the hidden valley of Imladris, he was hesitant at first. His memories of the half-elven lord were largely overshadowed by the pall of death and battle. The enthusiasm in Anthelísse's eyes even made Thranduil a bit jealous before he reminded himself that Elrond was a long time friend of both Anthelísse and her brother Gil-Galad.

So it was that Thranduil agreed that a visit to the Last Homely House might be a pleasant interlude from governing the Woodland Realm. Queen Nellas was not opposed to ruling in his stead for a short time when they approached her on the matter. Thus as winter's snows began to recede Thranduil, Anthelísse and their escort rode out from Emyn Duir toward the west.

The Misty Mountains were still treacherous in places, their narrow passes slick with melting ice. Still it was far from impossible for the clever elf-horses to manage. They met no orcs nor goblins on their journey, much to the relief of all. By the time the first blossoms of spring were beginning to open, Thranduil and Anthelísse were riding down the mountain paths onto the rolling foothills beyond.

The way to Imladris was hidden from the eyes of the casual observer, and even proved difficult to spot with their keen elvish vision. Finally Gurithon cried out in discovery, waving the way down onto a winding road. The banners of both the Wooland Realm and the Noldor flew above their party, and Thranduil ordered Gurithon to sound horns to herald their arrival. The twisted ox horn rang long and clear over the valley beyond. By the time they reached a stone bridge over the River Bruinen elves were already gathering all around.

Having been warned of their coming beforehand by a messenger bird from Anthelísse, the lord of Imladris awaited them at the great entrance of the Last Homely House. Elrond looked just as Thranduil remembered him; dark of hair and grey of eye. He greeted them with a smile though, looking far gladder than he ever had in the aftermath of the Last Alliance.

"Hiril Anthelísse, melon-nin." Elrond greeted her as she dismounted. The two elves bowed to one another before clasping hands.

"Elrond." Said Anthelísse. "It is ever so good to see you again, Earendilion."

"May I have the pleasure of welcoming you to Imladris, our haven west of the mountains." Elrond lifted one of Anthelísse's long hands to his lips and brushed a kiss on her knuckles.

Thranduil stood slightly behind, watching this exchange with a growing sense of annoyance. He did not begrudge Elrond greeting Anthelísse first, far from it. The easy familiarity and fondness which he and the Lady of the Noldor seemed to share irked him though.

As if sensing the Greenwood king's angst, Elrond smoothly transitioned his attention from Anthelísse to Thranduil.

"King Thranduil, son of Oropher. Welcome to Imladris, you are both honored and admired here. Our people compose songs of your father's courage in battle and shall sing them through the ages."

He and Thranduil exchanged polite bows as befitted individuals of equal rank. Elrond may not bear the title of 'king', but here in his element it was clear the son of Earendil the Mariner was accorded the same measure of respect. Thranduil kept this in mind despite his previous irritation when he replied.

"You honor us with your invitation, Lord Elrond. The Lady Anthelísse and I are glad to be able to pay a visit to your beautiful home."

It was bold of Thranduil to speak for both himself and Anthelísse, to say the least. A few of the Noldor in her entourage murmured softly among themselves in Quenya. If Anthelísse noticed she let the matter slide.

"My home shall be as yours for so long as you are here." Said Elrond, gesturing to the tall graven stairs behind him. He indicated a noble looking pair of elves who awaited them at the top. The golden light of the sun upon Imladris's roofs was reflected and magnified by the shining tresses of the lady, while the lord who stood at her side was as silvery as the moon.