The Last Elf Queen of Arda

Chapter 35 - Farewell, Mellon-nin

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Thranduil had little good to say about mortals these days. One thing he would forever grudgingly be indebted to them for however was that first gift of his favorite indulgence. Most all of the Woodland Realm's external trade was conducted with Elrond and Imladris these days. There still persisted one single open account with the human kingdom of Dale to the East though; for shipments of Dorwinion wine from the arbors of the south. Thranduil had sent Daeris to negotiate that contract in his stead, but as soon as he had heard that the River Running was open to southern boats from Gondor he had acted swiftly. It may only be one account, but the ledgers related to it saw plenty of transactions. The king of the Woodland Realm had his vice, and he was quite content with it thank you very much.

"Galion, send for a cask of Dorwinion from the wine cellars." Thranduil said, sitting back on the throne and draping one long leg over the other. The day could not officially start winding down until he had a full goblet in hand. King he may be, but by Thranduil's reckoning that entitled him to a little indulgence after dealing with the matters of the realm for hours on end.

"Very good Aran-nin." Galion bowed and signalled for a servant. The steward knew the inner workings of the royal household better than anyone. Thranduil had never said as much aloud, but Galion knew very well how indispensable he was. That occasionally permitted him to sneak in a few teasing remarks that no one else could have gotten away with. With a wry half-smile, Galion added "Concluding things early today, I gather?"

Thranduil casually dandled one foot in the air. "Unless Maechenel wishes to come back a third time to whine about the details of Mereth Nuin Giliath, then yes."

As is summoned by Thranduil's remark, a page rushed down the causeway toward the throne. Galion could practically hear the king's eyes rolling all the way from where he stood on the audience platform. He hoped the Dorwinion would not be too long in coming. As the page approached though, the grim set of his face made both Thranduil and Galion take pause.

"Aran-nin." The elf bowed quickly. "There's been a report to the front gate...of an attack in the forest. Baraniel requests your presence at the causeway."

"Why can she not walk the hundred steps from there to here herself, and deliver her report to the throne? Have Baraniel's feet become too sore from standing on guard duty?" Thranduil asked drolly.

The page did not back down though. "Begging your pardon my lord, but Baraniel said you would want to come and here the scout's words yourself...She also called for your horse to be brought to the gate."

Galion frowned. That was both highly presumptive and highly unorthodox for Baraniel to have done. Something was afoot.

Thranduil seemed to think so too. Rather than chide the page any further, he gave a curt nod and arose from the throne. His long silvery robes trailing behind him, Thranduil set aside his scepter and set course for the front gates along the wending causeways of the Woodland Realm. Curious, Galion decided to stealthily fall in behind the king.

Sure enough, Baraniel was waiting at the front gate amongst a cluster of rather anxious looking guards. There was also a scout, his forest leathers still stained from fast travel. Upon seeing the king all bowed their heads.

"I apologize for calling you here King Thranduil." Baraniel said. She looked grim. "I would not have done so if it were not of the utmost importance."

"What is it, Baraniel?" Thranduil asked sharply, ignoring her apology. He was not happy with the growing cloud of fear in the air. It was plain in the eyes of the others, pinching their brows and thinning their lips.