Thranduil's halls

The Elves' arrival struck Allen as unexpected, yet perfectly reasonable.

The Elves of the Woodland Realm were bound to come and see what their new neighbors were like. Allen simply had not expected them so soon.

In fact, the Elves of Mirkwood had noticed Allen and his party as soon as they arrived near Carl Rock, but they had paid them little heed. In their long, almost endless lives, such things were all too common.

Only after Allen repelled the Orc King's attack did he attract their attention. That was when they realized these new neighbors might be more than they seemed.

When the matter was reported to the Elven king, it failed to draw Thranduil's interest.

The Elven king had sensed the growth of Darkness and was steadily drawing back the borders of his realm.

He welcomed a human neighbor like Allen, who dared to stand against Darkness, but that alone was not enough to command his attention.

It might prove no more than a fleeting success. Before long, the human village could vanish beneath the overwhelming numbers of Half-orcs. He merely ordered his people to keep watching and gave the matter no further thought.

The situation changed again after Allen and his men traveled to the Misty Mountains and fought Bolg.

On that expedition, Allen rescued two wounded Silvan Elves. The Elves in the forest noticed, and once their report reached Thranduil, his interest was finally stirred.

To show Allen respect, he sent his son Legolas to invite him to his palace and bring the wounded Silvan Elves home along the way.

When Allen heard that Elves had come to visit him and invite him to Thranduil's palace, he felt momentarily at a loss.

He summoned several of his principal subordinates, briefly explained the situation, and told them to manage things as usual during his absence.

Then there was the matter of the Dwarves. He had promised to arrange their journey home once the Elves recovered, and clearly the time had come.

Though Allen hated to see them leave, he still sent for Furdin and the others. "My dear Dwarven friends, I'm pleased to tell you that the time to go home has finally come. I'll be sorry to see you leave, and you've done so much for Wilderness Village during your stay, but every meeting must end in a parting. It's time to send you home."

Furdin shook his head. "We've already discussed it. My nephew Frey will stay here, and so will Tyr, to finish the work I've left undone. You only need to send me back this time."

The old Dwarf had made this decision because, during his time here, he had come to deeply admire Allen's character.

He believed Allen would surely build a great human city on this land.

Thus, Furdin hoped to establish a friendship between the Dwarves of the Iron Hills and the humans of Wilderness Village.

These were troubled times for the Dwarves. Another ally meant more strength, and such an arrangement could only benefit them.

Still, old Furdin would have to return and discuss the details with Dáin II. The decision belonged to his king; Furdin could only offer his recommendation.

Unless circumstances left them no choice, Dwarves would never leave their own people to settle long-term in a human town and serve another race.

Allen was deeply grateful for Furdin's decision and thanked him solemnly.

Then he took Furdin to the village entrance to greet the Silvan Elves from Mirkwood.

Ten Silvan Elves had come to Wilderness Village to invite Allen.

The Elves truly deserved to be called Ilúvatar's favored children, living proof of the saying that all the beauty of the world was reflected in them.

Every one of them had a strikingly beautiful face, long hair flowing over their shoulders, and a slender figure. Even carrying their wounded kin, they moved with effortless grace.

Legolas, who led them, stood out in particular. He had long, pale-gold hair and dark eyebrows. Allen's meager vocabulary could not capture the beauty of a male Elf.

All he could say was that Legolas was more handsome than even an ordinary Elf, and his whole body seemed to give off a faint, almost imperceptible glow.

His expression, however, was far from pleasant. He seemed unhappy, and when he saw Furdin following behind Allen, his face grew darker still.

Thanks to the information his men had provided, Allen spotted Legolas at the head of the party from a distance.

When they met, Allen extended an invitation. "Lord Legolas, welcome to my village. Why don't we go inside to talk? Allow me to offer you a little hospitality."

Legolas was somewhat surprised by the unusually young human leader before him, but he did not show it. Maintaining his courtesy, he replied coolly, "There's no need. Perhaps another time. Please make your preparations quickly and come with us to my father's halls. Count yourself fortunate, human. My father does not extend invitations to just anyone."

Before coming here, Legolas had held nothing against Allen.

On the contrary, hearing that Allen had rescued his kin had given him a measure of goodwill toward him.

But upon reaching Wilderness Village, he discovered that Allen's men had been felling large numbers of trees in Mirkwood without his father's permission.

To Legolas, this was an invasion of the Woodland Realm's territory. It angered him greatly, but he was carrying out his father's orders and could not let that anger erupt.

Now, seeing the Dwarf Furdin behind Allen made him angrier still.

As everyone knew, the grievances between Elves and Dwarves stretched back to the distant First Age. Thingol, the first king of the Sindar, had died not at Morgoth's hands, but at those of greedy Dwarves. That was a debt that could never truly be settled.

On top of that, Thrór, the former King under the Mountain, had stolen his family's Starlight Gem. Under these circumstances, it would have been strange for Legolas to look pleased.

Allen did not take offense at Legolas's attitude.

At this point-or rather, around the time of the Battle of Five Armies-Legolas was not particularly mature. He was hot-tempered and childish.

He was already an adult, and far from young, but under his father Thranduil's protection, he had yet to mature.

Only on the eve of the War of the Ring did he truly begin to grow, though even then his temper was hardly ideal.

Looking at Legolas's sour expression, Allen smiled. "Very well. I'm already prepared."

With that, he called to Furdin, Alayen, and his nine personal guards behind him to get ready to leave.

Allen had originally wanted to bring Ymira, but she was too busy to get away. That would have to wait for another opportunity.

As for Klethi, she had wandered off to play again and was nowhere to be found. Allen did not want to take her anyway.

When Legolas saw that Furdin intended to accompany them, his anger flared.

He furrowed his handsome brows and said to Allen, "My father did not invite a Dwarf to his halls."

Allen glanced at old Furdin, then back at Legolas. "Lord Legolas, your father, His Majesty Thranduil, the esteemed king of the Woodland Realm, invited me, did he not? Since he gave no specific instructions otherwise, I believe the right to decide who accompanies me belongs to me. Wouldn't you agree?"

Legolas's handsome brows drew even tighter.

He said nothing more. Instead, he turned and began leading the way, calling back without looking over his shoulder, "Then hurry and keep up."

Wilderness Village lay a considerable distance from where the Wood-elves lived.

Even with Elves guiding them, the journey from Wilderness Village to the hidden gate now before Allen took more than five days.

Had the party consisted only of Elves, they would not have needed so long. Elves did not need to sleep, and they could run swiftly.

The humans and the Dwarf in the party did need sleep, however. Fortunately, Allen and his men were no weaklings. They were all in excellent physical condition and did not slow the journey too much.

Once they entered Mirkwood, Allen's first impressions were of darkness and oppressive closeness.

It was said that a magic lingered in Mirkwood that made those who entered it terribly drowsy, until they began to hallucinate.

Allen experienced none of that along the way. He guessed that the Elves had some special means of dealing with it, but he never pried into matters that might concern the secrets of another race.

The days spent traveling through the forest were dreary. They could not see the sun and had no sense of time passing.

Their surroundings seemed endlessly the same: trees upon trees, without the slightest change. When darkness fell, they rested; when morning came, they pressed on in silence.

Since Legolas maintained his sour expression throughout the journey, Allen lost any desire to chat with him. He could only follow the Wood-elves onward in silence, along an Elven path that seemed to have no end.

There was some good news, though. The two wounded Silvan Elves actually began to recover.

Their condition had never improved while they were in Allen's village, but now they finally showed signs of getting better. Allen was genuinely happy for them. He did not want people he had struggled so hard to save to die in the arms of their own kin. That would be a tragedy, and he hoped there would be as few such tragedies as possible.

Within the forest, Allen could scarcely keep track of the passing days. He knew only that he had been walking for a very long time.

Then, one day, their surroundings finally changed.

They entered a stretch of forest where the trees grew farther apart. The sun appeared between the branches, and sunlight occasionally fell across Allen's face, leaving him feeling refreshed.

Farther ahead, Allen stepped onto a stone bridge spanning a rushing river. On the other side stood several arches formed by great trees, beyond which lay the entrance to a palace.

Green slopes rose on either side of the palace. The great trees upon them stretched down to the riverbank, their thick roots reaching straight into the water.

Once inside, Allen and his men kept looking around the palace like country bumpkins.

It was not that Allen had never seen places more lavish than this, but he had only ever seen this sort of enchanted woodland style in films. Supposedly, this palace had also been built by Dwarves.

The palace contained elements of magic as well-or at least, Allen considered them magical. The door he had just entered through closed on its own, for instance. Then there were the silvery-white lights. He could not tell what made them shine, but their glow was steady, just like the electric lights of his previous life.

For Allen, who had spent two months using candles, they offered an inexplicable sense of familiarity.

The party stopped before a corridor formed from the roots of great trees.

Legolas went inside to announce their arrival. Before long, he returned with several Elves.

"You may come with me to meet my father now. My people will take good care of your subordinates, including this Dwarf from the Iron Hills."

Allen had never worried about the Dwarf. Thranduil would surely not make trouble for old Furdin. In both the film and the original story, even when Thorin rejected his proposal, he merely locked the Dwarves up and kept them supplied with good food and drink.

This Sindarin Elf was a wise king. Though he was something of a recluse and kept drawing back the Woodland Realm's borders, Allen suspected it was because he greatly cherished the lives of his kin.

It was true that, after death, Elves would go to the Halls of Mandos in Valinor to be reborn.

But this branch of Elves in Mirkwood was different. Neither the Silvan Elves who had originally lived here nor the Sindar who had migrated here later wished to go to Valinor.

They preferred life in Middle-earth, and both their former leader Oropher and their current leader Thranduil deeply respected the traditions of this place.

Upon meeting Thranduil, Allen was once again ashamed of his limited vocabulary. All he could say was that this Sindarin Elf was every bit Legolas's equal in beauty.

Unlike Legolas, however, his bearing was regal and his expression composed. He was clearly a king of great dignity.

He wore a crown woven from flowers and sat on a carved wooden chair, watching with a hint of amusement in his eyes as Legolas brought Allen before his throne.

The king rose and descended from his throne, a smile on his radiant face. "Welcome to my palace, benefactor who saved my kin."

Allen nodded to Thranduil in greeting. A little nervous, he found himself saying more than he had intended.

"Esteemed Lord Thranduil, there's no need to thank me. The history of our two peoples helping one another reaches as far back as Nirnaeth Arnoediad in the First Age. The great Elven king Thingol even took in Húrin's son, Turin Turambar. Though some unhappy events followed, it remains a tale worthy of remembrance. There are also accounts that Beren, a man of our race, married King Thingol's daughter, though it was so long ago that it can no longer be verified. Compared with the great deeds of our two peoples thousands of years ago, what does this small thing I've done amount to?"

Allen's words surprised Thranduil a little.

These events from thousands of years ago were not things just any young human could casually recount. He even began to wonder whether the young man before him was human at all.

Yet Thranduil found nothing unusual about Allen. Looking at the black-haired young man, he could only ask cautiously, "Are you descended from Bëor or Hador?" (Of the stories Allen mentioned, one concerned the House of Bëor and the other the House of Hador, both ancestral houses of the humans of Middle-earth.)

Allen noticed the faint surprise in Thranduil's eyes. "You can tell from my hair that I'm not descended from Hador. My family has many historical volumes, covering everything from thousands of years ago to recent times. I've lost myself in them, but ironically, none of those books records the origins of our own people."

Thranduil relaxed a little and said jokingly, "I hadn't expected to find a young sage standing before me. Forgive my discourtesy. Please, come with me."

Allen hurriedly replied, "How could I presume to call myself a sage before wise King Thranduil? Please, just call me Allen."

A faint smile touched Thranduil's lips, but quickly vanished.

Afterward, they went to the king's banqueting hall, where Allen, Thranduil, and Legolas sat at a separate table.

The Elves began bringing out delicious food and fragrant wine. Thranduil welcomed Allen once more and declared the banquet begun.

Thranduil took a sip of wine and asked with apparent casualness, "Then, young sage, do your family's records say anything about the grievances between our people and the Dwarves?"

Allen stopped eating. After considering the question, he said slowly, "There are indeed some tragic tales in my family's books, of things that should never have happened. For example, King Thingol's death at the hands of Dwarves over the Nauglamír, into which a Silmaril had been set. That was a tragedy."

Allen paused, then looked at Thranduil and continued, "Another example is something that happened more recently. Thrór, the former King under the Mountain, under the influence of sickness and the Rings of Power, stole your family's treasure, the Starlight Gem. That, too, should never have happened."

Allen paused again before continuing:

"It reminds me of something a sage of our people once said: humans often seek to learn lessons from the past, but the lesson they most often learn is that humans never learn their lessons. I think that saying could also sum up the two stories I just mentioned."

Thranduil's expression grew stern. He fixed his gaze on Allen. "Those are not merely stories, Allen. Since you know all this, why did you still dare to bring a Dwarf into my palace?"

Now not only Thranduil but Legolas, too, stared at Allen, waiting for his answer.

Allen looked at the two Sindarin Elves watching him and slowly rose. Standing straight, he said measuredly, "Esteemed Lord Thranduil, I believe there is more than hatred between Dwarves and Elves. There have also been great friendships, just as there have between humans and Dwarves. We once fought side by side against a mighty enemy, did we not? In the dark tunnels of the Misty Mountains, I rescued them from the clutches of the servants of Darkness when they were barely clinging to life. So I believe I have a responsibility to see them safely home. Besides, they've helped us a great deal during their stay. I hope that, in your wisdom and kindness, you can forgive this small offense."

In truth, Thranduil did not mind Allen bringing a Dwarf into his halls. Having been a king for over a thousand years, he had that much magnanimity. He merely wanted to see how the young man before him would answer the question.

Allen's answer pleased him. Having lived through countless years, he could easily tell that the young man sincerely wished to return the Dwarf named Furdin to the Iron Hills.

Thranduil gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile. He felt he had met a very interesting young human today.

Over his long life, he had met countless humans, among them many outstanding kings. Yet the young man before him gave him the feeling that, compared with those wise kings whose names endured through the ages, Allen was no less promising than they had been in their youth.

"Of course I won't take offense at such a small matter. In fact, I would like to invite you to stay here as my guest. But I imagine you're eager to take that Dwarf named Furdin back to his homeland."

Thranduil turned to Legolas. "I would like you to guide Allen and his party to the Iron Hills. Return once they arrive."

Legolas nodded and agreed. This conversation had changed his impression of Allen somewhat. Even he knew little of the details of some of the events Allen had mentioned.

Allen nodded his thanks to Thranduil. He knew that he had likely won the friendship of the Wood-elves.

The banquet ended with host and guest alike well pleased.

After resting for a day in Thranduil's palace, Allen set out once more for the Iron Hills.