Lorinand Memoirs: The Bough Breaks

Chapter 18

Clasping his hands behind him, Garävegión strolled silently along the garden path on the west side of the palace. Pausing frequently to admire the fragrant Ipomoea, a trailing vine whose large white blossoms opened only at night. Closing his eyes and breathing in the soft scents of the Lonicera and Paeolum still hanging in the air, he longed for the quieter life he enjoyed in Doriath. A life that now felt as though it belonged to someone else.

The fall of King Doir had seen many more of the Sindar joining the Teleri clans abandoning the forests of Hithlum in far the west in favor of the lands that lay east of the Misty Mountains. The splintering of the Teleri clan had resulted such a divide between not only themselves, it was now pervading all elven societies. Their cynicism toward those they perceived as a less refined had become like a sickness that had slowly undermined all efforts to achieve the tranquility that once existed.

"I thought I would find you here." Lady Laurefindë commented quietly as she approached him in the garden.

"It would appear it is the only place remaining near the palace where there are fewer prying eyes and ears." He chuckled, turning toward her as she stepped up beside him.

"Yes, it would seem so." She sighed heavily, leaning toward one of the Ipomoea blossoms to breathe in its heady fragrance. "I have received word that Lord Celeborn has made camp just beyond the rise in the fields. I suspect he is not comfortable having been chosen as the one to deal with Oropher in this matter." She continued as they moved farther down the garden path.

"Regardless of his diplomacy there will be a confrontation. It is the only reason I have delayed my return to Esladorei." Garävegión mused, glancing at her briefly. "We both know Oropher is angry at having been forced to send the young prince away at all much less to Lórinand. In light of recent discussions concerning this proposed alliance have not proven to have had the results he first thought."

"Oropher has been cornered in way he had not considered." Laurefindë nearly chuckled in her amusement over the situation.

"How do you mean?" Garävegión asked, a deep frown creasing his brow.

"What he had feared most has now come to pass." She stated, a slight smile curling her lips as she glanced at him. "Securing a marriage would not only have sealed an alliance, it would also further secure his bloodline as rulers within the Woodland Realm. I think we all underestimated the potential outcome of this situation. With Thranduil is no longer within his reach, not only is he aware he is losing control of him, he runs the risk of his abhorrent obsession with our young prince coming to light should he argue any basis in forcing him to return."

"This is true." He nodded, yet his frown remained as they paused near a fountain. "Thranduil is quite safe where he is. I must admit my concerns are elsewhere in Orophers' troubles."

"Tirithiáël?" She asked, glancing up at him before turning her gaze toward the spray of stars in the darkening sky.

"He has endeared himself far too closely to Oropher for my liking." He stated, turning to look at her. "His purported approval of him as king is based on the same misguided belief that Oropher is of the Nelyar as was Háleärgiliäth. Oropher was already quite settled in Lindon by the time Tirithiáël arrived and did nothing to dissuade him from those beliefs."

"I feared as much." She sighed, lowering herself onto the stone ledge surrounding the fountain. "King Dior was not of the same mind as those Sindar who first left Lindon for Edhellond. He did not favor the intolerance growing amongst so many of the clans."

"Thankfully neither does Thranduil." Garävegión sighed contentedly as he leaned forward to smell the fragrant Lindenii bush.

"How are things with him?" Laurefindë asked, turning to look at him as he sat down beside her.