The Last Elf Queen of Arda

Chapter 5 - Graves in Dagorlad

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It was a somber procession that saw the fallen king Oropher to his grave. All throughout the day the survivors of the Greenwood had been about the gloomy task of burying their fallen brethren. The growing cemetery needed only one more to be complete. Mound after mound of piled earth cast shadows across their path as they sun set, making the ground look darkly streaked.

Oropher's body, cold and still but no less majestic in its shroud was carried by four pallbearers. Thranduil followed behind, likewise having to be carried in a chair with Gurithon and another captain taking up either side. How dearly Thranduil wished that he could have walked for his father's funeral procession! The healers would not hear of it though, and truth be told he was still so weak that there was no argument to be made otherwise.

The elves of the Greenwood walked in silence around the hillside and down onto the plains. The bodies of all the dead orcs had been gathered and burned, and the stench still lingered heavy in the air. Even with Sauron overthrown there was a darkness to the air in these lands, an oppression that hung heavy like the very sky. With so many dead buried here, no one foresaw that this place would ever be anything but forlorn in the future. None of them imagined either how in the years to come the plains would be swallowed by advancing marshland. By that time though it would be beyond their reach to recover the bodies that would be forever lost to the mists and the Will-o'-the-wisps.

The elves sang a soft, sad eulogy as they approached the open graveside. Despite Gurithon's previous words to him in the tent, Thranduil had been almost nervous in watching the faces of his people. If he had been expecting disapproval, reproach or even anger from the survivors of the Last Alliance, he found no trace of any such things. There was only sadness, unmeasured and unspeakable. Not a single Greenwood elf remaining could say that they had not lost someone dear to them in battle. Most if not all seemed to share Gurithon's sentiments though; they did not blame Oropher or his son for their losses.

Relieved enough to attend to his own grief, Thranduil stared at his father's body in its shroud as though he could see through the fine linen wraps. He almost wished he could lift the coverings and look upon Oropher one last time. His fingers twitched suddenly where they were clenched in his lap; a physical manifestation of a fleeting desire. Then he leaned back heavily upon the pillow in his chair and sighed. He is not here anymore. Thranduil told himself. Wherever he may be now, Adar is not in that shroud before us.

Something stirred in his peripheral vision, and Thranduil turned sharply to look at the lip of the plains beyond. They did not expect Isildur and his folk nor any of the remaining Noldor elves to pay respects to the fallen Sindarin king. Isildur was haughty and completely unlike his father. Many suspected that without Elendil the old alliances between men and elves would quickly fade. As for the Noldor, Thranduil now knew without a doubt that many of them actively blamed Oropher for unnecessary deaths upon the battlefield. The Lórien elves too were gone, having left with obvious haste after burying their own king Amdír. Thranduil had no idea who besides their own people would be here.

A banner of dark blue with a silver ship upon it fluttered in the breeze over the heads of the approaching party. Thranduil narrowed his eyes, recognizing it as one that had flown behind the High King Gil-Galad's own standard in battle. It was the ship of Eärendil the Mariner, and although the singers continued their chant at Oropher's graveside many heads were beginning to subtly turn in the assembled crowd.

The folk of Imladris (or Rivendell as Thranduil had heard it called in the Common Tongue) did not make a showy, disruptive entrance. Rather they stood at a respectful distance, heads bowed and silent. Thranduil could not say whether he was pleased or annoyed by their presence. These elves had fought under Gil-Galad's command, submitting to his leadership as Oropher had not. Still, he supposed that it was an honorable gesture on their part.