Wildest Storms | Love of Royals: Book III

IV: Last Homely House

Imladris is a sprawling display of elegance, its staircases winding between sunlit balconies and ornate white towers, all framed by the close embrace of the mountains and bursting with trees of autumn gold.  Light music is carried high over the rooftops that gleam like polished quartz.  A familiar sound is also present: the tumbling roar of the waterfalls, which here cascade through the valley and converge in a great torrent in the crevasse slicing the ground.  Every one of us rapt, we pass through what Fírion informs us is the Eastern Gate, a broad white archway that separates the neat path ahead from the rocky wilderness behind.  I do not pay the slightest heed to where my horse is treading as my eyes remain fixed on the glorious complex spilling down the mountainside. 

I suppose I understand now why many races think the elves are utterly sophisticated.  Little do they know.

We dismount onto the first of a few circular balconies lined with plants and flickering lights hanging from the railings. A tall, dark ellon with an air of austerity—unmistakably Lord Elrond—glides across the dais ahead to greet us. He is flanked by two other dark-haired ellons, both of whom Fírion has taught us to recognise over the journey: Erestor, one of Lord Elrond's most favoured and esteemed advisors; and Lindir, the shyer and certainly more endearing of the two.

'Welcome to Imladris, mellyn nín,' Lord Elrond begins. 'It has been some years since I have last seen some of you. And others of you I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting.' 

'It is an honour to be here. I have long desired to see the Hidden Valley,' says Tauriel respectfully.

'And it is a pleasure to return,' adds Fírion, 'we thank you for your invitation.'

'I bid you find some time among these grave times to enjoy your visit. How many of you will I be seeing later at the council?' asks Elrond.

'Four,' says Legolas. 'Myself, Fírion, my wife Fíria, and Fírion's wife Tauriel. The three youngest of us—Erainiel Thranduiliel, Telamír Fírion, and my daughter Alëaren—will not be attending.'

'Why not?' asks Erestor, with a raised brow directed primarily at me.

'Because they have shown themselves not to be mature or sensible enough to deal with matters such as war,' Legolas says sourly. 'Because of their foolish attempts to sneak out into the forest to fight spiders behind our backs, our guards were occupied when a band of orcs raided our kingdom and the creature Gollum escaped in the chaos.'

If possible, Erestor's brows raise even higher. 'The creature Gollum escaped?  Word was that you had him under the highest security.'

'Our security was diverted,' says Legolas.  He then looks at Alëaren, Telamír and I expectantly.  'Don't you three have something to say to Lord Elrond?'

As if on command, Alëaren immediately scurries to the foot of the dais, Telamír and I following suit, and she clasps her hands together. 'Lord Elrond, I am so sorry that we sneaked out into the forest without permission, and the issues that this may have caused you. I apologise profusely for the actions of my two companions and I that caused panic among the kingdom, occupied the guards, and led to us being unprepared for the raid and so ignorant to Gollum's escape until it was too late. I am so, so sorry. We won't ever behave so irresponsibly again, and we're so sorry. We've acknowledged that it was our fault and that we were reckless and foolish didn't think about the consequences of our actions, and we're so sorry and we're willing to accept any punishment you see fit to give us—'

'Ilúvatar's sake, you're getting carried away now,' I mutter, but Alëaren is undeterred.

'—Because we deserve it for being so thoughtless. I hope with the strength of every Vala that you will find it in your heart to forgive us, my Lord. We are so, incredibly, and eternally sorry.'