Impulsive and young, Thranduil brings back Aerneth to Doriath as his wife, making his abusive father furious. Through the Ages their hasty marriage is shadowed by war and death, dragons and dark lords, betrayal and kinslayings. How can they ever fin...
~When the foretold disaster strikes Eglarest, Thranduil gets to try Galadriel's mirror.~
oOo
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By Elena Kukanova
The Fall of the Falas
Galadriel poured water into her bowl, and the king leaned in to see better. Since the Battle of Unnumbered Tears he had made good use of Galadriel's friendship with Aerneth to get news from the outside world.
Eglarest had a high tower called Barad Nimras, the Tower of the White Horn, from which Círdan's lookouts had a great view over the open heathlands between Doriath and the Falas. Tidings of the movement of Morgoth's minions were invaluable in these troubled times, for Thingol feared that the Dark Lord might find out about the two hidden elvish cities, Menegroth and Nargothrond, and try to take them over.
When Galadriel made these calls, the king's captains and other march-wardens were usually present as well, and one of them was always Thranduil. He would stay in the periphery, able to see but not be seen.
He knew it probably did him more bad than good, but he just could not keep away. Even if it only was a glimpse, he needed to see his wife's face and hear her voice, to know she was still alive and well.
Today Aerneth had troubling news to share; a great host of Easterlings, orcs and wargs had laid siege to Eglarest and Brithombar and she feared the Falas might fall.
Thranduil held onto a nearby pillar to remain standing, his legs suddenly weak as jelly. So it was beginning then; the foresights the ellith had seen in Galadriel's mirror. Eglarest would be ruined, and Nargothrond, and Doriath.
Aerneth's face was unusually pale in the clear water. "Since the war ended we have been working hard to strengthen our city walls, but the enemy has built towers on wheels and other strange contraptions – we do not like the look of them." She paused. "My adar wishes to speak with the king of Doriath, if he is there?"
"I am." Thingol took Galadriel's place before the mirror, and in the other end Lord Círdan did the same.
"My Lord King, longstanding is the friendship and allegiance between the Falathrim and the Grey Elves of Doriath. Now we need your assistance. With your march-wardens we may still be able to beat the enemy, for you would come at him from behind. These war machines he is constructing – you could destroy them."
"I hear you, my friend. And I wish I could help, I most certainly do – but our strength lies in stealth. Should we leave Doriath at this point, Morgoth will know where to find us and strike back with full force. He might even send out his fiery dragons to burn down the forest that protects us. And then he would soon come for you anyway. Sending out the march-wardens could only give you a slight respite, but the outcome would be the same, only that Doriath would fall as well."
