Chapter 1: A meeting in Mirkwood
Thranduil rose from his throne and followed Curunir into a secondary chamber that branched off of the throne room, signaling for his guards to close the door, and bar other visitors. When the door swung closed, he turned to his visitor.
“I am surprised to find you so far from Angrenost, Curunir. Has the enchantment of the Iron Fortress begun to rust?”
“Nothing of the like, Thranduil, but I felt that I needed to hold a council with you. Romestamo and Morinehtar yet remain in the east, and though I can still feel that they have a presence, I have little and less idea where they might be found. Olorin remains somewhere in Eriador, where he seems to have taken a great concern with the halflings that inhabit the Shire. Aiwendil lives nearby, I am told, but I am also told that his mind has wandered from the events which he once maintained a close eye on. I have no doubt that he has observed the danger that the lands are in, I do not believe that he will be much use in developing a plan to deal with it. That leaves myself. Come now Thranduil, you cannot pretend that you do not know of the dangers that face your wood.”
The elvenking scoffed. “I knew of the dangers a thousand years ago when I built these halls, Curunir, but no one was willing to listen to me then.”
The white wizard looked uncomfortable. “I am sorry for that, my friend” he said quietly, “but would you truly refuse our help now? The White Council gathered a fortnight ago, and Olorin revealed the true extent of the darkness in these lands.”
Thranduil still looked resentful. “And why have you come here to tell me this now?”
“Come now Thranduil, can you truly tell me that you would not take the opportunity to reclaim your realm? Do you know what it is called by men in these times?”
That at last drew a reaction from the Elvenking. “Indeed, ‘Mirkwood’ they dub my mighty Greenwood, and they speak of it in whispers, and gather close around their campfires when the word leaves their lips. So yes, I know exactly how men speak of it.”
For a moment, the Istari appeared worried that he had gone a step to far, and fully incurred the wrath of the elf, but he quickly regained his confidence, and composure. “Good,” the word rolled smoothly off his tongue, “Then retake your realm, with my aid, and I will require only one favor from you.”
“What aid can you offer me? Unless you intend to march every step of the way by my side, wielding magic against my foes, then there is little you can do in the war that is nigh.”
“I have many friends, Thranduil, and quite the reputation. At my bidding elves will flock to your banner, and I can send word through my contacts to many others. With my aid, your realm can gain a military power that the elves have not seen since Elu Thingol ruled in Doriath.”
“A tempting offer to be sure, Curunir, but you mentioned something that would be needed from me. I cannot accept until I hear your full proposal. And do not think to talk circles around me. It is not a wise man who banters with an elf.”
“Of course, I would not consider it, my request is straightforward, and not for my own benefit, but for the benefit of all the free peoples. Surely you would not turn down such a request, even if it meant more effort for you.”
“I warned you about attempting your word-smithy on me. You may be a Maia Curunir, but we elves are first among Illuvatar's children, and not to be trifled with by anyone.”
“Of course, that was not at all my intent. Once the greenwood is fully back in your hands, I need you to march against the horse lords of Rohan, they, ah, have fallen under the sway of Sauron.”
“Truly? They have always been staunch allies of the Steward’s people, what could have caused a turn?”
“I suspect that their king has discovered a palantir and has been in communication with Sauron. It would be simple for the Great Deciever to convince a mere man to side with him.”
Though still suspicious, Thranduil agreed reluctantly with the wizard, “Very well, after the greenwood is green once more, we will march against the eoras, and help you protect your Agrengrost.”
Curunir looked surprise that Thranduil would think to mention his fortress, as a motivation for the campaign, and a little worried, but he managed a graceful bow, and left the King’s presence.