Almost as soon as Elerína and Thorongil returned from their trip to Annuminas Thorongil left for an adventure in the frozen north.  He was gone for six weeks, time which Elerína used to finish her teaching at Bree's school and wrap up their affairs in the small town.

Soon after Thorongil returned he and Elerína loaded up their horses and left Bree.  Most of the Bree-folk were sad to see them leave. Elerína had become friends with almost everyone - the mayor of Bree might have been worried for his job had she stayed much longer.  Despite their best efforts no one was able to convince the travelers to reveal where they had come from or why they had stayed as long as they had.

They travelled to the Woodland Realm by way of Rivendell, the high pass, and the northern path through Mirkwood.  The only adventure they had was on the secret road through Mirkwood; Thorongil swam the enchanted stream and lay asleep on the opposite bank for nearly a day despite his confidence that the magic would have no effect on him.  Elerína was most amused by this, and avoided the water entirely by floating across through the air in a display of power that Thorongil would have thought very unwise had he been able to keep his eyes open.

They reached the doors to Thranduil's Halls in the first week of October and immediately Thorongil, Aeglos in hand, demanded to see the king.

As he and Elerína entered the hall he addressed the king in a loud voice.

"Hail Thranduil, son of Oropher," was as far as he got.

"Eönwë!" cried the king, recalling a happy day of his childhood - the liberation of Menegroth in the Year 560 of the first age.

*

A young Thranduil jostled his way to the front of the crowd in the main hall of Menegroth.  Following the death of Dior it was hardly even a shadow of its former glory, the last refuge of those too proud or frightened to abandon their once glorious caverns.  Thranduil had heard rumors that the war was over - that the armies of Manwë and Varda had finally broken through Morgoth's line at the river Aros and Morgoth's host was retreating beyond the Esgalduin.  Menegroth, what little remained, was free once more!

They had been under siege for years.  Had it not been for the Great Host's timely arrival which drew Morgoth's attention away from the broken kingdom of Doriath, they would surely all have been hauled away to Angband in chains.

"Make way!" cried an elf, leading the commanders of the liberating army into the great hall.

Thranduil and all those with him gasped.   At the head of the procession was a great warrior in incredibly ornate armor of shining silver and gold.  In his right hand was a long silver spear, and in his left a red shield with fourteen white stars. His armor was not what stunned the crowd, however.  They gasped at his wings - wings like a great eagle's which sprang from his back a bit below the shoulder.

Many in Doriath had seen a maia.  Melian their former queen was counted mighty among their kind, and a few soldiers had seen the servants of the enemy: balrogs and werewolves and vampires.  Nevertheless, seeing the Herald of Manwë before them in full battle dress was something none of them would ever forget.

"Is it over?" cried a voice from the crowd.

"Over?" repeated Eönwë grimly.  "Perhaps for you, if you wish it to be.  You must all make ready to leave these lands, unless you wish to join our host.  Soon everything within catapult range of the Esgalduin will be a burnt beyond recognition."

"I will see to the evacuation," said Oropher, Thranduil's father, stepping forward from the crowd.  He was as close to a leader as the refugees in Menegroth had.

Eönwë nodded.  "Very well. I want anyone who can evacuate before nightfall to do so."

"Why such a rush?" asked Oropher, speaking the mind of many among his people.

"Because if I were the enemy commander I would have pre-positioned siege engines all along the Esgalduin to try to catch our forces in the open along this bank of the river, and Menegroth would be well within range," Eönwë replied.  "Melkor would love to hear that you were all killed as you fled. Hurry! Every moment's delay increases your danger."

At this warning the inhabitants of Menegroth quickly fled their halls.  Eönwë ordered one of his lieutenants to escort them south through parts of the forest which had been fully secured.  When they made camp that night they could see a red glow in the northern sky, and they wept at the thought of their once beautiful wood consumed by fire.  A young warrior named Carmegil swore he would avenge their homeland, and with a few friends asked the nearest soldier how they might join Eönwë's host.

Thranduil saw no more of Eönwë during the war.  He was sent, at his father's command, far to the south and away from the fighting.  Oropher returned north to lead what remained of Doriath's rangers in many campaigns during the Great War.  Eönwë used them as scouts and for hit and run attacks. The Herald of Manwë fought alongside them on a few occasions, something Oropher took great pride in throughout his life.

Carmegil went on to be selected for Eönwë's most elite elven guard.  He fought alongside the Prince of Eagles in many battles. Between his father and Carmegil, Thranduil heard countless stories of Eönwë's heroics.  He often regretted being sent away from the fighting and it was not until he had a son of his own that he understood his father's decision.

*

"Even without your wings I recognize you," said the Elven King smiling.  "I shall order a feast prepared, if you do not intend to order us all to evacuate by sundown."

"Set the feast," Thorongil laughed.  "But first order those present to speak to no one of our identities.  Ours is a secret mission."

Thranduil did as was requested.

"Who is your companion?" the king asked after dismissing his counselors.

"The Lady Ilmarë, my wife" replied Eönwë,  "travelling under the name Elerína."

"What brings you to Middle Earth?" asked Thranduil.

"We are Mithrandir's replacements," laughed Thorongil.

"Surely there is more to it than that," Thranduil replied.  "The Valar would not send their mightiest champion without great cause."

"The council and foresight of the Valar is ours to keep or share at our discretion," said Thorongil. "I will say only that the world is changing: the separation of Aman and Middle Earth was never meant to be, and as it crumbles I fear the enemy may make his play.  Furthermore, as the world is restored the sundering sea will become impassable - no further aid can come that way."

"Middle Earth could have used you a few years ago," laughed the Elven King, only half in jest.

"I assure you that had I been permitted, I would have come," said Thorongil.  "But Mithrandir did well in my stead."

The feast Thranduil prepared was the best food and drink the two maiar had enjoyed since coming to Middle Earth.  They were glad to be in the company of elves, even if they spoke the Sindarin tongue. After a week's rest in Thranduil's halls the Elven King insisted on taking them to meet Thorin son of Dain, King Under The Mountain.  Elerína was eager to see the kingdom of Erebor - she had never met a dwarf.

Thranduil and his personal guard escorted Thorongil and Elerína to Erebor.  After stopping briefly in Dale at the tomb of Bard the Bowman the company arrived at the gates of The Lonely Mountain.

"Aulë would be proud," muttered Elerína as she looked at the massive carved figures surrounding the entrance to the Mountain.

Thranduil received a warm welcome at the gate.  He dismissed his guard to find food and merriment while he, Thorongil, and Elerína were ushered into the throne room.  Thorin III, son of Dain Ironfoot, came down from his high throne to greet them.

"Thranduil, it is good to see you my friend," he said in a boisterous voice.  "What brings you to my mountain?"

"It is good to see you too, Thorin," Thranduil replied with a bow.  "I come with good tidings, but they are not for all ears to hear. May we speak with you in private?"

Thorin led his guests into a small sitting room just off the throne room.  It had furniture in both dwarf and human sizes, and the dwarf sized furniture was all on one side of the room where the floor was raised a few feet.  After he shut the door, Thranduil continued.

"The West has sent ambassadors to aid us in this age of the world," he said.  "My companions are Eönwë and Ilmarë, Manwë and Varda's greatest servants. They travel under the names Thorongil and Elerína."

"By Mahal's beard!" exclaimed the dwarf.

Elerína giggled, to the dwarven king's confusion.

"You find something funny?" he asked, unsure if he should feel insulted.

"Well, I have seen Aulë's beard, and while it's a fine beard I never would have thought to swear by it," she replied.

Thorongil smiled.  He knew that the dwarves would be far more accommodating if reminded that he and his wife were emissaries of their maker in addition to Manwë and Varda, and it had taken her all of a minute to find a chance to remind them.

Thorin was a bit stunned at the thought that his guests had actually met the Father of the Dwarves.

"I think he would be proud of what you have built here," she continued.

"What brings you to The Lonely Mountain?" stammered the king recovering from his shock.  "Do you require our assistance? Supplies? Something of our craftsmanship? You need only ask!"

Elerína probably could have asked for the Arkenstone itself, but that was not in her nature.

"We have all that we require at the moment," she answered with a smile.

"Will you stay with us a while?" asked Thorin eagerly.

"Only a few days," answered Elerína.  "Like Gandalf we must seek out danger before it strikes, and I think we will be needed first in Minas Tirith."

"If you find yourself needing a place to stay or the craftsmanship of my people, The Mountain shall be open to you," said Thorin.

"For that we are grateful," nodded Elerína.

After speaking to the king the two maiar visited the market of Erebor, located in the main entrance hall of the mountain.  Thorongil bought a circular shield which would have been a fairly sized shield for a dwarf but on his arm was a small buckler.  Elerína was surprised at the quality of their textiles. She bought herself a dress in a distinctly northern style so that she could more easily pass as a travelling merchant from Dale if the need arose.

They ate with Thranduil and Thorin that night.  There they learned from Thorin that a large caravan of merchants would be leaving for Minas Tirith the next day.  It would be a ten week journey, but it would be an excellent opportunity to slip into the city unnoticed.

As they prepared to leave the next morning, both Thranduil and Thorin approached them with gifts.

"Take this letter," said Thranduil, "to give to lord Aragorn when you need to reveal your identities.  It is marked with signs and codes to prove its authenticity."

"And take this letter of credit," added Thorin.  "The bank of Minas Tirith will honor it."

The letter of credit was for a very generous sum - more than even a rich man might make in a year.

"We can't accept this," said Elerína.

"That money is owed to me personally, and it is mine to do with as I please," Thorin replied.  "You will have more need of it than I will."

Elerína bowed and accepted the gift.  Both maiar thanked the kings for their assistance.  They set off with the caravan, ostensibly as tourists eager to see the south.  The journey was long but uneventful - the world had not been as safe as it was now since the height of Numenor's dominance.  They traveled mostly due south, through lands of small villages, farms, and long stretches of wilderness where no man dwelt. They crossed the Anduin at Cair Andros, where the merchants groaned loudly at the tariffs imposed.   They passed through the Pelennor, where one could still make out the trenches that had been dug by the orcs during the siege more than half a century prior.

It was early January when they passed through the gates of Minas Tirith.  Thorongil and Elerína ate one last meal with their travelling companions at a tavern on the first level.  When they were done eating everyone went their separate ways.