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Winter lay over Emyn Duir like a sparkling veil, turning the water in the fountains to cold diamond and blanketing the rooftops with frost. Down in the forest there was little snow, although all but the mighty pines had shed their leaves to the woodland floor. Higher up into the arms of the Black Mountains where the city lay snowflakes fell regularly. Whenever one went out of doors they could see their breath hanging suspended before them in tiny clouds.

It was on crisp mornings like this that Anthelísse often passed the time by conversing with Queen Nellas. As Thranduil grew wiser and more confident in his role as king, Nellas little by little had been relinquishing royal duties to his keeping. The more time Anthelísse spent in Emyn Duir, the more she saw the great benefit in this gradual shifting of power from mother to son. Had Thranduil returned from Mordor to have the entire weight of the Woodland Realm thrust upon his unready shoulders, things more likely than not would have gone poorly. With the queen measuring his abilities and handing over responsibility only when Thranduil proved himself capable, Nellas had in Anthelísse's estimation ensured his successful accession.

As much as Thranduil's increasing powers as king meant that he was coming into his own, it also meant that he had less leisure time to spend with Anthelísse. When Anthelísse had been at her brother Gil-Galad's side, they had shared the burdens of leadership of the Noldor. Here among Sindarin and Silvan elves though Anthelísse had no place in governance. Instead she had to content herself with listening and learning both from the queen and from afar.

Seated in the palace solar, Anthelísse was thoroughly neglecting the task of embroidering a pair of gloves. Instead she was a captive audience for Nellas, who was at the time describing the intricacies of meshing Sindarin governance with the customs of the native Silvans. It was a complex and delicate subject, one that often left Anthelísse wondering how it was that the two peoples could co-exist together so well. Any foolish human would be quick to say that surely the races of elves cannot be too different from one another. Any elf could confidently say otherwise.

Aislinn and Iminyë were far less interested in the topic. The two handmaidens sat a short distance away, their black and gold tresses almost interweaving as they leaned their heads together to gossip. A Sindarin elf with silvery hair was eyeing their whispered conversation with interest. Aislinn noticed the extra pair of ears and scooted aside on the carved bench to make room. Soon elf maids both Noldo and Sindar alike were chattering away like a tree full of sparrows. And, they were doing so in the Sindarin tongue.

Anthelísse noticed this exchange and smiled to herself. She was happy to see that the loyal Noldor who had followed her here were finding places for themselves within the court of Emyn Duir. Baeglos, the minstrel who had performed at Thranduil's coronation now regularly rehearsed with the other musicians of the court. Anthelísse mused that if they were to remain here long enough, eventually her people would even begin to entwine their lives with the folk of this land.

"Anthelísse? You are not listening."

Nellas's comment was a statement rather than a question. Chagrined, Anthelísse returned her attention to the rather bemused looking elf woman whose slim knitting needles flew even as her green eyes looked elsewhere.

"Ai, I am sorry Lady Nellas. I was thinking on the future of those who accompanied me here."

Nellas arched an eyebrow. "It seems to me that your folk are settled in nicely. What of yourself, Anthelísse?"

Anthelísse considered her words before answering. "I am greatly enjoying my time here, and cannot have asked to be hosted more graciously by your people."

"But you are missing something, perhaps an old authority that you used to enjoy?" Nellas added astutely, her needles clicking away with a speed and precision no mortal could have managed.

"Oh no, I..."

The queen cut Anthelísse off with a narrow glance. "It cannot be easy, to have gone from a position of leadership, honor and trust among the Noldor to be seemingly relegated to nothing more than a houseguest. Albeit a guest with the special affections of a certain king." Nellas added the last comment with a half smile at her. "That being said, why do you suppose that I have been speaking to you as such length about the politics of this realm?"

"I had supposed you wished me to understand more of your people, and also that you and I share an interest in such things."

Nellas frowned slightly, setting the blanket which she was working on to the side.

"Anthelísse, daughter of Orodreth, do not dance around a future that you and I both know is becoming a more real possibility with every passing day that you remain here. It has been near seven and a half years since first you came to us after the final battle of the Last Alliance. If you were merely paying a visit out of courtesy on your way to the Havens, you would not have encouraged your folk to integrate as they are." Nellas leaned forward in her chair, wintery light falling through the frosted glass windows and giving her face a silver sheen. "Also, if you really intended to leave you would not be reciprocating my son's affections. As a mother I watch over my son both for my part and Oropher's. I do not take you to be the sort of elf to toy with another's affections for short-term amusement. Are you, Lady Anthelísse?"

Anthelísse shook her head vehemently. "No! Certainly I would never!" Her denial was loud enough to make Aislinn's head swivel in her direction like an alarmed owl.

"Then I rest my case." Nellas nodded, apparently satisfied. "If the feelings you and Thranduil have planted and nurtured between yourselves continue to grow on their apparent course, then one day you may very well find yourself in a political position once again. To be a queen is no small thing, much less one of such a nation as the Woodland Realm. Until such time, I intend to impart as much as I have learned in my time here to you." A wry smile suddenly lifted the older elf's lips. "With councillors such as our Master of Coin, you will need every word of wisdom I can give to you."

Anthelísse did not know whether to agree, protest or blush. Instead she settled on a nod of acquiescence. She caught sight of a subtle shade, a tinge of grey beneath the queen's eyes and frowned.

"Lady Nellas, are you well?" Anthelísse immediately began running through her mental list of all the herbs she had accrued in her medicinal war-chest. Summers and autumns spent on the mountainsides proved quite bountiful for collecting useful plants. Many species grew at the base of the Black Mountains that Anthelísse had never even seen before in all her long years. That being said, elves did not fall ill by any such mundane means as humans.

Nellas leaned back heavily in her seat and reached for her knitting needles once again.

"In body, perhaps. My spirit grows weary though, Anthelísse. I have seen the leaves fall in this forest and the forest of Doriath more times than there are stones in a river. I have seen the end of Beleriand, the death of heroes and the loss of far too many friends. Now that the one whom I loved is gone...for the first time I feel a pull to the Havens and the sea beyond."

Anthelísse did not know what to say. She was immediately concerned that the wise and indomitable queen was fading from grief. When she said as much, Nellas chuckled softly.

"Rest assured, I am no such delicate flower as to wilt just yet. The time is not now, but my heart tells me there are only a few tasks yet remaining to me upon these shores."

For a time they worked in silence, the winter sunlight illuminating the marble floor and making the carven wall panels come to life. Aislinn, Iminyë and their new friend giggled occasionally, and soon all the other elleths in the room were engaged in the discussion. Anthelísse even allowed herself to be drawn into the chatter, nodding absently here and there.

A knock at the door brought everyone's attention around, and after a moment Nellas bid them enter. It was Galion, a rolled message held lightly in his hands.

"Begging your pardon Your Majesty, ladies, but a message has arrived for the Lady Anthelísse." The young servant offered the scroll forward, his large brown eyes curious. "It arrived not one hour ago on the leg of a messenger bird."

Rising, Anthelísse set aside her embroidery and went to claim the message. As soon as she touched the parchment she caught sight of the seal of Imladris pressed into wax.

"If you will excuse me Lady Nellas." Anthelísse absented herself from the solar, thanking Galion on the way out. She found a quiet hallway and stood reading beside the window. When she finished, a smile was upon Anthelísse's face as she went to seek the king.

It seemed they had an invitation to call upon Lord Elrond of Rivendell.

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