Thranduil: the true story  To Wrap An Elven Princeling  3. Fire
And Mist  Part Three: Fire and Mist  The arrival at Dale was
subdued, for Thranduil and Galion were hardly the princely
retinue that had set out from Mirkwood days before. He had even
stopped for a short time in the hills outside of Dale to let
Galion brush him down. He had stood, patient and uncomplaining
as his own horse, while his valet fussed over him, removing the
debris from his hair and repairing the damage to his clothing as
much as possible. It seemed so very pointless, as if he was a
thing of straw, a stuffed dummy fit only for show.  It was a
glorious summer evening. Girion and his family waited on the
steps of the King's House to welcome Dale's most important ally.
"Forgive me, my old friend, for being late," Thranduil said.
Girion's face was grave with concern. "Thranduil, my brother! My
heart grieves for your trouble. If I can be of any help, you
have but to say the word."  Thranduil shook his head. "All that
can be done is being