Kindly leave a review as Jon and Galadriel continue their journey towards Dorwinion

Greenwood the Great

After breakfast, the three of them set off towards the court of the Silvan Elves; it was a warm morning with the sun creeping high above the trees, blanketing the valley in a soft ocherous glow.

Upon his Gryphon, Jon could see the forest stretched for many leagues its wide halls and aisles were the haunt of many beasts and of birds of bright song, and there lay the realm of King Oropher under the oak and the beech.

But he had little time to ponder the beauty of the Greenwood as they soon came upon the fortress of King Oropher jutting up from the forest like a spear of stone.

It seemed that the fortress was carved from the bones of the earth, and neither tree nor bought grew on its summit; indeed, it seemed less a stronghold of a Lord of the Forest and more akin to a dwarvish mansion.

"You seem troubled beloved", Galadriel said melodiously.

"It's nothing, my beloved star, though I can't help but judge the talents of these Woodland elves in the arts of masonry," Jon said in a learned tone.

"Aye, what of their talents?" Galadriel asked curiously.

"It is better I look upon their halls before passing judgement", Jon said smiling, before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that she was all too eager to return.

"What possessed you to do that?" Galadriel asked happily.

"Do I need a reason, my love? I am courting the fairest maiden in all of Arda, and I shall show my love for you always," Jon growled possessively.

"At this pace, my lips will ache ", Galadriel lamented without worry.

"Then I'll claim every inch of you until I'm sated," Jon said before peppering her neck with kisses, much to the pleasure of Galadriel.

Alas, the Gryphon wouldn't tolerate such frivolities and began to fly swiftly, separating them.

Jon perceived the beast had done that purposefully and growled in a fury.

"You think yourself clever, you fowl bird? If you wished for us to not show affection, you merely had to ask," Jon snarled, but the Gryphon paid him no mind.

"This damnable bird did that purposefully?" Galadriel asked, annoyed.

"It seems that my companion deems our show of affection to be vulgar", Jon grumbled.

Galadriel said nothing and began to caress his face hoping to soothe him.

"Perhaps it is for the best, my love; we must be presentable", Galadriel said humorously, and Jon chortled.

"Aye, it would do little good to appear before king Oropher in such a mood," Jon said.

Though the Lady of Light was wroth that the damnable Gryphon had despoiled her moments with Jon.

She grew ever more wroth with the foolish beast and hoped the Great King would call it back to Valinor.

Lastly, they landed in the courtyard of Amon Lanc though the guards offered no greeting nor welcome; and as they drew near to the great oaken doors, Jon discerned an air of distrust that seemed to emanate from those elves.

"It seems though we are expected, we shall not receive a warm welcome," Jon said cynically.

"no, I'm afraid not, my love, the Kingdom of Oropher is made up of wood elves; you recall, in the First Age, the Valar summoned the first Elves to move with them to Valinor. There were three hosts that first set out to answer the call of the Valar. Of these, the largest host was that of the Teleri. They advanced very slowly and would often lose sight of the other two smaller hosts. There was a time when they reached the river Anduin, one smaller leader of that host, Lenwë, wished to go no further, and he and his people began to live in the forests surrounding the Anduin Vale as the remaining Teleri continued their journey to Valinor. Their descendants were the Silvan elves of Lothlórien and Greenwood the Great." Galadriel said, happy to share her knowledge with Jon.

"A rather unusual tale, though it does little to justify their aversion towards us," Jon said, eyeing the guards warily.

But to the surprise of young Westerosi, Galadriel sighed wearily.

"Worry not, my beloved, their ire is levelled towards me," Galadriel said, startling Jon.

"How is it possible?" Jon asked, bewildered.

"During the War of Wrath, many Sindar Elves did not sail west but also did not desire to stay with my kin in Lindon and be ruled by them because of the grudge they held towards my people, so those elves travelled east from Lindon and came to this forest, where the Wood Elves had long dwelt in solitude. The Silvan Elves shared common heritage with the Sindar as both the Silvan Elves and the Sindar were of the Teleri clan. Sindar soon merged with the Silvan Elves and embraced and adopted their culture, wishing to experience a more "rustic" and "natural" way of life as was the case after their awakening in Cuiviénen. Oropher who lived in Doriath during the First Age was taken by them as their King and founded the Woodland Realm with this fortress as his capital," Galadriel said wearily, before taking his hand in hers.

In a rare instant of vulnerability, the Lady of Belfalas desired the comfort of her lover.

However, this caused the elves present to eye them with suspicion.

In the eyes of the Elves, Lady Galadriel was still wedded to Lord Celeborn.

"Galadriel, now all shall know of our love," Jon said, amazed.

"I know, I know my Wild Wolf, but I no longer desire to hide our love," Galadriel said resignedly.

"What of King Oropher? Surely he would look down upon us," Jon said, knowing the Silvan king was a dour elf set in the old ways.

"Oropher holds little love for me, and though he bears us no malice, our dealings have been strained at best this shall sour his opinion of me further," Said the Lady of Light, acknowledging that the relationship with the monarch of the forests was not good despite the courtesy they had shown in the past.

"Well, it wouldn't do us good to depart so hastily, but I doubt Oropher will give us aid if your relations are so stormy," Jon said, beginning to believe that it was not a good idea to come to that forest.

"Oropher has a great sense of honour, he may not hold me in high regard, but he will give us aid if we ask for it; I'm certain of it ", Galadriel said.

As they approached, the sentries bowed low though Jon gleaned that most were not pleased by their arrival and merely welcomed them as a courtesy.

"Lady Galadriel, I welcome you to the halls of my Lord," Said the guard; he was a tall elf slightly lesser than Galadriel herself with bright red hair and glittering grey eyes.

"Well, met my Silvan kin, it is an honour to be welcomed into these halls," Galadriel responded courteously.

"No messenger informed us of your visit, my Lady," The guard said.

"That is because we sent no messenger we thought it would be discourteous to pass through these lands and no offer regards to King Oropher," Galadriel said in a solemn tone.

"You keep strange company, my lady, to travel so far from Belfelas in the company of a mortal rather than proper guards," Said the elf glancing at Jon with revulsion.

That was a mistake.

"Do think me lesser than yourself Úmanyar?" Jon asked mockingly.

"Jon ..." Galadriel said, her voice fraught with worry; she knew if these fools insulted Jon further, he would slay them, and King Oropher would have them clapped in irons.

Although Galadriel knows very well that they are earning it.

"We are not accustomed to seeing mortals venturing into the depths of this forest; most do not dare to venture here, and those who do never return", The Elf said coldly, no doubt offended being addressed as such.

"I warn you elf, I do not suffer fools gladly and less so ones of such poor manners," Jon said tacitly threatening the elf.

At that moment, the doors of the fortress were opened, and a new voice greeted them.

"Enough ..." The newcomer said in a calm tone, and they knew it was prince Thranduil.

The son of Oropher wore silvered plate was overlaid with a tracery of flowers and leaves wrought of silver and gold; on his head was a crown of woodland flowers, and in his hand he held a carven staff of oak.

"Prince Thranduil…" Galadriel said, bowing in reverence.

The heir to the Woodland realm bowed in kind before rounding on the guards, his appearance one of fury.

"What is the meaning of your rudeness?" Thranduil asked.

"My Prince, this mortal came as a companion of the Lady Galadriel, which I found most odd his bearing is poor, and he lacks manners befitting of her company", The guard replied, wholly ignorant of whom Jon was.

"This mortal is Jon Herenlóunga, the one whom Sulimo called to Middle-Earth; he is also known as Aemond Targaryen, a dragon rider you fools are lucky to be living," Thranduil said, irritated with the imprudence of his guards.

They could sense Jon's bloodlust and knew he was grappling with the beast within.

Galadriel took Jon's hands into her own and began to sing a song, the same that she had sung nearly a century ago on the shores of Belfalas where their love had first taken root.

Thranduil and the Wood Elves marvelled at the beauty of the tune, and fortunately, it seemed to soothe the savagery of Jon's heart.

"That was a beautiful composition, my Lady," Prince Thranduil said, having a hand on the handle of his sword and looking at Jon concerned.

But Oropher's heir regarded their closeness with suspicion.

"I see that the rumours of your savagery were true, Aemond Targaryen," Prince Thranduil said, gazing at Jon with interest.

"It grieves me so, but I shall not beg your pardon, my lord," He said, glaring at the guard, who seemed to recognise his folly.

"Indeed though, this does little to explain why you have come so far East and in the company of the Lady Galadriel no less," Prince Thranduil said with curiosity in his voice.

"We were merely passing through these Lands on our way to Dorwinion and thought to offer regards to your father", Jon answered, noticing the dark look that crossed the Prince's face.

"This I know, yet it still doesn't reveal why the Lady of Light is accompanying you," said the son of Oropher, arching an eyebrow as he noticed how the Lady of Light countenance had changed.

"I ... I came, of my own free will, I know that for an elf of my age to be carried away by feelings is something strange, but the blood of my mother runs hot in my veins and stirred my desire to see these distant lands that is why I joined Jon on his journey," Galadriel said truthfully.

Just not the whole truth, but Galadriel will put her other motives aside for the moment and certainly won't share them with anyone except Jon when the time comes.

But Thranduil simply nodded.

"In that case, I formally welcome you to the Woodland Realm, come when my Father learns that the Lady of Belfalas and Aemond Targaryen are here, he will prepare a suitable welcome for you ... Join me if you will for wine and songs," Thranduil said jovially.

"Thank you, Prince Thranduil," Galadriel said respectfully, looking at Jon smiling, and he nodded before addressing the elf who insulted him.

"It appears you're indebted to your Prince. If he had arrived a moment later, you would be welcomed by Mandos," Jon snarled.

Jon turned to Galadriel and smiled before extending his arm, and although she was worried for her beloved, she was happy for his companionship.

At that moment, Jon aimed his gaze towards his Gryphon, who was content gazing at the clouds.

"You must stay here; I'm sure King Oropher will be pleased with your visit but don't cause trouble," Jon said, and the gryphon merely squawked in irritation.

"Now, dearest, let us see if the generosity of Oropher is great as they say," Jon said to a smiling Galadriel.

The interior of the Amon Lanc fortress was quite charming, Inside the passages were lit with red torchlight, and the elf-guards sang as they marched along the twisting, crossing, and echoing paths. These were not like those of the goblin-cities: they were smaller, less deep underground, and filled with a cleaner air. It reminded Jon of the Throne Room in King's Landing.

"This fortress is truly remarkable," Jon thought.

"Indeed beloved, I had never thought I would gaze upon these Halls in my life though it seems our woodland kin are not lesser in the fashioning of dwellings," Galadriel said with pride.

"Is it truly your first visit to this Kingdom, my Star of the West?" Jon asked in astonishment.

"Unfortunately, yes, the relationship between Oropher and the Noldor had ever been stormy, and he rarely has dealings with us unless faced with no other choice," Galadriel said something tired to remember that despite the courtesy and respect between them, the King of the Woodland Realm was no friend of hers or of her people.

"Centuries of bitterness and resentment don't fade that easily, it seems", Jon thought.

Jon saw very few elves save the bards and those who greeted them, which was rather odd as this was the chiefest city of the Woodland Realm.

Finally, they came to a set of large oaken doors set with many flowers; on either side stood tall elves of fierce countenance clad in fine leathers, each bore a stout spear and broad shield.

Upon seeing Prince Thranduil, the guards bowed before opening the doors and ushering them into the throne room.

The Hall of the King was a vast cavern with pillars hewed from living stone, and all about them were great trees of beech, oak, chestnut and ash, their wood glimmering with rich browns and the smooth black greys like gleaming leather. The boles of trees were scarlet, and gold for the autumn was upon them.

And there in the centre of the hall sat Oropher on a chair of carven wood. On his head was a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again. In his hand, he held a carven staff of oak.

At that moment, Prince Thranduil kneeled before his Father.

"Father, I have brought our guest as you bid," Said the Prince courteously.

King Oropher nodded though said nothing, merely glancing at them with curiosity before speaking though his tone betrayed uneasiness.

"Welcome to my Kingdom, Lady Galadriel, Daughter of Finarfin and you also Aemond Targaryen," Said the king nodding while his Court was amazed to learn the identity of Galadriel's companion.

"I thank you for receiving us, King Oropher", Jon said, as he and Galadriel bowed before the Woodland Lord.

"Lady Galadriel, it is odd to see you so far from Belfalas we have received no herald announcing your visit," King Oropher said in an icy tone without smiling.

"I beg your pardon Oropher for the intrusion we merely wished to offer our regards ere we venture to Dorwinion," Galadriel said with her voice loaded with confidence and solemnity.

"Dorwinion?" King Oropher asked curiously, and Jon stepped forward.

"Yes, King Elendil has entrusted me with renewing our oaths of loyalty with the men of Dorwinion, and it seems we have scarce time as the shadow of Sauron has grown mighty again," Jon replied grimly, and at the mention of Sauron, the Hall of Oropher was blackened.

"Yes, ever my spies speak of grim tidings from those Dark Lands, and I fear war may be upon us sooner than we would like," King Oropher said grimly.

"Aye, my lord was resolute that the men of the Vinter court not be seduced by the powers of the Mordor ", Jon said.

"And I accompanied Jon for want of seeing these far Eastern lands. I know that being carried away by such a foolish passion at my age is rather queer, but the heart often rules the mind, "Galadriel chirped.

Something that did not go unnoticed by the king nor his heir but fortunately neither challenged them further.

"And yet you have journeyed this far without proper guard Elendil must hold you in high regard, Aemond Targaryen," King Oropher responded.

"Aye, I'm fierce as a dragon and just as dour," Jon said dryly, perceiving his news gifts were a boon and a curse in equal measure.

"Aye, it seems so," Prince Thranduil said without humour, remembering the cruel japes Jon had traded with the guard; he acted akin to a beast then hard and strong and unmoving.

"Our kingdom has long had dealings with the Vinter lords; in fact, we will be sending a delegation to trade with them you may accompany them as the road to Dorwinion is not without its perils, "King Oropher said with sudden kindness.

"Thank you for your kindness King Oropher; we will be honoured to accompany your emissaries," Galadriel said before bowing.

"They will leave in three days until then, you shall remain here as guests of honour, my Lady, I shall have rooms prepared, and tonight we hold a feast in celebration of the friendship between our kin," The King said, gesturing to his servants who nodded.

"We are honoured by your kindness King Oropher," Jon said, bowing.

"Now, I'm certain you are weary from your long journey, so please follow my servants, and they shall guide you to your chambers", Said the King returning to his throne.

"I thank you for your generosity King Oropher in regards to our baggage; it seems that foolish Gryphon has left it in the valley below," Jon said, wholly displeased with the damnable bird.

This piqued the interest of Galadriel as well as the King and his heir.

"And how do you know this Aemond Targaryen?" King Oropher asked.

"I sensed that foolish bird has gone hunting and had little care for our belongings," Jon said, furious at the gryphon's insolence.

Seemingly understanding that the Elves of the Forest Kingdom will not praise him as much as their Western relatives, the haughty animal was not interested in them.

And although the gryphon agreed to stay in the Forest, he would not remain in Amon Lanc and rid itself of the unnecessary burden.

Galadriel groaned in misery that beast would need to be taught humility.

Jon and Galadriel were accompanied to their rooms by servants, and to their sadness, they were escorted to separate chambers but knew their previous showing of affection would cause rumours to spread among the courts of the Elves.

However, a messenger summoned them to the King's banquet just a few hours later, and they elected to go arm in arm.

They entered the chamber arm in arm and saw at the head of a long line of feasters sat Oropher with a crown of leaves upon his golden hair, The elvish folk were passing bowls from hand to hand and across the fires, and some were harping, and many were singing. Their gloaming hair was twined with flowers; green and white gems glinted on their collars and their belts, and their faces and their songs were filled with mirth. Loud and clear and fair were those songs, but the hall fell silent when Jon and Galadriel presented themselves.

The Lady of Light was dressed in a white gown though the dress was incomparably bolder as it left one leg bare and clung to her curves. Above her brow, her head was covered with a cap of silver lace netted with small gems, glittering white; but her soft white raiment had no ornament save a girdle of leaves wrought in silver.

The incomparably beautiful elf wore her golden hair down, and it seemed to flow with the light of moon and sun.

All the members of the Court gazed raptly at Galadriel as if she were the most beautiful sight they had ever seen.

Jon, for his part, was grappling with his desire; he knew in his heart that Galadriel was teasing him for her own ends.

And the melodious laugh that filled his mind was proof of that, though Jon knew he would claim her before the journies end.

Jon, for his part, was wearing the tunic his beloved Lawlen had stitched for him.

The two walked arm in arm into the Great Hall of the Forest Kingdom, and Jon could perceive the enmity bore by these elves.

But that only amused Jon and Galadriel as the young Targaryen enjoyed knowing that he possessed the love of the most beautiful and wise of the Noldor.

After many hours of feasting and dancing, the servants led them to the King's private chambers, a spacious hall decorated with the pelts of many beasts and at the centre was a large oaken table where Oropher and Thranduil sat. It was evident that the king wished to converse with them away from the inquisitive eyes of his subjects; a swift glance to Galadriel showed she was of the same mind.

"Your fortress is splendid, King Oropher. I have spent many years among the artisans of the Dwarves and can heartily say this is stonework worthy of a master," Said Jon admiring the abode of the Elf King.

"I thank you for your kind words, Jon; we have heard of your interest in the arts of smithing and the building of fortresses, As well as the skill you possess in those arts to receive such praise from someone so skilled is a great honour, "Oropher said with a smile.

"Though it seems your court is somewhat meagre for so prosperous a kingdom," Lady Galadriel said.

At that moment, the gaze of the King and the Prince darkened.

"Yes, alas, the shadow on the East had grown in might and steadily pressing on our boarders as, so we shall withdraw northward beyond the Gladden Fields," Oropher said before taking a sip of wine.

"Well, we are alone ..." King Oropher said after a few moments.

"It's rather queer that we must have meet under such secrecy, King Oropher", Galadriel replied before taking a sip of wine though she quickly set the cup down.

"Do you know this brew, my lady?" King Oropher asked with a smile.

"This wine is from Dorwinion," Galadriel said apprehensively.

"Indeed, it's called Essence of the Moon, and it's one of the strongest spirits brewed in Dorwinion," Said the King with a smile.

"Perhaps you should imbibe a little, my Star of the West," Jon thought, amused, but those thoughts were swiftly quashed when he felt the ire of his beloved.

"I apologise, beloved; it was a harmless jape", Jon responded, annoyed.

"For your sake, I hope so," Galadriel said haughtily.

Jon was especially intrigued by this wine and poured himself a goblet.

"Are you certain that is wise, Jon? Essence of the Moon is strong enough that a single glass is plenty to addle the minds of Elves," Prince Thranduil questioned, watching Jon with amusement.

Jon merely smiled and drank the goblet in one gulp. The wine was languorous and heady on the tongue; however, it was not unpleasant, and soon he was struck by a pleasantly warm sensation that he hadn't felt in many years.

For a few moments, Jon's mind was clouded by drink, but it soon faded, and the elves were gazing at him with curiosity.

"So, how do you find the spirits of the Vinter Court?" Prince Thranduil asked.

"The wine is pleasant, but it seems I shall not take pleasure from imbibing strong spirits," Jon snarled in displeasure.

"Oh, Jon," Galadriel said with a wicked smile.

"That is quite remarkable; very few among my kin can drink such a quantity as still have their wits", King Oropher said, intrigued.

"I'm not a common man King Oropher," Jon said, smiling with satisfaction.

"I see that King Elendil spoke truly you Westerosi are a most lively folk," Said the King smiling.

"Aye, they are truly wondrous", Galadriel said as she looked at Jon lovingly.

Which was noticed by Thranduil.

"Your eyes are changed, my Lady," blurted the Prince, startling Galadriel as she hadn't believed Thranduil would notice.

It is said that through the eyes, the real essence of someone can be observed and that for the elves is very true since in their eyes you can perceive the power of their spirit, and this, in turn, is bound to another through marriage and any respectable elf would choose to release their own soul to The Rooms of Command before succumbing to such temptations.


"Although I am an exception", Galadriel thought sadly.

However, when her marriage to Celeborn was annulled, the dissolution of the bond had changed her spirit; it was only natural that someone would notice though she had hoped it wouldn't be an elf.

"Her marriage to Lord Celeborn was annulled", Prince Thranduil muttered in disbelief, and a murmur of surprise was heard coming from the guards as the annulment of this marriage was the second in the history of Arda.

"It was his choice. Celeborn shall not depart those halls until the end of Arda," Galadriel said with pain in her voice.

"How is that possible?" Asked King Oropher in horror, of course, he resented the intrusions of Celeborn and Galadriel into Lórien. But he wished no ill upon him, for Celeborn was ever a friend and ally of his people.

Oropher could not imagine how one of the mightiest elves in Middle-earth would be so despoiled by the enemy that he would dwell in the Halls of the Doosman unto the ending of the world.

"How did such a misfortune befall him?" Asked King Oropher in dismay.

"Sauron," Jon said with terrible hatred in his voice.

"Jon ..." Galadriel said tenderly, laying her hand on his, hoping to calm her wild wolf.

"I apologise," Jon replied, annoyed with himself as he inadvertently caressed Galadriel's gentle and soft hands; the gesture aroused the curiosity of the elves in the room who were already beginning to suspect The bond between Jon and Galadriel went far beyond camaraderie and friendship.

"It was the spear of Sauron, a weapon so terrible and evil that none save the foulest of creatures could hope to wield it; The Black Easterling pierced Celeborns heart and in doing so corrupted his Fëa so thoroughly that he was as one of the nine and so he thought it best to annul our marriage to spare me from such torment," Galadriel said though her voice was wracked with grief.

Oropher said nothing for many moments until, at last, he spoke in a hushed whisper, "And what has become of that foul weapon was it not found among the ruin of the field?" Oropher queried.

"We searched for many hours, but alas, it seemed that the enemy claimed it as a prize, and we haven't heard anything regarding it since," Jon responded.

"I am grieved for your loss, my Lady though we had not seen eye to eye. I held Celeborn in highest esteem, and the West shall feel his loss keenly for many ages to come," King Oropher said with genuine compassion in his voice.

"Thank you for your kind words Oropher," Galadriel said wistfully.

Seeing his beloved Galadriel suffering anew for the loss of Lord Celeborn, Jon felt guilt knowing that he was responsible for the suffering of his beloved Galadriel as well as that of Celebrian would haunt him for the rest of his days, he was certain.

It was plain that they felt a great love, but this was marred by grief, and Oropher knew in his heart that the death of Celeborn shall haunt them for many ages.

And although their love defied all tradition, he had scarce room to judge them, and it would matter little if he did. Jon was a mortal man, and though he was longer lived than most, he too would perish, leaving Galadriel to dwell in her grief unto the ending of the world.

The suffering of the Lady of Belfalas is not over yet, even if there are still a few centuries until that time comes.

"It seems to me that it is time to change the topic of conversation," Thranduil said in a solemn voice.

"I would greatly appreciate it, Prince Thranduil," Galadriel said with a sad smile.

Oropher spoke again. "So Elendil wishes for you to judge the loyalties of the Vinter court?."

"Aye, ever the shadow of the east growing and I fear we must march to war sooner than we should like. "Jon said gravely, and King Oropher nodded.

"Caution is necessary when it comes to Sauron, although it seems to me that this time it will not be necessary. Nowhere are there any men so friendly to us as the Men of Dorwinion. They are good folk, the Vinters. Vine Regent Hawain rules them, He is a strong king, and his realm reaches far south and east of Caras Sant," King Oropher said with a friendly smile.

"Thank you, my Lord. I greatly desire to see these lands and procure several barrels of their wine for Durin," said Jon remembering his friend's taste for alcoholic beverages.

"It is rather queer that you dwelt among the Longbeards for so long it sounds horrid," Prince Thranduil said dispassionately as if the mere thought caused him pain.

"Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel are of the same mind, but I shared a great many interests with the Dwarves," Said Jon giving little thought to the matter.

"Indeed, the fashioning of metals and stonework if I heard rightly," Prince Thranduil replied.

"Yes, although I confess that it is not easy to endure the haughtiness and stubbornness of the Dwarves, yet you shall never find more loyal friends, Prince Thranduil," Said Jon, pleased of his friendship.

"You must forgive me if I don't share your fondness for Dwarves," Prince Thranduil said dryly. For a few moments, Jon did not understand the change in the Prince's mood until he remembered that despite his youthful appearance, Thranduil had spent his early life in Menegroth and was present when the city was sacked by the Dwarves of Nogrod.

"I can understand that you hold little love for the Dwarves Prince Thranduil, but despite their stubborn character and deplorable manners, they are honourable friends and allies; do not judge them so harshly," Jon said softly.

Thranduil didn't respond, but after a few moments, he gave a slight nod.

"I can see that you have a great friendship with the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm, just as the rumours have said", King Oropher said.

"Yes, I have been a guest, friend and student of those Dwarves for half a century, and though my travels shall take me far from those halls, a piece of my heart shall ever reside in that mountain," Jon replied with a proud smile.

"Jon…" Galadriel said with a warm smile.

Seeing the Lady of Light smile was a sight to behold, filling the chamber with a pleasant warmth as if spring had come again such was the love Galadriel had for this man.

"It seems that fate desires the Third Union of Elves and Men By Erú; what shall their children be like?" Oropher thought.

Oropher hadn't forgotten that the young emissary possessed magics wholly unknown to his people to withstand fire more hardily than either Elves or Dwarves; this would have been a great boon in the wars against the Balrogs and dragons in his heart Oropher knew that Jon Snow and his children would shape the later Ages.

"Well, this has been a pleasant conversation, but perhaps we should retire for the night," Oropher said before taking another sip of wine and motioning for the servants to clear the table.

Later Jon and Galadriel were led to their rooms by the servants, and to their dismay, they were forced to sleep in separate chambers.

He would have thought the expression of Galadriel's face was amusing had he not become so accustomed to sharing his bed with her.

Jon knew that if they shared their chambers, rumours would spread among the servants, and none were so nosey as Silvan elves; it was even more troublesome as they would be travelling with these elves for several months on the road and could ill afford to be so indiscreet with their affections.

It would be a difficult few months for him and Galadriel, but they had no choice but to contain their love unless Jon had never tried to do this himself, but perhaps he could learn to exchange his thoughts with Galadriel.

Ósanwë, Galadriel used that art continually, Jon had spoken to her in this way many times but never by his own hand, but his beloved uses her knowledge with such mastery that it forms a short path for both of them to exchange their thoughts, and later she closes it when she has no need of it. However, Lord Elrond had told him that since he possessed the power of foresight, there was a good chance he could learn ósanwë as well.

Although to master this art would be a great undertaking but to do so would mean that he and Galadriel could share their thoughts and desires to be as one a rather appealing thought if he were truthful with himself.

However, Jon knew that this would be too ambitious and fanciful, to begin with, the only mortal who was known to have learned the art was Elrond, though this was rather unique being the son of Eärendil and Elwing meant he was more akin to the elves than men indeed it was said that Elrond was so masterful in the arts of the mind he could read the hearts and desires of men.

While in the words of Lord Manwë, Jon had scant traces of elven blood, for though he was a descendant of Melian yet, he possessed his own magics as well in his veins flowed the blood of the freehold and the First Men, and perhaps that was enough to master such an art.

But in his heart, Jon had a queer feeling, one that had troubled him since he departed Imladris; perhaps in these far eastern lands, he would come to understand the nature of his magic.

Jon smiled; all this talk of magic and ancient arts reminded him of Dany, his beloved Dany, who had wept in delight when she was given Meraxes.

Just remembering the face of his dear aunt as she fed the hatchling was something he shan't forget for the rest of his days; it was akin to a mother nurturing her child.

His grandmother had once told him that dragons possessed their own magic, although, at the time, Jon had paid her no mind; but perhaps he should speak with her when he returns.

Soon, his mind was drawn to Vhagar, who was surely flying south the hunt the Oliphaunts or perhaps she was nesting in her lair high above the peaks of Caradhras.

"Vhagar, how I wish you could have accompanied me to see these fair lands," Jon thought, longing to see his dragon.

But back to his dilemma, Jon knew very little of Ósanwe as Elrond had spoken little on the subject, and he saw no need to question the elven lord on the matter; however, it seems he had found the proper incentive to learn which was rather amusing as it was the love of a woman that had led him to compose the Song of Eärendil.

And now, that desire had beguiled him once more; there is little doubt that his love for women has led to many strange and incredible things.

With those thoughts in mind, Jon drained another goblet of wine and doused the hearth before crawling into bed and falling into a dreamless sleep.

After three days of rest, they bid Oropher farewell and departed the Greenwood in the company of a dozen elves; their new companions were strangely armed for a mere diplomatic sortie though it seems the King valued the safety of his wine greatly.

"The Silvan are not similar to our kin in the West, my beloved wolf; they are more dangerous and less wise," Galadriel said with her thoughts as she marched beside him. Both mounted on horseback.

"Aye, it would seem so", Jon responded as he eyed his new companions.

They were queerly armed with shields of oak and ash, their spears of iron and their bows of beech; none among them wore mail or plate preferring fine leathers.

"Their armament is inferior to that of the Noldor and the Dwarves," Jon thought, worried about these Elves as they were nearest to Mordor and were too few to defend these lands.

"I share your concern Jon, but they have little love for my people and the culture of the West; they refuse to learn the ways of Aulë; instead, they are content to use what the forest provides," Galadriel said darkly.

"If so, I feel that something terrible awaits the Wood Elves unless they leave behind that aversion for the culture of Beleriand," Jon thought, perceiving a shadow over those Elves.

The journey to Dorwinion was uneventful though as they travelled Eastward, the great forest gave way to far green country whose stars were far queerer than those of the West.

And although Jon and Galadriel felt safe among the Silvan Elves, alas, they had little time to themselves, save for the few times they snuck away to lay upon the grass and gaze at the clouds.

Jon quickly discerned that while the Wood Elves held no love for the Noldor, they held Galadriel in highest regard; although the same couldn't be said for him, while the Silvan weren't unfriendly, they were wary of him and spoke as little as could be helped without appearing rude.

"It seems that they do not know how to deal with Men," Jon thought in vexation, particularly when Galadriel flashed him a mischievous smile.

"Take heart, my Star of the West. I shall reward your cheek when we arrive ", Jon said, knowing Galadriel could discern his thoughts, and he was rewarded by the Lady of Edhellond turning scarlet.

But after several weeks of travelling, the lands around him began to change grasslands gave way to arid plains with little greenery.

"It is normal, as we get closer to Rhun, the land will be arid; however, Dorwinion is green and fertile since it is nourished by the Celduin and to the northwest by the Sea of Rhun," said one of the wood elves in a strange moment of kindness.

"I am anxious to arrive and see the beauty of these lands for myself", Jon thought, growing weary of the ardent heat and being parted from Galadriel for so long.

After many days of hard riding, the Celduin river became visible, so they decided to follow it, and soon the arid lands gave way to many well-tilled vineyards, and in the distance, they saw a great city of white marble.

However, Jon's joy was stifled by feelings of dread.

"The shadow is near," Galadriel said darkly, worrying the others.

"Galadriel? what do your elf eyes see?" Jon questioned.

"The City is being raided," Galadriel said after a moment, and the elves nodded, noticing great plums of smoke rising in the distance.

"They are surely bandits, no doubt gathered by the savage men of these lands," One of the elves said in disgust as he readied his dagger.

"We must aid them," Jon said solemnly.

"I'm of a mind with you, but first we must send scouts," Said the leader of the caravan, who gestured to two Sylvan elf women; both were tall as young trees, lithe and robust, with a bow they sped off towards the city hoping to glean the intentions of the enemy.

At that moment, Jon rode towards Galadriel, removed his dragon hide cloak, and draped it about the shoulders of her shoulder.

"Jon?" She asked, surprised by the noble gesture of her love; it was his greatest protection as his mithril was left in Imladris.

"Do not take it off at any time, my Star, I cannot bear the thought of you hurt ", Jon said lovingly, adjusting the cloak before laying a kiss upon her hand.

"You are reckless, my Wild Wolf, by the Valar, do not be so foolish you may heal more swiftly than others, but I don't wish to see you hurt," Galadriel said in a reproachful tone, ready to return his cloak to Jon but he stopped her.

"I am not my beloved, but I will fight better knowing that you will be safe," Jon replied reproachfully, and the fierceness of his gaze quieted any rebuttal she may have had.

"Please, take care of yourself, my beloved foolish wolf," Galadriel said resigned; Jon nodded and smiled.

Though they cursed their companions as they could not freely show their love in these moments of peril.

The Lady of Belfalas drew her spear from among her things and marched to battle.

The Wood Elves seemed eager for battle brandishing their weapons and chanting songs of war, but Jon had no desire to risk his beloved's life in a foolhardy scheme.

"Why must this happen no matter where I go? .. I merely desired an untroubled journey with you," Jon thought angrily to see that his peaceful excursion with his beloved had been despoiled by another foul battle.

"Don't fret, my wolf; the fault doesn't lay with you rather those Eastern savages," Galadriel said gently, hoping to ease his distress.

"Thank you for your words, my beloved, yet we must join the fray once again," Jon thought in disgust.

"Oh, my dear fool, you must not misplace hope so swiftly," Galadriel said, amused, though she was irritated by his melancholy.

"Dorwinion has a mighty army, and though they are few in number, they ought no difficulty dealing with the tribes of Rhûn," Said one of the wood elves as he readied for his companions to return.

Jon merely nodded, but his heart was troubled; something sinister was afoot, and he thought only of their next efforts.

They were not prepared for a battle; although the forest elves cared little for talk of retreat, there was no doubt that they were fierce warriors but not very wise, and though they were far from the city, Jon could perceive the redolence of charred flesh and blood upon the wind.

After several minutes the two scouts had returned.

"Tarya, Verya ... What happened?" Queried Orelion, leader of the caravan.

"It is a siege by the Easterlings; they bear iron swords and cruel axes though we saw no cavarly or chariots", replied the black-haired elf, Tarya.

"They have some siege engines, they try to destroy the walls ... They are about to succeed", Verya seconded.

"How many?" Jon asked commandingly, but the elves paid him no heed, and Jon snarled in a fury, startling them all.

"Answer quickly ..." Orelion said without looking at Jon.

"At least four thousand men," Verya replied immediately.

"And am I to assume that Dorwinion has fewer soldiers?" Jon asked, looking at Orelion.

"Yes, half of the invaders ... At the most," the elf replied.

"Fantastic ..." Jon said scornfully until he felt the soft hands of Galadriel caress his own.

"Don't despair, Jon.. all is not lost?" Said a smiling Galadriel.

"You are right, my Lady, but we are too few to do them any great harm; perhaps we can aid the survivors in escaping if we think of a reliable plan," Jon said with one hand on the chin.

Nobody said anything for a few moments accepting Jon's argument, and they began to debate how to aid the Dorwinions till Jon suddenly felt something large approaching, a presence that he had not felt since departing Khazad-dûm lo those many months ago, and he turned his gaze skyward searching for the familiar shape.

Noticing Jon's look of surprise, a curious Galadriel began to probe her mind and let out a groan of wonderment upon learning why Jon was gazing at the sky.

The wood elves just looked intrigued at the reactions of their king's guests and were about to ask what was happening when they heard a great clamour of sound drawing near. At first, it was a noise like a hurricane coming from the West, and the pine trees were creaking and cracking in the wind.

Whatever caused that ... It was huge, at that moment Jon began to walk away from everyone.

"When she arrives, do not attack her, they will only enrage her, and if that happens, she will reduce you all to kindling, so stay here while I go and greet her," Jon said sternly before walking towards the roaring winds.

"What is your companion talking about? Who is coming here?" Orelion asked, intrigued, but Galadriel did not answer and looked at Jon with rapt attention.

"Orelion, Mira by the Valar look", Vera said, gazing up at the sky, her expression one of horror.

Orelion did as she bid him and turned his eyes skyward; he could see a large shadow nearing them growing far larger every moment until his eyes grew in horror when he discerned what the shape was.

A dragon was thundering towards them on swift wings.

Instantly the elves drew their weapons but saw that neither Jon nor Lady Galadriel seemed alarmed by the beast coming towards them, which bewildered them until they remembered the rumours about Jon Snow and his family they were dragon lords supposedly and rode the beast as mounts.

"I did not know that Aemond Targaryen had called his dragon," Orelion said accusingly.

"I didn't", Jon's responded, not turning to face the terrified elf.

"The dragon apparently followed him from Khazad-dûm ... Or mayhap she followed his scent; we truly have no explanation as to how and why that dragon came to these distant domains, but we will know when it arrives," Galadriel said, eager to look upon a dragon of House Targaryen.

With those words in mind, the Wood Elves awaited the arrival of the Dragon though they had yet to lay down their weapons, not wholly trusting such a creature as the dragons of Morgoth were ever an enemy of their people.

Now one of those beasts was coming towards them, and now they did not know if they should flee or fight; in any case, they could only hope that the rumours were true and that Jon Snow had tamed that beast.

The elves were left breathless when they saw the imposing winged beast that loomed over them. It was immense, almost as half as high as Amon Lanc, with scales the colour of beaten bronze and eyes as bright as emeralds; The elves raised their bows ready to fire, and dragon gazed at them for a moment before she let out something akin to a snort of disdain which irritated the Wood Elves.

Apparently, the dragon thought little of them and their arrows.

Jon Snow, for his part, glanced at the beast with reproach and calmly approached it as if it were just a pet and caressed her large snout.

"I told you to remain in Khazad-dûm Vhagar. So why did you follow me here?" Jon asked while still stroking his dragon.

The dragon, for her part, just growled, and Jon raised an eyebrow.

"I summoned you here?" The young Targaryen asked, confused.

"How could I have summoned her when we were separated by many leagues?" Jon wondered in surprise and soon understood.

He had desired Vhagar's company in Amon Lanc.

"Did you hear my thoughts in Amon Lanc?" Jon asked in disbelief.

The dragon's response was only a nod, much to the bewilderment of the elves who thought dragons mere beasts.

"Lady Galadriel, can your companion speak to the beast?" Orelion asked, approaching the Lady of Belfalas, who was observing the meeting between her love and her dragon with great curiosity.

Hearing that foolish elf refer to her as a mere beast, Vhagar shot him a look of contempt and roared in loudly, causing Orleion to fall on his backside while his companions notched their arrows, but Galadriel bid them sheathe their weapons.

"Stop, the dragon is not our enemy; it is fierce and remarkably proud, it likewise has a temperament as fierce as that of its rider, so if you want to continue living, I remind you of what Jon already told you do not provoke her as for your question they cannot speak as you or I would, but she understands the tongues of men and elves, " Galadriel stated with authority. She then approached Vhagar, who just looked suspiciously at the elf nearing her, but when she was about to demand the elf leave, she could see her rider taking the elf by the hands and bringing her closer to her snout.

Despite being agitated that this strange elf did not seem frightened by her magnificence, Vhagar had no desire to quarrel with her rider, so grudgingly, she allowed herself to be caressed by that elf dressed in white.

"It seems that Vhagar heard my calls from Greenwood and came here following my scent," Jon said with surprise as he wouldn't have thought his bond with Vhagar was that strong.

And it is that he still remembered the last time he thought of Vhagar when they were about to leave Amon Lanc, and he was meditating on his magic. He would not have believed it possible that Vhagar could hear him from such distances, but it seems that he was wrong.

"I must admit the enormity of your dragon is rather imposing, beloved", Galadriel said while continuing to stroke Vhagar snout.

The proud dragon snorted in appreciation; this strange elf seemed to recognise her greatness, which greatly pleased her.

"It seems that my companion likes you, my Lady", Jon said tiredly, for the pride of his dragon seemed to rival that of his Gryphon while Galadriel laughed in amusement.

"Good to know Aemon for my part. I am honoured to be the first among my people to consider a dragon as an ally and not an enemy," Galadriel said, still caressing Vhagar's head and gazing at Jon lustfully, knowing that the wood elves were too frightened to approach them.

Oh, how she missed the healing embrace of her beloved at night, his loving caresses and waking in his arms.

Oooh, although she was delighted to see these lands, she was desperate to go back to sleep with her beloved Wolf and feel his warmth.

"No, I have no food, and I don't expect my companions do either," Jon said; she grimaced and blew smoke and soot on her rider, causing Jon to cough and curse while Vhagar growled in such a way that it reminded everyone of a mocking laugh.

At that moment, the Elves looked at each other in disbelief.

Did they truly have to fear this beast? Was the thought of the elves present as they lowered their bows.

"Don't be insolent, you dull-witted lizard; I don't see you for months. And this is your treatment? Certainly, your manners and sense are both lacking," Jon replied, irritated with the she-dragon while Galadriel chortled in amusement.

Vhagar took offence at Jon's remark and roared in annoyance.

"I already told you that I couldn't bring you to Imladris with me; you would have frightened his household", Jon barked, and Vhagar again blew soot and smoke in his direction.

"It will do us little good to argue, But your arrival is timely; I beg your aid," Jon said, gazing at Vhagar with a haunting smile that caused Galadriel to stare at him in wonder.

"Do you desire to ride to war, my companion?" Jon asked, stroking Vhagar and the dragon stared at him as she recalled the days of her youth.

Memories in which she was ridden by her first rider, Visenya, together they had earned glory by conquering an entire continent striving in battles where she and her brothers burned a whole field of soldiers or flew to the top of a fortress in the clouds to force a Queen and her young son to surrender.

After Visenya's death, Vhagar accepted other riders as she did not wish to remain alone. Still, they all disappointed her; none were as mighty nor wise as her beloved Visenya, and they often forced her to settle their petty squabbles, slaying her kin in the process.

But now, she had been granted another chance, a rider one who was akin to Viseyna in her youth.

With that new resolve, Vhagar roared like a clap of thunder and bent her neck, allowing Jon to mount her.

"I will take that as a yes companion .." Jon said excitedly, mounting Vhagar before the astonished elves who saw a mere man mount a dragon as if it were a horse though the most affected was Galadriel her beloved was akin to a mighty lord though he had never desired such for himself content to be a knight in Elendils court. Yet, her wild wolf had become one of the mightiest Lords in the history of Middle-Earth.

While Galadriel was almost lost in thought, Jon smiled at the expression of his beloved and resolved to bring her out of her reverie.

"Accompany me, my Lady ..." Jon said, extending his hand to a surprised Galadriel.

"Jon?" Asked Galadriel in astonishment.

"This is the first time that Vhagar and I fly in battle come with us; nothing harm shall befall you. You have my word, although it would be best if you keep my cloak on," Jon said, amused while Vhagar growled in exasperation.

Galadriel, delighted to become the first among all elves to ride a dragon, nodded and, with a dazzling smile, took Jon by his hand, and he placed her in front of him as the Wood Elves approached them.

"Lady Galadriel, what are you doing?" Asked Tenya, one of the scout elves.

"My Lady Galadriel does not seem to me that this is something sensible," Orelion said, worried but seeing him approach Vhagar growled a warning.

"All is well, Orelion; no harm shall befall us, right Jon?" Galadriel asked, eager to ride Vhagar.

"I swear on my honour still we must be careful this shall not be like riding the Gryphon," Jon said, but at that moment, Vhagar was wroth at the mention of that lesser animal she would see to it that Jon rode her for the rest of his days.

"Calm yourself, Vhagar ... Now listen to me; we will not waste time. I shall destroy the siege engines that should cause a great disorder among the Easterlings as they never expect a dragon to attack them; you must go there and inform the soldiers of Dorwinion that we are not their enemies," Jon said.

"I do not think that is a dilemma; the sight of a dragon is a terrifying image for all the" Children of Ilúvatar I imagine the Dorwinion would rather flee than fight," Oreilon said.

"We must move swiftly. I fear the city shall not resist them much longer," Jon said, then Jon raised his horn and blew. Loud the challenge rang and bellowed, like the shout of many throats, and at that moment, Vhagar thundered into the sky eager for battle.

The soldiers of Dorwinion and the Easterlings fought before the walls of the city; it was a fierce melee no quarter asked or given, but for the Easterlings, this city would be the greatest of prizes, the Eastern tribes customarily did not have the knowledge to build siege engines, and the iron of their swords was inferior. Moreover, their ancestors had tried to conquer and plunder the Lands of the West for centuries. Still, after many defeats, their Lords were reduced to squabblings tribesmen bartering what little they had for a horrid life.

But that had changed; their "God-King" had returned and dispatched emissaries bearing gifts of iron and stone, soon they were numerous enough to take the cities of the West, beginning with the ones closest to their lands, victory was near, and yet the fools fought on lead by a group of strange dwarves. Still, it mattered little the City would be theirs, all their gold and wine would lastly be taken, then they would slay the men, the women would be taken as thralls and harlots, and the children would be taken and sold beyond the Great Sea of Rhûn.

All was well, and then a horn sounded like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains.

All the soldiers in the battle were surprised to hear the shrill sound of a war horn; its sound was unlike any that had ever been heard in those lands till suddenly they were ravaged by fire.

A green blaze swept through the siege engines one by one, scorching thousands of men who screamed in terror as the gold of their armour ran as molten rivers and the flesh stripped from their bones.

Thousands of screams from both sides were heard when they saw the source of that strange torrent of bright green fire, a dark bronze coloured dragon, a dragon like those that fought alongside their ancestors centuries ago, now attacking them? or was it attacking those worthless Westerners?

However, when the siege engines were reduced to ashes and everything was clear, forcing them to retreat to escape the infernal emerald flames, although many did not and were roasted alive within their armour.

It was then that the dragon landed in front of the shattered gates, and a young man with dark hair and an elf with golden tresses slid from its back.

The young man carried a Warhammer that shone of gold while the elf held a glittering spear pale as ice; after a moment, the young man stepped forward and spoke.

"This City is protected by the Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor, under the authority of Elendil Great King of all Dunedain leave now, and your lives will be spared if you stay,"

The dragon roared with such fury that the walls of the city shook, and they recoiled in scorn of its rider and fear of the dragons' ire.

Galadriel was euphoric; never in her entire existence had she felt that way; she had never flown upon the Great Eagels, so her first experience had occurred with Jon's Gryphon, and it was something she would never forget.

The wind in her face, being freed from the earth and watching everything from the heavens. She had never felt so free as when she flew with the gryphon but to fly on a dragon.

It was something completely different, very different, so much so despite her age and wisdom, Galadriel cried out in joy; never in all her long years had she thought she would ride a dragon who were ever the enemies of her people, but it seems fate would grant her many more blessings.

The feeling of freedom, of power, was intoxicating; it couldn't be compared to flying on the Gryphon; how must Jon's ancestors felt in their lost realm of Valyria?

However, the joy of the flight was softened when they saw the terrible sight that lay before them; the walls of the City were broken in many places, and all about the field lay the dead and dying while carrion birds circled overhead eager for this hearty feast.

The Soldiers of Dorwinion were quite a sight to behold clad in silvered plate and mail; under this, they wore tunics of fine purple cloth, each bearing the sigil of the Vinter court three leaves of gold interwoven on a field of purple and in the centre a bushel of golden grapes.

While their enemies were clad in lamellar armour and under this, they wore bright tunics of rough spun wool, most carried cruel curved axes and glittering scimitars while others brandished maces.

However, the most peculiar thing was not the opposing armies but that alongside the Vinter soldiers, there was also a small army of Dwarves gazing at Jon's dragon in astonishment and fear; the Dwarves were brawny and sturdy with great forked golden beards and manes of thick golden-blonde hair each wielded a cruelly spiked axe and wore a suit of richly gilded scales that hung to their knees. Their helms were of steel and gold, and they were shod with steel.

Though there was little time to ponder the attire of these strange dwarves, before them stood the remaining Easterlings who had yet to depart; she thought perhaps they would be foolish enough to continue this siege if so, she was prepared to slay them like the savages they were.

For a few moments, the battlefield was silent except for the screams of those who had been burned by dragons fire; however, an Easterling stepped forward and removed his helm, revealing a man of dark visage with beetle black eyes and countless scars.

He spat on the ground, an act followed by almost all the soldiers at his side, yet the youngest among them seemed eager to flee the field, but the cruel looking Easterling drew his scimitar and, with a bellow of rage, charged towards Jon followed by a dozen men.

Apparently, the dragon did not scare them to Jon and Galadriel's bewilderment.

"It seems the men of the East are most foolhardy," Jon said, lamenting their foolishness, then he gestured to Vhagar.

Vhagar nodded and stepped forward, shielding Galadriel from any foolhardy Easterling that hoped to do her harm.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! JON, TELL YOUR DRAGON TO RELEASE ME?!" Galadriel shouted in a fury.

But to her anger, Jon scorned her and charged at the Easterlings, his eyes alight with the fury of his wolf blood.

Galadriel had fought many wars and slain many men she knew of Jon's vigour and might as a warrior. But nothing, not even her thousands of years of existence on Arda, prepared her for the ferocity of her beloved.

Despite being furious at Jon for treating her like a hapless maiden, Galadriel watched her beloved fell towards the Easterlings with a bestial roar none could withstand the fury of Ghal-Maraz as the mighty hammer shivered bone to powder with every swing.

Galadriel knew that her love was a mighty warrior, but this defied everything she knew about her beloved wolf; he was far mightier than she remembered, though she had not seen him fight in many years but remembered the words Glorfindel spoke to the council when he had concluded training Arya.

"The Westerosi are peculiar people and determined learners of all those I have trained throughout my life, it seems to me that they are among some of the most talented, Arya for example, is the most determined, Loras the most agile, Robar the most cunning and Jon, well Jon is without a doubt the most powerful of the four. But since he returned from the Rooms of Command, he has acquired a strange passion for fighting, but there is something else, something dark lives in his soul, the savagery that I cannot understand. My heart tells me that he will become the fiercest warrior Arda has ever known, although he shall wait many long years before that comes to pass," Glorfindel said to all the kings.

Jon's journey to tame his savage spirit is by no means over, but he is already one of the fiercest and most skilled warriors she has seen in her long life; she can't help but wonder what else he may accomplish?

Unfortunately, one of the Easterlings shot a barbed arrow aimed at her heart; fortunately, the cloak of dragon hide deflected it, but the might of the blow knocked her to the ground.

"GALADRIEL!" Jon yelled when he saw her on the ground.

The noble elf saw Jon rushing to her aid, but at that moment, the Easterlings pierced Jon with many black-feathered arrows, and he fell to the ground in a heap.

Seeing her love wounded, Galadriel gave a cry of pain, and her eyes were stained with tears. It was then that the men of Dorwinion and the Dwarves hurled themselves towards the barbarians celebrating Jon's fall, but when she tried to rush to his aid, the dragon barred her way.

"What are you doing? .. JON NEEDS US!" A frantic Galadriel screamed at the thought of losing Jon; she couldn't go through the torment of losing the man she loved again. Not again, but Jon's dragon ignored her and started backing away, and that was when the beautiful elf cleared her mind and perceived it as the warmth of fire and the cold of ice.

Fear, Jon's dragon was terrified.

"What is wrong?" But her question was answered immediately when Jon staggered to his feet.

"Jon ..." Galadriel cried with happiness, but she knew something was wrong.

Jon removed the arrows with curses of pain, apparently ignoring the men of Dorwinion and the Dwarves who saw their new "ally" with surprise and fear.

"RETURN NOW TO THE CITY WALLS!" Galadriel shouted frantically.

Galadriel had always known that her beloveds bestial side was cruel and wrothful, but to see the fury of his blood first hand was another matter entirely.

Jon began to madly attack all before him, savaging the Easterlings with berserk fury; he was akin god of war astride the battlefield, his sword wailing and screaming as they hacked off limbs and heads from bodies with every swing. With every life he took, the Jon roared and bellowed, laughed and sang, revelling in the screams of the fools.

Galadriel was thus frightened of her beloved as she witnessed him slay countless men, and ever the joy of battle was in his heart fighting with a wild beast is one thing since although strong and fast, it can be overcome with cunning and skill since they often know little of their own strength but to fight someone so cruelly cunning it was akin to the tales of woe and darkness her mother wove to frighten her.

Finally, the Easterlings fled though the battle was not done as Jon spun his savage gaze upon the soldiers of Doriwinion, and Galadriel's eyes widened in horror.

"JON!" The beautiful elf screamed when she saw her beloved charge towards the defenders of the city; however, Jon's dragon struck him with her tail and knocked the wind from his lungs.

Galadriel knew she must act before Jon rose to his feet, so she used her magics to addle his mind causing Jon to howl in pain, and though it grieved her to cause her beloved such anguish, it was far preferable to him slaying innocent men.

Everything that had happened here would have repercussions, the dragon's appearance, the participation in the battle and savaging their deemed allies; this would bode ill for Elendils plans.

He only hoped that they would be willing to listen to Jon when he regained his sanity; after all, he had saved their lives, though, to her joy, Galadriel sensed that Jon had mastered his mind once more.

"Jon!" Galadriel cried out through tears when she saw her love had regained his wits.

"My star of the West ... I'm so sorry, I ..." But at that moment, Galadriel ran towards him, and before he could finish speaking, she kissed him with all the passion she could muster.

"You always cause me worry, my beloved wolf," Galadriel said before cuffing him on the shoulder, provoking Jon to groan in pain.

"I guess I deserved it," Jon said after a moment as he noticed that he had a blade stuck in his side; he pulled it out and felt the wound knit itself together.

"We have a great deal to discuss Jon; forcing me to remain with Vhagar was rather humiliating," Galadriel said in a tone cold like the peaks of cloudy mountains, and the fact that she called him by his real name meant that he was in trouble although he had no regrets, Galadriel was safe that was the only thing Jon cared about.

The Lady of Belfalas arched her eyes at the thought, so Galadriel smiled slightly ... But she was still furious with Jon.

"I see you have no fear of my anger Jon," Galadriel said ruefully, and Jon smiled; she was more beautiful when she was furious.

They heard many footsteps approaching at that moment and saw the Soldiers of Dorwinion and the Dwarves coming towards them with their weapons drawn, no doubt in fear of Vhagar.

"Well met, soldier", Jon said with a smile.

"Who are you?" A soldier asked, pointing his spear at Jon.

"I am Aemond Targaryen, although perhaps you know me by the name of Jon Snow. I am an Emissary of King Elendil, he sent me here to speak with the King of these lands, and this is Galadriel, the Lady of Light, the Lady of Belfalas who is my companion we came here seeking peace and yet found war, so we thought to give you aid, "Jon said solemnly, the soldiers looked at him in disbelief while others looked at Galadriel spellbound, however, the Dwarves stared at Jon's dragon with fear and distrust.

"We have heard of Jon Snow even here in the easternmost region of the Free Peoples, and we know of Lady Galadriel whose beauty belittles even the stars, but I find it odd that a King would send one, so battle crazed as a diplomat," Said the soldier who was speaking with him.

Jon just groaned in annoyance and reached into his clothes, and instantly, everyone stiffened.

"What are you trying to do, boy?" Asked one of the Dwarves brandishing his axe.

Jon did not answer and took out the golden seal that his King sent to Khazad-dûm before presenting it to the soldier who stared in wonder.

"Enough?" Jon asked, and the soldier only observed him in silence for a few moments before debating with his companions.

"I had never heard that a dragon could be controlled .." said one of the Dwarves, who looked at Vhagar in astonishment.

"Her name is Vhagar, and I have no more control over her than you over the rising of the sun; she is my ally and friend," Jon said, looking at the surprised Dwarf with interest as he had never seen a dwarf so heavily armed, but he had little time to ponder this as the soldiers returned.

"We believe you; you are Jon Snow Emissary of King Elendil and Manwë; if the rumours are true, you may enter our city, but your dragon shall remain here, and you shall be disarmed," Said the soldier in a stern tone.

"As you say, but I can't speak for the Lady Galadriel," Jon said, looking at Galadriel, but she nodded.

"Very well", she said in a melodious voice, handing over her spear.

"Follow us ..." Said the soldier as Jon and Galadriel entered the ruined City that showed the damage it had received.

However, the Dwarves looked at Jon intrigued, had a man tamed a dragon? It was something incredible and intriguing They should know more; they had gone to Dorwinion fleeing from their homes as the Shadow of the East grew mighty. They had decided to go and seek refuge in Khazad-dûm, so in passing on their journey to the West, they went to Dorwinion to rest for a few days as well as to ask for help in regards to a treasure they had found.

They had hoped to receive aid from the ports of Dorwinion and sail the Sea of Rhun in search of a treasure of great value if the legends were true, a prize that would bring a king to his knees if the ancient journal they obtained was reliable. But, unfortunately, they had not succeeded; those men from Dorwinion were weak in character and given up after several days.

But that young man, he had something, he must have a character and determination to bear being near a beast like that, even if it is true that it was given to him by Erú. Moreover, if he came as Emissary of the Dúnedain, it meant that he was hailed from Arnor or Gondor, and those men were exceptional sailors; perhaps he could help them with their search.