Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds

Chapter 12: Change of Heart


The opening ceremony extended into the early hours of the morning. Elves danced, sang, drank and made merry. Everyone was having a good time and was enjoying being able to fellowship with elves from other realms.

Haldir, on the other hand, was alone, as usual, and preferred to spend his time observing the others. He desired to move away from the noise of the party and to go somewhere where he could watch the festivities from a distance. He looked around, trying to find a place that was unoccupied, but quickly discovered that every nook and cranny of the grounds were inhabited. He sighed and looked upward, suddenly realizing that he was only a meter from the rear entrance of the Mirkwood guesthouse. He approached the doorway slowly, peered inside and smiled; it appeared to be empty.

Haldir entered the hall and looked around curiously, noting that the Mirkwood guest quarters differed from Lothlórien’s. While both estates were similar in size, the décor was what differed the most. Drapes in hues of emerald and chestnut adorned every window. Even the long, curved staircase before him was outfitted in lifelike leaves that ornamented the railing. Haldir stood at the base of the stairway and felt compelled to explore a little further. Without further hesitation, he ascended the stairs; his gaze was drawn to a room that had abundant light flooding out of it. Curiosity overtook the Lórien warrior, and he entered the chamber cautiously.

The room was long, rectangular in shape and served as a library for guests. Behind him, aside from two doorways at either end of the room, the wall was covered with bookcases filled with countless tomes. An enormous ornamental rug stretched across the wooden floor and multiple, plush settees, chairs and tables were arranged neatly around the room. Haldir faced the front of the room and noticed two terrace entrances, just opposite of the doors that led back into the manor. Moonlight was pouring in through one of the doors and Haldir decided to go out and view the grounds from above.

The warrior realized very quickly that this balcony was on the front of the Mirkwood guesthouse, just above the entranceway. He looked down and could see that some members of the party were now in the front of the manors, including Glorfindel. Haldir could feel his heart leap in his chest; he stared longingly at the ancient elf.

Glorfindel was chatting animatedly with King Thranduil, Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn who laughed heartily at what he was saying.

Haldir frowned and hoped that he wasn’t part of Glorfindel’s humorous tale. He contemplated just how foolish he had probably looked earlier when he had spoken to Glorfindel and shuddered. He wished he could be more refined… more like… like Legolas.

Suddenly, Haldir heard a muffled scream and turned abruptly, trying to discover where the sound was coming from. He rushed out of the library and into the hallway, looking around inquisitively. He heard the sound again; it was louder this time and emanated from the passage to his left. Haldir took an ornamental sword that was positioned above a nearby doorway and unsheathed it. Clutching it, he went in search for the source of the frightened cries.

Haldir heard another shriek and felt his heartbeat quicken. He glanced into each chamber as he passed, making sure that they were empty. He went from room to room and was just about to stop his journey when he heard a scream that sent waves of fear down his spine. Someone was in trouble; he had to help.

Haldir entered the last room at the end of the corridor and was shocked to see Legolas. The prince seemed to be asleep, but was clutching his throat and writhing in agony.

“Legolas? Legolas!” Haldir exclaimed, shaking the prince forcefully.

The youngest prince awakened at once. He was trembling violently and clutching his throat, desperately gasping for air.

“Legolas, are you alright?” Haldir asked, visibly taken aback by Legolas’ odd behavior, but trying to remain calm.

Legolas gasped for air again and looked around the room nervously, barely listening to Haldir.

“You gave me quite a fright,” Haldir said, looking at the prince, concerned. “I apologize for awakening you, but I heard you scream; I thought something horrible had happened.”

Legolas didn’t speak. He kept his hand planted firmly around his neck and stared straight ahead.

Haldir was very aware of how awkward this situation was for the prince, and was actually feeling ill at ease himself. Haldir assumed that Legolas’ silence was a way of telling him to leave, which he decided to do at once. After all, he was only a marchwarden didndidn’t want to upset King Thranduil’s son. “Begging you pardon. I will take my leave now.”

Legolas looked at Haldir, as though seeing him for the first time. “Haldir… please… do not leave.”

“As you wish, Sire.”

“What… what are you doing in here?” Legolas asked, still clutching his throat.

“I was at the opening ceremony and decided to explore the Mirkwood guesthouse. I was in the library when I heard you scream. When I found you, you were asleep, but behaving as though you were in pain so I awakened you.

Legolas nodded slowly, avoiding Haldir’s eyes.

There was a long silence.

“Perhaps I should take my leave, now.” Haldir said, turning to leave.

“Nay,” Legolas said. “I mean… you may stay if you like.”

Haldir didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure if he should go or stay and felt a bit uncomfortable standing in the prince’s bedchamber in the middle of the night.

Legolas could sense Haldir’s apprehension and smiledmly.mly. “Did you call me ‘Sire” earlier?”

Haldir nodded.

“If you recall, I told your brothers, Orophin and Rúmil, that there is no need for such formality where I am concerned. You are a friend of Elladan’s, which makes you a friend of mine. You may call me Legolas.”

Haldir felt some of his unease fade and smiled at the prince. “You gave me quite a scare. I thought that someone was being slain.”

“I was,” Legolas said.

Haldir’s eyes widened.

“In my dream,” the prince added quickly upon seeing the expression on Haldir’s face. “When my mother died… after she died, I had vivid nightmares. That is what occurred here tonight.”

“And you were being killed in your dream?”

“Aye. An orc-like creature was trying to behead me with his claws.”

Haldir furrowed his brow.

“The dream was so real. I… I could feel his claws tearing my flesh. I thought I was dying. I tried to fight back but couldn’t… for the first time… I was helpless.” Legolas finally released his grip from around his neck and sighed.

Haldir gasped and stared at the prince in shock. “Legolas… your neck!”

Legolas stood up abruptly and walked across his bedchamber. He peered into a looking glass that was hanging above his dresser and his eyes widened. There, on the left side of his neck were four claw marks that extended from his earlobe to his throat.

“Legolas, you were not dreaming. You were attacked. We must go and inform the King at once.”

“Nay, Haldir!” Legolas said, grabbing Haldir’s arm. “I will be fine. It is not necessary to inform anyone about this.”

“Legolas, this is serious,” Haldir said. “Your life could be in danger.”

“It isn’t,” Legolas said quickly.

“The marks on your neck would suggest otherwise.”

“Haldir, you saw the mud fight. My father is already very cross with me. He has already threatened to send me back to Mirkwood if I embarrass him further. If he hears about this he will not let me stay… I am sure of it,” Legolas explained.

Haldir frowned. “I am not sure about this, Legolas. I am a marchwarden, it is my duty to protect… if anything happened to you…”

“I am not Ulan,” Legolas quipped. “I am no docile child, in need of a guard. I am a prince, that is true, but I am also a warrior. I can take care of myself.”

Haldir felt as though he had been put in his place and nodded politely. “I am sorry… you are correct; you are no child. I… I was only trying to help.”

Legolas sighed and silently cursed at himself for speaking so harshly to Haldir. He knew that the marchwarden meant well. “Do not fret,” Legolas said. “Everything will be fine.” He smiled at Haldir and wondered if his own words were really true.

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Hours later, daybreak arrived. The sun stretched its long arms toward the sky, awakening the world to a new day.

This would be a day of rest for most of the elves, as the opening ceremony hadn’t ended until the moon had almost disappeared behind the mountains in the distance, and the first rays of light turned the sky from cobalt to crimson. For two elves, however, rest would be the last thing they would receive this day.

Elladan was already in the stable, preparing for what would probably be a horrendous day. After his elaborate trick on the king had failed, both his father and grandfather had been quite angry. Even though he and Elrohir had been allowed to attend the opening ceremony, they hadn’t escaped a harsh punishment.

Elrohir stormed into the stable, interrupting Elladan’s thoughts, throwing his bucket and brush onto the ground.

“Hello, Elrohir,” Elladan said, trying to sound cheerful.

“Oh, shut your mouth, Elladan!” Elrohir snapped. “Have you looked out of the stable this day? Have you seen how many horses we are supposed to bathe? There are hundreds of them… they extend from here, down the path and up the hill! We have to wash every horse in all three realms!”

“Well…” Elladan said, “at least we will be primed for the first competition. Just think of how much exercise we will get today.”

“We? We?” Elrohir hollered.

“Elrohir, calm down,” Elladan said. “Between the two of us, we can have all of the horses washed in no time.”

“You are such a liar, Elladan,” Elrohir spat. “The only reason I am being punished is because of you. You threatened me so I would help you, and now I am being punished along side you. I won’t have it, Elladan.”

“What do mea mean? Father and Grandfather punished us both. We have to bathe the horses.”

“Nay, **you** have to bathe the horses. Remember… you are indebted to me… and you said that whenever I need a favor that you would do it without question.”

“But, Elrohir,” Elladan protested, “I cannot wash all of these horses by myself.”

“You can and you will,” Elrohir said and stalked out of the stable.

Elladan waited for a long while, believing that Elrohir would eventually return. But as the sun rose higher in the sky with the passing of each moment, Elladan realized that he was on his own.

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Thranduil sat in front of the vanity in his bedchamber and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He hadn’t slept at all after the opening ceremony had ended, even though he, Celeborn, Elrond and Glorfindel had retired for the evening well before some of the younger elves.

Thranduil grasped a comb that was on the vanity countertop and pulled it through his hair. He stopped suddenly and observed his hands; they were shaking. The king placed the comb back on the dresser and smiled. It had been a long time since he was nervous, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t wait to see Elrond. In fact, he wanted to see the Lord of Rivendell now.

Thranduil changed his clothes quickly, putting on a handsome, acorn colored tunic that was embroidered with a delicate russet trim. He tried to ignore his bandaged arm and put on matching russet leggings and boots and braided his hair a bit differently this day, only creating a single plait in his hair, instead of the traditional three-braided Mirkwood style. Once the king was completely dressed, he observed himself in the looking glass. He thought he looked quite handsome, but wished he could get the ridiculous expression off of his face. He couldn’t help it, though. He was completely smitten, and knew that nothing could ruin this day.

The king adjusted his tunic self-consciously and left his bedchamber; he was off to see Elrond.

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Thranduil peeked into Elrond’s bedchamber.

Elrond, who had sensed the king’s presence, smiled faintly. “Good morn, Thranduil.”

“Good morn, Elrond,” Thranduil responded, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice. “Did you sleep well?”

“Aye,” Elrond lied. “And you?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Elrond turned away from the king and began to shuffle through some papers that were on a dresser in the room.

Thranduil shifted uncomfortably, sensing an odd coldness from Elrond. He wasn’t sure what to do next and waited patiently, hoping that Elrond would say something. But, the silence lingered for an awkward amount of time and Thranduil decided to speak. “Perhaps… maybe I should leave.”

Elrond looked at Thranduil and nodded. “Aye, that may be best.”

The king felt as though he had been slapped across the face. *Why was Elrond behaving this way?* Thranduil turned to leave but stopped just short of the doorway. He turned to face the lord. “You are different this morning, Elrond. Have I done something to offend you?”

Elrond sighed and met the king’s eyes. “Nay, I am not offended… I just know why you have come this morn.”

“And why is that?”

“Thranduil, this is not going to work.”

“What is not going to work?”

“This,” Elrond said, motioning from himself to Thranduil. “Us.”

Thranduil stared at Elrond in shock. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “How can you say that? You haven’t even given **us** a chance.”

“You are right… and I am not going to.”

Thranduil shook his head and stared at the lord in incredulity. “And what has brought you to this conclusion?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

“The past… and the present,” Elrond replied. “I have been thinking about this since… since yesterday, Thranduil, and I can see things quite clearly now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you forgotten what happened the last time we had a misunderstanding?” Elrond asked. “Do you remember what happened the last time our feelings for one another were allowed to run amuck?”

“That isn’t fair, Elrond,” Thranduil said. “That was along time ago. And you are forgetting that neither of us knew how the other person felt. Everything was a misunderstanding.”

“Exactly,” Elrond said. “And what is preventing another misunderstanding, now?”

“I am standing before you,” Thranduil replied. “I am no longer a princeling; I aming.ing. I have grown up since then… so have you. I will not repeat the mistakes of my youth.”

Elrond shook his head. “This is bigger than us, now. You are right; you are no longer a youth, and neither am I. We have responsibilities now, especially to our children. Our sons are to be wed, Thranduil. What would happen if a relationship between the two of us failed? Would you ban me from Mirkwood again? Or even worse, would you ban Elladan?”

“That isn’t fair, Elrond,” Thranduil said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “That was a long time ago. I have changed, and so have you.”

“Have we really changed, Thranduil? We had our chance, and we failed. It would not be fair for us to ruin what our sons have.”

“What’s to ruin?” Thranduil asked. “They adore one another. Why must you look for the negative in this? A relationship between the two of us has nothing to do with Elladan and Legolas.”

“Yes, it does. Have you considered the possibility that Elladan and Legolas may not be together forever? What would become of us if their courtship failed? Or, what if you and I were together and I… I shared my bed with someone else while you were away? What would happen when you found out?”

“That would never happen,” Thranduil said, shrugging. “I excel in the art of pleasure. If you and I were in a relationship, you would never desire anyone else… I would see to that.”

Elrond felt his body ache as Thranduil was talking. He wanted to feel the king’s warm mouth on his again. He pushed these thoughts out of his mind, though. He knew that he was doing the right thing—that stopping this relationship before it started was best, for everyone.

Thranduil waited for Elrond to respond and when he didn’t, the king approached him slowly. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because it is the right thing to do.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“So my feelings… my thoughts do not matter?”

“Nay.

Thranduil looked at the floor and shook his head in dismay. He looked back up at the lord, meeting his eyes. “Then I guess there is nothing left for us to discuss.”

“Nay.”

Thranduil felt as though he had been in a fight and lost. He bowed politely before exiting the bedchamber, trying to maintain his composure as he left. Once he was in the hallway, all he could think about was escape. Thranduil decided that he wouldn’t venture to the grove with his companions this day. He needed to be alone.

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Legolas entered the stable just before midday and found an exhausted looking Elladan scrubbing a mare’s hooves.

Elladan paused long enough to wipe his brow and smile faintly at the prince.

“You look exhausted,” Legolas commented, approaching Elladan.

“I am,” the Rivendell elf said, rising to his feet.

“Where is Elrohir?” Legolas asked, looking around the stable.

“He left.”

“Left?”

“Aye, he is quite cross with me… I assume that you heard about what happened?”

“That you foolishly attempted to deceive my father?”

“Aye,” Elladan said glumly. “It would seem that your father is more observant than most.”

“Aye, my father notices everything,” Legolas said. “You should have known that trying to mislead him would get you into trouble.”

“I was only trying to apologize to him,” Elladan explained. “I was hoping that an eloquent verbal repentance would help you… and your brothers. I was going to tell your father that everything was my fault and ask him not to punish his sons for my wrongdoing.”

“Why didn’t you say that to him, then? Why ask Elrohir to appeal for you?”

“Do you not know me at all?” Elladan asked, staring at the prince as though he were insane. “Your father could chill the very sun if he chose to. There is no way I was going to beg for his forgiveness. If I had, I am certain that I would not be here right now, for my punishment would have been far worse.”

Legolas regarded the seemingly endless line of horses that extended out of the stable and over a hill in the distance. “What could be worse than this?”

“Death.”

“Death?” Legolas asked in incredulity. “Oh honestly, Elladan…”

“It is true,” Elladan said, interrupting Legolas. “Remember, your father could chill the sun above. What, then, would become of me? Although my physique, my wit and my unbelievably handsome face cause many hearts to smolder with desire, the heat I generate is less intense than the sun… at least by a little bit.”

Legolas chuckled and shook his head.

“Your father, on the other hand, could freeze an army with one of those icy stares of his. Hmm… perhaps I should ask him to join me in battle, next time. It would be nice to simply put the king in the center of a battlefield and let him solidify anyone who came near. Just think… the orcs are a threat to everyone. Your father could preserve them with his death stare and then we could trade them for various goods or favors to humans and dwarves; they love a good trophy. There will be an orc in every home, and it will all be made possible by your father.”

Legolas laughed, moving only inches from Elladan. “Although your idea is foolish, one aspect of your tale was correct.”

“Foolish?” Elladan murmured, pretending to be offended. “Go ahead, call my idea foolish. I shall see to it that you do not get your own orc. Perhaps I will ask your father to freeze a nice little rabbit for you… that will be the only trophy you will receive. Foolish indeed…”

Legolas smiled, stepping directly in front of Elladan, and placed his hand on the dark haired warrior’s face. “I missed you last night. My bedchamber seems cold without you to **warm** it up.”

Elladan felt his face redden and he admonished himself inwardly. He didn’t know why Legolas had this effect on him sometimes.

“As I said earlier, you were correct about one aspect of your tale… you do have the ability to make elves burn with desire for you. I know because I am one of them.”

Elladan gasped audibly when the prince brushed his lips slowly across his mouth.

“If you are like the sun… it has been too long since you have warmed me, Elladan,” Legolas whispered against his lover’s lips. “Or, if my father’s gaze has chilled you, perhaps tonight I can remind you what it means to be hot.”

Elladan smiled, kissing Legolas gently. He stroked the prince’s hair, which he was surprised to find was not in the traditional Mirkwood three braided style, but was worn loose. He also noticed, suddenly, that Legolas was wearing a very fancy undertunic that fit snuggly around his neck. “Your hair… and your attire… Legolas, why are you dressed so formally this day? I assume that your father informed you that the first competition isn’t for two days. So, why are your clothed as though you are going to a social gathering?”

“I do not know what you mean,” Legolas said, moving away from Elladan and walking over to a large, white mare and patting her head affectionately.

Elladan stared at the prince for a few moments before speaking. He knew something was wrong. “What is it? What has happened?”

“Nothing,” Legolas responded without looking at Elladan.

Elladan didn’t speak. He just stared at Legolas, unsure of what to say next.

The prince sighed and slowly turned to face Elladan. “I had hoped you would not notice…”

“Notice what?”

“That… that I am dressed a bit differently this day.”

“I didn’t notice at first,” Elladan admitted, “but I would have eventually.”

“Well, I sse Ise I should show you, then.”

“Show me what?”

“This,” Legolas said, unfastening the clasps that adorned the lapel of his undertunic and pulling the collar aside.

Elladan’s mouth fell open when he saw claw marks on the prince’s neck. “What… what happened to you?” he said, rushing over to Legolas and inspecting the wounds curiously.

“I… I am not sure.”

“What do you mean, ‘you are not sure?’” Elladan asked in disbelief. “You were attacked.”

“Aye,” Legolas sa“I w“I was attacked… by Elrohir in a dream.”

Elladan didn’t speak for a few moments; he regarded the prince carefully. “So… you believe that Elrohir is responsible.”

“Nay,” Legolas said without hesitation. “I believe that something strange is happening to me… that my dreams are manifesting in reality.”

Elladan sighed with relief. “I am glad that you do not believe Elrohir harmed you. I promise you that he was with me last night… even though he refused to speak to me.”

Legolas refastened his undertunic and shrugged. “I am not overly concerned about it.”

“You should be,” Elladan said. “Legolas, this is serious. You need to tell someone about this.”

“Nay,” Legolas said emphatically. “I cannot tell anyone about this… and neither can you.”

“But you are in da,” E,” Elladan protested. “If the marks on your neck are really a manifestation of your dreams, what will happen if your nightmares become worse? Legolas, you could die.”

“Elladan, you cannot speak of this to anyone. Because of the mud fight, my father is very cross with me. If I am the source of more problems, I am certain that he will send me back to Mirkwood. No one has ever died from having a dream… so I see no need to alarm anyone.”

“But, Legolas… what if you were really aked?ked? You assume that the wounds are a result of you dream, but what if someone means you harm?”

“No one wants to hurt me.”

“How can you be so certain?” Elladan asked, concerned. “And if your dreams have really become so violent… don’t you want to find out why? My father may be able to help.”

“Nay,” Legolas said firmly. “I have made a decision about this; I do not want any help.”

Elladan shook his head in protest and began to speak but was interrupted when Haldir, Rúmil, Orophin, Makail and Dace entered the stable.

“Hello,” Rúmil said, smiling.

“Hello,” Elladan responded.

The brothers said no more and positioned themselves in different areas of the stable and began to bathe the steeds.

Elladan’s mouth fell open. “Are you… are you helping me?”

“Aye,” Haldir said, dousing a stallion with water.

“Why?” Elladan asked in shock.

“Because we are your friends,” Orophin commented.

“And, we want to make suret yot you are done with all of these steeds in time for the competition in a couple of days,” Rúmil added. “I want to be thest tst to see your face when you lose the first event, the swordfight.”

Elladan scowled at Rúmil heldheld his tongue. He needed all of the help he could get and was in no position to drive away five able bodied elves. He focused his attention on a mare that was not to far from him and caught a glimpse of Legolas in a far corner of the stable, diligently washing the flank of a large steed.

The prince met Elladan’s eyes for a moment and smiled before turning his attention back to the horse.

Elladan felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach; he didn’t know why but he knew in his heart that something bad was going to happen.

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Thranduil was grief stricken. Elrond’s rejection felt like a mortal wound and resounded in his chest every time his heart beat. He left the Mirkwood guesthouse and began to walk. He didn’t really care where he went. He just wanted to be alone. He wouldn’t go to the grove, not this day. Instead, he decided to take a new path.

As he walked, he tried to push thoughts of Elrond out of his mind. But his unwanted memories had a way of persisting, and the king couldn’t stop himself from remembering the kiss. He remembered the way Elrond’s warm mouth felt against his and the way the lord had trembled when he touched his face. Then his happy memories faded away and all he was left with was Elrond’s rejection. It tasted like blood in his mouth, and he felt his stomach churn with emotion. He was enraged and sad at the same time. He wondered how he could love and hate Elrond all at once.

The king was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t realize that he had left the path and was now wandering deep into the forest. When he realized that he had no idea where he was, he was relieved in a way. He wanted to be lost; he wanted to be alone. Thranduil saw a small clearing in the distance and decided to go settle himself there. He needed time to think.

As the king walked toward the secluded place, he began to create a plan of action. He knew what Elrond expected. The lord of Rivendell knew him well, and Thranduil knew that Elrond would anticipate him to behave the way he had years ago – to lash out maliciously. Thus, he would have to do the opposite. He had to prove to Elrond that he had grown, that he had really changed… that he truly loved him. And, the only way to do that would be through action, not through words. He would have to spend the day, maybe even the night, working on himself. He would have to regain his composure and pretend that his heart wasn’t bleeding. Thranduil would have to stand by the one he loved more than life itself and not touch him and not tell him how much and how deeply he loved him. He would have to remain silent, possibly for eternity.

As the king entered the clearing its beauty pleasantly surprised him. Largees, es, whose leaves acted like a rooftop, shaded it. The branches seemed to intertwine, allowing a bit of sunlight to enter the clearing through the multiple leaves. He heard a melodic watery sound and looked toward a large tree just to his right. There was a small stream that drifted merrily just outside of the forest enclosure. A doe and her fawn regarded Thranduil for a moment and bentir nir necks to partake of some water. Thranduil felt his spirits lift just a bit and turned his attention back to the enclosure and gasped audibly with shock. There, staring at him wide-eyed was Arwen.

“I… I didn’t see you there,” he stammered, wondering how he could have overlooked her.

Arwen smiled faintly. “I am rarely seen, Sire,” she said, standing and curtseying politely.

Thranduil bowed deeply, utterly moved by Arwen’s beauty and ability to blend in this place. The elvish maiden was wearing an olive green gown that hung to the ground. It was artfully embroidered in an even darker shade of green that outlined the hem, the bodice, the sleeves and the neckline. Her wavy, dark brown hair cascaded well beyond her waist and the sunlight picked up hues of amber. He skin was the color of the marble halls in his meeting hall – a flawless shade of beige, like the finest porcelain in all three realms. Her face however, had a rosy glow about it, as though the sun had kissed her cheeks. The king met Arwen’s eyes last, and found that he was mesmerized by the depth and clarity they possessed. For her young age, he was surprised to discover that he was not standing before a foolish child. Instead, he was beholding a female who had suffered and endured the tests of life. He suddenly felt the need to speak quickly, as if he had interrupted something sacred. “Begging your pardon, Lady Arwen. I did not mean to intrude.”

“Fret not,” Arwen said softly, “you did not disturb me.” Her voice broke, giving her sadness away.

Thranduil heard Arwen’s voice catch and he regarded her carefully. Until now, he had not noticed the tear stains on her cheeks. “Lady Arwen…” he said gently. “If I may ask, what is wrong?”

“Nothing, Sire.”

“Your words ring true, but your eyes deceive you.”

Arwen paused before responding. “The foolish worries of a childish female plague my heart. But my troubles are nonsensical and unimportant. Do not bother yourself with me. I shall only bore you.”

“Not at all,” Thranduil said sincerely. “What ails you?”

“My family.” Arwen replied, un of of why she was compelled to share her troubles with someone she hardly knew.

Thranduil regarded Arwen carefully, unsure of what to say.

“I told you that I would bore you.”

“Nay, I am not bored. I am just surprised. You are concerned about your family?”

“Aye,” Arwen said, nodding. “I am my father’s unknown child. I fade into the background when I am in the presence of my brothers. But my invisibility does not make me blind. I see all that goes on around me but am powerless and unable to help.”

Thranduil listened to Arwen carefully.

“Something is amiss between Elladan and Elrohir. They disappeared this summer and when they came back they were different. There is a dark cloud around them; I can feel it. I… I can smell and see blood on their hands.”

“Have you asked them about this?”

“I tried, but they ignored me as usual.”

“Hmm…” Thranduil murmured, nodding his head.

“And Elrohir’s beloved Ellaria is my friend; they are to be wed, but now I am unsure… they rarely speak anymore. I… I suspect that they are no longer together.”

“Indeed?” Thranduil said in shock. “Have you mentioned this to your father or grandfather?”

“Nay. I did not want to speak too hastily, when I do not know all of the facts.”

“I see.”

“I must sound like a foolish child to you,” Arwen said softly, “to worry about my family so much.”

“On the contrary,” Thranduil said, smiling warmly. “I was thinking that your father must be very proud of you. You are very strong… to bear such worry alone. Perhaps, your strength lies in your femininity. I always wanted a daughter. I believe that the strength of a realm lies heavily within the females. That is why Lothlórien is so powerful. It is because of your grandmother’s strength that Lórien thrives.” The king paused for a moment now more aware than ever as to how much he missed his wife, Areen. Thranduil had always had a special respect for female elves. He valued their strength and their wisdom and considered them to be superior to the most prominent of males.

Arwen smiled for the first time. “Thank you, Sire.”

Thranduil nodded and smiled at the elven princess.

An unlikely friendship was forged deep in the forest that day. Arwen poured out the contents of her heart before the king, telling him about how much she missed her mother and of her worries about her secretive brothers.

Thranduil had become so engrossed in Arwen’s tales of woe that he had temporarily forgotten all about his troubles. The two elves conversed for hours upon hours, completely unaware that they were being watched.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Many hours had passed and at long last the last steed had been bathed. The seven exhausted warriors exited the stable, desiring a bath, a warm meal and sleep to soothe their aching muscles.

Elladan was grateful to Legolas, Makail, Dace and the Lórien brothers and ite ite his punishment was glad that the day had actually been fun. He invited all of his friends to the Rivendell manor for dinner and was happy that the rays of the sun were mostly hidden behind a hill in the distance. Elladan loved dusk and the way the orange and pink hues waged a losing battle with the glorious veil of cobalt that threatened to dominate the sky. As they entered the manor, Elrohir stepped forward, sadness imprinted in the depths of his eyes.

“May I speak to you in private, Elladan?” Elrohir asked.

“Of course,” Elladan responded. He turned to Legolas and the others. “Go ahead and eat without me.”

The elves nodded and headed toward the dining hall, except for Legolas, who lingered for a moment. The prince watched as the twins headed toward a chamber at the end of a long hallway and knew in his heart that something was wrong. He would have rather gone with Elladan and Elrohir instead of eaten dinner with the others, but he knew better than to interfere. Tearing his eyes away from the figures that were now entering the room in the distance, Legolas turned and headed for the dining hall.

Elladan turned to face Elrohir but held his tongue. The younger twin’s eyes were red and swollen, his skin was sallow and his face was wrought with despair. “I… I… I wanted to apologize for abandoning you this morn. It was wrong of me.”

“It was wrong of me to ask you to lie for me,” Elladan said, trying not to show too much concern for his twin’s current appearance.

“I… I have spent the whole of the day alone, deep in thought.”

“About what?”

“About…. Everything.”

“Everything?”

“I… I am lost,” Elrohir said unable to keep his voice from breaking.

“What is it?” Elladan asked, placing his hand on Elrohir’s shoulder.

“I tried to speak to Ellaria last night… but she ignored me,” Elrohir said softly. “I knew that it was over between us, but I thought that she still may love me… I am not so sure, now.”

“She does love you,” Elladan said.

“Nay,” Elrohir whispered. “And soon, once the competition is over, everyone will discover the truth. Once the games are over, questions will be asked. Father will want to know why we still haven’t gotten married and then the truth will unfold like a bad dream. Have you considered what that will mean? When it is discovered that Ellaria broke off our engagement because of what happened this summer…”

“Do not think on such things,” Elladan said, unable to hide the worry in his voice. “If it comes to that, we will tell everyone that we simply went away for awhile… that we needed some time to think.”

“And what about the prophecy?” Elrohir asked. “What about the orc’s words?”

“It was not a prophecy,” Elladan stated. “It was a threat. I do not fear orcs or their words of malice… and neither should you.”

Elrohir pulled away from his brother and sat down on a settee, exhausted with worry. “Elladan, I lost my mother and Ellaria… I cannot lose you too.”

“You will not lose me.”

“Elladan… Elladan, I… I want to talk to you about Henna.”

Elladan’s face paled. “I’t… ’t… it is still too soon, Elrohir.”

“But Elladan…”

“Elrohir…” Elladan said abruptly, interrupting his twin. “Today has been exhausting, but pleasant. I do not wish to think about unpleasant things that happened in the past. Please, come and eat with us. Everything will be alright.” Elladan placed his hand on Elrohir shoulder and led him toward the dining hall. Even though he had tried to convince Elrohir that all was well, he doubted his own words.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thranduil entered his bedchamber and sighed out loud before deciding that he wanted to take a warm bath. Calling upon a nearby attendant, the king busied himself while a redheaded she-elf prepared his bath. He noted that being a king did have certain luxuries and having one’s own private bathing chamber was his personal favorite. He watched as the female elf directed some of male servants, asking them to pour warm water into the basin in a small chamber to the south of his room. Servant after servant entered and left the room, pouring large casks of water, while others brought clean towels and oils into the room, placing them neatly around the basin. Soon, everyone had left his bedchamber… except for one.

“Your bath has been drawn, Sire,” the she-elf said, bowing.

“Thank you,” Thranduil said, nodding politely.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Nay,” Thranduil said. “I believe that everything is in order.”

“Are you certain?” the she-elf asked, placing her foot on a trunk that was at the foot of the king’s bed, raising the hem of her skirt to expose her perfect leg. “Is there nothing else I can do for you?”

Thranduil stared at the she-elf for a few moments, contemplating the irony of this situation. He smiled faintly before responding. “Thank you, but that is not necessary. I require nothing more than a hot bath tonight.”

“Very well,” the she-elf responded. “If you should change your mind… I… I am available to you. I do not usually offer myself so freely… but… well… it’s you,” she said slowly. “It’s you.”

Thranduil didn’t speak; he simply watched the female leave. Once she had exited the bedchamber he sank on his bed and held his head in his hands for a few moments.

“Thranduil?”

The king raised his head and smiled faintly at Glorfindel. “Hello.”

“I did not startle you this time?”

“Nay,” Thranduil said, confused. “I am surprised that I perceived you this time… of course, I only felt your presence as you passed over the threshold of my room.”

“It isn’t strange,” Glorfindel said, shrugging. “Sometimes I am perceived and sometimes I am not. Unlike you, I am both shadow and light--here and not here… both alive and dead.”

Thranduil nodded slowly and sighed. He wanted to pretend to be happy in front of Glorfindel, but he couldn’t. He knew why Glorfindel had come; he knew that Elrond had told the ancient elf about their parting, and thus, he did not offer to explain. Too saddened to stand, the king didn’t move from his position on the bed and stared at his hands glumly.

Glorfindel felt a swell of pity for Thranduil and watched him for a long time. He no longer saw the confident, haughty Mirkwood king. Instead, Thranduil looked like a lost boy. The king looked smaller and wounded. Glorfindel allowed his eyes to travel to Thranduil’s arm and noticed that Elrond’s bandage was still neatly wrapped around his forearm. “How is your arm? Has it healed?”

Thranduil regarded his arm, gently touching the bandage. “Almost…” he said softly. The king was lying; his wound had completely healed overnight. But he wasn’t ready to let go of the memory of Elrond’s healing touch… not yet.

Somehow Glorfindel understood and simply nodded his head slowly. “I can leave if you’d like to go and bathe.” He turned and took a step toward the doorway.

“Nay!” Thranduil said quickly, rising to his feet abruptly.

Glorfindel turned and faced the king, surprised by his sudden actions.

“I…” Thranduil said a bit embarrassed, “please stay… I… I…”

Glorfindel approached the king and stood before him, staring into his eyes. “Aye?”

“I need a friend this day,” Thranduil said honestly.

Glorfindel smiled. “Are you certain that you want to spend your time with me? Pria, the chambermaid, seemed very anxious to be with you.”

“You heard her?”

“I did.”

“It is not uncommon,” Thranduil said. “Offers such as hers are frequent. I have been approached in a similar way by seven elves since I have arrived here… three males and four females.”

“Many elves would like to change places with you. Pria is quite attractive… few would refuse her,” Glorfindel remarked.

“She can only satisfy my body,” Thranduil said slowly. “When I was very young, before I was wed, I took my pleasure with many ‘Prias.’ But… I need more now. I no longer seek to quench my carnal desire alone… but to satiate my soul.”

Glorfindel nodded.

“But… but he doesn’t want me,” Thranduil said, looking at the floor.”

Glorfindel didn’t know what to say. He wanted to comfort Thranduil but wasn’t sure how. After a brief pause, he placed his hand on the king’s shoulder. “Would you like to ride for a while?”

Thranduil raised his head, reluctantly meeting Glorfindel’s eyes and nodded slowly.

No more words passed between the companions. They exited the bedchamber and headed for the stable.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later, Thranduil entered his dark bedchamber and sighed. He looked at his bed, knowing that his dreams would be filled of Elrond… and his rejection. Although he had gained a friend in Arwen this day, he was still tending to the wounds on his aching heart… hurts that he had to bear alone.

Removing his over tunic and laying it on his bed, the king of Mirkwood opened the doors that led out onto the terrace. He walked onto the balcony and looked at the star-filled sky above, noting the brightness of the half-full moon. He unbraided his hair and let it dance on the gentle wind, playing upon his face gracefully. He stood there for over an hour, willing the wind to take his cares away. But then, something drew his attention. He saw two figures racing out toward a small pond in the distance. He watched a blonde-haired male pull his undertunic over his head and throw it on the ground, while the other male watched him. The blonde male seemed to be laughing and pushed the dark-haired male in the water, still fully clothed. The dark-haired male emerged from the depths of the pond, grabbed the blonde male’s hand and pulled him into the water. Thranduil watched as the males splashed one another and pushed one another before he realized that he was watching his son; it was Legolas and Elladan in the distance. He watched as they embraced one another and indulged in a tender kiss.

From so far away, Thranduil noticed how familiar the males looked--like younger versions of him and Elrond. But unlike the two of them, Legolas and Elladan would have their chance at love. And though Thranduil loved his children above all others, he found that he was jealous of his youngest son that night. It was not envy full of malice, but one of coveting. The king wanted to be loved, but knew that it wasn’t meant to be… that he would spend the remainder of his days alone. He had no idea that in the manor, adjacent to his guesthouse, Elrond stood on a terrace, watching two lovers swim and embrace under the moonlight. He didn’t know that Elrond’s heart and body ached for him, or that he Lord of Rivendell was completely in love with him.

---

TBC…