First Born

Chapter 3 - Maikath



Chapter 3 - Maikath

‘That’s it! You sit and
enjoy yourself! Never spare a thought for your poor mother!’

The door to the room was flung open against the wall. It was the Lady Maikath,
Thranduil’s mother and since Oropher’s death the dowager queen. She glared at
Riawen, who quickly bobbed a curtsey and fled the room. Maikath then
transferred her baleful gaze to Athiel.

‘And how are you, madam?’

Athiel nodded her head
demurely, too used to the older woman’s overbearing attitude to be much
bothered.

‘I am well, thank you ma’am.
The healer says I may get up today.’

Maikath’s attention swept to
Thranduil.

‘I would speak to you, son- outside.’

Thranduil stood and kissed
his wife.

‘I won’t be long, and then
we will walk in the gardens.’

Maikath snorted her disgust
at such an open display of affection and did not even wait for the door to
close before berating her son.

‘If you had but wed another
of our own kindred rather than that woodland whore you would be holding your first
born!’

‘Mother, the healer said
that it is not unknown for a woman to lose a baby after a shock,’ Thranduil
said firmly.

‘Not Sindarin women.’

‘Yes mother, any
women.’

‘No woman of our line
has ever lost a child.’ Maikath tilted her chin up as if daring him to
contradict her. Unfortunately she underestimated the
change in her son’s countenance since his return from the south.

‘Athiel is of our line now,
and she is suffering enough guilt without you adding to it!’ Thranduil barked
before realising that his tone had been as commanding as a soldier’s on a
battlefield. He hesitated and took a breath, trying to calm his voice. ‘Please
try and help her, Mother.’

‘Help her?’ Maikath
accused. ‘But who is going to help me with my grief? I am bereft
without him- without my beloved Oropher!’ Her act would have been impressive,
but Thranduil had seen it too many times to be taken in.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he
snapped. ‘You only married to get the crown and you only stayed because you’re
too stubborn to go the Havens! There was never any love in this place until I
bought Athiel home.’

‘I loved you.’ Now her voice
was quiet.

‘You might have done, but
diu evu ever show it?’ he snapped with such venom that he even surprised
himself, but then the words were flowing thick and fast and he could do nothing
to stop them. ‘I can never remember being hugged, being kissed, being praised.
Nothing I ever did was good enough for you or Oropher. I was
never noticed except to be criticised. I was just kept
away from you, my mother. If it hadn’t been for
Fanáon, I would have grown untutored and unloved. And what happened to him?’
Thranduil began to pace, realised what he was doing and forcefully stopped
himself. His voice turned cold with bitterness. ’I’ll
tell you what happened to him. Because of my father’s obstinacy, because
of my father’s refusal to follow Gil-galad, Fanáon was
ripped apart by a band of Orcs. I watched it happen. They just kept cutting
and cutting…and I couldn’t get to him!’ His eyes were brimming with
tears at the memories. ‘Then I had to watch all the other others die. I had to
watch my father die.’ His voice turned hard. ‘Do you want to know how he died?
How he died screaming?’ He looked up to see the impact the revelation
had on her. Maikath blanched, her eyes going wide with horror, and shook her
head in denial, but Thranduil couldn’t stop himself
from further venting his fury on the nearest target.

‘Do you realise how many
died?’ he demanded, ‘How many talans will be without their husbands, sons,
brothers? And now I’m responsible!’ He raised his hands, looking for
something to do with them that could emphasise his helplessness, found nothing
and let them drop again in frustration. ‘I’ve got to guard our borders! I’ve got to ensure enough food is grown! I’ve got to keep order! I’ve
got to liaise with those accursed mortals! I’ve got to do all this and I
don’t even know how- Oropher never thought to tell me anything about how he
organised this place, because as usual he didn’t have the time.’ He
shook his head, finding himself smiling ruefully at the utter absurdity of his
situation. ‘I can’t even find the keys to his desk!’

‘He normally left them on
the night stand in his bathroom.’

The changed tone of his
mother’s voice made him look up in shock. He ran a hand through his hair in an
unconscious gesture of surprise.

‘What?’

‘He always left his keys
there,’ Maikath continued softly. ‘He’d drop them there as he walked through. I
kept telling him that he’d lose them, that he should
put them somewhere safe. But he never listened.’ She lowered her eyes and a
hint of a smile played across her lips.

Thranduil suddenly realised
that his mother was trying to help. He reached across to tilt her chin up with
one finger and found that her gaze was now filled with deep regret, and a
strange new longing for acceptance, to make up for the time lost.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a
whisper. ‘I’m sorry…your father, he said it would make
you weak to show you love. I- I wanted to do what was right, but I had no one
to ask. He said that no son of his would be tied to his mother’s skirts.’

‘But why do you constantly
criticise Athiel?’ Thranduil exclaimed, shocked by this abrupt revelation.
‘Nothing she ever does is right!’

‘I was envious. You have
something I never had…you have each other’s love.’ As if finally admitting it
to herself, she raised her hands in surrender. ‘I was brought here as part of a
treaty between the Sindar of Lindon and your father’s people. I never even met
your father until our espousement.’ Her eyes grew moist in remembered sorrow.
‘I’m alone. I’ve been alone since I left Härlond.
Oropher only wanted me to strengthen his blood ties to the Eldar. And to give him a son, of course. But once you were born he
never spoke to me again, except to order me.’ Her voice grew shrill with
emotion. ‘He never acknowledged me. I was an inconvenience to him. He kept
telling me to go west, but I wouldn’t go. I would have
gone because I wanted to escape, but not to please him.’

Thranduil stared at her in
astonishment. He’d always known his parents were less
than lovers, but he’d never realised the extent of his father’s apathy until
now.

‘Will you go now?’ he asked
blankly.

‘There is nothing for me
here, nothing to hold me.’ Her voice turned bitter. ‘I’m even more of an
inconvenience.’

‘You could stay,’ he said
suddenly. ‘You could help me- help us. There’s much to be done.’ Hesitantly,
unsure how the gesture would be treated, he offered
her his hand.

‘You would let me stay?’ she
echoed. ‘After the way I treated you both?’

‘Naneth*!’ This time he caught her hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘I’m going to need all the help I can get!’

Now she was smiling- really
smiling, and tears of gladness were filling her eyes at this strange and
newfound acceptance.

‘Than I
will stay, ionnîn**. I will
help wherever I can.’

Thranduil smiled at her,
unwilling to admit how the moment was affecting him as much as it appeared to
have done the same to her. But he felt like he needed
to say something else.

‘Will you have dinner with
us tonight?’

‘Oh!’ The invitation seemed
to shock her. ‘I- I mean- yes, of course. If you wish it.’

‘I do. And so will Athiel.’

‘Then yes,
aranîn***. And I’ll gather all
Oropher’s papers and keys together. I’ll leave them in his- in your office.’
She smiled openly and bustled away.

‘Aranîn?’ Thranduil exclaimed to the empty air. He whirled back
towards the door in utter shock as everything came crashing onto his shoulders
at once. ‘My king? Me? Me, the
king?’ Shaking his head at the door as if accusing it of being the root
of all his problems, he pushed it open and went back inside.

To his
queen.

*mother

**son

*** king