Title: Reteaching the Wise

Summary: After the recent death of his wife, Thranduil is now blinded by his grief. He is now convinced that Imaldris is a threat and wants assurance. Fate is going to make sure that not even hope remains in the last homely house.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nothing more to it.

A/N: I'm not dead, but life seems to thoroughly demand that I stay in reality. Being winter break I have taken some time to write again. I may not get back to my other lotr story, so that'll have to be put on hold. School sucks, but I'm in band and that makes it slightly bearable. Here we go!

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Elrond's irritation was rising with every possible moment that he was forced to stay in audience with the elf that sat in front of him. The most impressive part of this amazing feat was that the said elf had yet to say anything. Lord Elrond, great and powerful as he was, finally yielded to the pompous face and to the proper manners that was required of him.

"Greetings Ènfin. I hope that your trip was well," Elrond said behind gritted teeth.

"Of course, thank you for asking. In fact, it was a very uneventful one. Your borders seem to be very peaceful considering the fact that barely a year ago you were begging for aid against the apparent 'onslaught' of orcs and wargs," Ènfin answered snidely.

Elrond's hands balled into fists at his sides. Ènfin was the chief advisor of Mirkwood and after the decline of the king he had grown in power. After the fairly recent, for elves at least, death of King Thranduil's wife he had slowly spiraled into a depression, coupled with the continual rise in heavy loses from the spider and orc infestation Mirkwood has been on a very steady decline.

"Yes, thanks to the help you so willingly given to us."

Ènfin's eyes blazed, "Mirkwood hasn't even achieved what you have here in your quaint little house when our warriors go to battle almost every day," Elrond's insides twisted as he saw Ènfin start to smile as he abruptly changed the subject, "You know, Mirkwood and Rivendell haven't been on such good terms as of late…"

Elrond resisted the urge to say, 'You don't say.'

"Since you were able to rid yourself of your orc problems so quickly that you would use your growing powers as an advantage over out dwindling ones."

Elrond looked at him with alarm. "You aren't accusing us of going against our own brethren! You cannot be alluding to another kinslaying!"

Ènfin was now standing and strutting about the room. "This is why we shall take some collateral or reassurance, if you will."

Elrond froze. "You can't be serious. Surely King Thranduil will not approve…"

Ènfin cut across him. "Oh, but he does! That is why I have been sent here. I have the signed documents right here. If you do not offer some collateral then Mirkwood will declare war on this house."

Elrond, who had somehow found himself standing, let himself fall back into his chair. How could this have happened? Yes, relations had been stretched and tensions rather stiff, but he never thought it would come to this. What answer could he give, for Elrond knew what kind of 'reassurance' Ènfin was demanding. It was not gold or supplies of any sort. Ènfin wanted a personal supplement: a chief advisor or most likely a part of the royal family. Elrond let his hand run through his hair.

Just then all the occupants of the room heard a crash and then hurried footsteps that grew louder louder, approaching at a fair speed. Suddenly, the door burst open and just as quickly closed again by a youth with dark brown, shoulder length hair looking positively windswept. He pressed his ear against the door, but took an involuntary step back as furious yells came from the other side.

"If I find you doodling in that book again I shall rip out you lungs until you turn blue, put them back in you, and the strangle you!" Came the muffles yells of what vaguely sounded like Rivendell's librarian.

The youth grimaced. "Sorry, it won't happen again, I promise," then after a slight pause he added, "At least they were nice pictures."

"If you mean the quality then yes, they are fairly nice, but I'm sure Lord Erestor would not like a picture depicting him as a bat elf with a beard and covered in dust and cobwebs while lecturing about one of you and your brother's little adventures," the librarian returned.

He continued on about something, but the youth turned back to face Lord Elrond and suddenly realized that there was a visitor in the room. He gave a quick bow to Ènfin, who was watching the boy with mounting interest.

"I apologize for any disturbance that I may have caused. I have my morning history lessons here and was unaware that my father had an engagement."

"You're late you know," Elrond said, matter of factly from behind his desk.

"I'm sorry, I was having a dilemma." Estel smiled mischievously.

Elrond returned the smile warmly. "Clearly," he turned to Ènfin dispassionately, "I need a few moments to speak with my son. If you will wait I shall get back to you shortly." He motioned the boy closer and the spoke in lowered tones.

Ènfin was astounded. Father? Son! He could see that the boy was human, but the way the two interacted. It was strange. Elrond's eyes had just…just… Ènfin's smile returned. Elrond's eyes just clouded. This boy was his weakness.

"He will do fine Lord Elrond. I want his bags packed by tomorrow because we will leave on the following morning."

Both Elrond and Estel turned a confused look at Ènfin, but a look of dread was starting to settle into Elrond's features.

"No…please, he isn't even 16 yet! We do not know how long this could last. He's human and this elvish feud could last most of his entire life span!" Elrond was clutching the boy's shoulders.

"Would you rather me took one of you twin sons? Or perhaps your beautiful daughter?" Ènfin gave off an aura of triumph.

"This is madness, he has nothing to do with this!"

Ènfin looked directly into the boy's bewildered and slightly frightful face. "Are you willing to sacrifice yourself and maybe even your freedom to keep your home and family safe?"

The answer was immediate, without doubt, said by a straight backed youth who knew what he was saying, but did not yet understand what his answer would come to mean. Estel returned the other's gaze with his own, both fierce and spirited with a fire and drive that was all his own.

"Yes."

If he had looked behind to his father he would have seen the shadow of despair that adorned his face and the unshed tears waiting for a more private time.