A/N: I seriously wish I had a home styled like how I imagine the palace of Dol Amroth in my head. Lots of windows, balconies, tan and white stone dotted with shells or shell fossils, and very open. Don't forget the sweeping curving staircases.
Morning was warm and soft. He smiled and pressed himself into the solid heat against him.
Warm? Soft? His eyes fluttered open and he jolted in alarm. Stern gray eyes frowned down at him in concern.
He glanced over his shoulder to find the door open, the chair toppled to the side. A pair of strong arms tightened around him as he tried to scramble away.
"Imrahil… What has gotten in to you?"
The young Prince did not answer and only shook his head rapidly. He had to get away. His father was not safe with him. The sound of the surf roared up the beach outside the balcony doors and Imrahil gasped in panic. The sea was coming for his father next!
Adrahil made a sound of alarm as Imrahil managed to squirm out from his grasp and half fell off the bed.
"Imrahil!"
Before he do could more than crawl half a step a pair of strong hands scooped him up much to his dismay. He struggled and pressed against his father's chest trying to break free.
"What in the name of Arda…? Imrahil! Stop it!"
His father's gripped tightened painfully and Imrahil subdued himself with a strangled sound of distress. Slowly, as though waiting for Imrahil to try and make a break for it any second, Adrahil loosened his hold. He only relaxed it utterly when Imrahil flinched at the sound of the sea and pressed his face into his father's neck.
Adrahil's chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh and he shook his head at a loss. Back onto the bed he eased himself down and propped Imrahil in his lap. Imrahil gave no protest and his father pressed his cheek against his head.
"You scared your sister you know."
There was a hint of disappointment and scorn in the words. Imrahil tensed against them.
"One of the maids came to get me from my meeting about what to do in order to relieve the people after such a disaster. She said your sister was in complete distress, crying."
In his lap Imrahil sunk down and scrunched in on himself, but his father's arms closed around him tighter and he knew he was stuck.
"She would not say much, not that I could understand, but she was sobbing about her legs and I heard your name in there. When I came to get you, you had locked and bared your door… Care to explain that? Or why I found you under the bed in a complete mess? You scratched Amenas something awful when he tried to pull you out."
That, Imrahil did not remember. He frowned and furrowed his face hard in thought. He thought he could recall banging on the door, but after that? He shook his head. Amenas was his father's seneschal and he could not recall seeing him once since he had been brought back. When he looked as it hands now, he could see blood under his left nails. Imrahil flinched. Yet another person he had hurt.
Adrahil must have taken his shaking head as a sign he refused to explain himself. He bounced his knee, jarring the boy in stern reprimand. "Imrahil… As a Prince you must take responsibility for your actions. You hurt Amenas yesterday and terrified your sister. Why?"
"I don't remember Amenas…" Imrahil mumbled. There was a rumble of frustration in Adrahil's chest and Imrahil started to curl up again.
"Alright, enough of this. You have been cooped up in here too long." With that Adrahil rose to his feet and strode out of the room, Imrahil in hand. Tentatively he waved at the members of the household staff who smiled or greeted them or gave well wishes for his health, but he was cowed by the stormy look on his father's face.
Through the foyer down the hall to the back where there was a large sitting room. Windows lined the wall from side to side and top to bottom. The view of the sea from there was stunning and it was meant as a greeting room for important nobility. Those not from the region were always awed and stunned by the view.
To Imrahil it just looked terrifying now.
When his father slipped out the doors onto the balcony and started down the steps to the sea Imrahil went into full panic.
"No!" He struggled as hard as he could. Feet kicked, body wiggled, and even his broken arm pressed hard against Adrahil till the man was forced to set him down out of fear he would hurt himself. His father watched stunned as he scrambled back up the steps towards the door.
With quick strides he caught up to his son and pressed a hand against the door, shutting it before Imrahil could get back inside. Uselessly Imrahil tugged on the handle and made a sound of fear. Confused Adrahil crouched down, making sure to keep the door pressed closed as his son was in near tears trying to get it back open. Wet silver eyes flashed fearfully towards the sea and Adrahil followed them.
He shook his head. "I do not understand. I thought you would like it out here. The sound of the water has always soothed your temper and fears… But you are afraid now."
Imrahil thumped a fist one last time feebly against the door and sank down and pressed himself back against it to get as far from the water as possible. He held himself in a quivering ball.
"I suppose I should have seen this coming," his father said in self recrimination. "The sea hurt you so you fear it now, but there is nothing to be afraid of Imrahil." One hand smoothed through the boy's hair, but he was barely listening.
He needed to get back inside, now. More importantly, he needed to get father back inside. Did father not realize the danger he was in? Any minute the sea could come and swallow them up. His heart raced. What if his struggles had made father fall down the stairs? He was dangerous.
Immediately he tried to scoot away from Adrahil and made a sound of frustration and upset when he father pulled him back and took him into his lap. The harder he fought the tighter his father held him till Adrahil was curled around him utterly and the sound of his singing cut over the distressed cries and grunts of his son.
Finally Imrahil worked himself into exhaustion and he lay against his father's chest panting. It occurred to him then that his father was singing, not just humming. Father never sang.
As the song wound to an end, Adrahil pressed his face into his son's hair and sighed. Then quietly he murmured, "Are you afraid of me too? You shy from my touch. Have I ever done anything to make my children fear me so?"
It had not occurred to Imrahil that his father would take it that way. Swiftly he shook his head.
"Then why do you struggle to get away from me now?" Confusion laced his father's voice.
Shame burned through Imrahil. How did he tell his father he was a murderer? That he had crippled his sister for life? Did Adrahil not see it? What would he do then when Imrahil opened his eyes to what he had done?
Too soft to be understood, Imrahil mumbled his terrible deeds. His father's chest shook with a snort of amusement. "I fear I cannot understand the voice of a little mouse." Tickling fingers ran up Imrahil's sides and pulled a laugh from him against his will.
"You will have to speak louder, Little Mouse."
Mirth fled as Imrahil bit his lip. A little louder he managed to mutter out his words, but still, Adrahil could not make sense of them. "Little Mouse…" he warned, though the tone kept its teasing.
The sea roared and Imrahil blurted, "I killed Merina."
He could feel his father go rigid under him. This was it. His father was going to cast him out. His father had always been a fair and kind man, but how could you be kind to a murderer? Perhaps they would lock him up like they did with other criminals. He shivered.
"What makes you say that?"
The question was not what Imrahil had expected and he blinked rapidly. When he spoke again there was hesitation in his voice that mingled with shame. "I ran down the beach away from the castle… She told us not to go far but… Because she chased after us, since I didn't listen she… she…" His breath hiccupped as he played with the ties of his father's sleep tunic, looking for the shell necklace tucked underneath.
"Imrahil… You—"
Before his father could condemn him though, he surged ahead. What point was there in dragging it out? If he was to be punished he might as well confess all his crimes now.
"And Finduilas is hurt because of me too! When the water pulled out to sea I walked after it because I was curious. She told me to come back, but I was slow to listen. If I had come back sooner we could have gotten to the city in time and she wouldn't have gotten her legs broken! And her hip! And now she'll never walk again and it's my fault!" His voice came out in a rushed wail.
Tightly Adrahil held him as he shook. This was it. His father's muscles trembled in anger and he would be lucky if the man did not strike him.
But no blow came. Slowly the world rocked as Adrahil leaned from side to side. "Shhh now… Shhhh."
His father did not sound angry… But how? Confusion marred Imrahil's face as he tried to meet his father's eyes, but Adrahil kept his head tucked under his chin as he hummed and shushed him.
"I- I didn't mean to-to scr-scratch Amenas. I don't- I don't remember do-doing that." His words were broken by quiet hiccups. "I couldn't get on my-my bed and the sharks and the-the dead people… They were go-going to eat me."
"No one is going to eat you my Sea Star. No one." A finger tapped his nose and he blinked in surprise.
"But—"
"And what happened to Merina and your sister is not your fault."
Imrahil was scooted around in his father's lap so the man could lean down and press their foreheads together. The child tried to shy from the touch, but a warm hand cupped the back of his head and held him there. Smooth gray and silver met.
"My son… What happened was not your fault, not ever. Finduilas certainly does not blame you. Yes, she is frightened and she will have some trouble ahead of her with her legs, but Fenrias thinks she is making a good recovery."
"Merina…" Imrahil whimpered.
His father sighed and closed his eyes, but when he opened them again they were unwavering and his voice was firm in his belief, "What happened to Merina was unfortunate, but not your fault. Should you stay close to the Palace when without supervision? Yes, but even if you had asked instead of running off she still would have gone with you down to the docks. What happened to Merina was an accident."
A hand stroked through Imrahil's hair reassuringly, "It has been many many many decades since something like that has ever happened. Most of us have long forgotten about such disasters outside of the tale of Numenor, and that certainly was not a normal happenstance. Even if the three of you had stayed here there is no telling if you would have gotten up the beach in time. I think then, it would have been even worse and I would have lost you all."
It made no sense in Imrahil's mind. So close to home how would they have not been safe? The steps were only just there. They could have swum to them, so he thought.
"I don't understand…"
His father smiled, though it was tinged with pain as his imagination ran ahead of him. "The cliffs here can be dangerous. If the three of you had not made it to the steps before the water it you would have been hit against them. Waves that crash against the rocks or cliffs are very dangerous and many have died in such conditions. So, in the end, going down where the beach is flat and free of rocks, I think you may have saved your sister and yourself from poor Merina's fate."
It still seemed preposterous to Imrahil, but his father was a smart man and so he would trust him, even if he did not fully comprehend why.
"As for Amenas, I think he has already forgiven you. You were quite scared last night."
The memory of his fear and the fact that people had born witness to it made Imrahil flush with embarrassment. At eight he should not be so scared of the dark, he told himself. He was a big boy, but still he remembered the pale shapes and shadows that dashed across the wall and the roar of the sea and he shivered.
Even big men were afraid of sharks and the dead, were they not?
He did not notice when his father had taken off his soft leather boots, but sudden he found himself being scooped up and tucked against his father's hip.
"Do you trust me?" his father asked.
Those words rarely boded anything good and Imrahil squinted at his father suspiciously before he gave a slow nod. His father always kept him safe. There was nothing to fear.
At least until Adrahil started going down the steps again.
Instantly panic bloomed in him and his heart seemed to fly. He made a keen whining sound and struggled to rise up in his father's arm, pressing back against the man's shoulder as if to get as far away from the sea as he could without literally crawling over his father's shoulder and running for it.
"Relax, relax. Just breathe. I have you, I promise."
Over and over his father repeated the soothing words, rubbing at his back when he could and periodically stopping on the stairs until at last he stepped out onto the sand.
The waves were big today, not overly so, but they rolled far up the beach, splashing up against the sea wall and throwing spray high into the air. Splatters of salt water periodically dripped down on them like rain.
Each droplet of water brought with it a flinch from the child who had stopped struggling, but exhibited so much distress that Adrahil stopped for fear Imrahil would have a full on panic attack or faint from hyperventilation.
Little panicked breaths puffed against his neck in rapid succession.
Imrahil was not sure how long they stood there. The sea roared and came at them again and again and each time he flinched back into his father and shied from it. In time, his pulled back less and less, but when Adrahil tried to take him closer, he would break into full panic.
Eventually as the sun rolled high overhead and noon had just passed, his father gave in and took him back inside.
The next day, Imrahil would not fall for the same trick.
"Oh really, it is not that bad. You know how much I would love to be out on the beach right now?"
"No!"
"Imrahil…"
"No!"
Adrahil pulled back from under Finduilas' bed. The second he had entered the room the boy had dove off his sister's bed and scrambled under it. For almost an hour now Adrahil had been trying to coax Imrahil out from under her bed, even so far as to offer to buy the boy a whole shelf full of sea shell trinkets and delicately carved drift wood figures. Imrahil's silver eyes simply scowled at him fearfully as he scooted further back.
Even Finduilas had put on a smile and a sing song voice to coax her brother out, but he refused.
With a dramatic sigh, Adrahil stood and said loudly, "Well, I guess that is it then. I will have to give up." He stepped out of the room with heavy footfalls.
After a few hesitant moments, Imrahil shuffled to the edge of the bed and pulled up the bed skirt. "Is he gone no—AHH!"
A pair of hands reached and grabbed his ankles sliding him out from under the bed before he was swung up into big arms. He could hardly protest before his father had swept him out of the room and down the curving stairs of the palace. In front of the maids and servants he did not want to put up a big fuss. He was already ashamed of his nightmares that plagued him and often had him running to Finduilas or his father's room. Even Ivriniel had woken to a trembling body launching itself on her at full speed.
Once he was outside though and out of sight of members of his father's staff, he struck up full protest.
"Please no!" He pushed against his father with his arm.
Adrahil did not listen and continued down the stairs with a determined face. The waves were calmer today and he was able to step down the smooth shell crusted steps crafted into the sea wall. Imrahil had crawled practically over his shoulder to escape.
When his father's feet splashed into the water he let out a panicked cry. Adrahil stopped with a wince as Imrahil repeatedly cried out.
"Shush, shush shush shush. Calm down Imrahil. It is okay! I swear to you! It is safe."
Imrahil would not listen and continued to struggle in his father's arms until he was completely worn out. It pained Adrahil to feel the race of that little heart against his shoulder, but he could not let his son's fear go on. They lived by the sea of Eru's sake. For the boy to grow up with a terrible fear of it would only cripple him in the end. He could not in good conscious leave the fate of Dol Amroth to a man terrified of the sea. It was fair to neither his son nor his people.
Bare legs laced with scabs and bound with cloth around still healing wounds locked tightly around Adrahil's waist as he repositioned the boy. There was no way he would get Imrahil down now without hurting him, but it was probably best. One thing at a time.
So Adrahil stood for hours, occasionally breaking the monotone by pacing up and down the surf. Once he bent down to splash water on the child and Imrahil had gone into a full fit. No amount of words seemed able to soothe the boy this time around and eventually Adrahil was forced to take him inside before the child hurt himself.
The nights were no better either. Mornings spent trying to tame his son's fear meant that Adrahil was faced with a near literal mountain of work come noon time. He opened the door to his study and stared balefully at the mound of work waiting for him.
Dol Amroth was a mess. It was a sea of disaster, if he were allowed a pun of such poor taste. There were hundreds upon hundreds of buildings in need of repair and some which needed to be rebuilt entirely. The only ships they had that were still in useable condition were their very largest and those that had been far out into the sea and the bay during the great wave. The shore was lined with broken hulls that needed to be removed. A few could be repaired. Most would need to be scrapped for rebuilding. The docks too were obliterated. Most of what remained of them was the broken stumps of pylons.
Then there were the bodies.
Every morning before anything else, particularly trying to lure Imrahil out, he scanned the shore for bodies. Still they were finding the dead washed up onto the shore. Many of them were utterly unrecognizable now with rot and bloat. He shuddered at the memories. There were so many to be identified and many more who simply could not be and were buried in unmarked graves. It had been decided with his councilors that a monument would be made for all the victims, identified and not.
He leant his head down and pressed it against the cool wood of his desk. He was only filled with immense gratitude that his son's name would not be among them like he had begun to fear. Adrahil felt near sick with relief.
Dinner was a hurried affair before Adrahil was back in his study leaving Imrahil to Ivriniel's care. He had lost track of time when there was a knock at the door. He glanced up and winced at the crick in his neck. Stiffly he rose to his feet and flexed out cramped fingers.
Ivriniel hovered at the door. "He is in bed now, but he is asking for you."
"Alright. Thank you Ivriniel." He smiled and pressed a kiss to her head. In her teenage years the girl was rather proud and independent and such signs of affection often brought embarrassment, but lately, she returned the affection in kind. Stress and fear, Adrahil had assumed. The damage done to her siblings in wake of the disaster had made her unsure. He felt one arm band around his waist in a hug before the girl quickly scampered off to her room.
Adrahil watched with a rueful smile. The temporary break in her willful independence streak was a nice change, though he wondered how long it would last.
When he entered Imrahil's room he found the child with every single candle or oil lamp in his room lit. The child himself was nothing but a quivering lump under the covers and Adrahil sighed sadly at the sight of him. This was going to be a long battle.
He eased himself onto the bed and rested his hand on the lump that was his son. Said lump gave a yelp and he smiled. Muffled words were lost in the covers.
"What was that Little Mouse?" Deft fingers found just the right spot and tickled at the lump mercilessly till Imrahil's head popped up from under the covers with a gasp and a giggle.
"Stop it!"
"Stop what?" Adrahil asked innocently. He smiled at the childish pout he received. A little hand darted up and across his neck and Adrahil laughed and ducked away from the child's revenge.
"Alright, alright to bed with you."
The words were met with an instant on set of stubbornness. Adrahil could recognize the hardening of that jaw anywhere. It was the same look his wife had gotten every time she had begun to dig her heels in. Of all the things his children had to inherit from his late wife, did it have to be her stubborn willfulness? Internally he braced himself for the battle to come.
"I am in bed."
"I see that. Come on, lay down. It is time to sleep."
"I'm not tired."
"Sure you are."
"Nope."
Adrahil tried not to roll his eyes. He pressed Imrahil back onto the bed and was glad the boy at least resigned himself to that. When he started to move around the room blowing out some of the candles, Imrahil bolted up again. "Oh! No! Don't do that!"
Lips pursed, Adrahil stopped in the middle and blinked bemused at his son as the flame flickered. Imrahil had never had trouble with the dark before. Why by the Valar did it have to start now, he wondered. On top of everything else it seemed a needless thing to lump on to their ill fate.
"You cannot leave all the candles lit Imrahil."
"Don't blow them out!"
Adrahil sighed. How did he explain to a child that they were very short on candles and lamp oil after the wave and that they need to use them sparingly? He set the candle back in the sconce and sat down again beside his son.
"Imrahil, we need to be careful with our candles."
The boy sunk down sullenly. Adrahil had a feeling he was trying to repress his shivers, but it was not working. "Why?" he asked.
"Well, right now there are a lot of people without candles, or even homes and we need all the candles we can get for them. We are still looking for people lost after that… storm, and they need the lamps to look for them. We lost a lot of our oil too after the water washed it away."
Guilt flashed across the child's face and he leaned against his father. "Oh…"
Guilt tripping the boy was not Adrahil's intention and he felt badly, but there was little else to be done for it.
"May I keep the two lamps on by my bed at least?" The question was timid and quiet in the flickering dark of the room.
With a ruffle of hair, Adrahil leaned over and gave the boy a squeeze. "Of course Little Mouse."
"Not a mouse," Imrahil grumbled, but his father only laughed and stood up so that he could tuck him in and darken the rest of the candles and lamps.
When Adrahil returned to his bed side to give him a last kiss goodnight he found a tiny fist clutched at his shirt.
"Papa… Do you have to go?"
"Yes, I do Imrahil. I have a lot of work that needs to be done to help others less fortunate than us." That little hand did not let go as Imrahil worked his best pleading look on his father. It just about worked, but slowly Adrahil uncurled his fingers from his shirt.
"Please!" Imrahil begged one last time, but a kiss was placed on his forehead and Adrahil stepped from the room quickly to hold whatever willpower he had left. The door shut with a click and on the other side he could hear a plaintive sound from the boy. He hovered by it for a moment half expecting it to open and his son to come running out after him, but it remained closed and he allowed himself a smile at his son's valiant attempt to be brave.
Of course, it could only last so long.
Hunched over his desk he froze for a moment when he thought he heard a scream. His brow furrowed as he tried to listen over the sound of the surf that hissed quietly outside his windows, but there was nothing. Only seconds after he had returned to work did he hear another followed by the patter of small feet. He was barely out of his chair when his door burst open and a small body launched itself at him. Adrahil sighed quietly as Imrahil clung to him and buried his face into his stomach.
"Hush now. There, there. You are safe with me Sea Star."
"The sharks were back and I got stuck in the water! I could not get my foot out!" Imrahil wailed muffled into his father's stomach.
Adrahil crouched down to hold the child to him and reassure him that no, there were no sharks, especially not in his room, and that he was safe at home now, not stuck out in the ocean any more. However, Imrahil refused to settle until Adrahil picked him up and sat him in his lap. The Lord of Dol Amroth stared at his paper work and then at the child curled in his lap half asleep.
Awkwardly he edged a piece of parchment towards himself and scribbled away until his arm began to cramp and tire. He set his pen down with a sound of frustration. This would not work at all. Several times he attempted to pry his son off and set him in his bed, but the little urchin clung tight. At last Adrahil had nothing left he could do but tug off his boots and lay in bed with the boy until he finally succumbed to sleep.
The next morning Adrahil woke bleary and exhausted to a half done pile of work that he knew would be stacked on top of what was to come today. He frowned down at the tiny sleeping body curled against his side. This could not keep happening.
That though, was a matter for later. He scooted Imrahil off to his room to change and before they broke their fast, he snatched his son up and made their fast becoming ritual trip down to the shore. He was pleased at least that Imrahil put up no protest until he stepped down from the sea wall.
"Please no. I don't want to go!"
Quiet refusals turned to pleas and then to frightened shouts as Adrahil waded into the water till it nearly lapped at his son's toes. At least, it would have lapped at his son's feet if the boy had not practically stood up in his arms and leant over his shoulder towards the shore.
"No!" he cried out and struggled.
Softly Adrahil twisted back and forth, rocking him as he hummed and tried to shush the child, but it seemed to do nothing to ease his distress. With one hand he leaned Imrahil against his shoulder and used the other to splash up water onto his son's leg. Some of his bandages became soaked, but it was a small thing. He had hoped that the touch of the water without pain would calm his son. Instead it seemed to send the boy into full panic.
Adrahil winced at the near shriek that Imrahil gave as the boy began to wail and hit at him with his arm. Whatever words of comfort Adrahil tried to give him were lost in his distress. Tremors wracked Imrahil's body as he sobbed against his father's shoulder.
"I want to go home! I want to go home! I don't want to be eaten! Let me go home!"
"Okay, alright. It is alright. Look, we're going back, see? We are going back to—" But Adrahil was barely out of the water by the time Imrahil finally broke free and dropped down to the sand and scrambled back towards the palace. He watched with a sad sigh as Imrahil stumbled up the steps and ran into the palace slamming the door behind him.
He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. How was he going to do this?
