The council had finally decided that, yes, they liked Thranduil's proposal, albeit with a few of their 'suggestions'. More like commands. But it was better than nothing. Presently, Thranduil and Irien were sitting at a table situated outside, just by the main road to the palace. Thranduil was hunched forward, running the feather of his quill across hand, checking the grammar of a letter to the Noldorin. Irien sat, devising a new drill for her troops.
Thranduil cocked his head to the side. He had been trained by Oropher to be constantly vigilant of sounds in the vicinity. Amid the normal sounds of the forest, birds chirping, swords ringing and arrows thudding in the training arena, he heard the sound of a familiar horse. Irien was watching him curiously.
Listen, he mouthed.
She paused for a moment, and her entire face darkened. But within a split second, a stiff smile was plastered onto her face.
"Adar," was all she said.
Seconds later, a powerful bay horse came cantering into the clearing. An equally, if not more powerful and proud rider sat in its saddle. He was perfectly balanced in the saddle, an experienced and skilled horseman. At his hip was a sword nearly as storied as Thranduil's own, intricately shaped and curved. Dark hair, as dark as Irien's was bright floated in his speed. Upon seeing the two, he slowed his pace.
Thranduil and Irien stood, she bowing respectfully to her father. Thranduil remained standing. The elf dismounted gracefully, leaping acrobatically onto the ground.
"Serindir," Thranduil said in greeting.
"My lord," he replied, touching a finger to his brow. He turned his gaze to his daughter. "Irien," he said finally.
"Adar," she replied. It was faint, but Thranduil could hear a certain stiffness in her voice. But her father didn't seem to notice.
"I see you are in good company," he said to her, flicking his dark eyes to Thranduil.
"Irien has been greatly helpful to me in my new position," Thranduil said.
Serendir nodded. "Well, good! As long as you are keeping up with your work as lieutenant!"
"Father, I am Captain of the Second Corps now," Irien said, the same tightness in her voice.
"Ah… And when did you receive your promotion?"
"Several hundred years ago," she replied quietly. "I wrote to you about it."
Her father waved it away. "Letters get lost," he said.
Thranduil internally frowned. He himself had delivered Irien's letter when he visited Serendir in Rivendell. Irien's father knew her little. Such an honor was important to Irien, not to be brushed away lightly.
The ambassador clapped a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I have meetings to prepare for," he said. "I shall speak with you later."
She nodded.
The Lord Serendir was soon off.
Thranduil turned to Irien, still staring at the dust kicked up by her father's horse.
"I don't want to talk about it," she told him shortly.
He held up a hand in a gesture of surrender, returning to the table. But he could not banish the image of the lonely girl at the side of the road, gazing forlornly at the road into the distance. Thranduil turned his head to the stars, just beginning to peek out of the sky as the sun set. His parents were somewhere out in the west. But Thranduil decided it was much better than having a mother that didn't recognize him, or a father that didn't care. So he tread up to Irien again. Maybe they would find their way out of this confusing mess of life. And maybe, just maybe, they would find their way out together.