AN: Sorry for the long wait, my glasses broke so I had to repair them and then my muse took a vacation, and then….Well, you get the idea.
Warnings: Slight Gandalf bashing. I like Gandalf but sometimes he frustrates me, especially in the Hobbit movies so that made it easy to bash him a little. Plus, I couldn't do the scene requested by stn5 without bashing Gandalf a little.
{Thranduil}
This night is endless, Thranduil reflected, walking out of his tent for the fourth time since sunset. He was restless, a strange feeling for one of his years to have but it stirred within him nonetheless. His restlessness irked and troubled him, for he could not shake the feeling that tomorrow would not be as easy as he had originally thought it to be.
The elf king walked through the quiet streets, heading for the ramparts where he could overlook the intended battlefield once again. His people and Men, sleeping what hours they could before the dawn came, united in a common cause that promised to forge a union of friendship that would last for several years. This was Thranduil's wish, to make Mirkwood and its surrounding allies strong, for he knew not when he would sail and all must be prepared for when Legolas took the crown.
Would that it were day.
The night air was still, the wind having died down a couple hours ago and a silent calmness had settled over the countryside. It was a sham though, this stillness, making one think all was peaceful when in reality a drawn back bow strong waited to be let loose. The far off dawn would bring a shattering to this pretentious quiet when the war trumpets sounded.
The king's elven warriors stood along the wall, alert, and they gave him only the slightest of bows as he passed. Thranduil was not offended of course; these sentries had more important things to be focusing on paying homage to him. Coming to one of the gates, the elf king was surprised to see his only female captain, Tauriel, idly checking the arrows in her quiver as a small smile lit her face and her eyes held a far-off almost dreamy look. He paused, never before having seen such an expression on his adopted daughter's face and he wondered the cause of it.
"You do not watched the stars tonight?"
She startled, looking up at him with a guilty countenance that amused him, "My king?"
"Always, even when you were a child, you would gaze up at the stars whenever you were outside and I dubbed you my little stargazer." Thranduil's tone turned admonishing, "And I am not wearing my crown, fire of my eyes, there is no need to be so formal."
She dipped her head, "Forgive me, father."
"Such a request in unnecessary, my little firelight," Thranduil murmured, a hand gently cupping her chin to bring her gaze up. "My forgiveness is immediate in all affairs linked to my children. If it were not so I do believe you and Legolas would have fared far worse after pulling that fiasco in the kitchens two hundred years ago. I know the cooks have yet to forget it, for they still refuse to bake that delicious blackberry pie of which I was so fond of."
Tauriel smiled, "Was?"
"Well, after having been denied even the smallest taste of it for two hundred years I find that I have quite forgotten why I used to like them so much." Thranduil shook his head, "I suppose the cooks thought it fitting to retaliate against me the only way they could since I was so light in my punishment on the both of you."
Tauriel laughed, her eyes flashing in mock indignation, "Light? Father you made us clean the kitchen from ceiling to floor, and scrub almost every stairway in the palace! Legolas and I could hardly stand up straight afterwards." She narrowed her eyes in good humor, "Then you scheduled us for training review the next day for a whole week."
An imperial smirk graced Thranduil's face, "And the cooks' domain has not been touched since and I have not been denied any other of my favorite foods, so I would say that it was a lesson well learned." The elf king looked Tauriel over; noticing the drawn look that had become a permanent feature on her face since the spiders had increased their onslaught was now fading. "Something is different about you tonight, my daughter," he observed, and was amused to see her raise an eyebrow in complete imitation of him. "There is a glow around you," he clarified and found the sudden reddening of her cheeks a fascinating study.
Deciding to let the matter rest, for he sensed that she needed more time to understand her heart, Thranduil turned to look out across the plains leading to the gate of Erebor. "I am leaving a contingent of archers to man the walls while I lead the rest of the army, along with Lord Bard to Oakenshield's broken keep."
"You expect trouble from another quarter, father?"
"There should not be, not with my finest warriors going up against twelve dwarves, yet my heart warns me to be cautious and not to trust how things appear. Mithrandir came with warnings of a storm, danger manifesting at Dol Guldur and so I would prefer my finest archers to defend the city should the tides turn against in the morn." The elf king looked at her, his countenance stern but his eyes speaking of his love for her, "I want you to take command of them."
Tauriel's almond shaped eyes widened in disbelief, "You… You want me to stay behind?"
"I can trust to no one else this important task, Tauriel," Thranduil assured her. "It may very well come down to Dale needed to be defended, for not only has this city become a home for Lord Bard's people, but the women and children will remain behind when we march on Erebor, and they cannot be left defenseless." He took her face in his hands, "If the warnings in my heart ring true, there will be more will come to pass tomorrow than a short skirmish on Oakenshield's company. I need to know that the way back to Dale is clear, and that the city could not be safer in anyone else's hands than yours, my fire-gem."
Tears of disappointment, that she could not ride beside her father and brother in the morning, prickled her eyes, yet Tauriel fought off her dark thoughts with Thranduil's words. She hoped that whatever the king feared to pass would not happen, but she knew the wisdom in being prepared and while Thranduil and Legolas struck with the sword she would be the shield, keeping Dale safe should the army need to return quickly. Reluctantly, Tauriel accepted her king's command and nodded her head. Thranduil smiled, bending her down so he could kiss her temple.
"Come, Tauriel, let us rest before the dawn comes."
Together, Thranduil and Tauriel descended from the wall and headed towards the king's tent. The elf king relished this peaceful time with his daughter, quietly walking side-by-side without needing to relay reports or strategize over the best way to clean out the spiders. These moments had become few and far between once Tauriel had started her training, and they had almost become non-existent when she had become a captain. Thranduil felt slightly guilty at having withdrawn from her life and not made time just to be with his daughter, not one of his captains. He had done so because Tauriel had needed to prove herself to the other captains, and Thranduil knew she would never gain their respect if it appeared she needed her surrogate father to hold her hand every step of the way.
Father and daughter passed near the war tent, and Thranduil stopped mid-step as he saw Legolas walk by an opened panel. Could neither of his children sleep on their own without him tucking them in personally? However, just as Thranduil was about to comment on this to Tauriel, he noticed a second shadow outline against a tent flap, the one holding a staff. Raising a hand, the elf king signaled to Tauriel to be silent and they walked quietly towards the war tent.
"Surely you have thought of traveling outside of Mirkwood, Prince Legolas? Seeing the Last Homely House of Lord Elrond? The shining white city of Gondor? Have you not thought of visiting Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel in Lothlorian, the Golden Wood is one of the few places in Middle-Earth that has not been touched by the changes of time. It is as it was when the Lady of Light and her husband first made it their home, a truly beautiful place to see." Thranduil narrowed his eyes at Mithrandir's words. "Even in the western north there are sights worth seeing amongst the wilds of Eriador and the lost realm of Arnor. The Dunedain, rangers of the north, have become legendary for their skill with the bow, I am sure they would welcome your company for the sons of Elrond ride frequently with them."
"I am a prince of Mirkwood, Mithrandir," Legolas replied, "I cannot just simply drop everything and leave on the whim for an adventure as your Halfling did. Yes, one day I would like to see other realms, especially those of elven kin, but I cannot leave my father and king while the threat of war hangs over this land. While spiders infest our woods my father will need every warrior of his army to rid our home of them."
"Yet surely your father does not think you can stay forever in Mirkwood? Even he journeyed around Middle-Earth when he was a prince. He even took part in the Last Alliance, after performing such great deeds he cannot begrudge you the chance to find your own path."
"Are you accusing me of holding my children back, Mithrandir?" Thranduil walked into the war tent, Tauriel following him. The old wizard leaned heavily on his staff at the king's entrance, and Legolas looked guiltily at his father though the elf king blamed him not. "Does the White Council think I keep my children locked away in a tower without any means to leave?" Thranduil's words were as sharp as steel, cutting through the air like a sword and Gandalf gathered his grey cloak about him like a shield but the elf was not fooled. "You mentioned the Last Alliance, what a glorious campaign were elves and men banded together against the Sauron, the victories and honor bestowed upon those who participated is always mentioned and remembered. The fallen are forgotten; the repercussions in the wake of the 'adventure' are glossed over in the history books, but not so in Mirkwood. We remember the fall of Oropher, the Men who betrayed us to the Enemy; even our elven kin were too busy arguing over the weakness of Isildur to aid us as we limped home. Did any of them come forward when my queen fell to a dragon and my face was burnt? Where were they when Smaug took residence here and kept elves and Men fearfully watching the skies for the past fifty years? The White Council," Thranduil's voice was full of contempt, "has far more loftier goals to pursue. The other realms are always requesting aid, but should I be in need myself they are too busy to come." Thranduil stepped towards Gandalf until he was looking down at the bent wizard, "Should either my son or daughter wish to travel I will give my blessing, yet I have made no secret of the fact that I prefer they stay here where they know no one will manipulate them or betray them. Sent by the Valar you might have been, Mithrandir, and I respect you for your power and the deeds you have performed, but try to turn my children against me again and Mirkwood shall be closed to not only you but all the rest of your kind, even the brown wizard." Thranduil turned away, placing a hand on his son's shoulder and another of his daughter's, "You should be worrying more about the fates of your dwarves and Halfling than poking your nose into my affairs."
The elf king steered his children out of the tent and it was now the middle of the night. Fury coiled within Thranduil, his anger, always so quick to ignite, was once again seeking an outlet but he wrestled for control. Neither of his children was to blame for Mithrandir's behavior, and he refused to take out his foul temper on them. Tauriel was leaning towards him, she had never expressed a wish to travel outside of Mirkwood though he had seen a yearning in her eyes that nothing in their home could satisfy. Legolas, on the other hand, had more of his mother's wandering spirit, and had often spoken of visiting places he had only read about.
Thranduil knew the day would come when his son would leave, and the elf king knew he could not stop him but that day was not here yet.
If only the morning would dawn and this wretched night end. Now the peaceful quiet was a mockery, the words spoken in the war tent left a bad taste in everyone's mouths, including Thranduil. The elf king had taken little pleasure in cutting Gandalf down like that, the Istar commanded respect but Thranduil found he had very little to give anymore, perhaps Gandalf's part in this affair with the dwarves was the reason.
Once in his tent, Thranduil bid both of his children good night and watched them depart for their own sections. The elf king poured himself a glass of wine, relishing in the taste as it drove the bitterness away and mellowed his dark thoughts. Gandalf would not be forgiven for this, but Thranduil's anger had cooled and his stormy blue eyes had calmed. No wizard's life would be threatened this night, and Radagast would keep his home.
If only morning would come, and with it the end of this sordid adventure of Gandalf's making.
AN: Thoughts, anyone? Who liked the Thranduil/Tauriel bonding? Hope to get a longer chapter out next time, as that's when the fighting will start.
