Forest East of Tower Hills. August 11, Second Age 145
THRANDUIL hopped off his horse and approached a line of the forest where trees stood thickly like a wall.
"We have to leave the horses here. The path is completely overgrown." Thranduil turned to Elrond. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
Smiling broadly Elrond stepped into a slight gap between the crowded group of trees pulling aside the overgrown bush in front of him.
Four months ago, Lord Celeborn and Aron left the Grey Havens to lead the Dwarves to the east. Apparently, Lord Celeborn had been as anxious as Thranduil for the news of his father. As for Aron, Thranduil was sure Lord Cirdan sent him to escort Lord Celeborn knowing his grandnephew needed some time away from Lindon.
Letting out a long sigh, Thranduil trudged after Elrond. It was not that he didn't want to go into the forest. The incident with the trolls was not that long ago and Fangorn had a long memory. But the last time Thranduil saw the head Tree Herder, the Ent was near the Misty Mountains. Besides, Lord Gilmagor didn't give him a choice. And, even if the swordmaster did not command it, Thranduil was an officer of the Royal Guards and Elrond, being the member of the royal household, was his charge.
What is the chance of meeting Fangorn here? The forest in Eriador is vast and there are many Ents.
"Elrond, wait. It is nearly impossible to go through the forest this time of the year. Let's walk the trees." Thranduil gingerly picked off a stray thorn bush hooking itself onto his left arm.
With the vigorous growth of the summer, the path that Lord Celeborn and the Dwarves took was overgrown and almost non-existent.
Elrond turned around with a frown.
"Follow me," Thranduil said then reached up to a low-lying branch of a beech tree near him.
Elrond did not hesitate to follow. And despite Thranduil's fear, Elrond was a fast learner. At first, their progress was slow. Elrond took time balancing then tiptoeing over each branch, but soon the Half-Elven was running over the branches keeping pace with Thranduil.
"The trees here, they sing most beautifully." Elrond stepped beside Thranduil looking around with obvious joy on his face. The Half-Elven looked so much like Elwing, Thranduil took in a quick breath.
Elrond swung himself onto the branch above them, but Thranduil dared not go further up. With his current weight, the Sinda feared he may injure the thinner branches. As was, the trees did not appreciate Thranduil's heavy tread over their limbs.
"So, where are the Ents?" Elrond looked around, his face flushed and eyes shining.
"I told you, Elrond. You don't find Ents, they find you."
"I was hoping I ran into one by now. I suppose we should find somewhere to rest."
"There is still enough sunlight to travel."
"Aren't you the one who said that a forest is unpredictable? We should make a camp before it gets too dark."
Thranduil looked up at the sky. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the dense green foliage, but he knew how darkness came suddenly when you were in a forest. But, Thranduil did not want to make camp. All through the travel to the Grey Havens and through their guard duty at the Tower Hills, Elrond had been pensive and silent. But Elrond wasn't done. Thranduil could feel it. After what he confessed to the Half-Elven after the wine incident, Thranduil tried to get as far away from Elrond as possible, but Lord Gilmagor made that impossible.
"We need to find a clearing. You are not conditioned to sleep on a tree branch, and we shouldn't sleep too near the tree roots."
"Why?"
"Because, Elrond, some may be Huorns and they can be naughty."
"How do you know which are Huorns?"
"We don't."
"Is it true that there are none in the forests of Lindon? That, they became inanimate without Ents to wake them up and talk to them?"
"I suppose. I don't know. All I know is that here in Eriador, there are many, and you need to be careful."
"What is that I hear above us?"
With surprising speed for someone new to the tree-walking, Elrond climbed up another branch and disappeared from Thranduil's view.
"You have to come up here, Thranduil. There are birds and butterflies. It's… It's beautiful…"
The sound muffled. It was obvious Elrond had climbed even further up.
Thranduil let out a long sigh and shook his head. It was as if they were back in Sirion and Elrond was little again. The Half-Elven was, after all, Earendil's brood. Elrond had turned grave with time, but Thranduil feared that at core Elrond had much of his father in him.
"Come down, Elrond. I thought you want to find a place to rest."
Thranduil squinted up the tree branch when he heard a` sound of many wings. A squirrel squeaked and ran down, then jumped onto the next tree.
"Elrond," Thranduil called out as the branch where he stood moved suddenly. Thranduil swerved, grabbing the nearest branch for support when from above Elrond laughed out aloud.
"Stupid Noldo," Thranduil muttered to himself. "Perhaps, you could give him a bit of scare. Nothing too drastic, but you know." Thranduil patted the tree branch.
The leaves shimmered in the fading sunlight. The laughter of the tree filled Thranduil's head.
"Of course, he wouldn't be hurt. He is a warrior. It would take a lot to knock him off his feet. Besides, the shepherd is not here, is he? How would the Ent know? I sure am not going to tell him."
The leaves rustled and the tree swerved as if a strong wind swept past it.
"Whoa!" Elrond grasped the branch just above Thranduil's head, then jumped down onto where Thranduil stood. "Was there a gust?" Elrond turned to Thranduil. "I didn't feel any wind, but the tree moved."
Thranduil shrugged. "As I said, some trees are dangerous."
"Well, I saw a small glade not too far from here. Let's rest there for the night."
Smiling, Elrond jumped down to the floor below. Thranduil let out another sigh and followed the Half-Elven.
The round glade Elrond found was filled with fragrant grasses and carpeted with sun-yellow flowers. At the edge of the clearing, crab apple trees and tall blackthorns heavily laden with fruit and berries stood all around the glade almost like a barrier. Just off the center of the glade several granite boulders stood covered in bright green moss. Water trickled down from one of the horizontal rocks and fell into the ground in a melodious murmur forming a small brook that flowed toward a thick cluster of willows.
"Look, Thranduil. "There is a clear bowl of water in the depression in this rock. A spring, I think, sprouts from the crack here." Elrond went near the water and sniffed. "It is fragrant, almost minty."
On the surface of the water floated petals of the yellow flowers that grew abundantly in the clearing. Elrond picked up one of the flowers. "I think the fragrance comes from this flower. Have you seen this before? I think it may be one of the medicinal herbs used by the healers. I think I have seen Mistress Taurien using it to help her patients relax." Elrond handed it to Thranduil. "Do you know anything about this?"
Thranduil took the flower from Elrond's hand.
"Something about this is familiar," Thranduil muttered more to himself than to Elrond. He chewed on the yellow petal. A sweet and minty flavor filled his mouth.
His mother had spent years trying to teach Thranduil all the properties of the many plants she found in Middle Earth. According to her, all the plants in Middle Earth had a counterpart in Aman but the ones in Middle Earth developed unusual properties trying to survive in the changing conditions around them. His mother had filled her journal with the pictures and dried specimens of the many plants. She said she had spent many years at the Garden of Lorien tending to the flora and fauna there as a student to both Vala Este and Vala Yavanna.
Combining her extensive knowledge of plants and healing, she had made potent potions and poultices that helped in healing and mending.
Elrond filled his waterskin using his other hand to brush away the yellow petals. Thranduil filled his as well. Afterward, they sat on a half-buried rock which was surrounded by a cluster of the same yellow flowers.
"I think there was something about this flower in her journal."
"Journal? What journal?"
Thranduil grabbed the leather rope around his neck.
"Your mother's?"
Thranduil nodded. Her journal was the only other thing of his mother he had of her besides the necklace. He treasured it along with her necklace and his grandfather's long knives his father had given him. The journal was not meant to be his, however. His mother had meant to gift it to Elwing on the princess's thirty-fifth begotten day. The journal was written in Quenya and Elwing's mastery of the language was not the best, but she had gotten better after she married Earendil. And unlike Thranduil, she had shown interest in the healing arts. But, the attack at Sirion happened a few days shy of Elwing's begotten day. She had never gotten to see his mother's present to her.
Thranduil's throat tightened. He took a long draught from the waterskin, emptying it as if he was parched. His chest tightened. Will this pain ever go away?
Elrond's hand landed on Thranduil's shoulder.
Thranduil turned away. "Maybe we should move closer to the stream to make fire. It is already getting quite dark." Thranduil tried to stand up, but Elrond's hand pulled him down.
"It is too warm for a fire."
Elrond threw up a ball of light which brightened the clearing instantly. They were not the same dim light Thranduil saw at the Dwarven ruin. They were brilliantly white with almost a rainbow hue to it and pulsed with the clarity of the Evening Star.
"You found your light. It is even brighter than before." Thranduil gazed at Elrond's light.
"I thought my light was dimmer than others because I was not fully Elven." Elrond waved the light away. It floated upward to settle on the top of the tallest boulder and brightened the glade like a ray of moonlight.
Envy pricked Thranduil's heart. When will he find his own light? Will he ever be able to produce it again the way he used to? As Thranduil's eyes trailed the light, tiny lights began to appear. Fireflies. Thousands of them filled the clearing, droplets of moonbeams twinkling like stars in the ever-darkening forest.
Even insects had their lights. Thranduil watched the swarm of lights that flickered all around them, too grieved to even envy them.
"You will find yours," Elrond said with such conviction in his voice, Thranduil's heart pinched. Would Elrond believe it if he knew what happened at Menegroth? Sirion was bad enough, but what he did at Menegroth was worse. Thranduil turned away, pretending to rummage through his pack.
"You will, Thranduil."
Thranduil could not look at Elrond. "Some may not agree."
"I don't blame you. And, neither would my mother."
Thranduil's heart wrenched painfully. He wanted to believe that. But believing it didn't make it real. "You didn't even know her."
"But you did. You knew her. You said she was like me. Would she have blamed you? You know the answer, don't you, Thranduil? She loved you as much as you loved her. She would not have wanted you to suffer. She would not want you to blame yourself. I am sure of it."
The travel pack in front of him blurred. He turned to look at the stream that ran to his left. The iron claw in his chest tightened.
"How could she forgive me? I let her down. I failed her. I went against her wishes and lost you two. Had I not forgotten about leaving you and your brother at the cave, at the least, we could have saved both of you."
"You were injured, and you lost your mother. I don't think anyone in your position would have thought of anything else."
Thranduil shook his head. Elrond did not know.
"You were barely out of the majority, a child still. What happened should not have happened to anyone. No one blames you, Thranduil. Least of all, my mother."
"You don't know that. You never see anything bad in anyone."
"How I wish that were true." Elrond let out a sigh. "And, I wanted to believe it was as easy as just telling myself that everything was alright. I wished I had the wisdom to let things go. Genuinely let them go. But the truth was I hid my true feelings deep inside me and ignored them. I thought with time I could forget them. But I know now that I didn't, and I wouldn't." Elrond yanked open the neck of his leather armor. "Do you think it was a goodness that made me accept my foster fathers?"
Thranduil turned to Elrond, but the Half-Elven dropped his head.
"It wasn't. I lied to myself that I accepted everything, that everything was all right, but…." Elrond turned away, hiding his face. "I think I harbored resentment at my father, at my mother, even at Elros for leaving me." Elrond was silent for a moment, then continued. "I tried to excuse my father's abandonment of us, but I never knew my father. He was never there. I hardly remember him."
When Elrond turned to face Thranduil, his eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"Do you know what I noticed living among the Eldar? It was how precious they thought of their children. Soldiers do not leave for war when their children are born. It is normal for their lords to expect their soldiers to place child-rearing above all else. My parents lived amongst them. Yet, my brother and I were just two years old when my father left us for the sea." Elrond picked up a stone and threw it at the stream. "Do you know why I called Maglor my father? It had nothing to do with forgiveness. What would an eight-year-old know about forgiveness?" Elrond scoffed, something he did rarely. "That's right. It took me only two years to call the Elf who attacked my mother and killed my father's people 'father.' People will never understand it, and I don't expect them to, but Maglor…he filled the void that my father left in us. With him, I felt loved and safe. He comforted us when we were afraid. And…I didn't realize until now how angry I had been at my own father and also at my mother. It was fortunate that we were children of Edain and not real Elflings. Had we been fully Elven, we would not have been able to form that parent-child bond with Maglor no matter how much I wanted it. And I wanted it, Thranduil. People told me about how great my father was, what a hero he was, the great deed he accomplished. But, do you know? I didn't want a hero. I just wanted a father, someone to love us, protect us, keep us safe." Elrond looked up then averted his eyes. "Quite selfish. Not at all noble."
Elrond took in a long breath then closed his eyes. The night filled the glade, and the melody of the forest swelled as the swarms of flickering lights thickened. Thranduil swallowed the hard lump in his throat. He wanted to reach out but balled his hand instead and took a long draught from his waterskin.
"You were just a child, Elrond. It was the duty of the parents and the guards to keep the children safe. Elwing gave me that duty when she decided to lure those soldiers away from you two. It was my duty to take both of you to safety and to guard you until Lord Cirdan's ships arrived. I let you and your brother down. I let Elwing down."
"Were you my mother's guard? Were you even a warrior at the time? You would have barely passed your majority, still no more than a child."
"It doesn't change the fact that I…."
"But, it does. How could anyone expect a lad just barely out of childhood to fight three warriors from the Feanorian army? Among all the famed warriors of the First Age, Feanorians were the best. Wounded as he was, Astarno alone could have killed everyone at the back of the manor, but he didn't."
"That is where you are wrong." Thranduil felt the heat prick his skin. "There were three Gondolin guards by the gate of the garden. Your Feanorians killed them before coming up the steps to where we were."
"No, Thranduil. That may have been what it looked like, but Astarno told me that he knocked them out before the warriors who accompanied him and Amras could kill them."
"And, he also tried to shoot me with his bow. I survived only because one of my father's captains was there and took the arrow himself to save me."
Elrond shook his head. "Thranduil, listen to me. Astarno told me about that, too. He was aiming for the dagger in your hand, to stop you from striking Amras. To you, it was a fact that Astarno tried to kill you, but that was far from the truth. All truth may be facts, but not all facts are the truth. Some facts, ones that arise from our own observations and experiences, are not always the truth. Captain Astalder taught me that, that we cannot divine truth from one set of facts. Have you already forgotten that the fact your hand struck Gelir was not the truth? That it took sorting through several sets of facts to find the real truth that it was Sauron who killed Gelir?"
"You will still defend the kinslayers?"
"Don't ask me to do otherwise, Thranduil," Elrond looked up, his face grave. "They are kinslayers to you, but they were fathers to Elros and me, a family to us. I will not allow anyone to shame me into disowning them or into denying that I love them. And Astarno was an important member of my foster family."
In the flicker of tiny lights all around them, Elrond's eyes swam like raindrops about to burst. The look of hurt in Elrond's eyes doused the anger in Thranduil's heart. It reminded Thranduil of Elwing's eyes when she came to confront his anger at her for wanting to marry Earendil. Thranduil had said hurtful things, things he regretted afterward.
"Who am I to judge?" Thranduil turned away to follow the swam of lights that flickered and danced.
He heard Elrond let out a breath as if he had held it for a long while. Thranduil wondered if Elrond was surprised because he was surprised at himself. He expected anger to burn inside, but the heat did not come. Instead, he saw that he was no different from the Feanorians. They may have blood on their hands, but his hands were no less bloody.
"Thank you. I mean that." Elrond's voice was almost a whisper. "I know it is not easy for you to hear it. It is not easy for me to say it. Here in the Grey Havens and in Lindon, the first thing the people say to me is what a horrible monster my foster parents are. They expect me to denounce my foster parents as if the years I spent with them did not exist." There was a pause and Thranduil turned to look at Elrond. "Thank you, also, for forgiving Astarno. I know he couldn't express it, but it meant so much to him. And if you can forgive Astarno, then, you can forgive yourself for whatever guilt you carry with you. I see how much burden the past is on you."
"My burden? That is different."
Thranduil drained his waterskin then approached the rock basin. The water felt cold in his hands as he scooped up a handful of water and washed his hands. If Elrond only knew how bloody his hands were, would he still be able to talk of forgiveness?
"It is not different. You knew what the odds were, but you did the best you could. You told me yourself that you did what you thought was the best at the time. How could anyone ask for more than that? No guard, no matter how powerful a warrior, would have been able to do better than you did at Sirion. Let it go, Thranduil. What happened there was not your fault."
Thranduil shook his head. Elrond did not know the full extent of what he had done. Sirion was just one place.
"You cannot carry the weight of this guilt with you. Winter has come and gone. It is time for the Spring, the sun and the flowers."
"You do not know." Thranduil grasped the edge of the stone basin trying his best to shut out the sound of the queen's scream, the twins crying out for their mother.
The lights of the fireflies dimmed growing fainter and lager. The glade filled with the smell of blood and smoke.
"I did more than just let Elwing down. She can't forgive me. Not after what I had done at Menegroth."
"At Menegroth? You were a mere child then. What could you possibly have done?"
Thranduil turned away from Elrond. He had said too much. He always spoke too much with Elrond.
"Enough. No more." Thranduil stood to walk away, but Elrond blocked him.
"Not this time." There was a familiar look in Elrond's gray eyes, and Thranduil was afraid.
"I can't, Elrond."
"Yes, you can. Talk to me. Do the Onen Calad with me. Let me help you as you have helped me. If it wasn't for you, I don't know how long I would have carried this anger I had for my parents. Before I met you, I didn't even know that I was angry with them. I would have buried everything inside me and never questioned it. Without you, I may not have wanted to learn about my mother and her people."
"You would have known about your mother eventually."
"And who would have known my mother enough to tell me about her? Lord Cirdan? Lord Celeborn? None of them would have known enough about her to tell me."
Thranduil shook his head. His throat clenched. The sudden thirst seized him, and that familiar pain sizzled through his left arm. Thranduil grabbed it.
"What's wrong? Your arm again?" Elrond took hold of Thranduil's arm. "It shouldn't bother you now. Does Mistress Taurien know?"
Thranduil pulled away. "It's nothing. The pain comes and goes." Thranduil did not tell anyone how the pain had flared in the last few months. Mistress Taurien knew Thranduil blocked her from his mind. She made it clear to him that she knew he was keeping things from her, but she did not pry, nor did she push.
"But that wound is lasting much too long. We should have Mistress Taurien look it over."
Thranduil filled his empty waterskin, then drank another handful of water. The scent was so familiar. There was something about it that he had forgotten. He looked up and almost lost his footing. The forest seemed to move like waves. Somewhere in the night, there was a tinkling of crystals in the wind.
Elrond took off the cork of his water skin and took it to his lips.
"Wait, Elrond. Don't." Thranduil knocked the waterskin off Elrond's hand.
The trees laughed as the woods closed in around him as the world around him swayed, then darkened. Thranduil looked up. The tiny lights around the trees shimmered. Like twinkling of crystals. Thranduil blinked. Sounds of chimes, silver bells and crystals trilled in the air. The darkness dissipated and it was as if he was under a canopy of a large tree on a bright summer day. Shimmers of light bounced off the crystals. Petals of white flowers floated on the silver waters of the fountain that stood in the middle of the hall.
Thranduil breathed in.
He knew this place, knew every part of this place from the white marble floors dotted with green gems to the colorful hangings on the walls woven by the Great Lady herself.
Thranduil let out a breath.
He looked up at his hand held within a golden gauntlet. His eyes went past the gauntlet up at the tall Elf in golden armor.
No, no, no, no! Thranduil's head screamed, but he was just an observer. The child he was smiled up at the hateful Elf, the one who was called Kurvo.
The queen, in her gossamer white gown, got up from the settee when they entered the hall.
"I brought help," Thranduil said, his chest filling with pride.
"The queen?" Kurvo looked down at Thranduil.
"Queen Nimloth." Thranduil tried to run to the queen, but the stranger kept a firm grip on his hand preventing Thranduil from stepping away. The queen looked at them with questions in her silver eyes.
The one with a dark face next to Kurvo made an elaborate bow.
"We have come to join in your Midwinter celebration, Your Majesty. Come with us, please, as we have orders to accompany you and the princes," he said and looked around. "Where are your children?"
"What is happening?" The queen surveyed the heavily armed warriors. "Where is Captain Farvael?"
"Indisposed, I believe," said Kurvo. "We do not have much time. There is an invasion."
The queen and the ladies gasped.
Just then, Thranarin stepped into the hall from the door leading to the residences. "My Lady," Thranarin addressed the queen. "I heard noises." Thranarin faced the Noldorin warriors.
The golden armored warriors behind Kurvo moved silently as Thranduil watched tilting his head. A third of them stood guard by the entrance to the hall, others stepped into the hall and stationed near the door to the residences where Thranarin emerged.
"How did you get in here? Where are our guards?" Thranarin looked at Thranduil. "Come here, Thranduil."
"They are Nargothrond guards. They said they are going to help us protect everyone." Thranduil moved toward his brother, but the tall stranger who held his hand pulled him back. Thranduil looked up at the Noldorin warrior. "That's my brother," he said, but the Noldorin warrior didn't seem to hear.
"Where are the princes?" Kurvo asked, then pulled Thranduil closer to his side.
"Forgive me if I sound rude, but you have not introduced yourself. Is it a custom of the Noldor to ask questions without first introducing themselves?" Thranarin moved next to the queen.
"And, who are you, boy?" Kurvo lifted his eyebrow.
"Show some respect, sir." The queen scowled. "This is Lord Thranarin, the Lord Protector of the Princes. And you are?"
Kurvo scoffed. "Lord Protector? Quite a title. Where are the princes?"
The queen's eyes flashed, but Thranarin stepped in before the queen could say anything.
"Our princes are not here," Thranarin said giving the queen a look who glanced at the Noldorin warriors as they made a circle around the ladies. "They have left earlier. If you come with me, I will take you to them. Please allow our ladies to finish their preparations undisturbed." Thranarin reached for Thranduil. "He is but a child. Let him stay with the ladies."
"I want to come, too." Thranduil puffed out his cheeks and looked up at Thranarin.
The queen frowned, then glanced at Thranarin, then at the Noldorin warriors.
"We would like Her Majesty to join us. I insist," said Kurvo his eyes on Thranarin.
Thranarin's hand moved toward the hilt of his sword, but the queen placed her hand on it. "Let the child stay with the ladies and I will go with you. Lord Thranarin, stay with the ladies, please."
"But, your…"
The queen held up her hand stopping the young Sindarin warrior. "Do your duty, Lord Thranarin. They say they are here to join our festivities." She turned to Kurvo and smiled. "Your warriors should escort me," the queen said.
"We also need to take the children," the dark-faced one said.
"You heard Lord Thranarin. They have left previously. Didn't whoever told you about them mentioned that?" Nimloth lifted her chin looking every bit a queen. "Now, lead the way."
But, Thranarin stepped in front of Nimloth inserting himself between her and the dark-faced Noldo.
"There is no need to involve the ladies, is there?" Thranarin said. "You are from the blessed land. Warriors honorable and wise. Please, let her and the child be."
It was then a shout exploded from the doorway from somewhere beyond the corridor. One of the several Noldor stationed just outside the Hall walked in and said in Quenya. "We do not have much time, my lords. They can't hold the door for much longer."
"Grab her," the dark-faced one commanded in Quenya to the warrior next to him.
Thranarin took out his sword pushing away the queen from the grasp of the warrior. About a dozen Noldorin warriors inside the hall took out their swords.
"What are you doing?" Thranduil could not understand what was happening. "Aren't you going to guard the queen?"
Thranduil tried to pull away from Kurvo, but the Noldo wouldn't let go. Instead, holding Thranduil with one hand, the Noldorin warrior walked over to the Sindarin warrior.
"Do you really want to do this, boy?"
"Take me instead," Thranarin offered in Quenya. "Whatever this is, it can be resolved peacefully."
"What makes you think you are important enough?" Kurvo scoffed.
It was then that the door to the residence section flung open and Eluréd ran in.
"Thranarin, I got mine," Eluréd said, then stopped when he saw the Noldorin guards. "What is happening?"
"Eluréd, come back here!" Through the open door, you could hear Aron running after the elder of the twins.
"Aron, stay back!" Thranarin shouted, but it was too late. Aron stepped into the hall holding Elurin's hand. The moment he saw the Noldorin warriors, Aron took out his sword pulling Elurin away.
But it was too late. The Noldorin warriors who stood near the door, pounced on Aron knocking him out. Lady Tinuel screamed and ran to her son. The Noldor grabbed Eluréd and Elurin.
"Take them away. Now!" Kurvo commanded. About half of the warriors left dragging the two princes away.
"Unhand them. Eluréd! Elurin!" the queen sprang at the warriors dragging the twins away before Thranarin could shop her. But a Noldorin warrior nearest to her grabbed the queen.
"What are you doing? Why?" Thranduil shook the gauntlet of the hand that held him in an iron grasp. He knew not what was happening, but his chest constricted painfully. "Where are you taking them?"
"Leave them alone!" Thranarin ran after the queen and the twins brandishing his sword, but Kurvo blocked Thranarin's sword letting go of Thranduil's hand.
"Stay out of this, boy, if you know what is good for you."
With one swing of his blade, Kurvo swiped away Thranarin's thrust, then kicked him in a chest. Thranarin flew through the air, then hit the floor near Glineth. Elwing who was within Glineth arm, burst out in tears. Kurvo gestured to another warrior near Glineth.
"Nana! Thranarin!" the twins screamed and struggled as the Noldorin warriors hoisted them up and disappeared into the corridor.
Thranduil blinked. "Eluréd…Elurin…" the words choked in his throat. He could not move. His body was shaking as if he was a sapling and someone was shaking him.
Glineth covered Elwing with her robe and scrambled toward the door leading to the residences, but one of the Noldor caught her. The warrior reached for Elwing in Glineth's arms, but Glineth clung to Elwing refusing to let the child go as Elwing screamed. The guard whacked Glineth and grabbed the wailing child.
Thranarin got up, his sword out. "Don't touch her!" His sword cut through both of the Noldo's arms as Glineth clung to Elwing's lower body. Red blood sprayed over the white floor as the Noldo screamed. The other warriors turned, then surrounded Thranarin. The soldier who grabbed the queen pulled her toward the corridor. But, Lady Tinuel got up taking her fallen son's dagger and struck the one holding the queen. The Noldo hollered, letting go of the queen, but struck Lady Tinuel who collapsed where she stood. The queen screamed.
But, Thranduil could not scream. He could not breathe. He only trembled as he watched the people he loved fall one by one.
"Why are you hurting them? You said…you said you were going to protect them. You are supposed to protect them. You are warriors. Warriors protect…"
No, no, no. No! Thranduil screamed in silence. He didn't want to see any more. He knew what will happen next. Look away! Close your eyes! He shouted to his younger self. But the images went on. He could not unsee. He could not forget.
Aron groaned and sat up. Somewhere Elwing was crying.
"Snap out of it, Aron," Thranarin shouted as Aron struggled to sit up. Thranarin blocked the warrior holding the queen. And Aron got up picking up his sword.
"Where's Elurin? Eluréd?" Aron stood up unsteadily and looked around as the Noldorin warriors advanced on the two young Sindarin guards. The queen's attendants who had been too shocked and stood frozen picked up goblets, plates, and fruits, anything they could grab and threw them at the Noldorin warriors. It didn't stop the Noldor but gave Thranarin time to breathe and for Aron to assess what was happening. But, the two young Sindarin warriors and a handful of women without weapons were no match for the heavily armed Noldor.
"Aron, watch out!" The Noldorin warrior's blade aimed for Aron, but Thranarin pushed Aron away. The sword flashed across Thranarin's shoulder and the young warrior staggered. His sword dropped out of his hand.
"No," Thranduil cried out. "Thranarin! Nana! Nana!"
The cacophonous sounds, the clashing of steel, the screams of Elwing and the ladies dimmed as his sight focused on Thranarin. His brother's beautiful face crumpled as blood, bright and scarlet, gushed out of his neck. Thranarin staggered. The sight of his brother's falling body dimmed and shimmered. Thranarin fell, and Thranduil watched unable to move, unable to utter another word.
"No!" Aron screamed and reached for Thranarin, but another sword struck him before he could reach Thranarin's side. Thranduil could not move nor look away from his fallen brother.
"We weren't supposed to hurt anyone," someone said in Quenya.
"Burn everything. We can't let this get out," someone commanded in the same tongue.
The pungent smell of smoke and metallic tang filled the hall choking Thranduil's throat and stinging his eyes.
The door to the residence flew open, and suddenly his mother was there. The hall filled with her ethereal song as she emptied a pouch of herbs and threw it at the Noldorin warriors. Her song rose up swallowing the screams and the clamor. The golden armored warriors swayed, staggered, then fell back, their faces contorted and eyes wild as if they saw something that horrified them. The air in the hall filled with a scent of mints and herbs Thranduil could not name.
Thranduil blinked as his mother's brilliant light formed a wall around him, Glineth and Elwing and the fallen body of Thranarin and Aron. The wall of bright light blocked the sight of the hall and everyone in it. Only light existed now. The queen stepped into the wall of light leaning heavily onto Thranduil's mother followed by one of the ladies who seemed dazed.
"Nimloth, stay with me." Thranduil heard his mother's calm voice urge, but the queen staggered, then fell next to Glineth who had Elwing wrapped tightly within her outer robe.
"Hold steady!" Thranduil heard Kurvo shout in Quenya beyond the wall of light. "It's all in our heads. This is not real."
Then, a new clamor rose up among the din of screams and shouts, but Thranduil could not see.
"Find the queen! The children. Thranarin! Aron! Are you in here?" Outside the ring of light that surrounded them, Thranduil heard his father's voice, but the elfling could not look away from the body of his fallen brother. The starlight had faded from Thranarin's eyes, his blue eyes glassy and looking beyond.
Brother… Thranduil's heart shattered into thousands of pieces as the darkness beyond his mother's light clawed closer. His mother's light was fading. In its place, darkness waited. Ebony abyss, darker than the starless night opened its arms. Thranduil closed his eyes and fell forward into the churning black sea.
The dark waves rose up like hungry beasts, their fangs thirsting with blood, ready to tear him apart. Thranduil did not struggle. He opened his arms wide and welcomed them. He wanted to be swept away, disappear. Drown. But someone caught his hand and pulled him away from the furious waves.
"Thranduil, wake up. Wake up. THRANDUIL!"
Thranduil looked up and saw Elwing or was it Elrond? He could not tell as the two faces overlapped and separated. "All these. They are in your head. It is in the past. Come back."
Thranduil shook his head as Elwing held onto his hand. Soft light played about her face making her glow as if reflecting a moonlight in the summer evening. Her warm gray eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Do not cling to the past, Thranduil. Let them go. You were but a child. You cannot blame yourself for what happened. Only those who killed are to blame."
"But I killed them. I did this. Your mother, your brothers. Aron's mother, and the ladies…my…my brother. I brought those killers there." Overwhelming grief crashed onto his chest smothering the breath. His heart drummed inside him. Tears he thought were frozen fell like streams down his face. "How could they forgive me?" He looked up not expecting an answer. He felt drained as if he was washed away onto a desolate beach from a wrecked ship. Every part of his body hurt, heavy and weak.
"The fault lay not with you. Those warriors lied to you, a child who knew nothing. Anyone would have known that. Glineth, Captain Aron, none of them blame you. Only you do. Let it go, Thranduil. Be free of this guilt that you carry with you."
Thranduil shook his head. He wasn't sure if it was as easy as that.
"You can do this, Thranduil. I will help you as you have helped me. The road you have walked was beset with sorrow and grief, but you are not alone. Remember the people who love you. And from now on, I will walk with you, my friend. My brother. I will have you and you will have me. Whatever sorrows this world throws, we will face them together."
Tears fell from Elwing's face as she wiped away the tears from Thranduil. Then, she pushed a leaf filled with clear water to Thranduil's lips. "Drink this. Fimbrethil said it will help you feel better."
Lacking any will, Thranduil drank obediently, suddenly parched as if he had not a drop of water all day long. It was cold and refreshing. The dark clouds that raged in his head calmed as if the sun rose and shone through the clouds.
… things that even the darkness of the clouds cannot block… Lady Melian's words rang through his head as if she spoke next to him. Elwing's face merged with that of Elrond as Thranduil's eyes focused.
"Elrond?" Thranduil frowned. "I thought…I thought…" Thranduil clamped his mouth. Of course, it could not have been Elwing. She was no longer here. Thranduil touched his throbbing head. His body felt heavy as if he lay buried in mud. There was no strength in him, but he struggled to sit up. Elrond pulled him up against a tree. The sun was rising coloring the leaves and grass in gold.
Thranduil stole a quick glance at Elrond. How much did Elrond know? A dread seized him and twisted his gut. What happened at Menegroth, Thranduil was sure he could never talk about. To anyone.
"It was the flower in the water. Fimbrethil said it didn't affect her trees or the animals, but some of the Dwarves who passed through here early this year drank it, and they were seeing things. Some slept heavily and could not waken for a while. I thought it was the same flower Mistress Taurien used. Maybe I was wrong."
"It probably is the same flower. I remember something about it from my mother's journal. In small doses, it calms and relaxes, but when the patient's mind is turbulent, it can worsen it."
Thranduil looked up at the sky. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy of the tree. A few feet away, he could see the clearing with its stone basin. Sound of trickling water and the twittering of birds filled the glade. In the bright daylight, the scenes moment ago seemed far away like a dream that disappears upon waking. Yet, his heart beat frantically as if he was running around the training fields. Thranduil turned to Elrond.
"Who's Fimbrethil?"
"The Entwife to whom this glade belongs. You drank the water in the stone basin, then fell. I couldn't wake you although you didn't seem hurt in any way. I didn't know what to do, then she came."
"You weren't affected?"
"You knocked the waterskin off my hands. Don't you remember?"
"Where's the Entwife now?"
"She went to get her mate when we could not wake you, and you were obviously tormented. She said it didn't happen with the Dwarves. Some of them were laughing as they slept, but nothing serious, but you…" Elrond looked away. "You were having a nightmare."
Thranduil took in a sharp breath. He wasn't sure if he should ask. But he needed to know.
"Did you…"
"Only because I couldn't wake you." Elrond flushed. "You were shaking, and…I was just trying to reach you, to wake you. You were writhing in agony." Elrond stepped forward, his eyes begging. "Forgive me, I did not intend to see. But your mind was open."
Thranduil looked away. A tremor went through him. He swallowed hard.
"How much?"
"All of it."
Thranduil's chest tightened. He closed his eyes. Only a handful of people knew what happened that day.
Thranduil could feel Elrond fidget beside him. Thranduil could not open his eyes and face the Half-Elven. What did Elrond think after all that he had seen?
Elrond was silent next to him.
"Was it you and not Elwing, the one who woke me up and told me those words?"
"Yes."
"And, what you said, just before you offered me the water, you still mean them, knowing what you know?"
Elrond placed his hands on Thranduil's shoulders and turned him around forcing Thranduil to look at Elrond. He clenched his fists preparing for the winter that inevitably came. The Half-Elven looked into Thranduil's eyes as if he wanted to drive his words into Thranduil's head.
"Every word."
Thranduil's eyes stung. He pulled away.
They sat, side by side, listening to the twitter of birds and the gurgling of water mingle in the glade. His chest hammered and filled with feelings unfamiliar to him.
Thranduil looked up at the stray sunlight that fell on his face. This world was warmer than he thought despite the pain and the grief that existed everywhere. It seemed Eru spared no one. It wasn't a matter of who, but rather how much. Terrible things happened to him, but through it all, he had people who loved him, his parents, Elwing, Glineth, Aron, Lord Istuion, Captain Himion, and the other Doriathrin warriors. He had been so engrossed in what he had lost, he had forgotten to think about what he had, people who loved him. It was more than what Elrond had. The Half-Elven had only strangers around him after what happened at Sirion. How terrible that must have been. Thranduil had never thought about that before. Maybe Eru had been more kind to him than he gave Eru credit.
Thranduil and Elrond sat in companionable silence each to his own thoughts when Elrond got up.
"Here comes Mistress Fimbrethil. I suppose the one next to her is her mate."
A slender being in the shape of a beech tree with hair like corn silk was walking up the hill to where they were. Next to her was a tall Ent. He was like a walking oak tree with deep brown eyes shot with a green light on smooth brown skin. The Ent and his wife walked in their slow gaits, their branch-like hands linked.
Thranduil stood next to Elrond and groaned. "Just my luck. That is Master Fangorn, the head tree shepherd, the eldest of his kind."
Thranduil swallowed hard remembering the incident near the Misty Mountains where he had burned down a small section of a forest there. It was that damn troll's fault, but his father had been angry with him. It was the first time Thranduil had seen his father lose his temper. Thranduil was ordered to go find Fangorn and make his apologies, but that didn't go well. Thranduil was sure Fangorn would not be happy to see him. In fact, 'unhappy' would be an understatement.
"Well, Elrond, my friend. I know you really wanted to meet the Ents, but if you want to get back to Lindon in time for our duty, we better leave now before they get here, or we may end up being in this forest a lot longer than you probably want." Thranduil picked up his pack.
Elrond frowned. "What did you do, Thranduil?"
"Whatever it is, we will face it together, right?"
The two young Elves ran as fast as they could out of that forest.
Fangorn (Sindarin, Tree-beard)—Known as the oldest among the Ents (some considered him the eldest in Middle Earth along with Tom Bombadil, but Ents came to being when Elves awoke). Fangorn is the one who roused the Ents to fight Saruman in the Third Age. During the Second Age, a great forest covered Eriador from the Blue Mountains all the way to the Misty Mountains. Ents roamed all through the entire forest. But, much of the forest was deforested by Numenoreans who took great amounts of timber to Numenor. More damage came later by the War of Elves and Sauron. By the Third Age, only a small cluster of woods remained and the Ents were found only in Fangorn, the forest named after Treebeard located south of Lorien.
Fimbrethil (Sindarin, Slim beech tree)—Also known as Wandlimb was Entwife of Fangorn (Treebeard) who became lost along with other Entwives at the end of the Second Age.
A/N: I meant this as the last chapter, but I will be putting up another one, kind of like Epilogue, dealing with Sauron and Captain Astalder. I felt without it, there is not enough closure before I start the story of the Rings of Power.