I do not recommend this to people who've not read 'War of Elves', since it is rather OC heavy and would feel a bit lonely without context.
King Thranduil was not a frequent visitor to the metalworker's shop deep in the bowels of the Keep. Keeping the patrols organized, listening to the reports of his Captains, attending meetings on strategy and council discussions concerning the safety of the many villages in his realm kept him well occupied. But now he stood in the cramped room, tall and haughty, his crown of spring leaves adorning his silver-blond hair, radiating an air of impatience as he waited for the metalworker to reveal her work.
The she-elf was known for her skilful hand, turning even functional inscriptions into pieces of art. She had used ferric chloride to chemically etch metal and now, under the cold glare from her King, she removed the layers of paper that had separated the pot filled with glowing coals from the metal beneath. The brass had cooled by now and long fingers turned it around, reaching for the last sheet of paper and pulling it away. Chemical etches appeared, sharp, beautiful lines in the small plate. Elegant, simple, each side adorned with a leave.
A small smile tugged on Thranduil's lips as the she-elf handed him her work. He turned the small plate in his hands and then glanced up. The she-elf was wringing her hands, her eyes wide, a nervous smile on her lips.
"You have done well. Thank you." Thranduil inclined his head as a sign of thanks and the she-elf smiled, her shoulders relaxing.
"Thank you, hir-nin", she said, bowing deeply.
"Have a good day", Thranduil surprised her with a parting greeting and turned, leaving the cramped chambers. The smithies were further up and the clangs of metal on metal and the hisses from giant bellows reached down to prick his ears.
The King strode along the corridors, his robe trailing behind him. He did not have much time, he had promised his children and their Noldor guests he would join them for supper. Indeed, he was already late. Slipping the brass plate into his pocket, Thranduil quickened his steps.
The door to the Day Room was ajar and when he raised his hand to push it open, he heard his daughter speak.
"We should just start eating", she said, sounding resigned.
"We have to wait for Ada!" Legolas protested hard. Thranduil could almost see his youngest glare. His sweet, alive child. But it was his daughter's sigh that froze him. Her dejection. How often had she told Legolas he would not come for dinner? How often had she had to tell her baby brother that their father would not be joining them? He had known it at the time and yet only the recent months had revealed to him just how much he missed and what damage he had caused.
"We've waited for half an hour, tithen Las", Eyaenne said. "The food is getting cold."
Half an hour? Had it been that long? Thranduil cursed himself and pushed the door open.
"I'm here", he said, his deep voice reverberating through the Day Room. The long table had been set but his children and their guests from Imladris were sitting on the sofas to the side. The elves looked up. His children had brought paperwork with them and it was spread over the table, quills and ink placed in between the various stacks.
Lord Elrond smiled, his shoulders relaxing. He had worried the King would not come, had seen the same worry mirrored in the faces of the elves around him. Daeros had been staring at the same report for ten minutes, Legolas had been watching the door and Eyaenne had just been silent, leaning back, looking tired as she tried to convince everyone they should eat. The smells wafting over from the table were delicious and Elrond's stomach growled.
"Ada!" Legolas stood, rushing over to his father and embracing him, joy lighting up his face. Despite his insistency they wait, he too had not expected for their father to join them anymore. Elrond watched as Thranduil returned the embrace, brushing through blond hair. Legolas' hair still only played around his shoulders, but he had received a haircut and it was not uneven anymore at least.
"I apologise for my tardiness. There was something I needed to take care of", the King said. "Shall we eat?"
They moved to the table and soon, food filled their plates. Next to the normal food, several smaller bowls provided meals that were easy to stomach. It was a full table. The fea of the Royal Family had been so weakened, none of them were allowed to go on patrol into the darkened forest. Instead, they were recuperating, their light slowly brightening as their souls healed from an ordeal Elrond doubted anyone else could have survived. To aid that process, a bowl of water with athelas and gweethweed had been placed over a teapot warmer on the couch table in between the many papers, the flickering candle underneath warming the water and spreading the fresh, healing smell in the room.
Unlike in Imladris, where the dining table always provided room to talk and laugh, meals in Mirkwood were a much quieter affair as Elrond had learned. The wood elves ate quickly, talking much less as they focused on their food. Falin finished his meal first and instead of remaining at the table, he stood and moved back towards the sofas, pulling some paperwork back to himself and setting to signing it.
"Feras says I'm allowed back to the training field", Legolas said once both he and Thranduil finished with their meal.
"I'm glad to hear it. I believe you've not yet been able to show Lord Glorfindel your skill with the bow?" The King raised his goblet with water towards the balrog-slayer who had been eating his steak with closed eyes, moaning whenever he took a new bite. The elf had managed to make Elrond jealous even though he loved the baked potatoes and roots with herb sour cream that were served quite often here.
Eyaenne was glaring at her half-finished meal and then pushed her plate aside. Elrond caught her gaze when she looked up and quirked a disapproving eyebrow. The warrior opened her mouth as if to protest but then just rolled her eyes and pulled her plate back towards herself. Spearing a piece of chicken, she shoved it in her mouth.
"I'm done", she said a few bites later. "I can't eat more."
"How about some juice?" Elrond suggested, already pulling a glass closer and reaching for a jug with a slightly bitter yet sweet juice Eyaenne preferred made of a local fruit.
Thranduil was glad he had ensured his evening was free for it allowed him to not only enjoy his meal but spend time with his children afterwards as well. Alcanor and Roewen soon retreated to their shared chambers and Daeros sat with Lord Elrond, deep in conversation. To see his aloof son's polite smile turn genuine as he engaged in conversation was a rare sight. It lessened his dislike for the companionship that had developed between him and the other ruler, one born in hatred and distrust that had slowly turned into grudging acceptance and thankfulness. Lord Elrond had saved Legolas. His baby. And he had also aided both Eyaenne and Roewen, welcoming them into his home and caring for them when they were weakenend and he himself had been unable to help them as he suffered from the same.
As the evening wore on, Glorfindel and Legolas headed to the training fields and Arahen and Daeros left for the gardens, taking Lord Erestor and Lord Elrond with them. Falin left as well and so only Eyaenne remained, leaning over papers in an attempt to reduce the load of paperwork weighing on the realm. They worked in silence late into the evening. Normally, Eyaenne would not have been able to focus on paperwork for this long and indeed, Thranduil caught her playing with her quill instead of writing. But he said nothing and she soon tried to force herself back to reading. Still, Thranduil could see she remained because she wanted to spend time with him and it soothed his heart. He had had too little time for her even in recent weeks, too concerned about her siblings
"I'm done for tonight. I'm going to bed" Eyaenne finally said, rubbing her forehead and throwing her quill on the table. Screwing the ink vials closed, she pushed herself to her feet.
"Wait, Eyaenne", Thranduil stopped her from leaving, standing. She turned away from the door and he had a chance to look her up and down. Her clothes were still loose around her shoulders and hips, her cheeks hallow. He loved the smile she wore, adored it for he had not seen one like it in a long time. Her dark hair was braided sideways, a young leave tucked between the silky strands.
"I was late because I was getting this from the metalworker", he said, pulling out the small brass plate from his pocket. He waited until she met his eyes and continued gently: "It is yours to do with whatever you want. Pass it on, keep it, throw it away, put it in a drawer to forget for the next twenty years, whatever you feel comfortable with. I just felt it important to give it you."
Eyaenne hesitated and took the brass plate. She turned it in her hands and then her eyes widened. The warrior opened her mouth but no sound escaped her. Fingers brushed over the plate and the name etched into it in fine lines. The plate itself was nothing special. It was one of dozens the smithies formed every day to mark boxes. In the Royal Healing Ward, each bed had a tag like this on its foot end, declaring the name of the person it belonged to. One bed for each member of the Royal Family. Thranduil himself, his oldest son, Crown Prince Alcanor and Alcanor's wife, Roewen, his second child, Eyaenne, and her younger brothers, Arahen, Daeros, Falin and Legolas. Iarith's bed, his amazing second daughter, had been removed after her death as had Luineth's, Thranduil's wife and mother of their children many decades earlier. The brass tag in Eyaenne's hands bore a new name. That of Captain Methelion of Ravenstone Outpost. Her boyfriend.
"Is this?" she asked, looking up. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
"When you want to give it to him, we will bring a new bed into the Royal Healing Ward for him", Thranduil confirmed.
Her hands trembled and the honest, happy smile he had adored before returned to her beautiful face. She nodded, swallowing.
"I'd like to give it to him", she said.
Thranduil smiled and nodded, reaching out and gently touching her cheek. "I am glad to see you this happy when you are with him. And he is a fine elf, iell-nin. I couldn't have hoped for a better partner for you."
Eyaenne stepped closer and after slight hesitation, she hugged him. Thranduil drew her in, wrapping his daughter in his arms, concern in his heart when he could feel her bones.
"Thank you, Ada", Eyaenne whispered against his chest.
"I love you, iell-nin. And I am very proud of you."
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