When the Snow Falls Red
Chapter 22: A Torn Family
Don't own.
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At the same time as chapter 21 was taking place…Órelindë smiled at her patients as she watched them sitting up in their beds and talking, smiling, and best of all, healing just fine. Thranduil was lucky that the knife to the stomach didn't do any horrible damage. He was soon mending just fine, his elven healing abilities working just the way they should. Legolas also healed quickly, with a few scratches left to mend. Aranel woke up from his long sleep feeling like his old self. Haldir had also woken up and was feeling much better. Náessë too woke up after a long sleep feeling refreshed.
The only one Órelindë was truly worried about was Saeros. He was healing slower than was natural for an elf. She was at his side most of the time while Uruviel took care of the others. Galadriel had been a huge help as well, but was now rest at an order from her husband. Celeborn was sitting in a chair beside Thranduil's bed, talking with him.
Aranel leaned back in his pillow, looking around the room. He was perfectly fine to get up and move around, but he wanted to stay with his family, and his family was all in the Hall of Healing, so that's where he stayed. He noticed how there was no talk about what had happened in the forest. Thranduil did not know that his elf who was supposed to be Aranel's twin had died by the hand of his own daughter. Náessë, he noticed, was much more subdued than usual. It could be collaboration of all that had happened in the past few weeks but Aranel could tell that it went deeper than that. The guilt inside of her was great, he could tell.
Legolas looked at the elves who were all around him. Though his body was still in pain, he smiled, thinking about how luck he was to have these elves who cared about him, and how lucky he was not to have been killed. But soon his thoughts drifted to Valandil. Had they made it to Rivendell? Was he going to live? The advisor to his father was a more than just an important elf, he was a friend to the three children of Thranduil. When Thranduil was too busy back in the days when they were younger, Valandil would be the one to take them out to the archery fields, or out riding in the forest. The death of Valandil would be a great loss to many, many elves.
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The sun was setting when a messenger arrived at the palace. Finwë was in the courtyard of the palace when he arrived. We was dressed in the garb of Rivendell. "Sir, I have a message for King Thranduil." He said, holding the scroll. Finwë took it.
"Thank you. Please, come inside and rest." Finwë said, smiling to him. The messenger nodded and followed Finwë up the stairs and into the palace. A servant was directed to take him a room and to get him food. When he was gone, Finwë untied the knots that were custom on messages from Elrond. He glanced over the message.
Thranduil,
I have just reached Rivendell after meeting up with Lólindir and the carriage that carried Valandil. I have examined Valandil, and I think he will be alright, but I can't be sure. I will keep you updated.
Elrond
Finwë sighed and rolled the scroll back up. He turned and went through the throne room and made his was to Thranduil's chambers.
The king was sitting at his large desk, pouring over the documents and papers that had come while he was busy with the events that had just taken place. Finwë stepped into the room and sat down across from.
"Hello Finwë." Thranduil said, sensing his presence.
"Hello Thranduil." He replied. He put the scroll on the desk. "A message came from Rivendell today." Thranduil looked up and saw the scroll. He picked it up and read it over. His expression was hard to read. It was a mixture of despair and relief.
"I see." He said simply. Finwë could tell there was much on his mind.
"What's wrong Thranduil. Tell an old friend." Finwë said, leaning back in his chair. Thranduil sighed and looked up.
"I just don't know what to do, Finwë. Those four guards who were demoted because they attacked Legolas, and who caused much of this, helped my children and Haldir. I don't know what to think, and I don't know what to do about them." Thranduil said in great despair. "Then there's Valandil who is hurt and even Elrond isn't sure that he will live. And I still haven't talked to Aranel about his twin yet. I've been avoiding the subject. I can't bare to tell him. And something is wrong with Náessë. She retired to her room quickly without talking to anyone. There's just so much going on." Thranduil sighed, and hung his head.
"Thranduil, do you know what happened in that cave?" Finwë asked. Thranduil nodded.
"The guards saved my children and Haldir." He said.
"I talked to three of them after they arrived back here. I guess Eärendir came and tried to kill them all, but the guards stepped in to save them. Saeros was stabbed with the sword, as you know. But this is what you don't know. Náessë took that sword from him, and killed Eärendir." Finwë said, searching Thranduil's eyes for a reaction. It was of surprise.
"My daughter… killed Eärendir?" Thranduil asked. Finwë nodded.
"So I hear. You know as well as I do the way that she is. There is probably a huge amount of guilt inside her right now. She took a life, an immortal life. That fact can tear away at any elf, or human." Finwë said. Thranduil took a deep breath. He stood from his chair and crossed the room to the fire and looked down into the flames.
"This family will need mending. Aranel lost a brother, a twin brother, Legolas doesn't know at all, and I don't know if he fully trusts Aranel again, and Náessë… my poor daughter. I cannot do it alone." Thranduil said. Finwë rose and went to his friend's side.
"You will not have to. You know that Órelindë and I will help as much as we can. We love those three like our own, and you know that." Finwë said. Thranduil nodded. The two friends looked into the fire together, lost in their own thoughts.
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Daeron paced back and forth in front of the room. Fëanor watched him, and Elerossë was lying on one of the beds in the room. "What should we do?" Fëanor asked, stopping his pacing long enough to look at his two friends, then resumed.
"What do you mean?" Daeron asked.
"I mean, what is there here for us? We all know that the King doesn't know what to do with us. We hate him, yet we save his kids. He's confused. We're confused." Fëanor said, keeping his eyes on the floor, pacing. Elerossë sat up on the bed.
"He's right, but there's nothing we can do until Saeros is better. I don't think King Thranduil will do anything to us until he is well." The self proclaimed leader of the group said. "So we might as well enjoy the good food and the comfortable beds while we can." Elerossë lounged back against the pillows again.
"You know, I had a thought, but I don't know if you all would agree." Daeron said.
"What is it?" Fëanor asked.
"Well…" Daeron sighed. "We could cross over the seas." He said simply. His two friends looked at him sharply.
"Cross over? But we haven't even been around very long." Elerossë protested.
"Like I said, it was just an idea." Daeron said quietly, glancing out the window. Elerossë looked away from him, but then absent-mindedly looked down at his hand. The scar was still there. The little 'X' he had made when he was younger.
Fëanor and Daeron saw him look at his scar, and the two looked at their own, knowing that on Saeros's hand, there was an identical mark.
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Hmm… how interesting.
Later all-
Blue September Rain
