Thranduil's eyelids drooped. After a week of lessons, the patterns in the carpet blurred to make Harune's face. The branches knocked on his bedroom window at night as if sharing his tossing and turning. His meals were flavorless.
He was sitting on the floor, fitting colored tiles together to form a picture. Oropher sat opposite him and Natelle smiled from a chair. The carpet was gold and red; oh so smooth.
"Thranduil!" Oropher cried. "No! Clumsy! Clumsy!"
Thranduil looked in confusion at the glass of milk where it puddled between shards of broken glass and licked the colorful tiles splayed out on the floor. Thranduil's brow dipped. "I am sorry. I did not mean to knock it over."
"Indeed, you did not," Oropher said. "But these tiles are centuries old; passed down through my family for generations. I seriously doubt the milk will come out and I am disappointed in your thoughtlessness."
"It really was an accident," Thranduil said meekly.
"That may be," Oropher said. "But your clumsiness cannot be excused. Come here."
Thranduil approached Oropher slowly. Something in the King's tone told him he would not like what was coming and that it would not be like Harune.
Oropher made Thranduil lie across his lap. Perhaps it was a new game?
"We should clean up the milk first," Thranduil said.
"A servant is coming," Oropher answered. "Now listen to me, Thranduil. In this palace, you are surrounded by precious and ancient things that have survived generations. You must learn to be aware of your surroundings. The palace halls are not servant passages for you to run wild and rampart, and neither is this parlor a place for you to swing your arms and legs about like some kind of human. Learn to control yourself and this will not happen again."
Thranduil saw the servant silently wiping up the milk. The elf picked up the glass shards and the tiles, where milk had discolored the paper, and disappeared as swiftly as he had come.
"As my father reminded me, this is a reminder to be mindful," Oropher said.
Thranduil jerked upright, banging his head against Oropher's chin the moment the first slap landed on his behind. He crawled away and hid behind a chair. "What are you doing? Why are you hitting me?!"
"Thranduil!" Oropher snapped, rubbing his chin. "Come back here!"
"I am sorry your father hit you!" Thranduil cried. "But I do not want to be hit. Ada does not hit me!"
Oropher snatched his wrist. "I loved my father beyond thought, Thranduil. I loved him all the more for the good he taught me."
"I do not love you," Thranduil sobbed, as Oropher's leg pinned down his legs.
"You will learn to," Oropher answered as his hand painted Thranduil's behind red. "This is for your own good. And understand this: Harune is your nanny. If I hear you call him 'ada' again, I will spank you harder."
Thranduil could not imagine 'harder'. When Oropher finally let him go, he fled, knocking against the walls as tears streamed down his cheeks. And the tears were hot and bitter . . .
A wooden pointer smacked the desk inches from his nose and Thranduil jerked upright, torn from the memory of Harune's embrace around him. The smell of apples made him blink as Amber leaned into his face.
"My prince," she growled. "Your work is disappointing. You, frankly, are a disgrace. Understand this: If Harune cared for you, he would have stayed. Unlike you, he understood he was just hired help."
A crack ripped through Thranduil's heart, spreading with a joyous cackle thought the tears the nagging suspicion Thranduil denied every night as the moon rose had caused. "No! It is a lie!"
"You know it is true," Amber said. "I see it in your eyes."
Quickly Thranduil drew his hand across his face.
"Now," said Amber. "Since it is obvious you cannot concentrate, I will give you some incentive to study better. I cannot excuse poor work. Hold out your hand!"
Thranduil glanced at the pointer and immediately sat on his fingers. "No."
Amber beckoned to Tayan. As the elf approached, she said, "I will give you one more chance—"
"I do not want your chances!" Thranduil cried. He jumped to his feet. "Stop hurting me."
Tayan grabbed his arm and held it out straight. Thranduil yelled as Amber's pointer stung his bunched knuckles.
"It will hurt less on an open palm," Tayan suggested.
Thranduil kicked the elf in the shin. "Valar curse you! You have no right to be teachers."
The force of the pointer on his hand made him cry as he struggled to pull free of Tayan's grip. "If this is what you did to Oropher, I cannot blame him for being cruel," Thranduil wept.
"I had not the pleasure of teaching the King in his youth," Amber replied, her face flushed from wielding the pointer. "Learn to behave and you will not deserve this."
His screams attracted the librarians. The elves emerged from between the bookshelves scowling and gathered in a cluster under the domed roof, their faces slowly poisoned with disbelief.
"I will not be beaten into submission!" Thranduil spat. One last heave and he broke Tayan's hold. Stumbling back, he whirled into the maze of bookshelves and ran.
Thranduil's hair whopped his face, half-blinding him as he bumped into the shelves, clutching his wounded hand. The guards at the library doors would catch him. Nowhere to run—no ada—Harune had abandoned him!
"Ada," Thranduil wept. He sank down with his back to a shelf and rested his forehead against his knees. "Come back, ada. Please come back!"
"He has another family, my prince," Amber spoke from the other side of the shelf behind him. "He has a real family, unlike you. You will learn to abandon this demonic obsession with Harune."
Thranduil ran. Straight for the library doors. He made it halfway down the hall before the guards caught him, tackling him to the floor. Forced to his feet, Thranduil glared as Amber stood in front of him. her eyes stared into his, conjuring memories of bloodshed; of a bird squawking without its wings, of a wolf without a tail.
"You are witch!" Thranduil cried.
"Perhaps I am," Amber replied. "And perhaps I have simply been trained in how to handle elflings like you. I can take him from here."
She nodded to the guards and gripped Thranduil's arm. Thranduil struggled as she dragged him back toward the library.
"I will have you know, my prince," Amber said. "That, if all other methods fail, I will beat this behavior out of you."
Tears blurred Thranduil's eyes. "Oropher will not let you."
"Oropher will let me do whatever I need to," Amber sneered.
He knew it was true. Thranduil jerked back and his free hand swung wild, slashing across Amber's cheek before he could stop it. Her hand smacked Thranduil's cheek and stinging pain spread through his face.
Thranduil heard a gasp and turned his head, his heart slapping at his ears. Natelle stood two feet away, her hand on her mouth. She raised her head and her blue eyes reminded Thranduil of ice under the eaves during winter.
"Very well," she said. "If you will act like a beast, you will be treated like one. Take him to the dungeons!"
The guards hauled Thranduil back under his arms. "It was an accident!" Thranduil cried. "I am sorry!"
Amber said, "There is no forgiveness for you. Even the Valar turn their backs on you."
Down the steps the guards pushed him until the wooden stairs turned to stone and the walls to rock. The air smelled of moss and rancid earth. The narrow corridor opened into a wide room and plunged down a passage lined with cells on the opposite side. The guards opened a barred door and thrust him inside a square space.
Thranduil listened to the bars slam shut and a key turn. He sat on the floor as silence fell and left him alone.
"I did not mean to," he whispered.
Whoops. Mistakes have been made. I have made mistakes; have you?
I hope you are staying safe and healthy; I have not been out to town in ages but I love watching spring bud outside. Writing is an escape for me into another world where I have the freedom to ran as far as I like and scream. Thank you all so much for reading what I am churning out; I love hearing your thoughts!
Guest: Thanks for sharing your thoughts!
Next Chapter: Oropher visits his son in the dungeon.