Nimrethil came screaming to greet him when Thranduil next entered the palace kitchens. She thrust a warm pastry into his hands and commanded, "Eat!"
Thranduil bit into the pastry. Warm, almost sweet cheese burst into his mouth. In a black dress and apron, Nimrethil clapped her hands and demanded, "Well?"
"It is delicious," Thranduil said, and licked his fingers.
"I know!" Nimrethil said. "Coral thought so too and I am officially her apprentice." She put her hand on her hip and tossed her head. "I will be making dessert for the King next."
Thranduil snorted. "No amount of sugar will sweeten him up!"
"Just wait," Nimrethil said. She followed Thranduil into the pantry. "I will cook the King if he complains of my cooking!"
Thranduil looked at her in alarm. "Nimrethil! You will not be an apprentice for long if you—"
Nimrethil batted his arm. "Thranduil! Learn to see a joke."
"With you, I am never sure if it is a joke," Thranduil told her.
Nimrethil wrinkled her nose. "Oh! It is you."
The skinny boy from the healing wing stared at Nimrethil and Thranduil and choked on the apple in his mouth. He backed up.
"Do not run!" Thranduil said quickly. "I do not know why you are still here, but you will not get far hiding in the pantry."
The boy hissed at him. Nimrethil gathered apples into the basket she held as the elfling ran into the shadows, past the flour bins. She said, "No one wants help but we all need it."
Having imparted this wisdom, she swung her full basket and skipped out of the pantry. Thranduil collected the things he needed to cook lunch. He looked around him one last time before he joined Harune at the stoves with two jars of fruit preserves and sugar.
It was past midnight by the shadows on the wall when footsteps and whispers dragged Thranduil out of his sleep. He sat up in bed, careful to leave the blankets over Harune, and listened. Shadows under the door meant people walked in the hall. Harune stirred beside him and flattened the pillow out of his face.
"What is happening?" Thranduil whispered.
Harune slid out of bed and reached for his dressing gown. Thranduil watched him leave the room and waited for him to come back. Harune shut the door on flickering torchlight and came back to bed, running a hand over his ruffled hair.
"Catchers are out," Harune said.
"What are those?"
"They," Harune corrected. "It is when orphans escape into the palace. Catchers are sent to find them."
Thranduil shivered in the summer night. "Why does it matter so much, ada?"
Harune hung his dressing gown on the bedpost and climbed back into bed. "Some people say orphans carry disease."
"Do they carry disease, ada?"
Harune sighed. "Lie down, Thranduil."
Thranduil lay down. Harune's arm pulled him close and shifted a sheet over them. "It is partly true that orphans carry disease. Orphanages are not kept clean and neither is the food healthy. Orphans do fall sick and die. Usually, healers do not go to them or the matrons of the places do not care to or cannot hire healer to help them."
Thranduil frowned. "I thought such darkness only existed in history books."
"History books, ion nin, are, unfortunately, a mirror of our reality at times."
Thranduil turned onto his side. "I did not know I had to look so deep to find the pits and flaws Mirkwood hides."
"We must always look hard to spot flaws," Harune answered.
Thranduil smiled suddenly. "There are no flaws in you, ada, and I know because I have looked for years."
"Maybe my flaws are what keep me here," Harune replied and snuggled him closer.
Thranduil thought of the orphan in the pantry and a tear welled in the corner of his eye. Perhaps the orphan would be dragged back to his orphanage and shut in a dark room for running away because he, Thranduil, had not known what to do.
As if sensing his distress, Harune said, "You cannot save everyone."
"I wish I could."
"You can search history, ion nin. Even the greatest of warriors and kings and queens cold not save everyone."
Thranduil smiled. "I said I wish I could. It is hard to make wishes come true."
"I have my wish," Harune answered and kissed his cheek.
"Ada, have you visited an orphanage?"
"I hesitate to call it a visit," Harune replied. "But, yes, Sapphire and I have been to orphanages several times. It is not among my treasured memories."
Thranduil sighed. Harune said, "Sleep now, ion nin. You are tired and looking at the clock will be enough to make you drowsy."
Thranduil shut his eyes. "Ada, do you think if they had the gold, the orphanages would be better places to live in?"
Under the blankets Harune found his hand. "Thranduil, my sweet ion nin, no amount of gold will do good if the people do not have kindness in their hearts."
"Are—are all orphanages bad?"
"You must look for the good ones."
Thranduil wrinkled his nose. "Why does all the bad stuff stay in plain sight, but the good things hide?"
"Mirkwood does a good job of hiding many things," Harune yawned. "Now, tell me, do I need to light incense?"
Thranduil giggled. "No, ada, I will sleep, I promise."
He fell asleep and dreamed of a yellow butterfly. It cast a colorful shadow into the swamp it flew over until a hand reached out of the muck and crushed it.
It pains me to think that plenty of the little things and flaws I write about are, like Harune says, sometimes mirrors of my world as well as Thranduil's. But this darkness aside, I love hearing your thoughts on my writing!
Next Chapter: Thranduil learns through the eyes of Ailunai and Hyrondal.