Glad he would soon be back in the comfort and convenience of his office, Oropher dealt adroitly with the requests of two council members visiting him in the Mirkwood healing ward. As he melted wax to stamp his seal of approval to the needed documents and responded to the two elves' well wishes, he glanced over their shoulders at Thranduil.

Sitting with Harune on the sofa with a discarded book beside him, the prince was struggling with several knots in his hair. As Oropher poured the wax and stamped firmly, Thranduil appeared to give up and hand the comb to Harune.

The wax seals dried quickly. Oropher blew out his candle and rolled tight the documents. He reached for two blue ribbons. As he tied each parchment into a scroll, Thranduil exclaimed, "Ada!"

The council members stiffened. "The Prince addresses his former nanny in such a manner? You are a tolerate king, my king, but we are shocked you still permit it."

Oropher scowled. His fingers jerked and what would have been an elegant bow knotted. He thrust the scrolls at his visitors and snapped, "Get out!"

The elves left precipitately, bowing their thanks. Harune put the bone comb back into Thranduil's hand, patted it, and swished out of the room. Thranduil looked after his father with a small frown before he turned to Oropher.

"I ask that you call me ada," Oropher said. He folded his arms.

Thranduil's hands tightened on the comb. He looked down and bit his lip. "Oropher, I . . . I cannot. I recall only one time when I desired to call you ada, but that time is long since gone. I do not love you as a father."

Oropher came closer. His shadow stretched out long on the floor behind him. "There is no question about it, Thranduil. Your duty is to me. You shamed me today with that uncalled for remark minutes ago. I will not ask again but I will demand."

"I did not mean to bring you shame," Thranduil said softly. Carefully, he unclenched his hands and put the comb on the coffee table in front of him. "Ada—Harune pulled at a knot in my hair."

"I do not want your excuses!" Oropher spat.

Thranduil rose to his feet. His shoulders went back. For a moment anger rose in his blue eyes. It died as he sensed, under Oropher's fury, the hurt. His heart twinged. When Oropher wanted him to let him in, he was now shutting him out.

"I cannot call you ada, my king, and for that I am deeply sorry," Thranduil said. "I would dishonor us both by speaking lies."

Oropher turned away. His robe turned with him and clashed abruptly at his stop against his legs.

Thranduil said, "I would be proud to call you abar."

"I do not know that word."

A small smile grew in Thranduil's eyes. "It is elvish, I assure you, my king. It is the father of the word ada. While ada translates to he who cares, abar translates to he of my blood."

Slowly Oropher turned back to face Thranduil. "You would be proud to call me abar?"

"Yes. It honors the bond between us."

Oropher tilted his head to one side before he nodded. "I would be honored if you will address me, henceforth, as abar. Tell me, where did these terms branch off?"

Thranduil sat back down on the sofa and rested his hand under his chin. "Centuries ago, it was deemed inappropriate for adopted or foster elflings to address their masculine caregivers as 'abar', as it violated the term. Ada was born to bridge the gap. Because it was more inclusive, it soon became the accepted term for 'father'."

Oropher raised his eyebrows. "I see."

The door burst open and Ailunai appeared on the threshold. She composed herself in a breath. "Thranduil, with Avaron's permission, I am cleared as your escort for an outside stroll! Are you free, my prince?"

Thranduil glanced at Oropher. "Am I free, abar?"

Oropher fell prey to both the breeze in his heart at hearing the word and the sparkle in Thranduil's eyes. "You are."

He almost felt the room shake, so swiftly was Thranduil at Ailunai's side and gone. He sat down, smiling slightly, on the sofa and idly picked up the book lying beside him. Mirkwood Family Etiquette. He flipped through it. A word caught his eye. In disbelief he went back to the page. As he read, a knife sank into his heart and jerked free. In fury, he snarled.

Hand trembling, Oropher rang the bell. He snapped white-faced at the maid who answered, "Send me Lord Harune!"

"There is no need for that, my king," Harune said, stepping past the girl into the chamber. "I—"

Oropher slammed the door in the maid's face and threw the book at Harune. "You are responsible for the lies on Thranduil's lips! How sweetly he said them and, fool that I am, I believed every word!"

Harune stumbled back but caught the book before it clipped his chest. His brow pinched together. His eyes darkened with confusion. "I do not understand your rage, my king."

"Deception!" Oropher spat. "You can lie to me no longer. You know as well as I Thranduil is a slave to your demands!"

Harune looked down at the book in his hands. Mirkwood Family Etiquette. A flash of understanding tingled through him. "Oropher, my king, whatever has transpired between you and Thranduil I did not ask of him. It is a violation of the trust between me and Thranduil and a killer of growth to tell someone else what to do. Because I would make one choice does not give me the right to tell Thranduil not to make another."

Oropher clenched his hands to hide their trembling. "You put that book on the shelf! Not even the latest edition, but the first written account. You knew what you were doing."

Harune put Mirkwood Family Etiquette on Thranduil's bed. "My king, as Thranduil's father it is my responsibility to open his eyes to choices. Instead of only yes or no, there is always another option. I put this book on the shelf not because I wanted Thranduil to read it, but so that he could be drawn to it if he was so called. As for the edition, I find it is more revealing to go back to the start of a thing rather than the later texts, where context has been rewritten out."

Oropher stared at him. The disbelief vented out of his eyes. He returned to the sincerity in Thranduil's voice in his memory and could not escape the truth he felt. He shut his eyes.

"I regret your belief that Thranduil is a slave to my demands," Harune said, a slight tang in his voice. "I do not make demands."

Oropher lifted his eyebrows. "Indeed? Perhaps I would not have felt so betrayed if Thranduil had mentioned his revelations came, so recently, from Mirkwood Family Etiquette."

"It is possible he anticipated this response, or he was distracted."

Oropher frowned. "He left in the company of Ailunai."

Harune clasped his hands behind his back and crossed the room to the window. A brief sweep of the kitchen gardens below revealed a tint of Thranduil's blond hair and Ailunai's golden head beside him. "You do not wish to breathe in the fresh air, my king?"

"I require an escort," Oropher answered. "You are forgiving, Harune, of attacks leveraged against you."

Harune laughed and turned around. "Yours was not an attack, my king, but more of a miscommunication. If I grew horns at every sharp tongue I encounter, I would soon stab myself. I—" He broke off as a knock sounded at the door and an elf in somber black entered the room.

The elf bowed. "Forgive the intrusion, my king. I regret the unpleasantness of my visit, but Mirkwood is in grief over the loss of its Queen. I have to inquire, my king, what kind of funeral arrangement you desire so we may put our sorrow behind us in whole?"

The light left the room. Pride alone permitted Oropher to sit gracefully in the closest chair rather than collapse. "Funeral . . . arrangement?"

The elf placed his palms together and bent his head. "I understand your uncertainty, my king. The Queen was a dynamic and unforgettable person. I only wish to arrange such an honoring of her life passing as would be her wish."

"I—," Oropher too bent his head, ashamed he could not conjure words as ice closed around his heart.

Harune said pleasantly, "I am afraid the King is unable to respond to your queries at this time, Elohim, but I will see to it you receive a timely answer. Please inform the court a memorial celebration will be held, with future details forthcoming. Thank you."

The elf took his dismissal with a dissatisfied look backwards. As the door shut behind him, Harune turned to Oropher.

"I do not have even her body," the King whispered. He looked up. "She is buried out—out there among the bloody ruins and rotting orc corpses. Unable to find peace even in her death."

^_^ From acceptance to rage to grief and back again?

Next Chapter: Oropher finds a friend in sorrow.