Memories
A warm droplet fell, followed by many more. The one which was dropped at the corner of her lips left a salty taste in her mouth. She pried open her eyelids, which felt impossibly heavy. A warm breath passed over her face as somebody sighed audibly. She was shocked to see her Ada in such a state- puffy eyes and disarrayed hair. His ageless face suddenly looked old.
"Oh Eru... you are awake! How do you feel now?" he asked in a hoarse voice. She tried to force words out, but nothing came. Soon welling tears blurred her father's face. Thranduil gently embraced her as her whole body shook of suppressed sobs.
"Hey...shh...you are safe now. Ada is here. You will be fine."
She hid her face in his hair and breathed in the familiar scent. He didn't care when her vice like grip wrinkled his robes. Thranduil gently stroked her hair as he hummed the tune which he used to put her to sleep. It took a while for the sobs to subside.
"Ery?"
"Mm?"
"Do you remember the first night you came to sleep with me?"
"No."
"I tried to send you back."
"Did I go back?"
"No. Ae Eru! How stubborn you were."
A faint smile came as the reply.
"You had a nightmare."
"Oh."
They stayed like that until the tears dried away and sweet slumber claimed her. In the forest, the snowflakes continued to fall. Thranduil gently eased her back to the bed, and from the corner of his mind, took out one of his precious memories.
(:~:)
18 years ago.
It was one of the nights when he wasn't feeling well. He was frustrated. The last family to come had returned empty-handed. Three years and several families to adopt the little nuisance. Every time somebody came, the child would latch either on to him or her maid.
"I think she has accepted you as her parent, Ada," Legolas said, when the family had left.
"She is a child. What she needs is a father and a mother. A proper family," Thranduil sighed.
"Maybe she has found them in you."
"I cannot raise a child!" Thranduil said aghast. "She is so noisy. I cannot do anything when she is around. I cannot raise her alone."
"You raised me, Ada, even when Nana (mother) wasn't with us," Legolas said. Thranduil turned his eyes towards his son. It was the first time he had heard such a statement from Legolas. He had always considered himself a poor excuse of a father. But to hear something like this... It meant the whole world to him. After a long while, he thought of Elerien, the dear mother of Legolas.
Truth be told, Thranduil had become rather fond of this little human. She was a nuisance. But her childish innocence had evoked something in him; something he thought to be lost since his beloved sought peace at Mandos.
Her memories stung deep. Thranduil sat, silent, by the window, staring out into the forest. His thoughts strayed to her; her laughter... The quiet assurances she gave whenever he doubted his title as the new king of Greenwood... Those memories were kept in the safest locker in his heart. They found their way out, often; reminders of a time long lost. His train of thoughts were halted when someone tugged at his tunic.
"Go to your bed, child," he tried to shoo her away.
She merely shook her head. "Up," the tiny voice commanded.
He crossed his hands and stared down at her. All his servants and guards would have flinched at this and avoided meeting his gaze. But she just stood there, staring back as if it cared nothing. Moments later, there came a little sigh and she broke eye contact. The next instant she was there, climbing on to the windowsill where he sat and into his lap. He gently aided her, not wanting to set off fits of wailing that may awaken the entire kingdom.
"What now?" he asked as the child was finally settled into his lap.
"Sing," came the demand.
"No."
It was followed by another dramatic sigh. He wondered from where this small child had learned it. The little green eyes stared into his icy blue ones as if she could read his mind through them. He shuffled uncomfortably under scrutiny. It was unnerving whenever Galadriel did it, and he was sure he didn't want another like her within his walls.
"What?" He muttered. She merely blinked and hummed a small tune. It was a small ballad, a sleep song. Most of the words were made up as the child couldn't find the actual lyrics. She made herself comfortable by reclining onto him, listening to his heartbeat, with the tiny arms hugging his torso. His arms came up to encircle her, to protect her from the chill in the air. Only the golden head peeked out of the crimson robes. His peripheral vision caught a sudden shifting of cloth.
"My apologies, your Majesty, for ruining your rest. I shall take her to her room," the maid hurried forward.
He signaled that it was fine and sent her off. The child in his lap shifted, but soft snoring followed soon. The song had long turned to be a whisper and died out. But he felt something shift inside his mind. The throbbing of memories ceased. A cold wind blew out his hair as the moon shone bright. After a very long time his mind felt at ease and he fell into a reverie.
Notes
Mandos- The Halls of Mandos, or the Halls of Awaiting was a place where the spirits of the dead go. After a brief respite in the Halls, the immortal Elves would be re-embodied, and return from the Halls to their kin in Aman.