"What happened to you Thranduil?" Elrond's voice was both disbelieving and demanding.
Him and Thranduil were both in the room given to Elrond. It was a spacious room with its own sitting area and fireplace. Thranduil sat on the couch looking as relaxed as if he lounged on his own throne.
"About the same things that happened to you, I would assume."
"Now is not the time for your wit, Thranduil," Elrond admonished as he came to stand before him and grabbing Thranduil's wrist as if showcasing it, said, "it is obvious that the same thing did not happen to us."
Extricating his wrist from Elrond's grasp, Thranduil let out a sigh and said, "What would you like me to say Elrond?"
"The truth, to begin with, would suffice."
"Alright," Thranduil paused, seeming to to try to find a place to start, "There was a tree. I do not know where it came from. It did not seem…natural. I got too close to it and," he took a breath, "and I could not control myself as I walked toward it. Then I was, and only for a moment, weightless. In that moment I both was and was not. It was...disconcerting."
"Disconcerting, does not quite seem to cover the feeling," Elrond said.
"It happened the same way with you?"
"In a sense. Except that for me it was a waterfall, not a tree. But other than that, the experience was similar," Elrond sad down beside Thranduil on the couch, "Then what happened."
Thranduil let out a sigh, "I found myself in a mannish city. It was...a shock. I was disoriented, but I managed to find someplace safe until nightfall, it was then that I decided to find out more about where I had appeared. It was a mistake. I was taken."
Elrond waited, thinking Thranduil would continue but as the silence dragged on he let out a breath and spoke, "Who took you?"
Thranduil gave a semblance of a shrug. "Men. I could not understand them. They were different then these men here and they seemed to think that they could own others."
"Slavers," the word tasted like ash on Elrond's tongue.
"Yes," Thranduil simply said.
"What did they do?"
Thranduil leaned his head on the back of the couch and with a weary sigh said, "It does not matter now."
It did matter, but Elrond could see that he was not going to get anywhere further on the subject. Thranduil and him were not near close enough for him to try to needle such information out of him. Not anymore. They were no longer simply comrades that had faced war and death together. Yes, they had stood upon the same battlefield, but that was long ago. And Thranduil had stood upon other battlefields since then-in defense of his Kingdom-and Elrond had not. It was a gap that stood between them. One that Elrond did not know how to breach, and he feared that the time to breach it had long past. But for a moment at the dock, all Elrond had seen was his comrade and friend, and the feeling of hope and joy-joy that he was not alone anymore, and hope that with Thranduil here they would be able go home-had overwhelmed him as he rushed to embrace the image of his old friend. Perhaps it had not been the proper thing to do, but it was not like a lot of proper things had been happening to him as of late.
"How did you find yourself a guest here?"
Thranduil's words brought Elrond out of his musings, "It is not as exciting a story as yours," he said.
Thranduil raised a brow, "I would still like to hear it," he said.
"Well, I already told you about the waterfall. It was much the same as your experience. It called to me, and the closer I got to it, the less I was able to command myself away from it. Then it took me and I found myself in a wood. I wondered about for half a day before I was found by King Edmund. He brought me here to the palace and I have been here ever since."
"How long have you been here," Thranduil asked.
"I would say about a month and one week," Elrond said.
"It seems that you have been here longer than I."
"Then that would lead to the thought that we were not taken at the same time. If only we could understand how we were taken and why, then we could perhaps find a way to return," Elrond said.
"Yes," Thanduil said, "If only."
"They just gave him to you?" Lucy said aghast.
"Why would they do that? From what you said he did, I would have thought that he would have just been killed?" Edmund asked.
"I am not actually sure. But from what Savvick overheard, they thought he was some kind of demon. It seemed to scare them too much to kill him. Maybe they thought that if they had, something worse would happen to them," Peter said.
"Well that would make sense. And in Colorman fashion they gave him to you," Edmund said.
"Exactly," Peter said.
"Has he said anything?" Susan asked.
"No, he has only spoken his name. And that was after me repeating mine. He does not know our language, the same as what you have told me of Elrond," Peter said.
"Well Elrond has made great progress in the time he has been here. I am sure it won't be too long before he'll be able to speak quite fluently...It's remarkable actually, the speed in which he has grasped the language," Edmund said.
"Yes, well, it's obvious that they are quite intelligent...whatever they are," Peter said, "Seeing as we are on the subject of our guest-where has Thranduil gone?"
"I believe he is with Elrond," Susan said.
"Why don't we go pay our proper respects, and make sure he is comfortable," Peter said.
Elrond had been situated in the guest quarters, which was on the other side of the palace from the royal chambers in which the four siblings had been discussing Peter's recent travels.
General Oreius joined them before they arrived at Elrond's door, emphatically saying that he could not let his majesties be alone with guests he did not trust. It was now a party of five that greeted Elrond as he opened his door. If he was surprised by finding all four monarchs and high general knocking at his door then Elrond did well in hiding his surprise beyond the raising of an eyebrow. Peter decided that he liked him.
"Your Majesties, welcome," Elrond said. He's accent was nothing short of exotic.
Thranduil, who had been sitting on the couch, made to get up at their arrival but stopped at a gesture from Peter.
"Please, this is an informal visit," Peter said, but it was obvious that Thranduil responded to the gesture and not his words. "Are you well?" Peter continued.
It seemed that that was one of the phrases that Thraduil had come to understand the meaning of on their journey back, and as such he nodded in response.
"Good," Peter said, "We came to see if there was anything you needed." Though his words were aimed more at Elrond in the hopes that at least he would understand. It seemed to take a second, but Elrond looked to understand the gist of it and in the melodious language that he spoke he translated for his friend. At least Peter assumed they were friends, but maybe hugs was how enemies greeted each other in whatever culture they were from-who was Peter to know.
Thranduil responded in the same language. It was more than Peter had ever heard him say. His voice was low and smooth and made Peter think of a deep blue lake.
"He...has...no need" Elrond's words were slow in coming but he got his point across.
"Well he obviously needs new clothes," Susan spoke up, "Those he has are much too short." And with that she turned and opening the door she spoke to whoever happened to be passing by at the time.
"Right," Peter said. Susan was not wrong. Thranduil's own clothes had not been salvageable and Peter-being the closest to his height- had given Thranduil some of his own. Though they were still too short in the sleeves and legs.
"And I am sure both he and Elrond would appreciate that he has his own room," Edmund said with an amused twinkle in his eyes. For whatever reason he found Peter's lack of knowledge on what their guest might need as funny. Honestly, sometimes Peter just did not understand his brother's sense of humor.
"Luckily," Edmund continued, "This parlor has two adjoining rooms." He walked across the sitting area and opening a door to the far right he beckoned Thranduil to follow. Once their golden haired guest had joined him at the open door, Edmund pointed at Thranduil and then at the bedroom and simply said, "Yours." Thranduil seemed to understand.
A knock at the door grabbed everyone's attention. It was Susan who opened it.
"I was told my assistance was needed, dearie." In came Mrs. Beaver with a satchel slung across her shoulder. Upon seeing who all was in the room, a surprised, "Oh," left her lips and she started trying to brush her fur, "Goodness, I didn't know this was going to be a formal affair."
"Don't worry Mrs. Beaver, It's not," Lucy said with one of her sweet smiles.
"We simply needed your expertise," Susan said, "But first I'd like you to meet our guests. This is Elrond, I do not think you have met him, though he has been our guest for sometime, and this is Thranduil." The introduction got identical nods of the head from the guests.
Mrs. Beaver curtsied as she said, "it's a pleasure to meet you."
"We asked you here because Thranduil needs some new clothes," Susan said.
"Say no more. I'd be more than delighted to help," Mrs. Beaver patted her bag, "I've got all my things here. We can get started right now." She walked up to Thranduil, "My, aren't you a tall one. Well I can't get at ya all the way up there, you're just going to have come down to me, dear."
Thranduil looked down at the beaver perplexed. It was a funny sight, at least to Peter it was, what with Mrs. Beaver about as tall as Thranduil's knee.
"I am afraid that he does not speak our language Mrs. Beaver," Susan helpfully said.
"Oh, well that's alright," Mrs. Beaver looked at Thranduil and then started to pull his pant leg toward the couch, "This way dear."
Thranduil followed, if somewhat confusedly. He looked at Elrond for guidance, but the dark haired guest was just as lost and all he could offer was a was on his own.
"Now you just sit right there, dear," Mrs. Beaver said as she nudged Thranduil's leg toward the couch, insinuating that he should sit down. He did.
She then climbed up on the other side of the couch and pulled out her measuring tape, then grabbing his sleeve she lifted his arm up, "tut tut, now this is much too short!" she muttered to herself. "Oh you poor, dear!" She then said when she saw the marks on his wrist. She then looked up to scrutinize his face. His only response was a raising of an eyebrow.
"You're not a son of adam at all, are you dear?" She said.
"No, Mrs. Beaver, we do not think they are," Susan said.
"Well if I didn't know any better I'd say you were an elf," Mrs Beaver said as she reached a paw to move the golden strands of hair around a pointed ear. Thranduil looked questioning at her. "Oh you poor thing, you don't know what's going on, do you? Well don't worry, we'll have you well looked after." She then affectionately patted his cheek, before going back to measure his arm.
"An elf? But are they not supposed to be small," Lucy asked
"Small? Oh no dear, where did you hear that?"
Lucy looked thoughtful, "Well I don't know. It was just a feeling, as if it was something I once thought, or saw in a dream perhaps."
Peter understood the feeling. The word did bring back a feeling of winter...and sweets. "General," Peter looked at the centaur, who had been silently standing by the door, "What do you know of elves?"
"Nothing. I do not know of any such beings living in Narnia."
"That is true. All we know of them is from half destroyed scrolls in which they were pictured dancing with the dryads. But that was long before the witch," Mrs. Beaver said as she measured.
"Well whether they are elves or not, we have something to call them now," Edmund said.
At least there was that, though Peter decided that he would look up any information he could find on these elves.
"All right, lad, let's measure those long legs of yours," Mrs. Beaver said as she got off the couch and gestured for Thranduil to get up, which he did. Having him hold one end of the measuring tape to his waste, she managed to measure his pant leg. "That's all I need dears, though he really needs to be fed better, poor thing." She patted his leg before she gathered her things and with a quick curtsy waddled away.