A/N I'm still alive! First off let me say I'm sorry for the hiatus, it was not intentional. Life decided to take a trip down insanity road and in between transferring to a university, helping to get the house ready to sell, moving cities, and going out of the country I just did not have time to do any personal writing-and on the rare occasion when I did have time I was much too tired to even try to write. And I don't want to give you guys crap!
I do wish that this chapter was longer (and better) but I felt that I had to post something if only to let yall know that I have not abandoned this story! I would also like to say THANK YOU for all the reviews and kudos-they really mean a lot and even though I have not been able to respond to all of them I still read and love them!
Anyway, I'm done rambling...On with the story!
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Peter did not sleep. After one terrifying dream, he spent the rest of the night sitting in front of his window with a myriad of thoughts running through his head. They were both remembrances of the past and fears of the future. The terror of loud sounds and flashing lights that he could no longer place merged with the fear of what may become of his Kingdom. He saw his brother alone and frozen in a dark wood. Thorns surrounded his body that kept Peter from reaching him. No matter how much he struggled and shredded at his own flesh, Peter could never reach the lifeless body of his brother. In the dream, the only color that existed was the red of Edmund's blood.
Peter closed his eyes and felt the gentle breeze on his face, and he focused on the crashing of the waves, and then he took a deep breath. He did not open his eyes and face the dark of night. It is what all expect of him. He is the Magnificent, expected to face all obstacles head-on with teeth bared and not a hint of fear in his open eyes. But for now, he can be just Peter, just a brother, and if he keeps his eyes closed and thinks hard enough, he can almost remember what it was like to be a son-to carry no burden. Almost. For all he tries, he can no longer fully remember. His mother has Susan's eyes and Lucy's laugh but no distinguishable features of her own, and his father is just someone he remembers remembering but has never taken solid form.
He takes another breath and opens his eyes. With a long stare at the dark, he gets up and moves to his desk. There is nothing to be gained with reminiscence he thinks, and begins to work.
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Dawn came slow, like a caterpillar fighting its way out of its cocoon. Thranduil was not sure if he wished it had come quicker or slower, but all night he had stood and watched the stars shift through the sky in their taunting dance. They were not Elbereth's creations, and though they felt livelier-as if they truly lived-his memories gave them a haunting presence.
The courtyard was not a quiet place, as it was strewn with creatures all in dire need to achieve a task.
"Are you the one that will be accompanying my brother?"
Looking back Thranduil nodded at king Peter, "Yes, your Majesty. I will be going."
"Please Thranduil, we are both kings...let us drop the titles."
"As you wish."
"What do you hope to gain from this?" Peter's tone was neutral and his eyes looked to a far-off distance.
"Perhaps I should say that I wish to help you for the help that you have given me, but though that is not a lie, my main motive is much more selfish in nature," Thranduil looked at Peter, "I wish to return home and I see this as a step toward achieving that goal. This darkness is familiar...it haunts the shadow places of my land. I have fought it for ages and it still infests my kingdom-even as I stand here, my people still fight it. I will do what I must to return."
"What you must? And what does that entail?"
Thranduil looked at the man before him. He knew that for all the power that the High King wielded he was still young, even by manish standards. Though Thranduil would not make the mistake of thinking he was a boy playing at being a man. Such a thought was refuted in the steel in his eyes and the prosperity of his kingdom. By the High King's stance and actions it was quite easy to forget his age, something Thranduil didn't have a problem doing, but in this moment he was reminded. There was dark under the High King's eyes and his tone somber, as if many thoughts were vying for attention in his head.
"It does not entail betrayal. I assure you, from one king to another, that I will not do anything that will bring harm to you, your kingdom...or your brother." Thranduil held Peter's gaze and imbued as much sincerity as he could into his own gaze, until the High King slowly nodded.
"You can find a mount in the stable, Edmund should be arriving shortly." And with that said the High King turned and left.
Thranduil watched him leave and it seemed as if the atmosphere pressed around the retreating figure and tried to bend the shoulders.
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The horse's name was Hickory and Thranduil didn't so much as pick him as he picked Thranduil. Hickory liked to try and nibble at Thranduil's hair and Thranduil liked to act like it annoyed him. It was a mutually beneficial relationship.
"It is somehow fitting that you picked that nag," a voice said from behind Thranduil.
"Sir Gamri, good morning to you," Thranduil said to the dwarf.
"I wouldn't call it that," Gamri said.
Thranduil raised a brow at his response.
"So how'd you do it?" Gamri asked.
"To what are you referring to?"
The dwarf pointed to the horse, "Get that horse to go with you without it kicking your teeth in."
"I am not sure as to what you mean. Hickory simply came, I'm afraid I am the one that didn't get much choice in it."
Gamri scoffed, "Well that...that does not surprise me."
"Is it a difficult horse?"
"Difficult? That horse is impossible. He hasn't let anyone ride him since...well for a while now."
"Thranduil!" The call of his name interrupted the conversation and Thranduil looked over to see King Edmund walking towards him. "I am assuming you are the one that will accompany me?" the King continued.
"Yes, I will be accompanying you."
Edmund gave a nod, "I'd ask if you had any stealth knowledge, but seeing as how you managed to lose your guard and disappear whenever the whim struck, I'll assume you are adequate."
"Your assumption would be correct. I am...adequate...in the practice of stealth."
"Good," Edmund then looked to those with Thranduil, "And how do you fair, dear Gamri?"
"As good as can be expected, your Majesty."
A smile played across Edmund's lips, "It gladdens me to hear that you are having such a fine day." But before Gamri could respond Edmund continued, "And how did you ever convince Hickory to come with you?"
Another smile appeared on Edmund's lips as he watched Thranduil pointedly ignore the horse that had begun nibbling on his hair.
"My problem lies more along the lines of trying to convince him to stay," Thranduil said dryly.
Edmund let out a chuckle, "He is a good horse and he should serve you well."
Gamri's scoff was pointedly ignored.
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Those that were accompanying the King were not many, they had appeared silently with their gear and mounts and they spoke softly among themselves. They were different from the soldiers Thranduil had met-who all stood tall and ready to war-these instead felt as if they could turn incorporeal at whim. They felt like the scouts of Thranduil's home and the familiarity sent an ache through his soul. Thranduil was reminded of the silent bond, and the ache intensified.
"Thranduil," The soft call of his name drew his mind from the dark trails it had fled down.
High King Peter was walking towards him carrying a long wrapped parcel. He said nothing as he handed it to Thranduil.
The parcel in his hand was a familiar weight and Thranduil began to unwrap it slowly. His fear that it wasn't what he thought it was made him hesitant, but as he peeled back the brown paper a glint caught his eye causing his hope to soar. He continued unwrapping the parcel slowly, but it was now from reverence instead of hesitance. In his hand, he held his sword.
Thranduil looked up and questioningly met the eyes of the High King, Peter gave a small shrug and said, "I was not the king that was made for...and I can't very well expect you to cover my brother's back empty-handed."
Thranduil was not sure how to respond so he simply put his hand out and with little hesitancy, Peter reciprocated. They clasped forearms as warriors-one king to another. Equal to equal.
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A/N I know this chapter was short and a bit rough, but hopefully, it'll kick me into gear to start posting regularly again. Thanks for reading!