Out of Mirkwood
Scribbles-on-Parchment
January 18, 2020
Chapter 26 – Thranduil's Account
Thranduil softly closed the great oak door to his private chambers before leaning heavily against it. He had sent Thalion away, telling his trusted friend to post a guard at his door to make sure no one disturbed him. He needed to be alone for a while to think and get his emotions under control once more.
The elven king pushed himself away from the door and walked slowly over to his desk. He needed a drink. It had been more than a millennia since his emotions had felt this erratic. Picking up the crystal flask from its usual place on his desk, he pulled the glass stopper out and let it fall with a loud thunk right onto the papers he had still to do. The Sinda ignored this and walked away while taking a long drink of the intoxicating crimson liquid.
He wanted to drown out all his shame at the words he had spoken to his oldest son and all memories of Legolas. He just wanted to forget everything and to be free of the suffocating grief and regret that filled his heart.
The elf lord took another swig of wine and frowned as he noted that the glass in his hand was already half empty. Cursing, Thranduil slammed it down onto a small table that sat near the window. He would need many more bottles before the alcohol would even begin to take effect.
Thranduil sat staring angrily at the cold fireplace. Seven wine bottles sat empty, strewn across his desk. Some of the strongest wine in the whole of the Greenwood had been sent up to him, yet still painful emotions persisted and even grew.
The elven king turned his gaze to the eighth bottle, still in his hand. He swirled the red liquid around, watching as the last of the wine caught the fading light and shimmered invitingly. The Sinda shook his head. What was he doing? Had the wine finally begun to take hold?
He quickly emptied the bottle and set it down onto the table. He had lost all track of time completely, but the light in the room had dimmed considerably. It must be getting late.
Thranduil stood up slowly with a sigh. Perhaps he should just retire for the evening as nothing seemed to be helping him forget his pain and misery. In fact he was beginning to doubt if he would ever be free or if even in his dreams he would be plagued with worries and pain.
As the eldar entered his sleeping chambers he paused. A fire had been lit in the hearth, brightening the dim room. Its dancing light seemed to settle on the only painting in the entire room. A portrait of his family. Not the way it was now, but the way it had been many years ago. He had had it made several years after his wife's death; a symbol for him of what he still had left, of what he still had to live for.
The ellon walked slowly over to the painting, eyes fixed upon one face. The young elfling that stood by his father's side, blue eyes sparkling with joy and life, a small smile drawing on a playful smirk splayed across his lips. This was the Legolas he would always remember.
The Thranduil did not even notice the tear that fell from his eye and onto the expensive rug beneath him. He lifted his hand up to his son's face, but there was no warmth in the painted flesh, no giggle, no life in his ion. The king quickly dropped his hand to his side. Of course, it was only a painting. His son was gone.
Perhaps the wine had gotten to his mind after all.
He turned away from the smiling faces on the wall; he would have it removed in the morning.
As the Sinda began to let his elegant outer robes fall to the floor, he found himself stumbling forward. Realizing this, Thranduil just managed to catch himself from an ungraceful fall to the floor. He straightened up quickly, shaking his head. What was this? Surly the wine could not have made him this clumsy so quickly.
The elf lord took a step toward the door to his chambers but his legs felt weak and trembled under him. His vision began to blur and he fell to his hands and knees, unable to stop himself. He felt strangely detached from the rest of his body. Why was he gasping for breath? Had the wine been poisoned?
Thranduil's mind went black as he collapsed fully onto the floor, lips slowly turning an unhealthy shade of blue.
Flashback – 2,600 years earlier in the Greenwood
"You must go meleth nín. You have put this off for far too long."
Thranduil turned away from his wife. "You know why Elrond has called this meeting. Why should I go? What is the point?"
"The darkness in the forest is growing. Yrch and spiders press our borders every day. We cannot fight this alone and you know this."
The elleth put a hand gently on her husband's arm, "Go. Meet with Elrond and sign his treaty. Do it for me, lesten"
The Sinda turned and looked into her silver-grey eyes, "If it is your wish then I will do as you say," he gently kissed Sílrien, "But I only do this for you."
"Le hannon. Le melithon anuir."
Thranduil was tired of all the formality. He knew what it was Elrond wanted, but why would the blasted elf not just say it?
"Of course. I know how difficult it is for you to leave your kingdom, especially in such a dark time we now live in."
The Sinda felt his anger rise. Was the Nodlo insulting him? Was he trying to make him mad?
"Do you think that my wife and advisors are not capable of taking care of the Greenwood while I am away?" Thranduil could hear the murmuring of the other elves around him but he ignored them. He did not care what they thought.
"No not at all," the Noldo stammered, lowering his gaze quickly, "I meant only that…"
But the elven king did not wish to hear any more, all he wanted to do was finish this and get back to his wife and young son.
"I care not. Just get on with the treaty, for that is no doubt why you have called me here," He could tell that his voice was rising in anger, however, he did not do anything about it. He would shout if it meant this meeting would be over sooner.
Elrond just stared at him; brown eyes narrowing in frustration.
"You wish for the aid of my kingdom if Imladris is ever attacked and if we are in need of aid you will help us," Thranduil did not word it as a question, but as a statement.
He knew he would sign any treaty that they brought out, not because he wanted to, but because Sílrien asked him to do so. If it made her feel safe and happy then that was all that mattered to him.
"Hîr nín, you have received a letter."
Thranduil slammed his chalice onto the table making some of its contents spill onto his desk.
"Can you not see I am busy? I have a kingdom to run and a war with the yrch to fight, I do not need to be bothered with some blasted letter."
"Mellon nín," Tamír's voice made him turn his head, "This is a letter that you should be bothered with. It is from Imladris."
The elven king immediately reached for the paper in his General's hand and tore open the seal. His eyes skimmed over the contents of it as the Silvan started to clean up the spilled wine. After a moment Thranduil leaned back and let the letter fall the floor,
"How did they find out?" he turned his gaze upon his trusted friend, "I made it very clear that they were not to be told. We do not need their help for we are strong enough. Who told them?"
Tamír bent to pick the letter up from the floor. "Perhaps no one told them and they found out on their own. It is not such a bad thing and think about how many lives will be spared. The battle will be over twice as quickly."
The Sinda's eyes hardened, "You told them. You sent them a letter because you knew I would not."
"Thranduil!" Sílrien's normally gentle voice was hard with anger, "Hold your tongue. You know not what you speak of. Why must you be so angry at my lord Elrond? What had he ever done to deserve this from you?"
The elven king turned his gaze away from his friend to see his wife standing by the door. "Leave Tamír. I will speak with you later."
There was silence as the ellon passed Sílrien and shut the door as he walked out.
"You have changed Thranduil. What has made you so full of anger and hatred? I remember falling in love with an ellon who was kind and gentle," Sílrien's words cut at the king's heart, "I know that the darkness has been growing in your heart, but do not let it also cloud your judgment. What is it that you fear the Noldor will do?"
When he did not respond, the elleth lifted her husband's head up, "Just because they broke a treaty with us once before does not mean that they will do it again. They had just cause to do so the first time. Your adar was full of greed and not in his right mind; this is not the same."
Thranduil leaned into his wife and when he spoke, his voice was strained with sudden emotion,
"I have dread in my heart. It has been growing for many days. I fear that we will be alone in this fight and that they shall not come to our aid. Elrond does not understand the force of the darkness and evil that we must keep at bay. We fight their wars for them, while they stay in their valley and feast."
"You are jealous."
The Sindarin king pulled away from his wife and buried his head in his hands, "I know not what I feel. But jealousy, yes, it could be. All I want is for you to be happy and for Kélion to live a life free of fear. The Noldor have this, why can we not as well?"
"We will meleth nín, trust me. Help will come and the evil will soon be forced to flee this land forever."
Thranduil looked over at his army. The doubt in his heart still gnawed at him but he pushed it away. He would trust that Elrond would come and that victory would be theirs. Looking over at Tamír, the elven king raised his sword and the Greenwood army plunged into battle.
A battle that would haunt the Sinda for the rest of his life.
"Thranduil, we cannot hold them. The left flank is already down. We will not last much longer for there are too many of them," Tamír's panicked eyes told the king everything, "Where is Elrond? Where is the Noldor army?"
The Sinda swiped his sword through the neck of a nearby orch, beheading it, before looking at his friend,
"They are not coming. They have abandoned us. Call your company back. We will not win this fight. Fall back!"
With that cry those that were left in Thranduil's army regrouped around their king and began to quickly retreat though the woods. However the yrch followed close behind taking down one eldar at a time. And it was then that the Sinda knew this would be the end of his kingdom. Elrond had condemned them to death.
The destruction of the Greenwood had begun.
Elvish Translations:
ion – son
daro - halt
meleth nín – my love
yrch – orcs
iesten – please
le hannon – thank you
le melithon anuir – i will love you forever
hîr nín – my lord
mellon nín – my friend
adar - father
orch - orc