Author's Note:
Thanks to Certh, horseyyay, Mirkwood warrior, multiple guest reviewers, WoodElfJedi, Jesus' girl 4ever, SmileyXs Ice-cream Sprinkles, Silver Ink Pen for their reviews.
Chapter 4
The cold-aired, red-carpeted winding corridors were silent and mostly devoid of life. Those she met on the way had apparently seen her exchange with the Senate; they looked at her differently than before, full of stunned awe and respect. She paid them no attention besides a brief nod when greeted and made to her rooms as quickly as possible.
Once alone, the meeting's tensions caught up with her and she sat down on a couch with a heavy sigh and sank her head in her hands. It was tiring, to say the least. By nature, she never minded politics. She had her own ambitions and her natural sense of leadership was the reason Amdír encouraged her to take part in such matters. Haldir took his customary position behind her, standing with his back at the wall between two windows reaching from the ceiling to the floor. She raised her head till her fingers brushed the lower half of her face and watched the flitting shadows over the sunlit ground. The shadows belonged to the bustling traffic outside her window. She closed her eyes briefly. When she was appointed to act as the representative for the entire system, she did not think how deeply this would affect her. Instead, she felt as if the weight of the world rested upon her shoulders.
She heard a brief knock.
"Enter." Galadriel said. She sat back until her posture was relaxed but stiff. The aide attending her was temporary, selected by Palpatine, and no doubt reporting to him all they see. She must maintain her composure. A young woman entered the door, dressed in colours of white and gold complimenting Galadriel's own dress.
"Senator Organa to see you, my lady," the servant said.
"Send him in." Not once did her voice quiver today in any form of emotion. She was pleased. The grief of her staff's deaths was still too near. She already lost one more in the hospital.
For Galadriel to maintain herself in such a difficult situation was a comfort. The servant nodded and disappeared. Soon Organa walked in with his male attendants.
"Leave us," Organa said to his aide. Galadriel gestured her own aide to do the same. Haldir was the last to leave. Once the door closed behind him, the two politicians relaxed slightly. Their eyes met and both burst out laughing.
"Well done," Senator Organa praised her, sitting down beside her. "I am impressed."
"I hope I did not come out too strong." Galadriel said, rising from her seat gracefully. She brought him a full glass before sitting down with her own.
"My lady, you were a perfect image of an affronted dignitary." Organa said before taking a small sip. He gave a shining grin. "It was a pleasure to witness."
"Their expressions were a pleasure to witness." Galadriel returned. Organa laughed and agreed.
"You went according to plan." Organa said. "You played with them just enough to keep them happy. With a little more luck, we may turn the tables in our favour."
"Still," Galadriel said. She swept up to her height in one graceful move and strode up to a nearby stand. She filled two transparent glasses and gave one to Organa, who accepted it gratefully. "I am worried this act of defiance will not sit well with everyone." She sat down and traced her thumb over the rim of her glass, collecting the cold moisture there. "I need allies, Organa. I do not wish to turn a potential ally against myself because they believed someone who did not follow the ways of the Senate is worthy to do business with."
"There are two types of people in politics, my lady," Organa said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. She looked into his eyes to find that same mixture of warmth and honesty. "We have puppets and we have leaders. Trust me, there are many politicians here who are puppets, and they follow all the rules set by the Republic. But if you are to excel for the better of your planet or system, and for the Republic, then it means going against the rules from time to time." He sat back comfortably and raised his glass. Before he took a sip, his eyebrows lifted and he gestured with his glass towards her. "You have shown your strengths, my lady. In the Senate, you embody your system. Your personality reflects the place you come from. You also become a formidable opponent… or an ally, if one is wise." Galadriel's lips quirked briefly upward at that. "The leaders among the pool of politicians will remember you, and that is what you need."
Galadriel let Organa's words sink in. Then she sat back and placed her elbow on the armrest. She covered her hand over her eyes briefly, her full glass in the other hand.
"I never expected politics to be this way," Galadriel said after a moment. She lifted her head and met Organa's patient gaze as he silently gestured her to continue. "I have made decisions for my people before. I have taken steps many would not have taken, but here it is more complicated. I am unfamiliar to these tactics." Organa's look changed to one of understanding.
"You needn't worry." Organa said. "The friends I have introduced you to among the politicians are ones I trust myself. And you give yourself little credit. The only thing you need is guidance. You manage quite well on your own."
"Thank you," Galadriel said in gratitude. "For all your help. I am not sure I would have done this much without you." Organa inclined his head and accepted the compliment graciously. Then Organa changed the subject.
"Have you received word about your investigation?" He queried.
"Well, yes," Galadriel replied. "They have told me the investigation is led by a Jedi and she is rumoured to be an Elf."
"Rumoured?" Organa repeated, noting Galadriel's choice of words. "You tell me that you have not met her?" Galadriel shook her head.
"No. I have been busy myself but as far as I know she did not ask for me." Galadriel explained.
"Jedi Investigators are known to stick strictly to their business." Organa said. He finished his drink and set it on the table between them. Galadriel looked down at her own drink before deciding she would not have it and surrendered it on the table. Then she frowned and looked up.
"As far as I recall she was not a Jedi Investigator." Galadriel said. But Organa frowned.
"Jedi Investigators are the only ones who investigate crimes." The man murmured. Then he raised his voice. "What was she called?"
"I don't know." Galadriel felt a little foolish for not remembering. She was so burdened with things, from the event of her assassination to the recent meeting with the Senate, that she did not give the matter much attention. "She was called a Jedi Sh-Shade, I believe. Or something similar."
"A Jedi Shadow?" Organa guessed. Galadriel nodded, remembering Organa knew more about the Jedi and their ranks than herself.
"Yes, that was what the Jedi Sentinels said." At her answer and much to Galadriel's surprise, Organa frowned. She learned some time before about Organa, while an amiable man, could easily be read like a book. If he frowned, it meant something was wrong. "What is it?"
But Organa shook his head to sooth her before he spoke. "Nothing. Only that… as far as I can remember, Jedi Shadows do not deal with mere investigations."
"And then what is their purpose?"
"Something darker, I believe." Organa said. "They deal with artefacts that are related to the dark side of the Force."
"So you are saying that the assassination attempt occurred by a Sith wanting to kill me?" Galadriel asked incredulously. She gave a baffled laugh. "That is very far-fetched."
"I wouldn't be so sure." Organa warned. "Remember Queen Amidala of Planet Naboo. The attack on her planet and the subsequent war brought out a Sith Lord from hiding. His name was Darth Maul and he was killed by Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was then an apprentice. His own Jedi Master died in battle. To this day, the Jedi Order do not know who perished; the Sith or his apprentice."
Galadriel shook her head.
"Folk tales!" She scoffed, but Organa remained grave.
"It is as true as you and I sitting here, my lady. The Jedi believe it, and I know they do not believe in superstitions and generations-old myths."
Galadriel wanted to negate his words further, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she could not force out her words. She was not afraid. Galadriel was rarely ever afraid for her own life. She was too stubborn, the blood she shared with the very kin who killed their own kind too thick. Galadriel would sooner pick up a weapon and fight back rather than sit and accept the offer to become a target.
No, the reason why she fell silent was because she could not reject the presence of Sith any sooner than she can reject her own power.
It coursed within her in the same way blood was life to a being. It was natural to her. The men in Arda system called it 'magic'. Such a primitive term. The Elves did not give it any name, because it was simply a part of them. For Galadriel, the power came easily. She could hear the minds of everyone about her if she chose, among other things. It had been many years since she last used it, but it was there, pulsing deep within her. She dabbled in it from an early age but learned its more complex arts from Melian, the Maia who became wife to King Thingol. For a moment, she yearned to pull on the reserves of her power but resisted. The Republic was not yet aware of the Elves' power, nor the depth of Arda's culture, and none tried to enlighten them.
No, it wasn't the time.
She returned to her senses and became aware of Organa watching her intently. His eyes were slightly narrowed and she remembered the man was observant and cautious in spite of his friendly attitude. She gave him a large, sweet smile and tried to distract him.
"You are wise for your years, Senator Organa." Galadriel said softly. She kept her voice pleasant and tilted her head slightly. Her hands pressed down on the part of white dress covering her thighs, feeling the round bumps of the gems decorating it. "I forget how old you really are."
"Oh, some believe I am ancient, I am sure." Organa said. He was not fully distracted but his mind was certainly off her queer silence. Galadriel clicked her tongue.
"Well, if you are ancient, then I am a myth." Galadriel said, eyes twinkling merrily. Organa burst out laughing.
"I forgot the length of years you have lived, my lady."
"Please do not mention it. I try not to remember."
"I apologize profusely, my lady."
"And you certainly have admirable qualities."
Organa laughed merrily. "I was very different in my youth. Marriage settled me." Galadriel gave a soft burst of laughter.
"Hm, married life suits you well then."
There was a tender smile on Organa's face.
"It does indeed." Organa said. He then apologized and explained to her he would have stayed, but was needed elsewhere soon. Then he bid her farewell.
When Organa left, Galadriel was still smiling. Organa was a young man, a politician but with a good heart. He married the queen of his planet and as rumours have it he is desperately in love with her as she is with him. The kind of person he is, it is very likely the rumours are true. She heard the sound of the door opening and closing, and looked up to see Haldir enter.
"Chancellor Palpatine's message arrived." Haldir said. "He wishes to speak to you in his office."
Galadriel's lips twitched.
"And you are playing fetch?" She teased him lightly. Haldir harrumphed as an answering laugh, a smile on his face. She stood up and tugged on her sleeves, straightening the creases. "Let us go then."
Thranduil's head was pounding.
How long they stayed discussing, Thranduil did not know. He did notice the sun reaching its zenith and finally waning to nearly an hour before twilight. They broke the meeting thrice for refreshments and other duties. This was the fourth.
He was given a room with only necessary furnishing; a single bed, a serviceable chest at the foot of the bed, a circular seat for meditation. He refreshed himself and ate light meal. Then he lay outstretched on his back, the soft but firm feel of the bed comforting. He laced his fingers over his chest.
"I don't belong here," Thranduil murmured. He stared up at the ceiling, noting absently the smooth flawless paint. While he felt at home in the Order itself, the temple had lost its appeal to him a year after he was knighted.
The other Jedi treated him differently, with varying degrees of hostility. He bore it well, even managed to stay patient when it ran thin. He was not alone. Others from the Arda system felt the same and he witnessed them withdraw from their comrades. They were only a small group from the system. Thranduil believed they mounted up to almost thirty, possibly forty, but not more. Making friends with those who hailed from Arda system like him was not possible; they were too different. But the feeling of isolation in a group you were meant to belong and rely on was too heavy. When the year turned, Thranduil finally decided he could not bear it any longer and sought Yoda's presence. There, he unloaded his entire burden, explained everything that happened and requested to return home. Yoda granted his request.
He was not averse to Yoda's offer to take a Padawan or teach the Initiates as he led him to believe. When Thranduil took the vows of Knighthood, he assumed he would bide them. But steadily, he felt the yearning of a family to call his own. Jedi were not sworn to celibacy, but Thranduil balked at the idea. Better to be married or not at all. The idea of dalliances disgusted him. To work with younglings, like Yoda suggested, was an offer Thranduil dreamed of. But his heart was too gentle, too soft towards children. He would most likely rule with his heart and not his head.
Then his thoughts wandered to their long meeting. Thranduil inhaled, held his breath and exhaled. It didn't hold much importance; though he had the feeling both Yoda and Mace did not touch the most important events. He would wait for them to address them this time when they met, but if they wouldn't, he'd insist.
Inhaling deeply till his chest, Thranduil pressed both his hands on his face and exhaled. With renewed determination, he sat up, swung his legs off the side of the bed and tugged on his boots. He glanced at the mirror and chuckled to himself. Unlike the traditional braids on either side of his head customary to many of his kind, Thranduil braided all of his hair into small long braids. It was a bold move, but it complimented his features. Grinning, he wondered what Galadriel would say. Knowing her, she would tease him mercilessly. His father would shake his head; Celeborn would insist they were not related.
He left the room and made his way through the corridors until he reached his destination. Yoda had chosen a meeting room instead of the more formal council chamber. The room was built in the form of a hexagonal and a vaulted ceiling. With the evening approaching, the room was thrown in the colour of dusky orange. Rich red carpet was spread in the middle, beneath the long polished table and chairs. Already Yoda and Mace were seated, waiting for him.
Mace opened his mouth.
"I am on time." Thranduil said before Mace could speak. The dark-skinned Jedi closed his mouth and raised one brow in a silent way to accept his challenge.
"That's the first since you reached here." Mace said dryly. Thranduil realized he walked into a trap and had no response ready. He narrowed his eyes at Mace but decided the other Jedi won this round. He sat down without answering and ignored the man's smirk.
"Spoke to you, we have on many topics." Yoda said.
"And none of them were related to the ones that are my main concern." Thranduil said. Mace's smirk disappeared and he opened his mouth to chide Thranduil but Yoda cast him a warning look. Thranduil continued. "We must discuss the matters I mentioned to you earlier, along with the recent events concerning Galadriel's life."
"Speak, Thranduil. Listen, we will and offer aid where we can." Yoda said.
Thranduil's brow furrowed.
"Over the last three months, we have lost twenty Ellyth to slavery," Thranduil said. Slavery, for females, worked in a way that made Thranduil's blood run cold. They almost never found kind masters, and their purpose only led to more sorrow. He himself pursued the girls' captors, but lost them on a planet when they disappeared without a trace. It was an event that weighed heavily on Thranduil's heart. But as vast the galaxy was, there was no way he could find them. They were most likely scattered over the planets, alive… or otherwise. "I saved one such group but still at a heavy cost." Thranduil leaned forward. "I need more Jedi with me. I cannot protect the system myself."
"Many of the Jedi are already positioned throughout the galaxy," Mace said. Thranduil's eyes shifted to him.
"We have over ten thousand Jedi who have been Knighted. You cannot tell me you cannot spare a few." Thranduil said irritably. Mace raised a hand, palm outward, in a gesture of peace.
"I am not saying that," Mace soothed him. "I am merely stating that we will have to reassign a few Jedi to make some available for your system. Believe me, contrary to the Senate, we do not wish to lose Arda system as our allies." And Thranduil did believe him. For all his misgivings towards the dark-skinned man, Thranduil knew Mace had a good heart and an honest persona. He was not the kind to be deceitful. Besides, Thranduil enjoyed their little squabbles, even if he wouldn't admit them aloud.
A brief silence fell as each Jedi dwelled in his own circle of thoughts. When Thranduil finally stirred, he became aware of Yoda's thoughtful expression directed towards him. But the Grandmaster made no effort to speak and if Thranduil would ask, he knew he would not get an answer until Yoda was ready to give one. So he asked a question that was weighing his mind ever since he set foot in Coruscant.
"What of Senator Galadriel? Has she been given protection? Is her assassination attempt investigated?"
"There are no further attempts on the Senator's life," Mace said.
"It has only been more than a day," Thranduil retorted.
"She has been given the protection of six Jedi Sentinels. And yes, her assassination attempt is investigated."
"Six?" Thranduil echoed. "That is an extravagant number."
"Contrary to what the people of Arda system believe, this conference is very important to the Republic."
"I understand," Thranduil said after a brief pause. Here on this subject, neither of them was interested in playful banter. Yoda watched them carefully, his long nails scraping soundlessly over the surface of the table.
"A mission I will have, soon," Yoda said. He hopped off the chair and ambled up to the window. The sky was turning rapidly from blue to varying shades of sunset outside. Yoda bent over his cane, his eyes peering at the two younger Jedi sitting about the table. "Need both of you, for it, I will."
A stunned silence followed. Mace was the one to gain control of his tongue first.
"You cannot be serious, Master Yoda," Mace said.
"Me and him?" Thranduil questioned incredulously. "Master Yoda, that is highly unlikely."
Mace seemed emboldened by his words.
"There is no way we can work together," Mace agreed. Yoda only narrowed his large eyes at the pair of them.
"See it you do not. Capable of great things, both of you are." The Grandmaster paused and added dryly, "If you work together, that is."
"And there is the core of our problem," Mace murmured, loud enough for all of them to hear. Thranduil smirked. He heard Mace had a humour in spite of his seriousness.
"And at last, there is something to agree on." Thranduil said, raising his eyes to the heavens at the unforeseen miracle. The humour made Mace's smile grow wider. He looked younger, much more open. "Now, what about investigation of Senator Galadriel's attempted assassination?"
"A Jedi of your own kind is leading the operation. We believe Senator would trust her own kind more."
Thranduil frowned. He heard of no Elf choosing the field of Jedi Investigator. The life of an Investigator simply did not suit that of an Elf. Most chose the more adventurous life of a Jedi Guardian or the content life of a Jedi Instructor.
"I didn't know an Elf had become an Investigator."
Mace glanced at Yoda and looked back at Thranduil.
"She is a Jedi Shadow," Mace answered.
At the very mention of 'shadow', Thranduil felt suspicion rise in him like a vine, clutching him. It did not stem from experience, but seeped from the fear and mystery surrounding this particular branch of the Jedi Order.
The name was aptly given. They were the shadow of the Jedi Order, walking the fine line between the light and the dark side. They were exposed to the dark side of the Force more than anyone other Jedi. They were silent, lethal and cautious of everyone and everything. Many Jedi revered them, others feared them. The Shadows were so finely attuned to the Force that a single tendril of the dark side in an object or a being pushed them to paranoia-like emotion.
They were handpicked and held in prestigious ranks. Not everyone survives the training to become a Shadow. It was gruelling, life-threatening and many trainees lost themselves to the dark side. When that happened, there was only one way to stop them; the other Shadows killed them.
But for all the mystery and suspense around them, the Shadows were a necessary lot. Their presence was reason of the destruction of Sith artefacts, temples and anyone who dared to take the path of the Sith.
And one thing was certain; never trust a Jedi Shadow.
But for the moment, Thranduil returned his attention to main function of a Shadow.
"No Jedi Shadow investigates a crime unless it is connected to the dark side of the Force." Thranduil said. He narrowed his eyes at them and frowned. "What really happened during the attempt on Galadriel's life?"
"We have not been informed with everything, and Shadows always give details at the end." Mace said. Thranduil could not deny what he said was true.
"Meet her later, you will." Yoda said. "Occupied at the moment, she is."
"Will the Senate accept Arda system and offer it the same privileges as the rest of the system?" Thranduil asked. He was not one to play the games of politics, but Yoda and Mace, having lived longer in Coruscant with connection to the Senate, would know more.
"At the moment, everything is uncertain." Mace said. "The Senate makes its own mind, at its own counsel and its own pace. We can only do our duty as Jedi and leave the Senate to make their choice."
The words gave Thranduil no comfort but Mace wasn't the comforting type. So Thranduil accepted the bitter words even if they were hard to swallow.
Later, he was dismissed and Thranduil went straight towards his room. He wished for some solitude and strode quickly.
He was already at his door when he felt a solid cuff at the back of his head. Thranduil's head jerked forward from the blow. Snarling unintentionally, Thranduil turned around but stopped short at the sight of a handsomely grinning face, framed by bright golden hair.
"You have the audacity to show your face here and not tell me." Glorfindel teased. "You wound me."
Thranduil's angry words died in his throat and he laughed instead. Pulling Glorfindel into a tight embrace, Thranduil thumped his back heartedly. Glorfindel did the same, just as earnest. Thranduil pulled back, his head still smarting by Glorfindel's blow.
"Your hand is still as heavy as ever." Thranduil told him.
"You are as fragile as ever." Glorfindel retorted.
Thranduil studied Glorfindel carefully. He was dressed in light brown inner robes with dark brown outer robe. His dark brown embroidered sash with a light brown background around his waist was secured with a belt. His bright gold hair was pulled into a single ponytail. With the grin in place, Glorfindel was the same as ever, except perhaps something deep in his eyes changed. Thranduil could not decide what it was.
"Done staring?" Glorfindel asked with a raised brow. Thranduil only grinned.
"For now." Thranduil said.
"I see. I knew I had grown more handsome."
"Clearly you have not lost your vanity." Thranduil said. He continued to look at Glorfindel. "You seem different."
"Oh?" Glorfindel asked. There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes, mixed with the same something he noticed before. "Perhaps if you contacted me frequently, I would not seem so different." Thranduil laughed as Glorfindel continued, "Come. I have just been freed from teaching a class and I am famished."
They raided the kitchens and chose a small dining area which was empty. Jedi of all ranks usually dined in the larger dining areas built in the form of halls rather than these smaller rooms. They exchanged bits of information and doings between bites.
"Have you met Galadriel?" Thranduil questioned. Glorfindel patted his lips with a handkerchief and shook his head.
"No, much to my regret. The Initiates will be chosen by masters soon. I must prepare them beforehand. I barely have time these days."
Glorfindel was knighted before Thranduil. As soon as the Elf became a Jedi Knight, he chose the path of a Jedi Instructor. To Glorfindel, teaching came easily to him. He was patient, but disciplined and refused to see nonsense among his students. His sternness was mixed with just the right amount of softness and leniency. Still, Thranduil never expected the Elf to teach Force-sensitive students, who were just children. Glorfindel always struck him as the kind to teach older students. Thranduil said as much.
"I didn't expect to teach children either," Glorfindel answered, picking nearby fruit and using a knife to shave off its outer coat. He cut the firm pulp into halves, juice dribbling down on the plate and offered one half to Thranduil, who accepted it. "Yoda is trying to convince me to accept a Padawan now. But I want to have some more expertise in dealing with students before settling with one Padawan."
"I don't think you need expertise. You have the talent to make any nervous student comfortable with you." Thranduil cut his half of the fruit into smaller pieces. Glorfindel did not bother. He took bites of his own half of the fruit, swallowing before speaking again.
"So do you," Glorfindel returned. "And here you are, a Jedi Guardian who prefers to be called a Jedi Knight instead. You need to start getting comfortable with titles."
"I think my gesture towards younglings belongs more to a parent than a teacher," Thranduil said. "And I am fine the way I am."
Glorfindel only shook his head, wiping the juice off his fingers on his handkerchief. Thranduil narrowed his eyes at his friend, last pieces of his fruit forgotten.
"You know why I left." Thranduil said. "I had enough of some Jedi here belonging to certain species, staring at us as if we are some strange creatures belonging to a passing gypsy caravan or circus."
"Things have gotten better," Glorfindel soothed. "I expect we were the first group of people to walk into their temple and they simply did not know what to do with us." Thranduil snorted in disbelief. Glorfindel was old, very old in fact, when he entered the Jedi Order. But his strength in the Force was strong and the Jedi Council always made some exceptions. Glorfindel was among them. Thranduil returned to his fruit and studied the broad-shouldered, powerful build of his friend.
"You expect me to believe they were intimidated by us?" Thranduil said once he finished the last of his fruit. Glorfindel assumed a serious expression.
"Of course," Glorfindel said. He stilled, frowned briefly and chuckled softly. Thranduil threw him a confused look before becoming aware of someone loitering at the open doorway. His white teeth flashing in a grin, Glorfindel winked and raised his voice.
"Very much like the youngling hiding by the doorway."
Thranduil tilted his body to a side to look behind Glorfindel. Two large eyes peeked from the shadow of the doorway. Glorfindel turned on his bench and beckoned kindly at the child.
"Come in, child."
When the youngling stepped into full light, Thranduil saw it was a Dwarf-child. He was smaller than other children, with light brown hair and a stout build.
"He is nearly twenty years old." Glorfindel said, placing his arm around the child's shoulders and pulling him close. "Farin, son of Gamil," Glorfindel introduced the Initiate. "Farin, this is my friend, Thranduil Oropherion, a Jedi who is looking after Arda system."
"Hello there, young one." Thranduil said, leaning forward to look at the Dwarf-child over the table. Farin's thick hair was cut short, just below his ears with only one braid hanging behind his right ear.
"He is still learning. He only speaks the language of his own people."
Thranduil nodded wordlessly and watched Glorfindel bent his head and spoke softly to the Dwarf-child. Dwarven language was one of the Dwarves' closely guarded secrets, along with their real names which they did not even write on their tombs. Glorfindel's personality was soothing and comforting. Farin answered Glorfindel. The Dwarf-child bowed quickly towards Thranduil and turned for the door.
Glorfindel watched Farin scuttle way. Chuckling, Glorfindel turned around in his seat and faced Thranduil, his eyes meeting his.
Suddenly, Thranduil's smile faded. He rose from his seat, and with one swipe of his hand, pushed the table between them to the side. Glorfindel instinctively leaned back in surprise. Thranduil grabbed Glorfindel by his collar and forced him to stand.
"Look at me." Thranduil ordered. The muscle in Glorfindel's jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth but Glorfindel looked up and met his eyes squarely. Thranduil searched his eyes earnestly, let go of his collar and set back in his chair, legs too weak to hold him up. "You bonded." Thranduil said faintly.
"Thranduil-"
"You are married." Thranduil hissed. Reaching up, he pulled Glorfindel back into his seat and straightened the table to give some semblance of normal conversation. Glorfindel leaned and tried to grab Thranduil's wrist but Thranduil shook it away. "Glorfindel, what in the blazes were you thinking?"
"I love her." Glorfindel said quietly. Thranduil had to strain to hear his voice. "I have spent too long alone."
Thranduil's eyes flitted up to the corner of the ceiling where a security camera was installed. Looking at Glorfindel, he lowered his voice to a bare whisper and shifted to Sindarin.
"If the Jedi Council finds out, you will be stripped of your title and turned an outcast!"
"Will you tell them?" Glorfindel asked with his voice just as soft as Thranduil's. The Sinda glared at the married Jedi but relented.
"No," Thranduil responded finally. "If they hear of it, it will never be from me."
"Thank you."
"Do not thank me yet." Thranduil said sharply. "Glorfindel, if someone finds out-"
"They won't." Glorfindel broke him off curtly. Thranduil stifled a sigh of frustration. It was clear Glorfindel was not willing to entertain the possibility.
"Every Elf, Jedi or otherwise, will know you are bonded just by looking at you," Thranduil said. "The only reason it took me this long was because I didn't even consider the option."
"No Elf would betray his own kind," Glorfindel said, spreading his hands wide. Thranduil scoffed him.
"Our history clearly explains otherwise. And the Jedi are capable of falling to the dark side, regardless of their race."
Glorfindel clenched his teeth until the muscle of his lower jaw jumped out. Thranduil studied him and then shook his head. The Vanya was stubborn. But there was little, nothing at all, really, that could be done. Glorfindel was bonded and it cannot be reversed. Thranduil rubbed his hand over his face wearily.
"Who else knows?"
"Erestor knows." Glorfindel answered, looking away from Thranduil. "He looks after her for me."
Thranduil felt as if he was tired than ever before with the burden of this heavy secret.
"This will amount to nothing," Thranduil said finally. Glorfindel gave a small hesitant smile.
"Thank you," Glorfindel said. "You are a good friend."
"I can't say the same for you." Thranduil answered tiredly. Glorfindel snorted in amusement. "I hope you know what you are doing."
"One would do strange things for love." Glorfindel said quietly. Thranduil fought the intense urge to roll his eyes.
"Ah. Something Celeborn keeps insisting." Thranduil muttered under his breath.
Glorfindel's smile became knowing.
"You can only understand it once you wed… if you wed."
Thranduil did not know what to say as an answer, so he kept his silence. When he finally spoke, he started Glorfindel out of his own reverie.
"You enjoy it here." Thranduil stated. He left Sindarin this time. Glorfindel's smile never disappeared since Thranduil declared he would not betray him. This time it widened.
"I do. I do indeed."
Author's Note:
What do you think?
Replies to Anon:
Thanks to guest reviewers for their reviews!
Guest (1): Oh dear, I haven't updated the Hunt in a long while, haven't I? I will remedy that. :) Thank you for your review! That is so sweet!
Guest (2): It all depends on the number of reviews I get. :)