Wrath and Ruin

by KimicThranduilion

The battle with the Great Serpents of the North brought nothing but wrath and ruin for the wood elves. The aftermath is bitter – particularly so for their great King now laid low by the destruction of dragon flame. A short tale of Thranduil's healing and how he and those around him adapt to his new, life-changing injuries. Thranduil-centric later on. Disclaimer: It's not mine!

13. Chapter 13

A/N: Firstly apologies for the huge delay in this chapter…real life really got in the way for a while there – started a new job, Christmas and so much more – but it's here now and extra-long to make up for it. I hope you enjoy. P.S. I've taken as much care as possible to do my research and not come across badly/ignorant/condescending in regard to having a disability (though please bear in mind the character does have some negative thoughts toward himself and his circumstances in this regard) but if I have in any way still not done it justice feel free to PM me and (politely) let me know. Now, on with the story…

"Good morning Aran-nin, how are -" Calelon cut himself off with a soft gasp of surprise.

"What, what is it Calelon?" Lord Arahaelon crowded up behind the royal healer in an attempt to see over his shoulder.

Crown Commander Aglardaer did the same on Calelon's other side, both of them ever anxious over Thranduil and Calelon stepped aside so that they might also be able to see what had surprised him.

It was Thranduil's empty bed - the bedclothes thrown hastily to the side - when in fact there should have been a still soundly slumbering Elven King ensconced within.

"His bed is empty so what?" Arahaelon snapped. "That is no reason to act so concerned Calelon."

"You do not understand Hir-nin, Aran Thranduil should still be abed and very much asleep; the medicine he now takes does not let him rise as early as he once did."

Arahaelon looked perplexed but before he could say anything Aglardaer interrupted. "Perhaps a full bladder caused him to wake and he is simply in his bathing chamber."

Calelon wasn't so sure but before he could do or say anything more Lord Arahaelon had already stepped past him and was making his way toward said bath chamber.

"Thranduil?" The regent's voice echoed somewhat slightly in the large, mostly marble room but there was no answering reply and Arahaelon appeared again looking even more perplexed. "He is not in there," he reported simply.

"Then he is not here at all," Aglardaer announced with no little amount of worry. For they had already passed through the King's equally empty sitting room. "Where could he have got to?"

Memory of the rather odd question the King had asked him the night before saw Calelon smile slightly. "I think I may know…come, aphado-nin."

With a swish of his robes the royal healer spun around and led the way back through Thranduil's rooms into the hall beyond.

Calelon kept their pace swift as they moved down a floor towards the nobles' quarters. They rounded a corner and the healer was surprised to come face to face with Mithrandir.

"Ah, good morning Calelon, my good Lords," the wizard gave a small bow of his head in slight deference. "Are you seeking after Elrond as well?"

"Nay," Calelon answered for them all, "we are seeking Aran Thranduil."

"Here? In Elrond's rooms?" Mithrandir was incredulous.

Arahaelon was equally so. "Mithrandir is right Calelon, this would be the last place I would expect to find Thranduil. He and Elrond are not exactly on speaking terms as well you know."

Calelon gave a little shrug of his shoulders and reached out to knock on the door before them, Elrond's door. "Let us see shall we?"

They waited a moment and when there was no answer the royal healer rapped at the door again, this time a tad louder. When still no answer came Calelon gave a cautious twist of the doorknob and pushed the heavy oaken door inwards.

There, slumped in two well-padded leather armchairs, in front of a now cold, dead fireplace was one Elven King and one Lord of Imladris both fast asleep. Their soft, sleepy breaths sounded loud in the stunned silence of the room as each of the four - Commander, Regent, healer and wizard - took in the unlikely scene before them.

First to come back to his senses, Calelon motioned for them to leave so that the two rulers might continue their obviously well needed rest. Alas, whether it was the slight creak of the door or the shuffling noises of their robes, some soft, nigh imperceptible noise saw Elrond startle awake. The Peredhel Lord stared at the intruders in his room in bewilderment for a few seconds before he seemed to give himself a mental shake, stood and silently motioned for them all to take their leave of Thranduil.

Outside in the hall, with the door to the room safely sealed shut behind them Elrond stretched and rolled his neck before he focused upon them. "Good morning… I presume you are looking for me?" The Peredhel Lord frowned slightly, "I didn't mean to fall asleep there - I certainly did not mean for Thranduil to fall asleep there either; it cannot be comfortable for him."

"He came to visit you last night?" Calelon hazarded a guess.

Elrond nodded before Lord Arahaelon spoke up.

"How did you guess such a thing, Calelon? As I said earlier this would be the last place I would have thought to find Thranduil."

"Aran-nin asked for the whereabouts of Hir Elrond's rooms as I bid him good night. I had a feeling he would visit you," the royal healer spun to look at Elrond directly. "But I did not think he would visit you so immediately. I rather thought he might have left it until some point later on today," Calelon finished with a small huff of amusement.

"Well Elrond?" Mithrandir butted in with his usual disregard for social niceties. "Did you find out the reason I brought you here? And were you able to do anything about it?"

Before the Peredhel Lord could answer, Calelon held up a slim hand to stop him. "Come, this is no discussion to be having in a public hallway, and besides that we have not offered Hir Elrond, a guest, so much as a cup of tea for his breakfast as yet. Let us not make the opinions his people already hold of us as being wild and uncouth true."

"Calelon is right Mithrandir. Come," Lord Arahaelon's deep voice was laced with firm command. "Let us retire to my suite and call for breakfast. We can discuss Lord Elrond's late night visit there."

~o~

"So Adar simply showed up in your rooms out of the blue last night?" Princess Rithel's voice was filled with exasperated incredulity. As though she fully believed her father capable of such a thing yet still found it incredible that he would actually deign to do it.

Lord Arahaelon had extended his breakfast invite to include the young acting Queen knowing how worried the silver haired Princess had been getting at her father's previously burgeoning recovery coming to a halt.

Elrond smiled as he remembered the fright he'd gotten when the Elven King had so suddenly appeared before him. "Aye, he arrived apropos of nothing and we spoke at length…"

Elrond hesitated a moment as he debated with himself how much to reveal in light of the promise he'd made to Thranduil the night prior. But realising that his audience, who were among Thranduil's nearest and dearest, seemed to be fully up to speed on all the blonde's injuries the Peredhel Lord continued. "He eventually confided in me about his injuries, the dragon fire burns and the pain that they had left him with that was preventing him from making a full recovery."

"And you were able to help him?" The Princess unwittingly repeated Mithrandir's earlier question.

All eyes in the room were upon Elrond - Lord Arahaelon, Crown Commander Aglardaer, Calelon, Mithrandir and Princess Rithel all waited with seemingly baited breath for his answer, their eyes wide and filled with a mixture of worry and hope. Thranduil was indeed loved.

"Yes, I know of some…magic - old, strong magic - that was perfect for this particular situation. It is a spell concerning air and its cooling properties."

"And you are certain of this spell - that it will help? That it will hold? That Aran-nin will no longer need to depend on opioid medication?" Crown Commander Aglardaer's voice was soft but held a note of urgency. "I do not mean to cast doubt on your abilities Hir Elrond, it is just that the malice associated with dragon fire is not easily overcome…so we have been told."

"And so we have seen," Lord Arahaelon added grimly.

"I am not in the least offended Commander," Elrond smiled round at the table. "I understand your worries well enough but I do promise you that this spell will hold. The magic I used is old - indeed it is of the elves of Eregion - more powerful than most other magics here on Arda. Its very strength is what has caused Aran Thranduil to be put so deeply to sleep. But he shall awaken and then you shall all be able to see for yourselves - the spell will hold and it will help."

"And what is more, now that the evil of dragon's breath no longer maligns the wounds - for the spell was also powerful enough to rid the King of that devilry completely - they shall at last be able to heal properly." Elrond turned slightly in his seat to focus more upon the royal healer Calelon. "Aran Thranduil will still scar rather badly, there is nothing I can do for that I'm afraid, but the wounds will at least close over and there will be no further risk of infection nor any further complications."

"My Lord Elrond that is most marvellous news! I cannot even begin to think how to thank you." Princess Rithel was beaming from ear to ear.

The noticeable, nigh palpable tension in the room had disappeared. It was instead relief that filled the room in a heady surge as all at the table visibly relaxed for the first time since they'd sat down.

Mithrandir harrumphed. He had a disgustingly smug smile on his face. "Do you see now Elrond, that I was not meddling - that I indeed had good reason for bringing you here? I hope this shall teach you to have a little bit more faith."

Elrond gave a small laugh at the grey wizard's haughty words. "Faith in the ways of wizards is something I do not know if I shall ever fully come by Mithrandir. But I will allow that on this occasion you were right to bring me here. That much I shall grant you. And I must say I am pleased to have been able to offer help to an old friend, regardless of what has become of said friendship over the years."

And Elrond was truly glad; he could only imagine the pain that Thranduil had been suffering prior to his arrival. And he had no need to imagine the effect it had had upon his loved ones - that much had been clear for him to see from the very first minute he'd arrived. There had been a desperation to them, quiet but potent fear and now…now light once again shone clear in their eyes and their smiles came unforced.

"We are most grateful that you came, that you helped Adar. Again I thank you." Rithel placed her hand on her heart and bowed her head deeply toward Elrond.

"I too am glad that you have been able to help Aran-nin; he'd been making great strides in his recovery and I'd been desperately worried when it came to a halt, necessary though it was." Calelon repeated the actions of the Princess, hand on heart followed by a deep bow of the head. "Aran Thranduil can move forward now with the more strenuous components of his rehabilitation without the spectre of dragon fire looming large. Le fael Hir Elrond."

Elrond acknowledged them both with a bow of his own head. Across the table Mithrandir winked at him and Elrond laughed again before he settled down to eat the lavish breakfast that all in the room now actually had an appetite for.

~o~

Thranduil smoothed a stray hair back behind his ear and slipped on his earring - a gold hoop dotted with a single, large diamond. The King stood back, gave himself a once over in the mirror and satisfied with the image before him, made his way back through his suite and out onto his large personal balcony.

Thranduil seated himself at the table that had been set; its polished silver and crystal glinted cheerily in the early afternoon sun as the blonde arranged himself comfortably before he stared out across the beautiful expanse of his Wood that the balcony afforded him.

He was meeting with Elrond, and he was somewhat nervous about it… though perhaps nervous was the wrong word. It was more that Thranduil had conflicting feelings about the meeting to come, the meeting he had summoned the Peredhel Lord to. But there was no backing out now; it had been five days since his impromptu healing session with Elrond and at last the Elven King had to admit to himself that the pain was truly gone and it was not coming back.

It had taken him a while to believe it; he'd spent the past week tense and nervous, hardly able to concentrate on anything so consumed was he with a looming dread that at any moment the fiery, burning, biting pain would rear its ugly head again. But it never did and Thranduil at last felt ready to accept the fact that it never would.

He was also ready to thank the one who'd made such a thing possible.

And so hence his conflicting feelings. For Thranduil was grateful to Elrond - more grateful that he could possibly put into words, more grateful than he knew how to show. And yet show it he must. But how did one go about thanking another for saving them from a pain that most likely would have driven them either mad or to sail and leave Arda behind? (For such dark thoughts had come to the Elven King more and more in the days before Elrond had so abruptly appeared.)

There was but one thing Thranduil thought would be suitable enough to convey the depth of his gratitude - the offer of a blood debt - a solemn promise that he would do anything Elrond asked of him so long as it was in his power to do so.

It was a big thing to offer - not at all a thing to be given lightly - yet it was the only thing that seemed appropriate to the blonde. Of course, he would do the other things expected; he'd throw a feast in Elrond's honour and the King also had one or two ideas for gifts he was sure the Peredhel Lord would love. But such trite trinkets did not cover the debt Thranduil felt he now owed the other and so he would offer this most precious of promises, despite how deeply it galled the prideful Sindar part of him to willingly offer himself up in debt to one of the Noldor.

Yet none would ever accuse Thranduil of being an ingrate and so as Galion opened the door and introduced Elrond the King firmed his resolve and stood to greet his Peredhel guest.

~o~

"Suilad Thranduil," Elrond gave an acknowledging dip of his head.

The Peredhel Lord took in the scene before him as he offered his greeting; Thranduil sat alone at a small but beautifully set table, his wooded kingdom a stunning backdrop behind the exquisite stone carved rails of the balcony. Thranduil had summoned him…for what? A meal or for them to share a bottle of wine? Was this to be the other's way of thanking him for the help Elrond had been glad to offer those few nights ago?

For Elrond had not seen the blonde since the night he'd used Vilya to banish Thranduil's dragon inflicted pain. When he had returned to his rooms after the breakfast meeting with the King's nearest and dearest said King had been nowhere in sight and he'd not had the chance nor occasion to call upon Thranduil since. But now he had been summoned…

"Please Elrond do not just stand there - sit already - and you needn't look so wary, I simply thought to offer you to share in a champagne tea with me."

"A champagne tea?" Elrond could not hope to hide the confusion that clouded his face.

He knew the wood elves and their King in particular were very fond of their alcoholic beverages but champagne tea sounded…well, rather disgusting.

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face for Thranduil laughed at him as he sank slowly into the offered chair.

"Truly Elrond, relax - tis just an afternoon tea. You know the sort - tiny sandwiches, scones, cakes and the like but with the wonderful addition of champagne."

Elrond settled himself more comfortably in his chair before he smirked over at Thranduil. "And why the champagne?"

"Why not?" Thranduil countered. "I find I am in a rather jubilant mood; being free from all the ills of dragon fire tends to do that to one, and so what could be more fitting for such a mood than champagne?"

The Elven King gave a wave of his hand and Galion produced a bottle with a flourish and poured them each a tall sparkling glass.

Thranduil took his and gave it a gentle tap against Elrond's. "Galu."

Elrond tapped back, "Galu."

He sipped at the bubbly liquid - it was crisp and on the sweeter scale of the champagne spectrum - a perfect match for the range of tiny cakes and other cream delicacies a sudden flux of servants began to lay out before them.

The Peredhel savoured another few sips before the last dish was laid out and Thranduil dismissed both the servants and his loyal butler with effusive thanks.

"Well Elrond do not stand on ceremony - eat up - do not let the kitchen's good work go to waste."

Elrond smiled and helped himself to a small but rather enticing looking cream cake, "hannon-le."

Thranduil nodded in satisfaction as Elrond popped the confection in his mouth before the blonde began to fiddle with the stem of his glass, twirling it first one way and then the other, utterly ignoring the food he'd just commanded Elrond to eat.

Elrond helped himself to something else, a cute crust-less egg sandwich, and watched from under his lashes as Thranduil continued to play with rather than drink his alcohol. A thing most unlike the wine loving King.

Elrond surreptitiously watched this behaviour as he made quick work of another few delicacies (they truly were delicious) before he cleared his throat to catch Thranduil's obviously wandering attention.

"Will you not speak of what is on your mind Thranduil? You told me to relax yet you sit there as stiff as a statue - save for your hands which have done naught but fidget since I arrived."

The blonde glared sharply at him before he fumbled for something at his side that he then thrust out toward Elrond.

"For you."

"For me?" Elrond echoed dumbly.

He looked at the object that had been thrust into his hands. It was a small parcel, nay - a gift, judging by the beautiful paper it was wrapped in complete with an elaborate silk bow.

"Yes for you - a small gift - a little token of my gratitude. I hope it pleases you?"

Elrond took the question as permission to open the gift, which he did slowly - careful not to unnecessarily ruin the beautiful wrappings. Inside was a book on Second Age healing lore - a book Elrond had long searched various libraries in hopes of finding - fully intact and in beautiful condition.

A small noise of surprise escaped him before he sufficiently gathered his wits enough to stop gaping down at the book and to look up and thank Thranduil.

"Le fael, truly you do me a great kindness in gifting me this book." Elrond hesitated but he had to ask. "Are you certain you wish to give away something so valuable to your libraries?"

Thranduil waved his hand. "It is but a small gesture Elrond, you will make far better use of it so please do accept it."

Elrond smiled wide and happy. "I shall accept it – again, hannon-le. This is a most generous and unlooked for gift."

The King shrugged and again waved off his thanks, "It is but a tiny way to show you my appreciation for your help the other night."

"There is no need for you to reciprocate for that in any way Thranduil. Truly, I was happy to be able to help."

But Thranduil shook his head, "on the contrary Elrond, I must thank you. I do not think you truly grasp just how much you have helped me and by extension my realm."

"Oh come now Thranduil, I do not think -" Elrond began but was cut off by Thranduil slamming his glass down onto the table so violently that all the other plates shook with a clamour of fine porcelain and bone china.

"Nay, Elrond you do not understand! You have no idea of the depth of pain I was in…and the only solution was to drug me ever deeper into oblivion. Indeed opioid sickness had already begun to take hold of me…I…I am ashamed to say I had begun to despair…begun to think the unthinkable - to think about sailing."

Elrond felt his eyes widen at the confession. As mighty a King as Oropher had been and as fine a growing leader the lovely Princess Rithel seemed to be, it was Thranduil who held the Woodland Realm together. It was he that every elf in the realm openly admired and loved. Without him…

Elrond suddenly understood why Mithrandir had said that the wood elves as a whole had needed his urgent help if that was the way Thranduil had begun to think.

"So," Thranduil was speaking again, "to now be freed from that wretched pain, free to finally pursue my rehabilitation to its end - surely you must see why I feel as though I must show you the full extent of my gratitude."

Elrond gave an acknowledging nod of his head, "I understand and I fully accept this 'champagne tea' and the wonderful book of lore. Again hannon-le mellon."

"That is not all I have to offer you."

"Oh…well really Thranduil - this," Elrond gave a gesture that encompassed the table along with a tiny wave of the book he still held, "this is all more than enough. Truly."

Thranduil shook his head again, "It is nowhere near enough Elrond. You secured my continued life here on Arda and you think that all I would offer you in thanks are cakes, champagne and a book?" The blonde gave a derisory snort of amusement before he fell serious once more.

"Nay Elrond, the gratitude I feel towards what you've done for me goes far deeper than such tiny tokens. In fact, I owe you a debt."

Elrond opened his mouth ready to refuse but was silenced ere he'd even gathered breath by a sharp gesture of Thranduil's hand.

"I do - I owe you a debt and so I humbly offer you this…a promise."

Elrond watched as Thranduil withdrew a small but beautifully ornamented knife from somewhere about his person. The blonde then held out the same hand he'd just used to silence Elrond palm side up and pressed the beautiful and wickedly sharp looking blade to it.

"I offer you a blood debt - a lifelong promise that you may call upon once at any time. With this blood debt you may ask anything of me and so long as it is within my power to do or give then it shall be done as you ask."

Elrond snapped his gaze up from where he'd been staring at the lethal looking point of the blade pressed into the soft flesh of Thranduil's bejewelled palm to instead stare deeply into Thranduil's ice blue eyes. Any sound of protest the Peredhel wanted to make died in his throat at what he saw in the other's eyes.

There was some nervousness and no small amount of determination but mostly there was gratitude, pure and simple, and Elrond knew that to refuse Thranduil this gesture would be an insult of the gravest kind.

This promise was a huge thing for the prideful King to offer; perhaps the grandest and most expansive gesture he could give, not to mention the huge amount of trust he was placing in Elrond to not abuse such a precious promise.

Elrond drew a deep breath before he gave a short, clipped nod of his head. "Very well Thranduil, I equally humbly accept your offer of the blood debt."

Thranduil said nothing more, only gave a small, tight lipped smile as he drew a shallow silver tray beneath his hand and then cut into it in one neat slice. Poppy red blood welled up and the Elven King held his bleeding hand out for Elrond to clasp.

Elrond did so without so much as a flinch and Thranduil's smile grew a little wider.

"By the promise of my own blood I hereby declare that I Thranduil Oropherion owe you Elrond Eärendilion a debt that may be claimed once in regard to anything whatsoever you shall desire from me that is in my power to give. May Eru himself curse me should I fail to adhere to the promise I give you this day. Naw."

"Naw." Elrond repeated the final binding phrase, bowed his head and gave their bloodied hands an extra squeeze.

Ritual done, Thranduil pulled back his injured palm and began to expertly bandage it with a small roll of soft white linen he pulled from his robe pocket.

"Galion," Thranduil called even as he busied himself with tying off a knot single handed. "Would you please see to Elrond?"

Galion appeared, a small silver basin in one hand and a soft looking white towel in the other. "Of course Aran-nin."

The dark haired butler moved to stand at Elrond's side. "Come Hir-nin, let me."

Elrond held out his hand and silently watched as Galion tenderly bathed it, efficiently washing away all traces of Thranduil's blood before he wrapped Elrond's arm right up to his elbow in the fluffy towel and gently rubbed it dry. The butler showed no surprise that he was cleaning his master's blood from the hand of another and Elrond could only surmise Thranduil had confided in Galion that he'd planned to offer up this blood debt.

"There you are Hir-nin, clean once more."

Elrond nodded dumbly, silently; still more than a little in awe of what had just transpired between him and the blonde King.

Thranduil however had no such problems as all sense of the nerves and fidgety behaviour he'd earlier displayed disappeared like an early morning mist.

"Hannon-le Galion." The King gave a dismissive wave of his hand and his loyal butler once again retreated – basin, dirtied towel and bloodied tray in tow.

Still feeling somewhat speechless Elrond sat silently and watched as Thranduil at last helped himself to a generous portion of the delicacies laid out before them. He dug into them with gusto and drained his glass of champagne before helping himself to a generous top up of the bubbly wine.

The blonde demolished a small apple confection with intricate pastry work and wiped at his lips with a heavy linen napkin before he spoke again.

"There will be a feast in a week's time held in your honour."

That broke Elrond from his musing with a start. "A feast?"

"Yes, the blood debt is a show of gratitude between just you and me." Thranduil paused to give Elrond a meaningful look (though he need not have bothered - the blood debt was a thing Elrond had already firmly decided to keep to himself). "The feast however will be a public celebration – a show of thanks on behalf of the realm."

"In a week's time?"

"Mhmm," Thranduil mumbled an affirmative around a mouthful of cake before he swallowed. "It will be a grand affair and the kitchens would not appreciate it if I did not give them sufficient time to prepare."

Elrond nodded - he understood well the wrath of kitchen staff asked to cater unexpectedly to a large crowd - yet he could not ignore the nag of his responsibilities to his own realm that pulled at him. "Very well, I shall attend and enjoy your feast but I can stay no longer after that, I have been away for long enough, and I did leave at rather short notice."

"Mithrandir?" Thranduil tilted his head inquisitively.

"Mithrandir." Elrond firmly agreed and when Thranduil laughed, the Peredhel didn't hesitate to join in his mirth.

~o~

Tap, tap, tap. Thranduil gave the door before him a cursory knock to announce his presence before he opened it and let himself in. He stepped into a room that was a curious mix between a healing hall and a workshop - complete with a blazing bright furnace at the end. The ellon within the room spun round at the sound of Thranduil's entrance, clearly ready to accost whoever had dared intrude into his space without his express permission, but all umbrage left him as he realised who it was that had come calling.

"Ah Aran-nin," the ellon Angrenor, a warrior turned jewel-smith, bowed hastily. "Suilad Aran-nin. To what do I owe the pleasure? Please, do come in and make yourself comfortable in my study. I shall wash my hands and be with you in but a moment."

"Suilad Angrenor and hannon-le." Thranduil gave a small acknowledging dip of his head and made his way through to the adjoining room which was a warm, comfortable study.

The walls were lined with cases of books and there was a huge desk at one end with all manner of parchment, ink, small bits and pieces of metal and the odd twinkling jewel strewn upon it. There was also an overstuffed, worn red leather armchair placed just in front of the desk and it was this chair Thranduil settled himself into with the ease of familiarity.

He'd been here a great many times before; Angrenor was one of the finest jewel-smiths in the Wood and the blonde had commissioned him with a great many pieces over the centuries and he had never yet had cause for complaint.

Angrenor strode into the room then, his apron and utility belt still wrapped firmly round him, and begun to shuffle around in a cupboard behind his desk.

"Would you care for a drink Aran-nin? I got my hands on some excellent Second Age port recently - I think you might like it."

The dark-haired ellon arched an enquiring eyebrow and Thranduil nodded his acceptance. Angrenor always had a bottle of unique but good quality alcohol to hand and he was never shy in sharing - another reason why the Elven King enjoyed his visits to the jewel-smith.

Angrenor poured them both a generous glass of the plum coloured liquid which Thranduil accepted with thanks before the ex-warrior settled himself behind his desk. With a careless sweep of one hand he cleared a space before him, unheeding of the shower of parchment and tiny pieces of metal he sent scattering to the floor, and instead pulled out a couple new sheets of parchment, grabbed one of his leaded pencils and turned an expectant face towards Thranduil.

"How can I be of service Aran-nin?"

Thranduil swallowed the mouthful of port he'd been savouring and shifted slightly to face Angrenor head on. "I have three things that I would have you make for me; the first is a gift and the other two for my own personal use."

Angrenor nodded his head eagerly; Thranduil's commissions were always a challenge and gave him plenty of freedom to let his creativity run wild - he enjoyed them immensely and couldn't wait to hear what his King had in mind.

"I am holding a feast for our esteemed Noldor guest in a week's time and I intend to present him with reins and a headstall for his horse."

"Bejewelled presumably?"

"Yes of course. You know how dearly the Gelydh love to bedeck their poor horses in all those unnecessary straps and leather bits and naturally the entire get-up isn't considered complete without some jewels scattered here and there."

Angrenor nodded with a smirk upon his lips even as he began to hastily sketch. "Of course Aran-nin, it shall be done - did you have any particular design in mind?"

"I shall leave the overall designing to you Angrenor, for it is your field of expertise not mine, however I do want it to be unique - to stand out. I do not want it mistaken for any Noldor work but to be recognised as finery from the Woodland realm."

"I understand Aran-nin." Angrenor tapped the lead tip of his pencil against his lips, lost in thought and ideas for a moment before he hastily scribbled a few things down alongside his sketch.

Satisfied, the dark-haired elf looked back up at the King. "What are the other two items that you would have me make Aran-nin? You said they were for your personal use?"

"Yes, they will be - the first is a monocle."

"A monocle?" Angrenor parroted in confusion.

Thranduil hummed an affirmative around a mouthful of port.

"May I ask why a monocle Aran-nin?"

Thranduil raised a brow sharply in silent reprimand and Angrenor was quick to wave away any offence his King may have taken at the seemingly impertinent question.

"I do not mean to question your reasons for wanting one Aran-nin, forgive me, I phrased my question badly. I just meant are you sure you want one? From what I have seen they seem to be rather uncomfortable, unwieldy things - tricky to balance on the nose. If it suits you Aran-nin I could instead make you a magnifying glass or perhaps a pair of spectacles."

The former warrior did some hasty sketching on a new piece of parchment then flipped it round to show Thranduil. "See just here Aran-nin; I could make one of the lenses in your spectacles stronger than the other like so - for I presume from your request for a monocle that you need help with just the one eye."

Thranduil studied the design for the spectacles before him; it was really quite clever and would draw far less attention to his half blindness than a monocle would.

The Elven King smiled and nodded. "That is a rather ingenious idea Angrenor. I shall go with your suggestion of the spectacles - I will need you to place heavier magnification on the right lens please."

"Easily done Aran-nin." Angrenor scribbled a little bit more before also placing the sketch of the spectacles alongside the one of Elrond's gift and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment.

"And what is the final item on your list today?"

"I want you to prepare a gem to be imbued with a very powerful magic spell."

Angrenor nodded; he got plenty of such requests and though it took skill to prepare a jewel to hold a magical spell without cracking, it was something he could do fairly easily at this point in his jewel-smith career.

"Have you the gem that you wish to imbue with you now?"

"Aye." Thranduil gave an affirmative dip of his blonde head and to Angrenor's great shock the King removed his wedding ring and held it out upon his palm.

Angrenor's eyes were wide in surprise and no small amount of trepidation and he simply stared at the exquisitely wrought ring on the King's upturned palm. "You… you would have me imbue the stone in your wedding ring Aran-nin?"

"Yes and you shall never breathe a word of it to anyone, am I understood?"

"Of course Aran-nin, my lips shall forever remain sealed."

"See that they do and also see to it that the stone is fully and properly prepared; I do not think I need to tell you how much this ring means to me."

Thranduil paused to let his thumb run over the smooth, bright moonstone that was the centrepiece in his oversized, much treasured wedding ring. He could clearly remember the very moment Celeblassel, resplendent in her wedding finery, had slipped it onto his finger. A small smile touched his lips at the memory before he once again turned his attention to Angrenor.

"The spell I plan to imbue this ring with is strong - maiar level magic. So please, I entreat you to do your best work - there would be nothing on Arda that could make up for the loss of or damage to my wedding ring."

And with a deep gusty breath Thranduil firmly placed his ring into Angrenor's skilled hands. He trusted Angrenor, twas the very reason he came to get these two deeply personal items made and prepared by him. Angrenor was an honourable ellon and Thranduil knew nothing they spoke of or that he requested would ever leave the former warriors workshop.

Still, he could not help but feel a little wrench as he fully let go of his heavy wedding ring. It was one of his dearest possessions, his most treasured gift from Celeblassel and he would be devastated beyond words if any harm were to come to it. But he trusted Angrenor, knew that the ellon would prepare the gem perfectly to receive Hall Thurin; for in the end Thranduil had indeed decided to take Mithrandir's advice about having the powerful spell imbued into a ring.

The wizard had been right in how much of a drain it was upon his magic stores to keep up the fantastical glamour that was Hall Thurin. It would be far easier and ease the strain upon him if he was simply to use a ring to uphold the glamour (though he would be damned to Morgoth's void before he admitted such to anyone, least of all Mithrandir). And what better ring to use than his wedding band? He wore it almost all the time, taking it off only if there was some call for him to march to battle for fear that he might lose it.

And so, instead of adding a new ring to his usual set and incurring the nosy gossip of those closest to him (and his hawk-eyed councillors) Thranduil simply decided to utilise the pearlescent stone he already wore every day.

He took a calming draught of his port as he watched Angrenor study and measure his ring and scribble down his findings for a solid five minutes before the jewel-smith carefully wrapped it in a length of deep blue velvet and placed it in a small but rather sturdy iron safe behind his chair.

"I shall guard your ring with my life Aran-nin and do my very best work on it. I shall begin this very night - all the sooner to get it back into your possession."

"If you could Angrenor I would be most grateful."

The former warrior nodded, "Your spectacles I shall have ready in two weeks and as for Hir Elrond's gift I can have that ready for you by Oraearon - if it suits you Aran-nin?"

It was Thranduil's turn to nod. "Yes, the feast will be held on Orgilion in the evening, so that timescale works very well. Hannon-le Angrenor."

"Not at all Aran-nin." He glanced speculatively at Thranduil's half-filled glass. "Do you have time for a top up?"

"Yes - why not. I have some time left before my next training session and I may as well spend it doing something pleasurable." Thranduil gave a pleased grin as Angrenor once again reached for the vintage port bottle.

The blonde King was feeling extraordinarily pleased with himself now that he knew the two items that would help him cope with his newfound disability would soon be made and in his possession. It had taken him a while, and he certainly had no intention of admitting it to anyone, but he had come to realise that in order to better adapt to his condition and get back to his throne all the quicker it would be wise to utilise any and all help available.

Thranduil let himself sink further into the comfortable chair and took a sip from his refilled glass. With his new aides on their way to being prepared coupled with his blessed dearth of pain Thranduil was ready to set about the remainder of his rehabilitation with fervour once more.

But first… first he'd let Angrenor tell him all about the two ellyn who'd shown up last week both wanting him to make a necklace - for the very same elleth!

~o~

Thranduil groaned as he was tossed onto his back once more by Aglardaer. He stayed where he was for a moment, on the soft hay that cushioned the training ring they currently occupied, and looked up at the canopy above them.

Hand to hand combat with only one eye was proving rather difficult - so too was the case with horse riding, knife work and swordplay. All activities that Calelon had cleared him to begin doing three days prior. Thus far it was hard, slow going and the Elven King was covered in bruises and had a great many small nicks about his person as he struggled to find a way to work around his half blindness with these more strenuous activities.

Calelon had advised him to put to use the knowledge he'd gained in re-learning how to do the smaller tasks, such as writing, pouring drinks and jogging, then adapt and apply said knowledge to the larger aspects of his rehabilitation that he'd now started. Yet that was easier said than done - it was one thing to master his loss of depth perception when pouring a cup of tea and completely another when it came to trying to compensate for that loss in a knife fight.

Thranduil fared no better when it came to sword fighting as he'd come to realise losing one eye resulted in having a fair bit of trouble when it came to tracking moving objects. Riding a horse was also something that was proving somewhat of a disaster so far as he could not for the life of him get Diomedes to stay in a straight line; the moody horse continually ended up listing toward the right - Thranduil's good side - due to his now monocular vision.

All problems the royal healer promised would disappear as Thranduil learned to adapt to half his field of vision and compensate as needed.

The blonde resisted the urge to groan once more as he finally sat up; he didn't feel as though these problems would dissipate any time soon and he was already weary of feeling like an elven punching bag. Yet a quick glance up at Anor's position in the sky told him he still had a whole hour of sparring and hand to hand training left to struggle through.

The mere thought of the new bruises he'd gain by the end of the session was almost enough to send Thranduil slumping back down into the hay.

~o~

Arahaelon patted away his sweat with one of the clean towels that hung from a branch of the great beech tree that shaded the training ring he and Thranduil had been practising their sword work in.

The Regent glanced over to see Thranduil unstrapping his sword belt. The blonde looked rather dejected, far more than Arahaelon thought the session - which had been difficult for Thranduil - warranted.

"Despite how you feel now or how you felt during it - that was a good session Thranduil. You are ever improving - I nicked you with my sword only twice - a vast improvement on when we first started these sessions I'm sure you'll agree. So, no need to look quite so upset about it. The difficulties you are having now are to be expected and I have no doubt that as you continue to practise you will overcome them all."

"I know that." Thranduil's answer was short and terse.

Arahaelon snorted, "If you know this then why are you still so upset about it?"

"I am not upset."

The words sounded as though they had been forced through Thranduil's clenched teeth and the silver haired Regent turned to face Thranduil head on. He was most definitely upset and Arahaelon would need to apply only a tad more pressure until his blonde King would crack and finally give vent to what had been gnawing away at him all session. For it was not only his half blindness that had caused Thranduil to struggle as much as he had in their training session. The blonde had been preoccupied from the very moment he'd arrived to spar.

Arahaelon tilted his head a little to the side. "You are upset Thranduil - and there is no shame in it - though I must say I do not understand it."

Arahaelon watched as the muscles in Thranduil's jaw jumped and flexed as the other gnashed his teeth once more in frustration.

"I am not upset about the bloody training session Arahaelon."

"So you admit that you are upset? About something else perhaps, if not the session?"

The glare Thranduil gave him was frosty enough to freeze Orodruin. "I will say it once more for you seem to have rather suddenly become hard of hearing; I am not upset - merely a tad tired - that is all. No need for you to make such a bloody great fuss."

Arahaelon let his gaze run quick but assessing over Thranduil. He did not look tired in the least. There was not the dullness to his eyes that usually accompanied his exhaustion nor was there the tell-tale, though barely there, slump to his normally upright and rigid posture that signalled tiredness in his King. Nay, Thranduil was not in the least bit tired - of that Arahaelon was convinced. Something bothered him however and the Regent was determined to wrest it from the taciturn blonde.

Arahaelon continued to prod. "I am only making a fuss as you say Thranduil as I wish to know what ails you, for it is clear to me something does. The reason for your poor showing in our session was down to more than your impaired vision. So, will you speak of it? If not to me then consider Aglardaer or even Calelon, but do not hold it so tightly to your chest for it is clearly doing you no good."

"I told you what was bothering me - I am tired, that is all."

"And I am telling you that there is more to it than that. I know you Tharan-min, I know you very well and it is a pointless endeavour for you to continue to pretend to me, of all people, that all is well with you."

The use of the childhood endearment was purposeful and already Arahaelon could see Thranduil unbending just a bit.

"Truly Arahaelon, you needn't worry about me."

"I will forever worry - you are like kin to me, as a son, and as you well know our children will forever remain a source of anxiety."

That did it; at the reminder of Arahaelon's care and love for him the Regent could see, almost as if it were a physical thing, the way the blonde's resolve to hoard his problems capitulated.

Thranduil gave a great, long, put upon sigh before he gently folded himself down to sit on the hay strewn ground and signalled with a tilt of his head for Arahaelon to join him.

Arahaelon did as he was bid and gracefully sat right next to Thranduil so that they touched shoulder to shoulder. "Talk to me Tharan-min, you know I will always lend an ear - no matter what your problem may be."

Thranduil sighed again - smaller and more defeated this time. "I am plagued by night terrors. Ever since I stopped taking the painkillers…perhaps they were suppressing the nightmares or I was too drugged to dream…I do not know, but since I have stopped taking them my sleep has been disturbed. Every night, the same awful and vividly terrifying dreams consume me as I sleep." The King ran a hand through his hair dishevelling the blonde locks. "Flames, smoke, fire, dragons, pain…I am almost sorry I no longer have cause to take the medicines."

Arahaelon nodded as he listened and placed an arm around Thranduil to drag him in closer in a half embrace. "I understand."

At Thranduil's incredulous snort, Arahaelon dropped his arm from around the blonde and sat forward so they could look each other in the eye. "I am being serious Thranduil - I do understand…think you that I escaped Dagorlad unscathed mentally?"

Just the mention of that accursed battle was enough to see the Regent shudder violently and he rubbed his arms to dispel the sudden chill he felt. Even all these centuries later thinking of the destruction Dargolad had brought upon him and his people hurt.

Thranduil, ever perceptive, bumped their shoulders together and pressed up against him. Arahaelon gave him a wan smile before he continued. "I had the most dreadful case of battle fatigue and as a result was also plagued by nightmares. Every time I attempted sleep I would see your Adar's face - asking me why I'd moved out of formation, why I had left him exposed…my wife also made regular appearances in my night terrors - accusing me of betraying her to the hands of the orcs…of not being there, anywhere near, when she most had need of me…it was truly terrible."

"Adar would not have blamed you…did not blame you." Thranduil's face was crumpled into a deep frown. "I know he did not - he told me with his dying breath to stick by you, to heed you - he would not have said that had he blamed you for his death."

"And I know that now, truly I knew it then…but a battle fatigued mind is not a sound one - especially not at night and I suffered dreadfully for it. I kept the night terrors to myself, as firmly hidden as I could and suppressed how they were making me feel - how badly they were affecting me for a good month. I was exhausted and cranky and so, so angry and slowly my performance in battle began to slip. You remember, do you not?"

Arahaelon watched as Thranduil stared into the middle distance and knew the blonde remembered. They did not get along well during those battle filled, blood soaked days at all. Thranduil, a young, insecure, newly crowned King who was trying to follow his Adar's last words by sticking close to him and seeking out his advice; and Arahaelon, who was freshly widowed and utterly bereft at his failure in being a royal bodyguard, who could not stand to so much as glance at Thranduil for all the reminders of Oropher he saw within him. His cold, aloofness had ended up hurting and frustrating Thranduil to no end until he'd finally saw red and had Arahaelon moved to another battalion altogether, cutting their interactions to the barest minimum.

Arahaelon had suffered even more nightmares after that - now all centred around the safety of his young King, but he'd not mention that now, would not mention it ever - it would not help the blonde he cherished so dearly.

"The nightmares ate away at me because I held them so tightly within, I would speak to none about them, would not even acknowledge I had them even when I awoke with my throat raw from screaming. And do you know how that ended for me?"

It was a rhetorical question - Thranduil knew; he'd been there, worry plain on his face when Arahaelon had finally come around again. "I took an orcish scimitar to the chest and very nearly bled out and died - just another elven corpse to litter the waste plains - all because I had let my nightmares exhaust me to the point where my senses were so dulled I was unable to sense a stupid, loud, lumbering orc right behind me."

"Do not be as foolish as I was Tharan-min, don't hold everyone at arm's length and everything that ails you deep inside because of some foolish, mistaken sense of pride or strength. Everyone needs help after suffering such deep traumas as I did…as you have now, and there is no shame in that. This too shall pass, these night terrors that haunt you will fade in time but they will do so all the more quickly if you talk to someone about them. As I said before, it does not have to be me - just please do not bottle it all up. You are finally on the road to full healing again so let nothing hinder you." Arahaelon knocked his shoulder into Thranduil's, "Remember that talking helps, and should you choose to talk to me I am always here to lend a kind, non-judgemental ear."

Thranduil gave a barely there smile and allowed himself to slump into Arahaelon, head on the Regent's shoulder. "Hannon-le Arahaelon…I appreciate your offer…perhaps I could take you up on it after we have cleaned up and had some dinner?"

"Whenever best suits you Tharan-min - I am here."

"Le fael." Thranduil repeated his thanks and they sat in a comfortable, contemplative silence for a few long moments before the blonde spoke up again.

"Perhaps you might also speak to my Elite?"

"Your Elite?" Arahaelon parroted, not understanding the sudden request.

"Yes, they are all plagued with guilt over what has happened to me. I have tried my best to tell and show them that I find no fault with them but though they are trying their best to hide it from me, I can still sense the guilt that hangs heavy like a pall over them all."

"I am not a bloody counsellor Thranduil - how is it that you expect me to help in this particular matter?"

"A counsellor you are not but you are a bodyguard of a dead King."

Arahaelon flinched hard at the unexpected words but Thranduil was there immediately, snaking a comforting arm around his waist to soothe and pull him in even closer.

"I figure you are uniquely placed to help bodyguards who have a sense of guilt over harm that has come to their charges."

They had never discussed Oropher and his fall so bluntly before and whilst the moment remained Arahaelon let slip words he'd wanted to say for centuries. "I am sorry I failed him, Thranduil. I did not intend to but I did and I am so very sorry."

Thranduil pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "And I sincerely hope you already know your apologies are unnecessary, I have never held you at fault. Some things cannot be stopped no matter how hard we try…and it is this I wish for my own bodyguards to come to terms with, so…if you can help them in any way I would be most grateful."

Arahaelon let himself lean further into their weirdly entangled embrace before he nodded. "I shall try Tharan-min. I can't promise it will help any but for you I shall try."

~o~

Arahaelon watched from the narrow upper balcony that ran around the indoor training room where Thranduil and his Elite - Duron, Arodon and Arthon - were practising their knife work.

He had slipped silently into the room and stood as still as though he were a statue; he wanted to observe the trio and see if he might get a glimpse of the lingering guilt Thranduil had spoken of. Perhaps then he'd have some idea of how to broach the subject with them; for it was no easy task Thranduil had set him. Arahaelon was not one for deep, emotive conversations - at least not with anyone who wasn't Thranduil - so this chat the blonde wanted him to have with his bodyguards was not exactly something the silver haired Regent was looking forward to.

Still, he'd said he would try for Thranduil's sake and so here he was. After roughly a quarter of an hour of watching, Arahaelon could see glimpses of the guilt Thranduil was so concerned about in his Elite. They were all pulling their strikes, far more than what would be expected in a sparring ring; they were handling Thranduil far, far too gently - he'd not ever recover to any meaningful degree if they didn't put a bit more strength behind their blows. The trio were also overly solicitous toward Thranduil: running to fetch him his towel, to bring him water and even fresh fruit every time they stopped for a break. They were fawning over him and Arahaelon could see just how much it was beginning to grate on the blonde.

Plan of action decided Arahaelon went down from the observation balcony to the training room proper. He flung his council robes aside on one of the benches and pulled two of his hidden long knives.

"Daro!" He called out putting a stop to their current round of sparring. "What is it that you are trying to achieve here?"

Blank looks greeted him from all three bodyguards before Duron spoke up.

"What do you mean Hir-nin?"

"I am talking about this," Arahaelon gestured irritably at the training room in general, "this alleged training you are trying to aid Thranduil with."

"You do not approve Hir-nin?" It was Arodon's turn to speak.

Arahaelon turned so that he faced the nervy blonde head on. "Nay, I do not approve at all. You are all handling Thranduil with elfling gloves, as though he were made of fine bone china and will shatter if you actually put some effort into your sparring. I know it is but a training bout and of course you are expected to hold back, but not to the point where a blow from a firm pillow would inflict more harm than you three are currently doing."

Arahaelon took up his favoured starting position and motioned for Thranduil to take up his own position, before he proceeded to systematically and quite literally beat Thranduil to the ground as they watched. Arahaelon pressed his knife to Thranduil's neck and his knee to the blonde's groin and held him firmly until Thranduil grudgingly yielded.

Arahaelon sprung up, offered his hand to Thranduil and pulled him up before he turned to pin the trio with a pointed look. "That is how you ought to be training with Thranduil. See - he has not broken anything save a sweat. You can all afford to be a bit more purposeful with him. I know you are all more than aware that should you hurt or displease him in any way he will make it more than clear to you."

The Regent turned and beckoned Thranduil to him once more and took up his own starting position. The high pitched metallic clashes of their knives smashing together again and again rang loud in the air of the room until Arahaelon with some quick footwork backed Thranduil up against a wall and forced him to yield once more.

"I think you are enjoying this a tad too much Arahaelon, I am sure my Elite understood your point the first time," Thranduil murmured somewhat sulkily.

Arahaelon snorted. "You asked me to do this for you - you did not specify what method I might use," the silver haired ellon whispered back before he turned to face the Elite once more.

"You are supposed to be helping Thranduil regain his battle fitness and that will not be achieved by you lot merely tip-tapping your knives against his. Now more than ever you all need to be working together as a sharp, cohesive unit. I know what it is to see harm come to your charge, to the one you took vows to protect and serve."

Arahaelon paused and made eye contact with each of the three before he held out his wrist for them to all see the tattooed crest of the royal bodyguards etched neatly into his skin as it was into their own.

"You are luckier than me - my charge died and I cannot tell you the sense of failure and guilt I felt over it. Your charge is still here, changed and with a new disability to contend with, that is true, and I can see why you would all feel guilt over it. But what's done is done - you do not help Thranduil now with this overly-genteel approach. Sooner or later he will be called into battle again and it is your job, your sworn duty, to ensure your King is as prepared as he can be - disability or no. So, use your guilt to motivate you rather than let it debilitate you - let it spur you all on into becoming the very epitome of what the royal bodyguards stand for - strength and valour in combat. And do not let it be said that Thranduil's Elite were cowed in the face of dragons."

It was a lot gruffer than what Thranduil had probably hoped of him, Arahaelon supposed, but truly he was not really one for dealing with his own emotions never mind those of others. He could only hope something of what he'd said would help.

Arahaelon placed his knives back in their hidden sheaths and moved to retrieve his robes. He took his time in pulling them on and surreptitiously studied Thranduil's Elite as he did so. He couldn't be 100 percent sure just yet, things like this always did take some time, but already the trio seemed to have a bit more of a bounce in their step, a bit more purpose about them.

Thranduil approached just as Arahaelon secured the final clasp on his lavish outer robes.

"Hannon-le mellon, that was unconventional but it will help, of that I'm sure."

Arahaelon smirked, "I would not thank me just yet Thranduil - for I am pretty sure I have just given them a licence to beat you into shape. You may yet live to regret it."

And with that Arahaelon gave Thranduil a sturdy clap to the shoulder and strode with purpose out of the training room and back to the sanctuary that was his office.

~o~

Elrond ran his comb through his hair and gave himself a final once over in the mirror before him. The Peredhel Lord straightened his brooch and made a slight adjustment to his collar; satisfied he turned to gather his outer robe - it was time for him to head down to the feast Thranduil was throwing in his honour. A feast that Elrond did not feel was entirely necessary. It was excessive, in his humblest of opinions, but then again that was the very embodiment of Thranduil and everything to do with him.

The blonde was an extravagant extrovert and Elrond could clearly remember their younger days when Thranduil celebrated every victory, every gain with joviality, dancing, singing and plenty of wine. The Peredhel supposed he ought not to be too surprised that this trait had carried over to an even larger extent now that Thranduil was a King.

A loud knocking on his door shook Elrond from his memories and with swift movements he slung on his outer robe then crossed the room to open the door. He was surprised to see Thranduil himself standing there, for he'd expected it to be a servant who would fetch and escort him down to the feast.

"Suilad Thranduil, please - do come in."

"Mae govannen Elrond, hannon-le."

Thranduil swept into the room. He looked good; regal in dark red robes which had fine details picked out in silver thread with an elaborate crown of white gold and darkest amethyst upon his head. It was hard to believe the blonde King had been through the horrors that he had, that he was so badly disfigured, that he was half blind when Thranduil looked so much like his usual majestically magnificent self.

"You look fantastic Thranduil - to look at you one could not guess you have been through all that you recently have. I must say, your recovery seems to be going marvellously well."

"It progresses satisfactorily Elrond, but speak no more of it. And please, promise me again you shall not ever mention my injuries nor partial loss of sight to any others."

Thranduil looked deeply uncomfortable at the mention of his ailments and Elrond was sorry to have discomforted him.

"I am sorry Thranduil, I did not mean to make you feel ill at ease - I only wished to compliment you on how well you look. I promise you again that nothing that has passed between us whilst I've been here shall ever be revealed by me."

Thranduil gave a small satisfied nod of his crown laden head. "Hannon-le. Now, this is for you."

Elrond blinked at the large package being held out to him. "Another gift Thranduil? Truly, you are just spoiling me now."

Thranduil snorted and shoved the beautifully wrapped gift closer to him. "No dhínen Peredhel and open it - tell me if it is to your tastes."

Elrond opened the gift, careful yet again not to unnecessarily destroy the pretty wrappings and gasped at what was revealed. It was a beautiful headstall along with its accompanying reins, made of soft finely tooled leather. All the clasps and latches were made of gold that complimented the dark mahogany colour of the leather. The browband and noseband of the bridle were decorated with tiny golden acorns interspersed liberally with twinkling white gems and along the cheekpiece ran a pattern of tiny oaken leaves delicately stitched in emerald green.

"This is an exquisite piece Thranduil." Elrond studied it further and smiled at the skillful stitching in gold thread that resembled tiny climbing roses. "Very Woodland in style and colours - it shall look great on Thala."

Thranduil smirked, pleased at the praise of his gift.

"I am glad to see it pleases your Noldorin sense of beauty. Angrenor did rather good work on it to say he has not had cause to work on such a piece before - frivolous and wholly unnecessary as headstalls, reins and all those other bits you burden your horses with are."

Elrond rolled his eyes good naturedly. Long had those of the Wood sneered at the bits and bridles the Noldor preferred to deck their horses in.

"They are hardly frivolous Thranduil - they lend beauty to our horses and give aid and comfort to the rider."

Thranduil gave a slow shake of his head, "Only those poor in horsemanship require all manner of bits and pieces to keep their horses under control. The rest of us manage just fine."

Elrond barked a laugh at the blonde's sustained teasing even as he continued to admire the headstall and reins he held. The craftsmanship that had been put into the piece was masterful and it was clear judging by the gold and white gems, that sparkled so wonderfully in the light, that no expense had been spared.

"I am truly touched by this gift Thranduil. Though headstalls and reins are of no consequence to a mighty horse-taming wood elf such as yourself, I appreciate how much effort and expense was put into this gift for me and I shall treasure it. Le fael."

Thranduil's smirk gentled down into a genuine smile and he gave a satisfied nod in acknowledgement of the heartfelt thanks.

Carefully Elrond gathered up his gift and placed it upon his bedside table before he returned to Thranduil and motioned for them to leave. "We had better get going - it would be in poor taste to be late to a feast held in my honour."

The Peredhel Lord made for the door but paused when he noticed the Elven King had not followed and instead hesitated behind him.

"What is wrong Thranduil? Why do you hesitate…you do know it would be just as bad if you were to be late." Elrond made an attempt at levity that fell flat entirely.

"Will it last?"

Confused by the blonde's question, Elrond turned back to face him fully.

"Will what last? I'm afraid I do not know what it is you refer to Thranduil."

"The spell of pain relief you cast upon me…when you leave…when you take your ring with you, where does that leave me? Will the spell eventually fade without you and the object that cast it to keep it strong?"

Realisation of what the other feared came to him suddenly and Elrond was quick to reassure the blonde.

"You needn't fear Thranduil, the spell I cast is a strong one and it does not need me nor Vilya to remain so. It will last right up until your last breath or to the day you decide to take ship - whichever may come first. This I promise you - you shall not ever feel the burn of dragon fire again."

Elrond watched as tension fled Thranduil and the King relaxed his shoulders down from where they had hunched up ever so slightly.

"Hannon-le Elrond, once again I must thank you for all you have done for me and for my people. I will entreat you to remember the blood debt and remind you to call upon it whensoever you feel the need to."

Thranduil moved around Elrond then and grasped the door knob. "Now come, for you are correct - it would be entirely disgraceful for us both to be late to this feast. And more than that I do not want to miss out on the canapes, for I have heard that the kitchens are putting out one of my favourites tonight and I fully intend to eat more than my fair share."

Elrond laughed long and loud at that even as he followed his blonde host from the room.

~o~

The feast itself gave Elrond even more cause for laughter as infectious joy and light-hearted levity seemed to be the order of the night. The wine flowed freely, the food was non-stop and the drums banged out one delightful beat after another. The wood elves were in magnificent spirits and none seemed happier than Thranduil himself.

He was completely at ease without even the slightest tell that he was working around what could have been a rather debilitating disability. Instead the Elven King smiled, laughed, drank and danced with his subjects and they in turn lavished him with unabashed adoration. Thranduil was a bright point in the feast hall - he shone as Anor - and all gravitated around him drawn in by his magnificent aura.

And Elrond was beyond pleased to see it. This was the Thranduil he knew, the Thranduil he remembered. This was the Elven King - back on top and in fine form and with that knowledge Elrond was able to sit back and relax, and feel peace over his looming departure.

He had accomplished all Mithrandir had summoned him to do and he was certain now that all would be well again and that Thranduil and the Woodland realm would both recover fully from the devastation that dragon fire had wrought.

~o~

"Again, again!" Thranduil spun himself backwards and pulled up into a battle ready stance. "I feel as though I am finally getting to grips with this manoeuvre. Come Arthon - one more."

Thranduil barely allowed his bodyguard time to settle into his own ready position before he rushed at him once more twin swords raised.

This was how he'd spent all his days since Elrond had departed over a week ago. He trained hard all the day long with his Elite - who had taken Arahaelon's words to heart and were helping to push him towards full battle ready fitness. It would not do for him as King to be anything less and so he devoted all his daylight hours to his training whilst Rithel continued her capable rule in his stead.

In the early evenings however he cut his daughter free from the constraints of ruling a kingdom and applied himself with vigour to the unending stacks of paperwork that were part and parcel of Kingship, using the activity to further polish his tengwar back into the beautiful script he was known for. It also gave him the opportunity to try out and get used to his newly delivered spectacles as well as allowing him to get used to others seeing him in the spectacles.

Rithel called him dashing, Legolas wanted to try them on and Aglardaer and Arahaelon simply smiled at him in that smugly proud, utterly insufferable way they both sometimes got when they felt Thranduil was at last "heeding good sense". He returned their looks with hearty eye rolls (pleased beyond measure that he could do such again without pain tearing through his face) and his loved ones easy acceptance left Thranduil quietly confident that he'd be able to face his opinionated, gossipy councillors when the time came - spectacles and all.

~o~

Thranduil hissed as he misjudged the proximity of Duron's knife and it sliced a thin but painfully stinging stripe down his arm. He pulled back and glared down at it in dismay – it was the third one he'd acquired during their knife work session.

"Here Thranduil – let me clean and wrap them for you and we can go again."

The last thing the blonde King wanted to do was go again - at this rate his arm would be torn to shreds by the time Duron called a halt to the session. But Thranduil said nothing and meekly acquiesced to Duron's ministrations; it had taken a while but at long last his bodyguards were again treating him normally, finally starting to overcome the guilt that had so crippled them. Up until a few weeks ago Thranduil getting injured by the hand of one of his bodyguards would not have been so easily dealt with and the Elven King felt glad that Duron was so easily able to push past it and offer him aid for his injuries rather than berate himself and fall into a spiral of guilt. Not to mention his Avari guard was also using his name once more (rather than 'Aran-nin'-ing him to death).

"There." Duron gave Thranduil's newly bandaged arm a satisfied nod before he looked up at the King. "You are still relying too heavily on your eyesight – which I will remind you is impaired – you need to start using the entirety of your surroundings to your advantage."

"I need to use what?" Thranduil questioned somewhat dumbly even as he inspected his arm.

"Use your surroundings – be more aware of them - you are very focussed on watching me but you must remember your depth perception and field of vision are not what they once were. Let's try again but this time be aware of what is around you. Are there any trip hazards? Are you scanning the area properly? What is the best position for you to take in order to have the largest field of vision possible? If there is a patch of light over there, coming down through the trees that would help you see me better, how can you get me manoeuvred to be where you want me? These are the things I'm talking about, and if you keep them in mind you will be better able to fight and react as needed rather than if you give all your focus to just watching your opponent."

Thranduil gave a considering tilt of his head; what Duron said made sense and he decided he would try to apply it. "Very well – let us try again and I will attempt to do as you've suggested."

Duron gave a pleased nod and moved into his favoured start position, knives held high at the ready and at the word from Thranduil the two dove wholeheartedly back into practising their knife-work.

Thranduil had been scanning his surroundings previously but he made sure to do so extra diligently this time round which helped him avoid a tree root even as he ducked under an overhead attack from Duron. He was also more conscious of what angle he held his head at and where he positioned himself so that he was able to see as much of the "battlefield" and Duron as possible.

It wasn't long however before Duron caught him yet again with his knife, although this time the damage was limited to the bandage rather than Thranduil's arm. The Elven King huffed but his bodyguard only laughed.

"Relax Thranduil – we have time to get it right."

"There is too much I now need to be aware and keep track of in addition to actually trying to land a blow."

"Aye, that is true but it will come with time, you just need to continue to practise and before you know it, it will be second nature to you. Now shall we go again?"

Thranduil flexed his arms, nodded and readied himself. Practise would make perfect after all.

~o~

Thranduil was having a bad morning.

It hadn't started out bad; in fact it had started with a wonderful, bracing breakfast of thick cut bacon and scrambled eggs that he'd had time to eat leisurely due to Rithel still seeing to his Kingly duties.

Nay, where it had all gone sour was in the activity that had been chosen for his morning's rehabilitation session – horse riding. What was already bound to be a tricky task for the vision impaired King became infinitely harder due to the nature of his horse. For Diomedes was nothing short of an utter bastard, and that morning in particular he was as contrary as it was possible for a horse to be.

Firstly the dratted beast had bobbed and weaved and made it difficult beyond measure for Thranduil to even mount him in the first place. With that ordeal having been overcome, Diomedes then decided that the slow pace round the training ring did not suit him and began breaking out into random sprints across the yard which saw the unprepared Elven King take numerous tumbles as he unbalanced. After taking his fifth tumble in as many minutes Thranduil had ordered them all to leave the training ring and take to one of the easier (and less populated) paths out in the woods.

"Diomedes seems calmer now," Aglardaer noted with a wry grin.

Thranduil snorted and made no comment. He knew Diomedes well and wasn't willing to praise the wilful beast just yet.

They continued on at a slow plod for a few minutes more before upping the speed a little to a gentle canter. Thranduil steadied himself with hands placed firmly against Diomedes' neck and for the first time in all his thousands of years of life considered that perhaps reins might be useful things to have. He was still finding it harder than he'd hoped to stay seated perfectly straight and upright and found himself continually listing toward his good right side. Thus it was also proving somewhat trying to keep Diomedes in a straight line, and furthermore the black blankness in his left field of vision that was causing him to swivel his head to gain a full scope of the path ahead was rather disconcerting.

"You've gone quiet Aran-nin, is all well?" Arodon's tone was one of ill-concealed concern.

"I…" Thranduil trailed off and clung a little tighter as Diomedes gave a small, nimble leap over a large tree root that crossed the path. Satisfied he would not fall, the Elven King finished his answer. "I am finding this, as with seemingly everything these days, more difficult than expected. It is hard going trying to keep Dio in a straight line and I half feel as though I am listing off to the right and about to fall clean off him at any moment."

Aglardaer chuckled at his friend's exasperation. "I know you are likely tired of hearing it Thranduil but this is yet another thing that will come with time. You're still getting used to being back on your horse after losing half your sight and the lack of balance and general oddness of sensation is to be expected. A few more rides out and you'll figure out how to balance yourself and compensate for the reduction in your field of vision."

"I hope so," grumbled Thranduil, quite fed up with being told things would come with time and practice and to be patient.

It galled him, just how many things were affected by his new disability, and the blonde King silently but soundly cursed the dragons yet again.

"It will Aran-nin, it really will," Arodon encouraged. "The hardest part of your healing journey is now done – all that is left is to put in the practice."

"Speaking of which – shall we up the pace a tad? Will you be ok Thranduil?" Aglardaer pointed. "The path coming up ahead is clear enough for us to go at a steady trot."

Thranduil took a deep bracing breath and tightened his hold on Diomedes a bit more before he gave a jerky nod as he replied, "Aye, I think I shall manage."

And manage he did - both to stay firmly seated upon Diomedes and not list too far off to the right all whilst going at a steady clip. They trotted down the path with Thranduil at the fore; the Elven King gaining a little more confidence with each passing moment. He shifted a bit to sit more squarely in the middle of Diomedes' back and he angled his head just enough to be able to get a glimpse of the left side of the path as well. He felt good - to be moving swiftly through the trees with the wind whipping in his hair.

Perhaps learning to horse ride with his impairment would not take nearly so long as he'd feared.

No sooner had the thought crossed Thranduil's mind did misfortune strike, as a deer - quite clearly spooked by something - shot across the path right in front of Thranduil and Diomedes and off into the trees opposite.

The sudden and surprising appearance of the deer right before them caused the black stallion to rear up suddenly and sharply, so high upon his rear legs that the horse tumbled over backwards.

Thranduil had no hope of staying seated and something crunched painfully in his right hand as he landed hard but he paid no mind to it as he scrambled to the side and out of the way of being crushed by his huge stallion.

"Manen le Thranduil?"

"Aran-nin!

"Thranduil!"

"Are you ok?"

His bodyguards had him surrounded in mere seconds, all with hands out, eager to help him up and pat him down for injury. Thranduil allowed himself to be helped up but shook off and stepped out of range of further fussing.

"I am…okay…though I think I may have broken my wrist." Thranduil gestured with his chin down to his right arm which he had cradled against his chest. "It made a rather disconcerting 'crunch' noise when I landed."

"Here, let me look."

Duron gestured for Thranduil to show him his injured arm and Thranduil did so even as he held back a wince at the sharp pain that raced up his arm from the movement.

Duron palpated the already swollen joint and gave a grunt.

"Tis a fracture, not a break but it will require a splint and a sling and of course you'll have to take a break from the more physical aspects of your recovery for the next week until it heals."

Thranduil nodded even as he gingerly removed his hand from Duron's to cradle it once more against his chest. He ought to have felt disappointment rather than relief at Duron's pronouncement but after the past difficult two weeks of training that had seen him covered in cuts and bruises along with this rather trying morning that had left him with a fractured wrist Thranduil was simply glad for the break he'd be getting. It would give his battered body and self-esteem a chance to recover.

A large cool nose pressed itself into his cheek then and Thranduil broke from his musings to face a remorseful looking Diomedes.

"Sîdh Dio. I know you did not mean to toss me." Thranduil gave the stallion a few hearty claps to his flank.

The black horse gave a small soft whiny before he knelt and dropped his back in clear invitation for Thranduil to mount him.

Thranduil gave him another hearty clap on the shoulder before he shook his head.

"Not on your life Dio - I have been tossed about enough for one day - I shall be walking back to the palace!"

~o~

"That was a really good hunt!"

"It worked really well as a training session."

"And more than that it was a great deal of fun! Wouldn't you say Aran-nin?"

Thranduil glanced over to his youngest bodyguard, Arthon, and rolled his eyes. "Stop Aran-ing me. I have told you all before, multiple times you may use my name when alone."

And they were alone, having just clattered into the royal baths for a well-deserved soak in its large, mineral and athelas infused pool.

Arthon pulled a face, "It feels weird to call you by your name Aran-nin…disrespectful."

Thranduil rolled his eyes heartily again even as he began to strip off his leather armour and his hunting gear beneath; getting his bodyguards to call him by his name was an on-going battle - one he was determined to win someday, but today was not that day - he was far too tired. For they had been on a hunt; a night-time hunt - on the prowl for the large, fat, nocturnal catfish that frequented the small ponds and streams that were offshoots from the Forest River.

The hunt had been Aglardaer's idea. It seemed that even as Thranduil trained and his Elite helped him in that training, they had also been training together on their own, establishing ways they could adapt to and compensate for his half-sight. They essentially needed to be his left eye now and they had spent a considerable amount of time and effort in working through ways and formations that would help them do just that.

The hunt was a test - a way of them all putting together the various separate bits of training they'd been working so hard on over the past few weeks and months. For Thranduil it was a chance to really focus and put into practice utilising all his other senses, depending less on his sight, working with his disability rather than fighting against it. For his Elite it was their chance to work around Thranduil and support him by being the missing half of his field of vision, and most importantly a way to convince themselves they were still very much capable of providing their King with the protection he needed.

That the hunt had happened at night was simply a way to further push them to be their best and put all their newly learned skills into play.

It had gone well though it had not been without its challenges, particularly for Thranduil.

The Wood at night was dark; especially so in areas where the stars and moonlight could not penetrate through the thick canopy which had at first made Thranduil panic a tad as he felt he could hardly see anything at all. A most disconcerting feeling. But he'd breathed through it and focussed himself on his other senses and gave his eye a moment to adjust to the darkness, which it did. He'd also reminded himself that his Elite were there and that they were looking out for him, that they had his left side covered and thus comforted he'd then been able to move forward with a slowly but ever increasing confidence.

Confidence that took a knock when they had come to do the actual hunting. Spear fishing was difficult with only wavering moonlight, one functioning eye and prey that swam silkily beneath an oddly reflecting surface. Thranduil's aim was off - badly so - and after a few frustrating tries to land a catfish he'd given up on being an active hunter and had moved to instead act as a spotter for the rest of his Elite.

He'd find himself a suitable perch in a tree that overlooked their chosen pond or stream, and then focus his hearing on the tiny splashes the fish made as they moved to feed at the water's surface.

His confidence had burgeoned once more as his Elite hurled their spears wherever he'd point out - landing a fish every time.

Thranduil had to give it to Aglardaer - the hunt had worked a treat for helping him put into practice things he'd spent so long learning and re-learning in a practical setting and more than that he'd had fun. It felt so good to be back to normal with his Elite - to see that they all still worked seamlessly together - and best of all to see that the guilt that had plagued his bodyguards for so long and caused their interactions with Thranduil to be awkward and stilted, had disappeared and in its stead their usual easy camaraderie had returned.

Thranduil, now rid of his dirtied clothes, turned to answer the question Arthon had originally posed.

"Yes I did have fun tonight - it was good for us to get back out there as a unit; to prove to ourselves that we can still fight and work together and protect each other just as well as we have always done." The blonde King smirked then. "Stuffing myself with delicious fried catfish was simply a bonus."

"And how fares your ankle?"

Thranduil glared at his best friend for bringing up his puffy, swollen ankle - a nasty twist of the joint had befallen him after he'd misjudged the distance between his last spotter perch and the ground. Judging distances was something that was still rather difficult for the Elven King - another thing that would improve with time as he got used to his changed depth perception.

"It fares well enough - tis nothing a good soak will not cure."

"And some firm bandaging," Duron, the healer amongst his Elite, put in. "I will splint and bandage it for you when we are finished here."

"Hn." Thranduil made a noncommittal noise and limped his way over to the lip of the large heated pool then slowly eased himself down the wide shallow stairs into the water.

His ankle did throb but he knew that a turn in the hot baths and the chance to take his weight off it would do the joint wonders. It was yet another injury to add to the long list of them he'd gained ever since he'd stepped up his physical rehabilitation after Elrond's departure. The blonde didn't feel too down about it though - he couldn't. Far too much good progress had been made for him to sulk over one twisted ankle that would be right as rain in two days' time.

For he had his Elite back; back by his side and back to their usual overbearing, mothering, irritating ways that Thranduil had missed so very much.

Thranduil moved deeper into the water, rested his head upon the pool's edge and let himself sink down into the water until it lapped at his chin. Duron was adding various muscle salts and essential oils to the pool's steaming waters, Arthon and Arodon were having yet another of the brotherly bickering sessions they both insisted never happened and Aglardaer was goading them both even as he gathered shampoos and hairs oils that Thranduil knew his best friend would subject him to momentarily.

The blonde let his eyes drift shut with a tiny smile about his lips.

It had been a long and painful road for them all to get this far but the Elven King was glad beyond measure to have his fearsome foursome back in action and up to their usual antics once more.

~o~

Thranduil tilted his face upwards to catch the last rays of Anor and an almost empty glass of Dorwinion dangled in his hand as he relaxed further into his low, cushioned chair. It had been another long, full day - he was tired and just a little sore but his overall mood was quietly jubilant. Hopeful.

A lot of things were becoming easier for the blonde now. Now that he'd at last stopped fighting against the fact that he had a disability and instead did his best to work within the new constraints he found himself with. And it was not all bad - his ears and nose were now far sharper than they had ever been and his sense of awareness seemed to have extended just that bit further - all seemingly to compensate for his missing half sight.

The Elven King now also found things easier as he no longer bitterly fought and resisted all offers of help.

Thranduil readily accepted aid offered by Rithel, his Elite and Arahaelon; he also fully utilised the aids he'd had Angrenor make for him. The spectacles were a great help when he did paperwork - helping him focus as well as easily read even the most cramped or overly-cursive tengwar, and his wedding ring, now imbued with Hall Thurin, helped ease the strain on his own magic stores. Which in turn meant he did not tire nearly as easily as he had been prior to using his newly magical wedding ring.

He used the ring to uphold Hall Thurin for him on weekdays; and so as to keep his magic stores in shape - for magic was akin to a muscle and needed to be exercised regularly if one wanted to have any true power in it - he upheld the spell himself during the week's end.

It was a balance that Thranduil found worked well for him though the ring was a secret the Elven King still kept from everyone (he'd not be able to bear Mithrandir's smugness about it should the grey wizard ever find out).

Yes, he was so pleased with the things Angrenor had made and the way they made his life just that bit easier he was already considering commissioning something else - another aid to help buoy him against his half blindness.

Thranduil's musings were cut short as first Legolas then Rithel appeared both calling greetings to him.

"Suilad Adar!" Legolas all but smothered Thranduil with his unruly hair as he bent to give his father a kiss to the cheek. "Have you had a good day?"

Thranduil planted a quick peck of his own upon his exuberant son before he nodded. "Aye, I've had a very good day indeed - it has been most productive. How about the two of you? An enjoyable day for you both I hope?"

"Eh," Legolas shrugged. "I had arithmetic and Westron lessons today - not what I would call enjoyable Adar." The younger blonde brightened, "we did have archery lessons today though and that was fun!"

Thranduil laughed at his son's silliness and turned to face his daughter. "And you iell-nin?"

Rithel dipped down to give and receive her own kisses before she replied.

"I had council meetings - lots of them! But I can't complain too much as you've done almost all the day's paperwork for me - hannon-le - that was most kind of you Adar."

"Hardly a kindness when it is in actual fact my job iell-nin. I do hope the council hasn't grown too unruly and bold in my absence."

"Eh." Rithel shrugged in a manner resembling her little brother before she sat on the soft grass next to Thranduil's chair and produced a large picnic basket she'd been hiding behind her skirts with a flourish. "The council will do as they see fit - worry not about them, I have them well in hand - instead let us eat."

Thranduil smiled at his daughter and then the basket appreciatively. "And what exactly have you brought for us to eat?"

"Oh all sorts, the kitchen staff have outdone themselves. There is a roast chicken, a fresh loaf of bread, a small wheel of cheese, a lovely fresh salad…"

The Elven King smiled as his daughter continued to list out the goodies that had been prepared for them. At times he'd despaired of ever having moments like this again and yet here he was now. All was finally becoming right in his world once more and with that realisation Thranduil put any lingering thoughts of sailing firmly from his mind.

TBC.

Aran-nin / Aran - My King / King

Hir-nin / Hir – My Lord / Lord

Aphado-nin – Follow Me

Peredhel – Half Elven (sing.)

Adar – Father

Le fael – Literally: You are generous – Sindarin version of this was you

Suilad – Greetings

Galu – Blessing. (Used here as a toast – like 'Cheers!')

Hannon-le – Thank you

Mellon – Friend

Naw – It is so

Ellon / Ellyn – Male Elf / Male Elves

Gelydh – (Plural) Noldor, lit. One of the wise folk

Maiar – (Plural) A Quenya name for the lesser Ainur i.e Gandalf, Radagast etc.

Hall Thurin – Veiled Secret. The name of Thranduil's facial glamour completely made up by me

Oraearon - Sea-day

Orgilion – Stars-day

Elleth - Female elf

Anor – Sun

Tharan-min – Vigourous One – a childhood nickname for Thranduil

Daro – Halt

Mae Govannen – Well met

No dhínen - Be Silent

Manen le – How are you

Sîdh – Peace

Iell-nin – My Daughter

Horses:

Diomedes – Thranduil's horse – (Greek) Cunning Warrior

Thala – Elrond's horse (Sindarin) Stalwart