Hi guys quick update...a Thranduil chapter...because I miss him :)
Hello followers...Thank you for following the support means alot...please enjoy this chapter.
Thank you Celticank, Win Lockwood and the unsigned fan review...I love you guys you make entire day XD My internet is being annoying so I will respond here in case emails do not get sent.
fan:Thank you so much for your kind review and I loved that you liked the Glorfindel reference...I love him too, like I would totally be a fangirling elf chick in middle earth :P Elrond/Ellenya chapter coming up next I promise. I just feel like I needed to return to Thranduil and bring some more of his story to life.
Win Lockwood: No need to apologize at all, though I am happy to hear from you as always, I just updated really quick this week. Yea Cendir is an idiot but he is young and inexperienced, Ellenya will win him over eventually or you know beat him into submission :P I really enjoyed writing the Arwen and Ellenya part, seemed careless of me to write a love story between Elladan and Ellenya AND not take into consideration how this would upset Arwen. I am happy that I decided to pair up Elladan and Ellenya, I enjoy writing their relationship because it is more an evolution of their long friendship rather than a love at first sight thing. It is as you said nice :) As always thank you so much for your support and I hope you like the Thranduil chapter :D
Celticank: Again thank you so much, so glad you like the Arwen and Ellenya interaction, though I do feel really bad for Arwen. I was thinking about this when I paired up Elladan and Ellenya, and I just wanted an opportunity to explore that hurt with Arwen. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter :)
Some flashbacks...Let me know what you guy's think, I want to know if you like Thranduil's thoughts are not? I did abit of research and used my imagination as too how he might feel...so feedback soooo welcome :)
16. A Warrior's Heart
The night was silent, unusually cold with an icy breeze that stole the warmth from anything with life; the trees, the ferns, the winter blossoms and even the grass curled away from the world, closing away from the cold in an attempt to withstand the night. The inhabitants of the Woodland Realm fell under this quietening spell, moving slowly with heavy hearts. In the darkness of Thranduil's Halls, were little light shone except the odd cool glow of a lamp, the elves continued to wait on the encroaching evil a thrill of fear in their spirits.
Deep within the intricate pattern of corridors was situated the private and well protected chambers of the royal family, colder and quieter than ever before. Arystor the stern and serious royal advisor paced the cool stone floors of the main living area, the only light bringing any kind of warmth and comfort to the surroundings was the dying embers of the grand fireplace. He was not here on official business nor was there anything of immediate concern, he was being incredibly intrusive and the elf was aware that the King would not tolerate his presence if it was not required, but Arystor was concerned. It did not take someone of any great intelligence to recognize the small changes that had begun to take shape in the Kingdom. The unusual coolness in the air, the prolonged winter and the continued withering of the natural world, a comparison could only be drawn to the guardian of this realm and his own waning light. Thranduil was losing hope, there was nothing he had left to protect and Arystor worried that not even the pleas of his people could kindle any fire in his brittle heart.
So Arystor, in his concern, wished to try and help the King not as a subject but as a friend. He had known Thranduil all his life, since he had first come to serve Oropher as a young, wide eyed and green servant. Arystor remembered fondly such days, ancient days, were evil was not so prominent and Thranduil himself was not so burdened. He felt his minds eye stretch back the span of ages to a time when he was an inexperienced and gawky youth that no one would take a chance on, save one;
…
"Put the bow down Arystor before you hurt yourself," the mentor for the young troop of hopeful future woodland guards, commanded and shot the youthful Arystor an exasperated look.
"But I can try again, I have practiced I will get better," Arystor pleaded, it was his last chance to try and impress the captains and commanders of the notorious guard, so he could earn a place in the ranks and leave his position as a kitchen servant behind him.
Arystor had grand aspirations; he wanted to be a great warrior, famed and celebrated throughout the land. He wanted to be recognized and respected; maybe even the great King Oropher himself would one day speak his name with praise. However much to the young ellon's extreme disappointment he was not very talented at the art of war; he was lightly built and unfortunately not very strong, really he had none of the traits of a fighter except maybe the heart of one.
"Listen child," the mentor began as compassionately as he could; "Maybe you should try again in a year or so, this is a serious event with skilled warriors, I do not think you are ready."
Arystor frowned; "No, I will try just like everyone else!"
"So be it, but do not expect anyone to go easy on you," the mentor replied shaking his head with an amused expression, the youth did not have a hope.
The process of choosing young elves for the guard was quite simple but that did not mean it was not challenging. The hopefuls would go head to head with experienced warriors who would put them through their paces, covering a range of forms of combat. The training would be supervised and observed by the Woodland guards' elite and those who showed potential would be selected and trained, then presented to the King and given their place among the guard, an honorable role for any young elleth or ellon.
So on this particular selection day, a suddenly nauseous Arystor and several other nervous looking elves were led into the specifically designed training barracks, set up to look as intimidating as possible. The youngsters were lined up and prompted to show the same respect and composure as would be expected of them if they were to make it to the guard. Though this was hard to do as they shared the room with the real warriors, who enjoyed the panicked and fearful looks in the youth before them, today it was there task to weed out the weak from the strong and they took this very seriously.
The guards captain stood forward to begin the introductions and pair the hopeful's off with their assigned experienced guard. Arystor was not paying much attention to the droning words of the Captain; instead his eyes scanned the handful of warriors who were taller, stronger and incredibly intimidating. Slowly the young elf was beginning to regret his decision, but the thought of going back to the kitchens was unbearable and so he squared his shoulders and rose his chin defiantly, he would not be bullied out of this.
Arystor was too carried away with challenging his opponents in his head, that he did not quite catch the sudden change in the atmosphere until he registered that even the other warriors had stood up straighter and were saluting. Quickly Arystor did the same and eyed the small crowd trying to figure out who they were showing such respect too, it did not take long for him to clock the tall, broad and strong silhouette of a noble elf. The platinum haired and silver eyed ellon spoke in hushed tones to the Captain, sharing some kind of humorous inside joke before he cast his eye over the youngsters. Arystor had only seen this elf a handful of times before, the image of his Father but younger and unfortunately for all the ellyn present, the crowned Prince was too handsome for his own good. The few ellith in the line-up blushed, though they tried hard to conceal their glee when his gaze flickered over them. Arystor scoffed at their ridiculous behavior, they were silvan peasants, nothing to this incredibly blessed sindar Prince, and if they had of worked in the kitchens like he did they would have known what an arrogant, egotistical and reclusive prat Thranduil really was.
"You there, are you displeased with my presence?" Thranduil's musical voice broke Arystor from his internal assessment and he blinked only to realize the question was pointed at him.
"Uhhh?" Arystor began, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach; the prince must have seen his expression and now he was in trouble, he may as well walk away now and try and retain some dignity. But it was too late Thranduil was across the room in several strides and toe to toe with him, his face expressionless.
"It was a rhetorical question, I know what your thoughts were," Thranduil's voice was almost mocking as his lip twitched into a smirk and Arystor recoiled from the Prince and attempted to mutter an apology. It was abruptly halted with an impatient wave of Thranduil's hand and the Prince cocked his head to the side a flash of recognition lighting his cool eyes; "I know your face?"
Arystor felt his mouth open but realized there was a distinct lack of words to follow, if the Prince knew who he was then he would be the laughing stock. The poor little servant boy, they would rip him to shreds he did not stand a chance.
"If you're struggling that was actually a question you can answer," Thranduil mocked, but there was an element of impatience to his tone that had Arystor quickly trying to find words.
"I work in the kitchens, as a servant, your highness," Arystor admitted, shame colouring his expression as he bowed his head and heard the titters in the crowd, and he slouched forward from judgmental glances.
"Silence! Ignorant pups!" Thranduil's icy voice ripped through several octaves and the crowd became immediately silent and composed. The comment made Arystor peek up from his slumped forward position, confusion lighting his eyes, why would the Prince defend him?
Thranduil turned his attention back the dark haired silvan elf who had the audacity to still look him in the eye with questions. He arched an elegant eyebrow and spoke for the benefit of everyone present; "A servant's position is nothing to be sneered at, the most humble in this world are the most blessed, that is a lesson even I could do well to remember. The ambition and determination of this youngster should be applauded; indeed it is something I look for in someone worthy enough to serve in the King's elite."
The Prince shared one last assessing glance with Arystor before turning his attention to the experienced warriors and said; "Let us get these youngsters hearts beating faster, they all seem too docile, I want them to understand the meaning of until pain of death." Thranduil strode off to take his position with the other supervising elves and the Captain quickly paired off the hopefuls before proclaiming the process officially started.
The process was long and arduous but Arystor gave his all, sadly his all was not nearly enough compared to the other competitors. Every muscle, joint and even his skin felt like it was on fire by the end of the grueling day, but he did not care he had seen a flash of respect in the Prince's eyes and that was enough to keep him going, he would not have Thranduil regret his words. When at last all forms of combat had been covered and the selections were being made, the exhausted youth collapsed against a pillar to catch his breath.
"I would go home now Arystor," sneered one of the other hopefuls, "You were bottom of the list in nearly all events they are not going to pick you."
"Yes do not discard your servant's attire just yet," laughed one of the experienced guards, "I can assure you now you were not selected."
Arystor scowled at the two amused ellyn and then scanned the room, yes unfortunately it did appear that the commanders had made their selections and the few that had not made it were having the disappointing new relayed to them. Just at that realization the Captain made his way towards Arystor with a sympathetic expression and the young ellon felt his heart sink again;
"It was a valiant effort Arystor and I have observed a vast improvement in your abilities, but I am afraid I cannot offer you the position to train with us at present," He spoke sadly but with an authoritative tone, "It was an extremely talented team this time, only a few were selected, you should not give up hope young one keeping trying."
"Wait!"
The captain and a devastated looking Arystor turned to the sound of the Prince as he jogged across the hall and came to a halt beside them;
"My Lord?" The Captain queried but bowed his head respectively nonetheless, whilst Arystor remained motionless expecting some form of mocking from the Prince.
"You bow in my presence Arystor as a show of respect," Thranduil muttered with an irritated tone, "Honestly your lack of social etiquette is alarming, it is something you shall need to work on in training."
"in what?" Arystor blurted out the shock in his face making the Prince roar with laughter.
"Training! I assume that was the purpose of putting yourself through this process today? Boy, I am concerned for you, do you even know how you got out of bed this morning?" Thranduil continued to mock, delighting in the ellon's lack of words.
"My Lord, are you sure?" The Captain queried, "I feel a few more years of practice may see Arystor ready for the demands of a role within the guard."
"Yes I am sure," Thranduil responded dryly, "This one wants the chance more than you can tell Captain, it is that kind of loyalty and sacrifice that my Adar craves and rewards, he will make a fine warrior he has the ambition. I also like his attitude, not many have the audacity to show what they really think of me in my presence, and he may yet keep me humble?"
This statement earned a few chuckles and nods of agreement, Arystor continued to remain speechless a host of emotions racing through him at once;
"So what say you Arystor will you take the place?" Thranduil asked.
Arystor stood for a moment working out his best response before lunging at the Prince and embracing him with such unexpected force that Thranduil stepped back on one leg to keep himself balanced. The startled Prince, renowned for not showing emotion or engaging in any emotional exchanges glanced at the captain with a panicked expression;
"Thank you your highness, thank you so much, you have no idea what this means, I swear I shall never let you regret this decision!" Arystor cried with so much happiness, he was sure he was close to tears his dreams were being realized at last.
Thranduil was frozen under the onslaught of thankfulness and through gritted teeth hissed; "Get him off me NOW!"
"I am sorry," Arystor yelped and jumped back, before dropping into a low bow; "I am just so thankful I will never forget your kindness my Lord."
Thranduil softening slightly at the obviously ecstatic elf, smirked; "Good, at least we are making some progress that my friend is a proper display of thankfulness."
"Yes your highness, thank you and I do apologize," Arystor replied and bowed again.
"Oh alright do not overdo it, I am not a tyrant," Thranduil sighed and rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to leave, but paused for a moment, turning back to Arytsor; "Also you ever touch me like that again and I will personally ensure you will not have use of your arms for a week, understood?"
"Understood!" Arystor replied with a serious tone as he watched the Prince saunter off.
"Do not make me regret this," Thranduil called back once more without even turning his head and without another sideways glance or look left the training grounds, with the same arrogance and ego that they all had become accustomed to over the years. However Arystor seen the Prince is a new light, and admittedly it may have been a somewhat biased light, but he had seen a compassionate and generous side to Thranduil and he would not forget it. To Arystor the Prince was suddenly an ally and friend, for all his pomp and haughtiness he did understand his people and he was sensitive towards them, he was indeed a noble elf.
….
Arystor smiled at the memories, how the long years had changed both of them and how wise was even the young Thranduil, to have guessed that Arystor would find his purpose keeping him humble. Arystor may never have been a great warrior but his skill was in understanding others and fortunately he was one of the few that could occasionally understand their eccentric King. He would not wish for any other purpose now, over the ages he and Thranduil had built up a friendship based on trust and mutual respect, and when Thranduil took the crown he made no secret of who he wanted to assist him. That to Arystor was the greatest honor and would remain his duty until the day he died or passed on, and he dearly hoped that would be before his beloved King and friend.
The doors of the living space creaked open and Arystor stopped his pacing instantaneously, eyes fixed to the entrance, dearly hoping Thranduil had the patience for him this night. The familiar figure of the Elven King quietly entered into the room and his gaze landed with irritation on his advisor;
"I am getting locks placed on these doors," Thranduil grumbled and readjusted his deep green robe, tightening it more securely about his waist, and clasping it tighter at his chest which was bare and exposed. It was blatantly obvious by the dampness of his hair that he had just returned from a bath; "I cannot even bathe without interruptions, I may as well put a sign on the door, 'council meetings reconvened to King's private washroom,' though I am sure that would make for an interesting discussion and I could kill two birds with one stone."
"I apologize Sire, will I come back later," Arystor squeaked in embarrassment and diverted his gaze."
"No, you are here now," Thranduil sighed and sprawled out on the settle closest to the fire, picking up a half consumed bottle of wine and drinking straight from it; "Though I am not putting on more clothes just to make you feel comfortable Arystor, it will teach you a lesson, next time knock or you really will get more than you bargained for."
Arystor nodded once fully believing the threat, Thranduil often did things to shock though he had mellowed in his older age; "Would you like a glass?" Arystor commented as he watched Thranduil hastily consume the strong drink.
"No," The King responded and winced at the strong taste of the alcohol, "No point in wasting a glass, I am going to drink the bottle anyway."
"How much wine have you consumed in the past fortnight?" Arystor asked evenly hoping to keep the judgement out of his tone.
"Oh please do not give me that self-righteous look Arystor," Thranduil growled and took another swig of the bottle, "Considering the past few weeks I could have done a lot worse than drink a little more than usual."
"Yes I know, but this," Arystor gestured to the bottle, "Is generally a prelude to something worse."
"I am losing interest and patience with this conversation, hurry up and get to the reason for your impromptu visit," Thranduil grumbled and closed his eyes, then rubbed his forehead.
"You are the reason for my visit Sire, I am concerned for you," Arystor replied, deciding it was best to get it out of the way quickly.
Thranduil opened his silvery blue eyes slowly and for a brief second there was a flash of gratitude there, but it was quickly replaced with cold indifference; "I am fine Arystor, I do not need your sympathy."
"You are not fine Thranduil, you are heartbroken it is evident in the very atmosphere of this realm!" Arystor responded firmly, after all it was his job to state the obvious.
"And what else would I be Arystor?" Thranduil snapped jumping up from his settle and coming to stand directly opposite the advisor anger radiating off him; "My son has been sentenced to death by my own permission and my daughter is intent on following his example, or worse she will fade with a broken heart, she is as foolish as her Adar."
"Thranduil what you speak of has not come to pass, have hope, Legolas is extremely skilled he can survive. Ellenya is strong of spirit like her Adar she will endure, she may love the young lord but she will remain as long as there is something to fight for," Arystor calmly made his heartfelt plea, there was no point in raising his voice to be heard, Thranduil was louder.
"Arystor, with all due respect," The King replied in an oddly shaky voice as he lent on the mantle of the fireplace to support himself, "You do not have the slightest idea what you are talking about."
"Then enlighten me," The advisor pushed the subject and took a seat on one of the armchairs, "convince me that I should let you despair without reason."
Thranduil glared at the brazen advisor but decided it was best to explain to his old friend his reasoning, at least then he could prove his right to despair; "Word has reached my ears that the fellowship has failed, my son continues on a journey with the man Elrond named Estel, Legolas believes he will mend the line of Kings and bring hope to the world. Such whimsical and fanciful belief could only come from Lairiel, I warned her not to fill his head with poetic notions of valor and justice."
"You do not believe the ranger to be who he claims to be?" Arystor asked slightly confused by the direction of the story.
"Oh no Aragorn is the rightful King and he would make a fine leader, raised by elves he at least has more wisdom and goodness than others of his race," Thranduil replied indifferently, he was not at all interested in the man.
"Then why does it concern you that Legolas defends him," Arystor questioned growing more curious.
"Because of where it will lead him!" Thranduil glowered at the advisor making him shrink back in his seat, "He will go now with the ranger to try and stand againist the evil of Mordor, one last attempt at the black gate."
Arystor watched with concern mingled with understanding for the King who was leaning heavily on the mantle and breathing too harshly for his relaxed position. Arystor was never part of the battles they now called the last alliance, though he had demanded he be part of the army. Again it was Thranduil that begged him to stay within their homeland to guard it. He remembered the day well, he had followed the army to the farthest borders and made one last pitch to Thranduil to allow him to fight in the war. The then Prince was incredibly distracted and close to tears as he pleaded with Arystor to remain behind. When Arystor pushed the matter further, Thranduil eventually admitted that Lairiel had revealed she was carrying his child, and he wanted someone he could trust to keep her and his unborn infant safe at a time when he could not. Arystor deeply moved by the revelation promised to protect his wife and baby until his dying breath and returned immediately to their home.
When Thranduil returned from the war he was so changed it was hard to reconcile him with the image of the elf Arystor knew before. The fearless and reckless warrior was replaced with a cautious and defensive King, the arrival of his infant son had sent Thranduil into some sort of overprotective frenzy. He now concerned himself with remaining hidden from the enemy and focused on honing his magical abilities to cast concealing enchantments over his Kingdom. His sanity was questioned on numerous occasions, some thought he was just so burdened with the grief of his Adar's death that he was unable to think clearly. To everyone else the enemy was defeated and there was no more to fear. To Thranduil it was a waiting game, he would not be so easily taken off guard again and he would under no circumstances involve himself, his family or his people in the concerns of the world, so disturbed by what he had seen in war that he would not see it repeated.
It was only Lairiel that brought him out of his fearful spiral of despair and forced him to engage with the world and enjoy his son and later when she bore him his daughter, the sparks of the old Thranduil were returning as he delighted in raising his children in security and relative peace. Yet evil cruelly stepped in again and robbed him of his beloved wife and nearly cost him his children. The breach of the Kingdom and the subsequent kidnapping of Ellenya which had led to Lairiel's sacrifice had successfully returned Thranduil to his paranoid and fearful state, and he only withdrew more from the world, craving concealment and isolation.
Arystor was beginning to understand the sorrow and fear radiating from the King now; how truly terrifying it must be for a parent to know the evil about to descend on his children and be completely powerless to protect them? Thranduil was correct, Arystor could not possibly comprehend the level of heart break he was suffering, but that did not mean he should lose hope;
"Sire, I cannot begin to even appreciate the anxiety you must have over this, but I must implore you to remain hopeful. You must endure for all of us and especially your children, the enemy will seek to corrupt your mind he will know you are vulnerable and that you fear this," Arystor tried to rouse the King from his melancholy state.
"I know Arystor," Thranduil answered through gritted teeth but continued to stare pensively into the dying embers; "And I will fight back, I will endure it is what I do, I remain when all else is gone. But do you not yet see?"
"See what?" Arystor asked softly.
"Everything I created here was to keep my children safe and concealed; I never wanted either of them to face what I faced," Thranduil cried, turning to face his friend with tears glistening in his eyes; "Hidden away from the corruption of the world, so they could be true to their kind, innocent and pure beings. That was the point of Adar creating our Kingdom, though it has greatly changed over time, it was so we could return to our simple ways, good ways that do not get us mixed up in darkness."
"And we still can Sire," Arystor interjected, "We can fight to defend and protect our ways and traditions. The innocent and simple ways of our people will live on and Legolas and Ellenya will survive to be returned to it, to live out their days in peace and in harmony with nature."
"No Arystor, no my naive friend, you are of silvan descent you cannot possibly understand," Thranduil cried bitterly, "It is too late for Legolas and Ellenya, now they have seen and tasted the world outside these borders and that of their kin. Legolas will be exposed to evil and hatred that he did not think possible, his mind begins to understand he is of Sindar blood he is wiser and more enlightened than he thought, war will haunt him and he will find no rest or joy in the trees. Ellenya was already marked by evil so young; she already finds no peace or happiness in the simple ways. Now she is in love with another, who will die in war and I will watch her succumb to grief and fade, a shell of what she could have been."
"You do not know this for certain," Arystor tried to comfort his King but it was pointless, he understood now. He understood the change in Thranduil from carefree prince to haunted King and that it was more than just bad experiences, it was the maturing of the spirit, an enlightenment of the realities of the world and the deep sorrow that comes with being unable to change it.
Thranduil managed a smile for his obviously shaken advisor and with a softer tone attempted to rectify the damage he had caused; "Yes there is still hope Arystor and yes maybe you are right that my son will survive, and my daughter will return to me with some miracle to aid us. I pray for it every minute of each day, and I will never give up on my children. However you must realize that this pain is my burden, but it is also my fuel."
"How so?" The advisor asked with a confused expression.
"For the enemy has not realized the hatred I harbor for all that has been taken from me, my children and my people. Oh he may yet destroy me but I can assure you old friend, it will not be without a long and bloody fight and I will wound him so deeply that he will regret sending his forces into my Kingdom against my people. I burn this forest to the ground and all its inhabitants with it before the enemy lays claim to any of it," The ice in the King's tone was almost tangible.
Arystor had never seen such venom in Thranduil and as much as it frightened him, it also filled him with hope. Their King had not given up, he simply simmered in the silence, quietly feeding and directing his anger at what was important, the enemy. The adviser was certain that by the time war would come to them, Thranduil would be ready and waiting for it and he would not forsake his people, their King was ready to die for them. A glimpse of the old warrior spirit kindled in Thranduil's indifferent eyes and Arystor was filled with courage once more.
Thoughts, views and ideas welcome as always
