Thranduil looked into dark brown eyes. Those eyes. He knew those eyes too. They brought him a torrent of memories, remnants of the past that he had fought hard to shove into the back of his mind.
"I got you!" the brown-eyed elfling shrieked with delight. The two had been chasing each other around the dense forest, the autumn-brown leaves crunching under their bare feet. She was so focused on making sure Thranduil didn't sneak up behind her and scare her that she crashed into a tree. An auburn-haired lady watching nearby laughed behind her beautiful, delicate hands.
The little elfling scowled. "Naneth!" she said. "It's not funny!"
The lady fought to keep a straight face. "No, Irien. It isn't funny. Not funny at all."
Thranduil laughed. "It was pretty funny to me," he said, only half-joking.
Irien turned to Thranduil. She yelled at him, laughing and smiling the entire time, continuing to play their little game. Like her mother, she too could not keep a straight face for long.
Irien's naneth had brought out delicious lemon tarts for the two to eat halfway through the game. The three sat, eating lemon tarts. Thranduil licked his sticky, lemon-tarty fingers.
"Hmmm," he declared. "That was good."
The auburn haired Linneth, Irien's naneth, laughed. "I'm glad you enjoy my baking," she said.
The two little elflings played long into afternoon, till the sun had nearly set, the moon raised.
Before the two parted ways, Thranduil asked, "Tomorrow?"
Irien nodded, her golden hair blowing out in the night breeze. "Tomorrow," she confirmed.
They were older now. Thranduil sat in Linneth's house, with Irien, Thorontur and Linneth. Thranduil looked up to Thorontur, who was older than he. Thorontur was narrating, for the umpteenth time, what the military academy was like.
"Wow," Thranduil breathed when he heard about the grueling drills and exercises. He turned to Linneth. "Do you think I will get into the academy too? Like Thorontur?"
Linneth smiled. "I'm sure you will, Thranduil. Your father will make sure of it."
"Good," he replied, satisfied.
"Me too!" Irien piped in. "I want to go too, like my big brother!" She cast a look at Thorontur.
Thorontur smiled. "I know you will both enjoy it," he said knowingly.
Thranduil turned to Irien. "When we both get into the academy, we'll look out for each other," he said.
"Of course!" Irien chirped, laughing. "I don't think I could get through it alone, anyway."
Linneth watched her two children and the young prince talk about their futures like pompous little birds. If her heart could smile, it would have.
"Do you swear?" Irien asked solemnly. It was the eve of the two elflings' induction to the academy. They stood under a canopy of leaves, some turning golden brown in face of autumn.
"I promise I will be your friend in good times and bad times, in hardships and joys," Thranduil announced gravely. He took the small knife in Irien's hand and pricked his thumb. A single small droplet of ruby seeped out. Irien followed his lead.
"There!" Thranduil declared. "Now we will be friends forever.
Neither knew the significance, or insignificance, rather, of their little pact, made with innocence and simplicity, forged by bonds of childhood friendship. Time would take its due.
Thranduil collapsed back into his chair by the fire, utterly exhausted. "No one cares about the First Age!" he complained. "We shouldn't get assigned so many essays!"
Irien raised an eyebrow as she finished a sentence on her parchment from her seat across Thranduil. "You signed up for this," she reminded him, not for the first, nor last time.
Thranduil sighed and returned back to his paper. A minute later, he looked up. "Who was the one that established Gondolin? Was it Turgon or Thingol? I get their names mixed up."
"I'm pretty sure it's Turgon," Irien replied. "Thingol was Melian's husband, and he ruled Menegroth."
"How come you always know the answers?" Thranduil muttered as he jotted it down.
"Unlike you, I pay attention in class," Irien replied, smiling. She stood up. "I'm done," she declared triumphantly.
Thranduil looked at her disbelievingly. "You can't be!" he exclaimed.
"I am," she said, laughing. "I have to go. See you around." With that, she skipped to the doorway, golden hair flying, down to the halls beyond.
Thranduil turned to his pile of homework and sighed.
Thranduil cast a look at Irien. "I can't," he said.
"But you promised, Thranduil! You said we'd look out for each other!"
He heard the sound of his friends coming up the hall behind him. "Thranduil!" they called. "Come on! Let's go to the lake!"
Thranduil looked at Irien again. Her arms were held loosely by her side, but her fists were clenched. Irien said nothing, but Thranduil could see the disappointment in her eyes.
"Thranduil, are you coming or not?" His friends were getting impatient.
"I'm sorry, Irien. I can't," he managed to get out.
Irien swallowed and nodded.
So without wanting to glance back, Thranduil ran off with his friends.
Irien was waiting by the entrance when Thranduil returned. She sat on the stone steps, a book propped up on her knees. Irien looked up as she heard Thranduil jog back, crunching through the leaves. He made to ignore her, going up the stairs, until her voice stopped him.
"So you're just going to ignore me," she said in monotone.
Thranduil didn't know what to say, so he settled with, "I thought you did not wish to speak."
"Not to you," she replied, staring daggers at him. Those brown eyes bore into Thranduil's blue ones. He shifted, uncomfortable. "I just thought I might give you a chance to say something for yourself."
"Erm….." he just wanted to leave now. "Sorry?" Thranduil offered.
"Alright."
And with that, not wanting to further complicate the issue, Thranduil took off, running up the steps and into the academy.
Irien watched until he disappeared, swallowed up by the unrelenting stone. It was the last time she spoke to him for a long, long time.
Oropher looked at his son with a strict look on his face. "Have you been focusing on your studies?" he asked sternly.
Thranduil fidgeted, shifting his weight on one foot then another. "Yes," he said.
"And you haven't been going to the lake, neglecting your studies?" Oropher raised an eyebrow.
The young prince gaped. "How do you know about the lake?"
Oropher almost smiled, deciding not to answer. "You need to focus on your studies," he said.
"But everyone else who's going are enjoying themselves!" Thranduil complained.
Oropher knelt down to face his son. "You, Thranduil, are not everyone else." He took his son's hands. "You are the Crown Prince. And one day, you will become their king."
Thranduil swallowed. "Yes, father," he said.
But in his heart of hearts, he knew he wouldn't obey.