Chapter 09
The Woodland Princes
Oh, this is taking forever…
Amroth prided himself for being patient; everyone in Lórinand thought so too. As a Prince, he was always accustomed to formalities and celebrations. But during the rare occasions that he was in Greenwood, the King Oropher was always enthusiastic about it. He wondered if the King actually liked visitors. Amdír and Oropher had been friends for as long as both kings could remember, thus, making their sons quite the friends as well. Ever since his arrival last night, Oropher proposed a feast for him. When Raithon and Thranduil reported about the incident, Oropher nodded but did not see if anyone was hurt.
He sighed and shifted from his seat by the window. Propping his chin beneath his palm, he looked out the window; the late autumn morning gave the Greenwood a brown and orange hue. It was a really good sight to behold, especially from his spot above the palace, and he smiled. The room offered to him befitted his position as prince, but he was restless and wanted someone else's company. Just after breakfast, he tried coaxing Thranduil about introducing him to the "dark lady" he saved last night. Much to Amroth's disappointment, Thranduil had shrugged him off but still promised to introduce him when "she felt better".
"Might as well go wandering around," Amroth told himself and got up. He slipped his silver jerkin and took his bow. "Thranduil shouldn't mind," he added and then left his quiet room.
Santien grumbled audibly. She was a healer, and her task was to stay in the infirmary. But no; Thranduil had to call her in the middle of the night and asked her if she could attend to Erynlith instead of the seriously injured Caladhir and Erestor. She declined his offer, no doubt, but due to Thranduil's constant pleads and some blackmails, Santien yielded and went to the room where Erynlith was temporarily confined. It was a small and cozy room, with curtains of green and lamps of gold.
"Good morning, tra-lay," Erynlith sang as the healer entered, her dark green skirts swirling at her swift movements. The auburn hair was braided in one thick plait that was over Santien's shoulder, and on her right ear was a bluebell from Raithon. She was followed by another healer, a dark-haired Silvan who politely nodded to Erynlith.
"You are so bad at not hurting yourself, aren't you?" Santien said coldly and began sorting out her things. She was asked by Thranduil to treat the scratches on Erynlith's cheek from last night's incident, despite being only a minor wound.
Erynlith sighed in defeat. "Had to be done, tra-lo. You shouldn't have come. The scratches are healing anyway…" She ran a finger through her right cheek and tapped it. "See?"
"I'm only doing what I am asked," Santien said. She tossed a cloth drenched in herbal oil to Erynlith. "Besides, have you heard of the new visitor?"
The younger elf's face brightened. "Finally! Someone who makes sense! Tell me about him!" She clapped her hands cheerfully.
Santien's eyebrow rose. "I don't know much about him, really. All I know that he's always a guest of King Oropher. He lives in Lórinand."
"Oh," Erynlith muttered, pressing the warm cloth on her cheek. After a while, she handed the cloth back to Santien. "I'll go out now, okay? Call for me when Erestor wakes, and don't tell him about what happened, tra-la-la…"
"No, I can't let you—" But Erynlith was already out of her room. Santien sighed exasperatedly while her fellow healer only giggled softly.
Amroth's fingers tapped the table impatiently. His chin was propped under his palm again; he leaned back against the chair and on his other free hand, a cup of wine was thrust there by the King. He eyed the swirling liquor in his cup; it reflected his face in a crimson hue. He was never fond of wines, unlike the certain Elvenking and his subjects. Surely, wine was a delicate drink, usually soothing and relaxing. And he had tasted many wines in his lifetime; Lórinand had their own vineyard for winemaking. But it was still morning and the red liquor was already in his hand, waiting to be consumed.
He was supposed to be wandering the forest by now, had not the King's butler spotted him leaving the palace. The butler called him and offered him to join the King for his leisure time in the porch. And being the polite elf that he was, Amroth smiled and took the offer.
His grey eyes darted from his drink to the King. Oropher's silver hair was adorned with a crown of berries and leaves; on his fingers were gem-studded rings. A luxurious brooch was clasped about his neck. Beside the King and across the table was Thranduil, clad in silver robe and dark trousers. A silver circlet was upon his pale golden hair. It was almost hard to believe that this father and son were Sindar, for Sindarin elves usually had dark hair. Perhaps their family was an exception, along with Amroth's family, since he and his father Amdír shared Thranduil's golden hair.
"So, Prince Amroth," Oropher's voice snapped him back. Instantly, the Prince of Lórinand composed himself, not wanting to disgrace his name in front of other royalties. "I am grateful for your coming here. It has been a while since you graced Greenwood with your presence. But it is quiet disheartening that you visited in such terrible circumstances. I assume you are not, by any means, hurt? King Amdír will not appreciate if you are."
Amroth smiled politely and shook his head. "I am perfectly fine, King Oropher. My concern is the lady last night. Is she well?" He noticed how Thranduil's eyes narrowed at the mention of the lady.
"She will be fine," Thranduil sharply answered, sipping from his cup. "I have assigned an attendant to look after her. By lunchtime, if she feels like it, she may join us for lunch. How long do you intend to stay in Greenwood?"
"As long as I can get to meet her," said Amroth, looking for another reaction from Thranduil. As expected, the other prince looked grim.
"We will send someone to fetch her," King Oropher said. "I am quite worried about her as well."
Everything went on smoothly. After lunch, the three continued to the King's throne room. Amroth was beginning to wonder why he was even there in the first place. He could be at Lórinand by now, relaxing and spending time with his people. He sensed Thranduil's impatience; the Woodland Prince scanned the throne room, his eyes waiting for someone. And Amroth could tell who he was looking for.
Faint footsteps interrupted the silence between them. Amroth and Thranduil turned around, their eyes catching glimpse of the lady in her thin satin dress, her umber hair braided carelessly on the side. She was running toward the throne room. As quickly as Erynlith arrived, she blinked at the King and did not notice the presence of the two other elf princes. Someone had told her the Elvenking was to be found here. She felt rather silly for meeting the King yesterday but was not able to recognize him at all. How shameful.
"My lord, I—" Her voice trailed off, meeting Amroth's eyes, and then Thranduil's. She smiled instantly, the brightest smile Thranduil could have seen from her, and she began to ascend the dais of the throne.
Thranduil stepped forward expectantly, his arms ready to receive her, rather embrace her, but he was stopped in his tracks when Amroth ran past him and embraced Erynlith instead. His eyes widened in surprise, confusion written all over his fair face as he watched his friend spun Erynlith around, both laughing. When she was set back on the ground, Amroth embraced her again. Why was Amroth embracing her? Why was Erynlith so happy to see him? Do they know each other? And why was Amroth's arm around Erynlith's waist? Thranduil glared and looked back at his father; Oropher only replied a useless shrug of his shoulders.
"King Oropher," Amroth called their attentions back, holding Erynlith firmly by the waist. "You should have told me sooner that your lady is Erynlith of Rivendell. It would make things better had I known sooner." He looked at Thranduil. "And I suppose Prince Thranduil should have told me as well."
Erynlith blinked and tugged Amroth's sleeve. "Prince?"
His little game was totally over. Thranduil suppressed an incoming sigh of exasperation. But his eyes still glinted with mischief as Erynlith's face was full with questions; her eyes searching an answer from Amroth. Amroth nodded, unsure of what to say, and was confused himself. Then, Erynlith turned to Thranduil, and he gave her his infamous smirk. He walked over to her and bowed politely, stretching a hand in greeting.
"Yes, my lady," he said, his voice smooth and deep. "I am afraid here ends our little game. I am the Prince of Greenwood the Great, Thranduil, son of Oropher; and not Lascalen, the elf guard, but whatever name you prefer is accepted, my lady." He mentally added a 'tra-la-la' in his mind. He forcefully took her hand into his and kissed the back of it. The look on his face was devious.
Erynlith blanched. Prince of Greenwood? Thranduil? So this arrogant and demanding elf was the King's son? No wonder they looked and talked the same. She could feel herself weakening by that very fact alone, suddenly overwhelmed that she was in the presence of three Elven royalties: one king and two princes. And who was she? A traveler with two injured companions, with still an injured and bandaged right wrist, hair not-so-carefully combed for this glorious moment, and there she stood gaping at the grinning Thranduil. Her life was going smoothly.
As Thranduil straightened himself, he continued: "Now, then. Shall all the games be ended here? Why don't you tell me yours, little one?"
Her eyebrow twitched. No one called her that except Erestor. She glared, not caring if the King could see, and pulled Amroth down by the shoulders and whispered something in his ear. At length, the golden-haired Prince of Lórinand chuckled and nodded.
"There is nothing else I could tell you, Prince," Erynlith said, purposely leaving out her usual 'tra-la'. "You knew my secrets before I could even know them myself."
"Ah, that is a shame then," said Thranduil and looked at his father. "Shall we proceed to the hospitalities once more?"
Hearing that, Amroth winced and whispered down to her. "Let's go," he said, keeping an eye out on the father and son. "There is much that you could tell me, Eryn."
Erynlith laughed a little, and Thranduil's ears perked at hearing it. He looked back at them again; Amroth's arm was still around Erynlith's waist, almost possessively. But she did not seem to mind though; rather, she was enjoying it. "My Lord Oropher," Thranduil heard Amroth say; "May I borrow Lady Erynlith for the time being? We have much to talk to."
The silver-haired Elvenking easily nodded his head; his blue eyes glinted as he watched Thranduil's reaction. "Go on ahead, Prince Amroth," Oropher said cordially. "You can take your time as long as you want."
And so, Amroth and Erynltih excused themselves with a little bow. Amroth nodded at Thranduil and pulled Erynlith by the hand, as if excited of leaving the throne room. Thranduil eyed them, glaring, as they disappeared behind the large wooden doors. Again, he gave his father an inquiring look. The King stepped down from his chair and gave his son a mischievous smirk. Thranduil furrowed his eyebrows; he had never felt so clueless in his life.
"You sly little…" Erynlith said, embracing Amroth once more. They laughed together and Amroth set her back onto her feet. "What are you doing here? And do you know that we're here?" There were so many questions she would like to ask him.
Amroth laughed. "My intuition was tingling last night. I thought it was you. To think that you've come as far as Greenwood… tell me, is Elrond up to something again?"
She shook her head. "Yeah, something like that…"
"But what did you mean by we?" He took her hand and led them out of the palace, now walking under the glades of the trees. He glanced down at her, noticing her reluctant response at the question. She looked pale and uncomfortable all of a sudden, and Amroth did not like that.
"Well, let's just say something occurred a few weeks ago, tra-lo, and we had to stay in Greenwood for a while, tra-la," she sang. When Amroth did not look convinced, she sighed and continued: "Erestor and I were supposed to deliver a message in Gondor, for the King. But in the High Pass we were waylaid and my companions are hurt really badly, tra-la-lay…"
Amroth stopped walking, ignoring the singsong, and turned to look at her. "Waylaid in the mountains? So that is why wargs are lingering in the forest? You were followed by wargs? And then what happened? Seriously, Erynlith, you can't just—"
"Alright, I get it!" She flailed her arms and laughed. "I am just so bad at these kinds of things, okay? Just don't tell Erestor what happened last night, please?"
"Why not?" But Amroth already knew why. Whenever he remembered why Erynlith chose to stay with Erestor rather than coming with King Amdír to Lórinand, jealousy welled-up within him. It was not the romantic kind of jealousy, more like a familial jealousy, he always told himself. He had expected for Erynlith to choose family members, but in this case, she turned to Erestor more as if they were related by blood. And it disappointed him always that she preferred being with him than being with anyone else.
She smiled weakly. "He's in a lot of physical pain right now. I don't want to add myself in his worry-list. You know how he is… always overacting on things that shouldn't be, tra-la-lay."
Amroth nodded and wrapped and arm around her shoulders, walking off again. "I won't tell him," he assured her. "But you should have told me sooner that you are here. How long will you stay here? I suggest you visit us in Lórinand. The King might be ticked off by now." They laughed. "He would want to have you there…"
"I am not sure," Erynlith said in a low voice, not wanting to disappoint him anymore. "I mean, of course, I would love to visit Lórinand but I am worried about Erestor's leg injury. It has been a week and he still cannot walk. He says he cannot feel his legs at all, tra-lo. I don't want to leave him here and I know he will not heal very soon, tra-la-la."
He nodded in understanding. "Was it a really bad injury? If you'll allow it, you and Erestor can travel back with me. We have the best healers in Lórinand that can attend to him day-in and day-out. You don't have to worry about wargs and all that. We have marchwardens guarding our borders. And everyone would welcome you."
"Yeah," Erynlith snorted. "Everyone, except your little goody two-shoes… what's her name again?"
"Nimrodel," Amroth answered sternly. "Her name is Nimrodel."
"Ah," said the minstrel, not amused in one bit. "Well, whatever her name is, she's still too conservative, and haughty, and…"
"Eryn!" The elf prince snapped angrily. "Remember who you are talking to! Nimrodel is not haughty! For starters, she is kind and loving, and beautiful, very helpful and… and…"
"Haughty?"
"No!" Amroth was now glaring at her. It was rare for him to lose his regal composure, but it was always easy to do so. Mentioning his beloved Nimrodel was either a good thing or a bad thing; good if Nimrodel was complimented, and bad if otherwise. And at this moment, it was the latter. He continued glaring at Erynlith, trying to pierce his steely eyes on her insensitive self. Yet Erynlith only shrugged his glare off.
"Fine, tra-lil-lay." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "We both know she dislikes me for one reason or another, but let's pretend she doesn't, for your sake."
Finally, Amroth looked relieved. "Just… don't speak ill of her, okay?"
She nodded, but then, added: "But we also can't deny that she is haughty, okay?"
Amroth groaned in defeat.
Next Chapter: King Amdir arrives with his sass. #LorienDoubleA
Author's Notes: Yeah, we have little of Thranduil/Erynlith moment in this chap, but they did have the spotlight for like... few paragraphs? Yeah. I wanted another character relationship build-up and stuff. I'll be working on more of their scenes in the next few chapters. Cheers!
*Lingua Pura - Oh, thank you very much! I'll do my best with Erynlith's characterization!
*Rousdower - What, do you still feel hot? Lemme help. *throws ice cubes* Did it work, did it work? We have lots of ice cubes at home. LOL. I'd like to try your yogurt. Mmm, sounds yummy! Always thanks for the review!~
*DeLacus - Since you reviewed in the Long Expected Adventure and here, LOL, I'll answer your question. Yes, the Erynlith I mentioned in the other story is the very Erynlith we have here. I am trying to connect all my stories, you see? One story about Legolas, this one with Thranduil & Glorfindel, and hopefully, the Haldir/OC fic will join the universe! Thank you so much for always reviewing!
P.S. Will I be cursed if I said that I have another idea for a new Elrohir/OC fic? My imagination whirled again, and the plot and characters are set. All I need is all the time in the world to get those stories done very, very soon. Ugh. Sometimes I hate how my brain goes: "Hey, I have a new thing for you." *insert evil laugh here*
P.P.S. Please review and tell me what you think! They are always treasured!~