Chapter 60
I Atherdad
The river looked so beautiful now; the shafts of sunlight were reflected on the water and went to his face, the air was warm and heavy with the scent of flowers. A brown trout swam swiftly on the river; wild silver flowers bloomed between the overgrown roots of the golden trees.
Thranduil sighed contentment, leaning against the tree trunk and looking down at his reflection on the water. On the other side of the tree was Erynlith, also leaning against the trunk and humming to herself. They had been sitting like that for quite some time, just enjoying the silence. Silence, after all, was comforting to Thranduil, even back in Greenwood. He disliked the noise coming from his counsellors, the shouts of the kitchen attendants whenever wine was spilled, or the irritating shuffling of Celairis's parchments in the counsel room. Here, in Lórinand, it was more peaceful—no counsellors and documents to trouble yourself with.
"Are you still back there?" Thranduil said, fighting the urge not to glance over his shoulder and look at her.
Erynlith moved and the grass shuffled; she tucked her feet under her white skirt. "Still here, tra-la."
"A flower for your thoughts?" He plucked one of the small silver flowers and reached out behind him.
"Oh, but of course." She smiled and took the flower from him. "Thoughts, thoughts, tra-la... What am I thinking?" She twirled the flower between her fingers. "I am thinking... about those well nigh two thousand years lost..."
He knew it would go there. "A hundred years should be no problem to us Elves. Two thousand years—still not a problem. We have all the time in the world."
It was not convincing to her. She sighed and looked at the flower again. "Raithon came to Rivendell once. Amroth went there several times. How come you never visited even just for a day?"
"How come you never visited Greenwood?" Thranduil looked behind him and saw that she was hugging her knees. He gulped and leaned back again. "I was a busy person in those years. I have to build up my kingdom, make sure everyone is safe and protected. The fortress—" He thought of the underground palace he and his people built— "It took almost a hundred years to finish building the fortress. Then we have to create the outpost for the Elven-guard, cellars and water gates..."
"I see." Erynlith nodded. "I did not go to Greenwood because I was busy myself. Elrond's children kept me company most of the time. If not, Gildor and I travelled to Lindon and paid a visit to Lord Círdan, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel."
"But not a visit to me?"
She ignored him. "When Glorfindel arrived, my life was more bustling than ever."
He did not appreciate the fondness in her voice when she mentioned the warrior. "And now we're here."
"Yes, we are here, though I wish I was not."
"You do not want me here?" he asked, his voice sounding a little dejected.
"No! That's not what I—"
She was about to turn around and face him when Thranduil called out playfully, "First one to turn around loses."
"As I was saying..." Erynlith pouted and went back to hugging her knees. "I did not mean it that way. I just want to go home and get my life back. I want to be a minstrel in Lord Elrond's home, to be Erestor's sister again, and maybe fool around with Elladan and Elrohir some more." She sighed and thumped her head on the tree trunk. "We both know I am not cut out for this. Amroth must have been out of his mind when he decided to make me the next ruler."
"He actually makes sense, actually," he pointed out.
"You said actually twice."
"Because he makes sense a lot."
She reached behind and offered the silver flower back to him. "Enlighten me?"
Thranduil smirked and took the flower from her. "Okay, Amroth is the King of Lórinand, which we already know by now. Someone who should inherit his kingdom must be a part of his family, which we already know by now, is you."
"But what if that someone doesn't know how to run a kingdom? What if she doesn't know and rules and the ways of being a ruler? If an incompetent person takes the kingdom, the kingdom would fall shortly, tra-lo."
"Not at all," he countered. "Anyone can learn how to rule a kingdom. I could lend you a hand if you want." He kissed the petals of the flower and handed it back to her. "What do you say?"
Through her peripheral vision, Erynlith saw the flower was being handed back to her again. She accepted it and mused. "You will teach me how to manage Lórinand?"
"I see no problem in that." He shrugged. "After all, it is only kind to offer help when your neighbouring forest needs assistance."
"It will take a long time," she whispered, her lips brushing against the petals. "Greenwood will need you back as soon as possible. A King should not be gone for too long. Your counsellors will not like your absence, tra-la."
His thoughts went back to Celairis, and he had been so engaged in talking with Erynlith that he had forgotten about his dark-haired beauty back home. "I am sure they understand," he said. "My Chief Counsellor could handle the kingdom while I am gone."
"But—"
"I am staying here," he told her stubbornly, whirling around to look at her. He saw her smug look and for a while he was confused.
"First one who turns around loses, tra-la," Erynlith sang cheerfully and jumped to her feet.
He muttered curses under his breath, as he fixed his robe and dusted the grass off his breeches. He followed her down the river that coursed behind the palace, and wondered where she was taking him. "Where are we going?"
"Hm, who knows?" She shrugged and smiled at her flower. "How is everybody back in Greenwood, by the way?"
"Oh, everyone's still the same. Santien remains head of the infirmary, and she has more healers to help her with it. We have more guards as well, and Raithon is still Captain of the Guards. Counsellors, still hounding me with their reports; kitchen attendants, very talented at spilling good wine—"
Erynlith laughed, which made him smile. Then, she remembered something important. It hurt just to think about it, but she had no choice to ask him. The sooner she found out, the sooner she would stop hoping and perhaps foolishly think of something else.
"Tell me about the Queen of Greenwood."
His smile changed into a frown. "What queen?"
She stopped meandering and gave him an equally confused look. A few moments passed in silence, with them still staring at each other. Her heart suddenly felt heavy. "Your queen, I mean. Wife? Consort? Do those words ring a bell?"
"I have no queen," Thranduil confirmed.
Her eyes widened and it felt as though her heart was leaping for joy. Her mind did not know what else to feel, but her heart did it for her. It swelled with happiness, and she had to clutch her chest to make it stop beating so fast.
"I thought... all this time..."
"That I am married to someone else?" He approached her and was glad she did not back away like the last time he did that. He looked down at her, a mischievous smile curling on his lips. "Did you honestly think I have pledged myself already?"
Ashamed, she nodded.
"Unbelievable." Thranduil sighed. "Is that one of the reasons you did not go to Greenwood, because you think I am—"
"Of course not!" She punched his shoulder, but not strong enough to hurt. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "I just thought it was natural for kings to marry, so that they could have a queen and be happy."
"I don't need to be married to be happy."
"I know, I know!" She groaned and covered her blushing face with her hands, the silver flower dangling between her fingers.
"What about you?" His voice suddenly turned serious. "How come you are not pledged to someone yet? Wait, let me guess. Ah, Erestor disapproves all of your suitors, doesn't he?"
She laughed and looked up to him. "If I had suitors..."
"You don't have suitors? You lie," he accused her.
"No, really. I have no time exchanging teases with all the other elves. If someone ever expresses mild interest, you can count on Erestor to scare them away the next morning." She covered her mouth and laughed again. "One time, one of the scouts gave me eltiria for my begetting day and I had to spend the whole day locked in Erestor's room while he worked."
He smiled, but tried pushing his luck further. "What about Lord Glorfindel?"
"Hm, what about him?" She touched the flower petals and took a whiff of it, paying half of her attention to the blond Sindarin elf.
"He is not your suitor?"
"Who?"
"Lord Glorfindel."
"What about Glorfindel?"
"Is he your suitor? Is Glorfindel your suitor?" His temper rose now, and he gritted his teeth to keep himself from bursting. Be gentle, he remembered Raithon's words of wisdom that early morning. Speak pleasantly—damn it! How could I be pleasant if she's not paying attention?
She blinked at him innocently. "Is that even a real question?"
Thranduil snatched the flower from her hands and waved it high above his head. He smirked down at her. It reminded him of the golden days when he was still a Prince of Greenwood and she was an eccentric minstrel from Rivendell, both playing the same childish game. It was hard to believe that it happened two thousand years ago.
"Is Glorfindel your suitor: yes or no?"
"Never." Erynlith glared and placed her hands on her hips. "Give it back now."
"A thousand years and he is not your suitor?" He scoffed. "You're lying."
"Why should I lie about Glorfindel? He takes no interest in me whatsoever. Besides, we are friends. It would be strange if he takes a sudden liking to me. And he has many admirers back home, more than Erestor and Lindir combined ever had!"
Still he refused to believe it. "Perhaps he just doesn't tell you, but always shows it."
She could not understand where this conversation was heading. "Would you stop it and give me the flower back?"
"Has he ever held your hand? Embraced you or even kiss you on the forehead?" Thranduil himself did not know where it was leading, but he felt rather playful and mischievous with her. He missed teasing someone who had the humour to be teased; Santien had no sense of humour whatsoever, and Celairis would only smile and return to her work. Even if he did not want to learn whether Glorfindel was interested in her or not, he just felt playful.
"So what if he does? It doesn't mean anything." She huffed.
"You are the most clueless elf I have ever known, did you know that?"
Erynlith stopped glaring at him and murmured, "But... it doesn't really mean anything, does it?"
His mischievous smirk was gone. He dropped his hand to his side, and studied her face; she seemed earnestly clueless, looking like a child, and did not know what to do about it. He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Maybe to you it means nothing, but to him..." He did not want to admit out loud that maybe Glorfindel liked her more than a friend.
"Come on; let's go back to the banquet halls." She gestured him to follow her.
"Finally, because I am starving." He took her hand and placed the silver niphredil in her hand. "Here you go."
"Ah, goodie, tra-la."
Thranduil walked a few steps behind her, and he smiled when he saw Erynlith kissed the petals of the flower.
Sensing someone else's presence, Haldir looked down from his position on the bough and saw the Captain of Rivendell wandering alone. Ever since Glorfindel arrived last night, Haldir did not attempt to be friendly with the warrior—not that he wanted anyway. He had no time to waste, but now that the Elda was striding across the forest in silence, Haldir leaned on his bow as his gaze followed Glorfindel's trail, admiring the older elf's confident strides and powerful built. Perhaps one day, when Haldir was older and wiser, he could be as good as Glorfindel.
"Is there something you would like to tell me?"
Haldir flinched but it was already too late; the warrior was looking up at him with an inquiring expression. Shrugging, the warden jumped off the bough and landed in front of the taller warrior, feeling his stern eyes upon him. Proud as he was, Haldir lifted his chin and met those eyes. "I was wondering if Erfaron feels well enough to command the wardens today," he said.
The Elda seemed surprised. "You do not have orders?"
"None." Haldir shrugged. "She has been mourning for days and now she seems occupied. Where is she?"
"Somewhere..." Glorfindel's voice faltered reluctantly. He did not want to remember that Erynlith was out there with the King of Greenwood, speaking of things and sharing jests that might make Erynlith laugh. Out of all Elves, it should have been Glorfindel making her feel safe and secure, not the King.
"Would she be able to take command now?" Haldir asked again, sounding more anxious. "We have no Chief Marchwarden, no orders and no one to follow. We need her orders now."
"Let me see into it," Glorfindel assured him. "Erfaron discusses the realm with the King of Greenwood. It would be wise to let them speak. For now, take charge of the palace and the surrounding flets."
"I would rather take direct orders from her."
"She is occupied as we speak."
Haldir drew himself taller. "It is urgent."
Glorfindel sighed. He felt tired, even though he had done nothing all day but walk and think, perhaps even overthink. Everything felt heavy in him—his robes, his head, and one that he would not dare to admit: his heart. He wanted to seek her out and return with her to the fortress, but he could not find her. He did not want to come upon her and the King on the rivershore or underneath the trees. He was tired of thinking about it, and here was the strict, humorless marchwarden, raising his voice at him.
"I cannot argue right now. If you want, you can watch over the borders while I remain in the palace. Better yet: I would take the watch tonight and then you remain in the city. You've been working hard lately, and I know Erfaron appreciates it."
Unexpectedly, at least to Glorfindel, the stern marchwarden's face brightened with a smile. "In that case, I shall stay here tonight."
With no further thoughts, the warrior brushed past the beaming warden and headed off, his mind returning to his earlier musings. He gritted his teeth as he thought of Erynlith laughing with the King.
"Are you all right, Eryn? Would you rather get some rest?"
Erynlith raised her palm as she tried to catch her breath. "I'm good."
"No, you're not." Thranduil walked back to her and crouched to peer at her flushed face. He sounded concerned. "Shall we take a break from strolling? You look pale. The wardens would wring my neck if they find out I am treating you badly."
She smiled at that, following him towards the rivershore again. "They would not do that," she told him. "Haldir and the others are good boys."
"You make it sound like they are children." He sat cross-legged on the floor as Erynlith leaned against the tree, chest still heaving. When she closed her eyes to rest for a while, Thranduil also fell silent and observed her face: the locks of her hair that had gone astray, her dark lashes and flushed cheeks, her lips curved into a small smile. Quietly, he laid his head in her lap, pressing his cheek against the fabric of her gown.
Her grey eyes flung open. She looked down at him incredulously. "What are you doing?"
"Resting." He grinned and nuzzled his nose on the fabric again, feeling the softness of her thigh underneath. Then he observed her appearance again, sat up abruptly, and snatched the blue ribbon from her hair. He tossed it towards the river.
Erynlith gasped as she clutched the dishevelled mess that was her hair. "Thranduil! Why did you do that? Glorfindel fixed my hair for me this morning, and it was his ribbon, too!"
He smirked triumphantly, knowing that he outscored the warrior this time. "I like it more when your hair is unbound, and you do not need his ribbons. If you want, I can have someone make them for you—in all colours you want even."
She huffed and slumped back against the tree. "I want nothing but Glorfindel's ribbons."
His smile turned into a frown. He went back to rest his head in her lap, rubbed his cheek on her thigh, and felt her hand smack him on the shoulder. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I've missed you, Eryn."
"Hm, what?"
"Nothing." He rolled so that he would look up to her. "I missed hearing your voice, Eryn. Would you sing for me?"
She pursed her lips. "Why would I do that?"
He shrugged. "Because I asked you to?"
"Oh, fine." She laughed and smoothed his pale golden hair off his forehead. "What shall I sing about, tra-lo?"
He smiled his innocent smile. "Anything you like, tra-la."
Again, she laughed. "I have been working on a new song since last month. No one has ever heard it from me. Besides, it is still unfinished, so I cannot tell if it's good, tra-lo. Would you like to hear it?"
"I would be honoured."
Then, with a sad smile, Erynlith sang quietly:
"An Elven-maid there was of old,
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey.
Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
And in the mountains strayed."
Thranduil immediately sat up and touched her hands. "No," he whispered fervently. "Stop, Eryn. I do not want this song."
She snatched her hands from him and continued, as her tears began to form again:
"Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.
From helm to sea they saw him leap,
As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing."
Now Thranduil jumped on his feet, angry. "Stop that. Anything but this song, Eryn! You cannot do this to yourself. Nothing would come except sadness, and you must not give it to yourself."
Erynlith buried her face in her face and skirts, and began to cry again.
At once, he regretted his outburst. He sat in front of her, touching her shoulders and hands, hoping it would make her feel better. It did not.
"Eryn, please," he whispered gently, lifting her tear-stained face. "Forgive me; I should not have raised my voice. But you should take my words into account: Amroth would not want you in this state. He would not want to see you so broken and alone—because I am here now. I am here and I would not leave you."
"But Amroth left me," she argued, sniffling. "I was there and I should have saved him. Even now Nimrodel and Mithrellas are lost in the mountains." A sudden terror flashed in her eyes. "I should have not left them behind. I must return after them, yes. I must rescue them from the Orcs and Wargs." She bound to her feet and started to walk away.
Thranduil saw a woman obsessed in keeping everyone safe in her, and it caused him great fear. He took her hand and gathered her in his arms, trapping her into a tight embrace. He could feel her tears soaking his robe, but he did not care.
"You did everything you could, Eryn. Whatever you did was the best of your ability. The fate of Amroth and Nimrodel had never been in your hands, but theirs. You should not blame yourself, for all I know Amroth would never blame you. You know he adores you—his little cousin who always gets in danger. Please don't do this to yourself."
If there was one thing she needed the most, it was Thranduil's comfort. Thranduil personally knew Amroth, something that Glorfindel lacked. Even if Glorfindel tried his best to soothe her, his words meant next to nothing, for he did not know her cousin, and her cousin did not know Glorfindel. But Thranduil and Amroth were good friends and almost brothers.
She considered his words for a moment, feeling rather safe in his arms.
"I've missed you, Eryn," he whispered, barely audible.
"Hm? What?"
Chuckling, Thranduil kissed her hair and searched for her eyes. "I missed you, Eryn."
"Oh," she murmured, wiping away the rest of her tears. Then she smiled. "I missed you, too, Thranduil."
*I Atherdad - The Reunion
*Song of Nimrodel - by J.R.R. Tolkien
Next Chapter: Glorfindel makes a comeback... and then some.
Author's Notes: *sports commentator's voice* Thranduil takes the lead with 2-1, folks! Surely the King of Greenwood knows how to handle things smoothly and efficiently. Bonus points goes to him for playing the "It's-not-your-fault-because-Amroth-loves-you" card. However, the famed Balrog-slayer contemplates his wrong decision from the previous chapter. Well, Glorfindel, you're losing so you better step up your game!
Oh, by the way! I have also updated these collection of one-shots about little elfling Eryn and Erestor, t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶r̶u̶m̶p̶y̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶a̶n̶x̶i̶o̶u̶s̶ ̶b̶a̶b̶y̶s̶i̶t̶t̶e̶r̶ the Captain of Rivendell. It's called Forever Young, so if anyone's interested (or curious), please check it out! (^._.^)ﾉ
*bettsam0731 - Yeah! Fist bump!
*Overlord Rousdower - Glorfindel needs to make a move—like real soon. Else Thranduil's going to take all the cake home! *waves golden flag* Go Glorfindel!
*LovelyThorn - Soft-spoken Glorfindel versus the smirking Thranduil. Let's see how this one goes. ;)
*juliacensi95 - Guiliaaa~! I really, really missed you! I literally jumped out of bed and laughed out loud when I read your review! It's good to have you back! It's been a long month for the both of us, and I am sorry to hear that you got sick. Hope you're doing well now. Another apology for the passing of Amroth: it was hard to make him leave the story when his presence could have been helpful, because he ships Eryn with Thranduil no doubt. But hey, like Hercules (from Disney) said: "People do crazy things when they're in love". (I just hope Eryn and Thrandy won't make something stupid n̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶'̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶r̶e̶a̶d̶y̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶e̶a̶c̶h̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶)
As for Eryn, she does need all the attention and loving that she needs. *cough*Thranduil*cough* He's lucky to have Raithon to guide him though, because imagine the King of Greenwood being all insecure because someone else *cough*Glorfindel*cough* is prettier than him. All hail Raithon the love expert. (Frozen reference, yay) While Glorfy is usually gentle and soft-spoken, Thrandy brings the swag with his arrogant and soft of demanding attitude. I guess the "bad boy" type gets the ladies, amirite? ;)
Thank you for the wonderful message as usual, Guilia! I hope you're doing well with your studies and work!
*diana pavaleanu - You're quite right. When it comes to the "Been-loyal-to-you-for-the-last-thousand-years" department, Glorfindel definitely wins!
*only-one-mirkwood-princess - Jajaja! OMG, es demasiado pronto para un beso! (Wait, did I get the sentence right?) Mi Español es mal. T_T But I am teaching myself by speaking some words, phrases and sentences every once in a while. Don't worry though: a kiss would come in good time. XD Thank you!
*SparklesJustReads - If Thranduil ever walks up to me, I would immediately go weak in the knees and collapse then and there. Yes, Raithon needs more love!
*LadySoy - Glad you're enjoying the story so far! Like Glorfindel, Celairis won't be too happy if she finds out what's happening right now. She needs to accept the truth, even if it hurts. But we'll get there in a few more chapters. It's a little sad to think that Glorfindel might not get a chance: he needs someone, too.
*Creme Tea - *waves green flag of Greenwood with you* Team Thrandy!
*Asmodeus Black - It's been a while, my friend! Unfortunately, I do not play Skyrim, though I have a friend who does. Why do you ask? :)
*Senshi at Heart - Now that they're back together, I am quite sure Thrandy won't let her go that easily again.
*melodicechoes - Noooo! I like Glorfindel! He's my sweet warrior. *pats Glorfy's head* There, there my love...
*Star of Sea - I think we need more cheerleaders like you for Team Thrandy XD
*Mahiai - I am glad you like the exchange between Thranduil and Raithon. Best friends forever are those two. LOL. Your term "sexual tension" makes my fangirl heart all warmed up inside. Imagine the things they could do... If Eryn would ahve slapped Thrandy, I can imagine her going, "Oh! Are you alright? You're quite the read deal, are you not?" But she's mourning Amroth and Nimrodel's disappearance, so we're stuck with her sobbing. For now...
*Lord Illyren - If Glorfindel keeps steering clear from those two's path, Thrandy's bound to get her back sooner or later. Glorfindel won't let that happen. *is secretly cheering for Glorfindel*
*Flucas - Thrandy's actually good at making our hearts melt through his delicious voice and that heart-pounding stares. *squeals*
*UMAibow - Raithon para El Presidente 2016~
*Omorfi Enas - From the way he's handling the situation, I think Thranduil stands good chance in getting her back.
*Gremalor - In this fic, I made Haldir a very young warden who's still blossoming to become the experienced Chief Marchwarden that we know later on in The Lord of the Rings timeline. His role in the story is more like a coming-of-age theme, and like what Erynlith has mentioned above, he's basically still a child here—and what makes him protective of her is the fact that he grew up with Erfaron as his childhood hero. It's like an honour for him to work for someone he has looked up to since he and his brothers were elflings.
*Saura9 - Perhaps I should create a segment like "Raithon's Love Advice Corner" XD
*May - Yes, let us not forget about Team Glorfy!