Thranduil fled quickly up the stair, putting as much distance between himself and Annatar as possible - for he no longer wished any discourse with him; for fear of what revulsion the maia may show at sighting such a horrible wound spurred him into flight.
At the door of his assigned chamber he paused a moment, fumbling with the lock in his haste. The door opened after what seemed an age and within the inviting privacy of his quarters beckoned. He was through with parties, with diplomacy, with anything that did not involve his solitude. The heavy clothes were stifling and the jewelry clawed at him. Now more than ever Thranduil longed for the simple joys of Eöl's stone forge in the deep woods amid the secrecy and freedom in Nan Elmoth.
Annatar caught him at the door and stopped the elf from closing himself within. And Thranduil turned away from his intruder and hid his face in shame and grief beneath a fall of palest blond hair.
"Leave me! I do not desire the company of any this night - and I will not suffer any further intrusions on my privacy!"
Annatar stood at the door in silence for a long while, making no sound that Thranduil could hear above his own labored breath. Then he gently drew the door closed behind himself and with slow, cautious steps approached the prince. And in a low voice he spoke:
"Thrice have you now flinched in my presence. Three times from me have you averted your gaze. Three times you have hidden your face." With all the gravity of his force he asked; "Why?"
That question was hard as stone, unyielding and cold as it's weight sat upon Thranduils heart. Yet he did not, could not, bring himself to answer nor face the maia behind him.
"Thranduil." Annatar spoke again. And he gently touched Thranduils shoulder. Like a wounded animal the elf spun, eyes blazing with pain. Yet Annatar caught his hand before it could strike, twisting the arm aside. And with a warning stare Annatar halted any further movement as his free hand found it's way to Thranduils chin and gently he turned his head.
"What have you sought to hide from me elfling?"
After their brief meeting in Celebrimbors forge for a long while Thranduil had stood in silence as the light faded in the hall. The brilliant fire of the sunset sky slowly faded and merged into the cool blues and violets of early night. From their velvet darkness the stars twinkled unobstructed in the clear evening sky and above a full moon cast it's pale blue light over the marbled city below to send shadows dancing amid it's silvery radiance.
It was then that a soft tread came to the door and Thranduil, having now composed himself, turned to regard this visitor.
A silvan elf there was by the door, one who moved with reserve towards his lord - for he knew of his masters hesitance toward him and more than once had stirred his ire. For he stayed not for any deep bond with the Prince, but for the command of his King to ward him.
"What is it Idhrenir? Is there something you would trouble me with?" He spoke, and his voice echoed ominously in the dark room and was the only sound therein.
Idhrenir bowed with respect, though his expression was set and resigned with little joy in it.
"I am sorry to disturb you, my prince. But the Lord of Eregion has been looking for you and has requested that you meet with him."
And Thranduils mood lifted by a small amount and he made his way to the door, leaving dread thoughts to wait in the darkness.
"I would be glad to meet with him. What matter has he requested me for, or has he told you?"
"He would request your presence in the great hall tonight...for a banquet in honor of his guests, of which you are one."
And the hesitance at which this was spoken gave Thranduil pause, but only for a moment.
"I will meet with him then. Take me to him."
The way was winding but not too long, though the silence between the two elves made the time seem doubled. For Thranduil held little love for the Silvan his father had appointed to him and felt that all he did was watch with a hawks gaze - only to report later to the king. He thought Idhrenir less a guardian than a spy and thus had come to greatly dislike his presence.
Yet; though he knew Idhrenir to be weary of his scorn the young elf had not yet resigned his post nor made any comment or action that could justify Thranduil demanding his removal - and so they were at an impasse.
To Celebrimbors hall they went and one of the elves in the household was waved over and sent to find the master of the estate. A short while later Celebrimbor arrived. He was a sight of royalty, clad in deep burgundy with forest green silks beneath. And the collars and hems of the robes were richly embroidered with golden thread and studded with rubies and emeralds but his sash was of woven gold embroidered with the hues of his clothes and held with a cord of creamy white decorated with ivory and shell. And upon his head was a coronet of gold but crowned with white opals in the shape of a flower. In such guise did he meet them. And upon sighting Thranduil he spoke;
"Prince of the Greenwood! I have an invitation for you, for I would be much pleased if you were seen in my hall this night; for I am hosting a great banquet to welcome all of my guests."
And Thranduil spoke: "So I have been told, but forgive me for asking but who are these other guests?"
"The Dwarves of Moria who have come this very day. They are the ones we saw this morning at the gate. It is customary that upon their arrival they are welcomed with a feast."
But Thranduil now had it in his mind not to attend, for he had suffered many hurts at the hands of dwarven-folk and was not inclined to dine with any of that kind. So he thought quickly and spoke;
"It is a most generous offer, which is why I have come in person to tell you that I must respectfully decline. For I am still weary from my own journey."
"Yet rest and revelry may refresh you." Celebrimbor countered. "And I have much to ask about what was discovered this afternoon, for I have not yet spoken with Annatar on the matter of your armor and so do not know where we now stand. I would like a word with both of you tonight if possible."
Now Thranduils reluctance increased where Celebrimbors words were meant to encourage and Thranduil spoke again.
"I appreciate your interest, yet I think I would like to rest. Further, though it is a bit embarrassing, but I have no such finery to wear to a great banquet - we came primarily for the work of the armour not clad for diplomacy."
And now Celebrimbor took a look at his guest, who though well-clothed in silk of his own could not compare with the finery expected of such a grand gala as he was clad. And Celebrimbor laughed.
"That is a small matter, for I have no shortage of fine things in this hall!"
Within an instant he had taken Thranduil by the arm and so led him to a hidden hall on the westernmost side of the mansion. They passed fine tapestries woven from the finest threads and lanterns of polished silver and gold decked with sparkling crystals along their way. And after they had passed many doors Celebrimbor stopped before one painted green with gold writing declaring that the resident was a seamstress. But while Thranduil had expected Celebrimbor to knock no such thing happened for as soon as they halted at the door it flew open and a wizened, if stunted little woman came out to greet them.
"Oh! So you're back again are you? Didn't I just outfit you for this very evening already?!" The old woman badgered and the elf-lord laughed. "You did but you missed a spot!" And with a good natured push he sent Thranduil forward.
"He has no attire for the event I have planned and-"
"It's because the events you plan are always too darn fancy! No one else can afford them your luxuriousness!" She chided. "What you NEED is a good ol' fashion garden party for once. Now I LOVE making clothes for those!"
"I'll keep it in mind." Celebrimbor humoured her. Yet the old woman did not seem at all convinced and only harrumphed in his direction before guiding the young elf-prince by the arm.
"Now let me get a look at - now by my stars you're a pretty one!"
And while Thranduil sat with his mouth agape Celebrimbor laughed from the door. "I think you've found a new admirer!"
"I'm...charmed? Confused..but charmed."
The old woman waddled her way deeper into the room, waving for him to follow. And though he could hardly find a way around the clutter he kept as close to her as he could manage; now clearly seeing there was little hope of escaping to the confines of his room.
"I will see you there Thranduil, meet me in the great hall."
"Of course..." Thranduil replied, his heart heavy. Further inside the room the clutter became unimaginable. Rickety towers of fabric bolts wobbled and swayed to the ceiling while dress-forms of the most elegant make stood amidst them, each blossoming with a profusion of colourful sewing pins. Some had pieces of clothes in the making draped or fastened to them in roughly the correct spots. Yet amid the mounds of clutter Thranduil could see towards the back a few finished products of the chaos - gleaming like metal or shimmering like snow, rippling like water or as light as a breeze were garments in all hues along the outermost wall, each adorning it's own private dress-form - awaiting only the body of a graceful elf to make them complete.
"No time no time no time - always does it at the last minute he does!" The portly woman muttered, little more than a rounded patchwork ball bobbing through a sea of cloth and ribbon, a dandelion puff of hair wisping with her movements.
"yet I can do it, I can do it. And I've got something perfect in mind! Something I made a while back and never had a chance to show off - oohh he'll love it!"
When they reached the back she turned and with a gummy grin looked the prince up and down.
"Yea'...it should fit you just fine. I made it a bit too tall for most elves but you're a bit higher than the rest of 'em. And not at all broad like men tend to be. That's why I like fitting elves better - my clothes don't drape the right way on Men!"
The voice seemed to ring with a sense of remote disgust that made Thranduil wonder why an elderly mortal woman lived among the elves of Eregion instead of among her own kin. Still, she was fascinating - for though he had heard much of 'old age' among the Edain he had very seldom seen it with his own eyes. And though he thought himself discrete after a long while of poking and prodding of her new 'doll' the old woman smiled.
"You haven't seen one of us before have you?"
Thranduils expression was one of shock. "One what? An Edain? Yes, I have seen them."
"An OLD one." She laughed. "I know that look - plenty of you elves have it the first time you see one o' us! You don't age so you don't know what it looks like; or what it does to you. I'm not ashamed or embarrassed - you're just curious after all."
And at this Thranduil was much relieved and so he ventured a few questions.
"So...this aging...does it hurt?" He wondered, seeing such heavy distortion of he skin in the face and the knobbiness of arthritic bones.
"Oh yes...it does hurt when the weather changes or i don't move around like I should. But the pain starts gradual like and it's on you before you fully know what it's doing."
"And your hair is gray, but not everywhere. Is that normal for 'aging'?"
"Yes, yes. Our hair loses it's colour. Our skin does to to an extent, and our eyes if we live long enough. You see, we're not designed to last forever - we're designed to break down after a while and move on to something else. What that else is we don't rightly know. But I have faith that it's nothing horrible and I can go on living with that."
And Thranduil spoke, "It seems a sad thing though. That even if accident or illness does not claim you - even if you take care of your body and mind and use wisdom in your dealings and as such increase your years; yet in the end you will still die. It is a strange concept for us elves; for us death is not inescapable. If we are wise and fortunate we will live lives eternal and that is our gift."
And at the sorrowful look on his face the old woman gently patted his knee, and though Thranduil was unfamiliar with the human gesture he tolerated it, knowing she meant to comfort him.
"Don't be sad for that. There is a reason for everything I believe. Though we may not know it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist."
And when at last Thranduil gave a slight smile of agreement the old woman staggered to her weary feet again. "Now, let's get you in this! You have to tell me what he looks like when he sees it though! Woo - but you are a cutie young man! Oh! Look at me; you're no doubt older than I am! How old are you?
"1837 years-"
"Bless my stars, I'm only a babe in a cradle compared to you! No, no! Enough talk let's get you dressed before I embarrass myself more!"
And the two laughed together, putting the final touches on Thranduils raiments.
Celebrimbor for his part was a little ruffled at the obvious disappearance of his 'guest' from Valinor. The main part of the banquet had come and gone and now was the time for mingling among those assembled. Yet Annatar had not returned to the high table where he was an established guest of honour and Thranduil had yet to arrive. His keen dark eyes flicked back and forth across the room looking for the faintest trace, the faintest glimmer of those he searched for. Yet; any hope of venturing into the fray himself resulted in more than a thousand greetings and not a moment spent doing anything more than asking strangers and old friends from afar how they had been doing and if they were enjoying themselves. So he continued to remain, alone, at his seat at the high table in an admittedly sulky state of mind.
Eventually boredom overcame his desire to avoid small-talk and he made his way into the crowd. The expected happened and soon he was swamped by a host of dwarves all trying to offer him ale while he politely declined each one; knowing full well that to accept one mug would obligate him to accepting them all and in all honesty he had a city to run. Finally extracting himself from the drunken dwarven army he came to the far side of the room where he had just a moment ago glimpsed what he had been looking for.
"There you are!" He called out. "I was wondering if you two had gotten lost!"
His tone was light and joking, yet as the two came near him he paused and instead allowed them to make their way to him. In a near flawless symmetry the elf-prince and the maia approached, and Annatar was clad from head to toe in fine golden silk embroidered in delicate shades of auburn, crimson and many other hues in red and orange. Yet the fabric was cut and sewn together in a specific way that when he moved it rippled like flame in the light as if his garment were fire made solid. And he was adorned with wrought gold twined around gleaming jems of garnet and ruby. His stride was confident and strong; the gait of one who expects all to go to his will and can see the world no other way.
But when Celebrimbor looked to Thranduil he saw something that shocked him greatly; for the elf now wore a long tunic of white that faded to a light tinge of blue and throughout was silver thread interwoven with the palest sapphire silk. And within the seams glinted tiny white stones that reflected the light that fell upon them magnified tenfold. In the warm light of the candles and roaring fires lit on either side of the hall Thranduil almost exuded a cold air - as if his clothes were carved from glacial ice. But what had caught Celebrimbors attention most was the circlet he now wore - for it was made not with silver but mithril and into it were set numerous small jems that flashed like stars in the hall. Yet they were not diamonds from the earth but something far more rare; as they were of what few jems remained that had been crafted by the Ñoldor in Aman and their like was not to be found in Middle Earth. And he moved with the grace of a mighty river, swift and sure but almost removed from the world and unreachable.
Annatar and Thranduil crossed the room, approaching their guest who could now see that the dissimilarity was not only in their appearance but their demeanor as well; for Annatar strode with ancient power, long controlled and tempered by his will. Thranduil's steps were quick and light as any elves but as fluid as a running stream. And where Thranduils gaze flitted from place to place, ever watchful and alert with the wariness of any creature of the forest, Annatar's gaze never flinched nor wavered and he continued forward heedless to whatever might try to impede him.
Thus they stood before him now, awaiting his response. Yet he could only stare with a sad sort of smile upon his face. Then suddenly he spoke:
"I'm reminded of an old rhyme of the Edain. Just something odd I picked up from my seamstress some years ago; and it goes 'make new friends but keep the old, one is silver the other gold.'" And then he laughed. "But she quite forgot the rest of the poem so her advice ended there. Still, I am glad to see that you have both arrived back here for I have much I would like to discuss."
And so they spoke for a long while. At length once the basics of their findings on the armour had been explained Thranduil excused himself and this time Celebrimbor humoured him saying: "You've so graciously come at my request that I would be remiss to keep you from your bed any longer. Rest well."
Thranduil replied. "Thank You my Lord, and you as well."
Declining any escort, the young prince made his way from the hall - leaving the bustling crowd behind and looking forward to the quiet night ahead. And alone he walked down the paved path edged with roses that led from the mighty estate to the main entrance.
In this way Thranduil came to a bubbling fountain just before the great dining hall, for it lie between where the banquet was held and the long wing where he had been quartered. Celebrimbors estate was quite large and at the front was the central gate. And from this gate ran two wings, one to the east and another to the west yet both arms curved gracefully back to a mansion at the crest of a three tiered hill; and that was the main house where the great hall and Celebrimbors own quarters were.
Thranduil was glad for the walk, for his head cleared in the cool night air as he gazed at both stars and moon. Yet, at the fountain he slowed. For while the fountain was in the center from it split four paths leading out from what was a small hemmed in garden with an eight pointed trellis. Upon the trellis hung many broad leaved vines bearing the most beautiful of white petalled flowers whose intoxicating scent filled the air. And by the fountain stood a figure in a hooded tunic, faded and worn as well as breeches of the same state. It was this that caused Thranduil to pause, yet his presence was already sensed and the watcher turned, her white hair glimmering under the full moonlight, her golden eyes sharp as any predators and jsut as wary. With a slight bow she made to move, yet Thranduil called out to her;
"Please - you do not have to leave! I am only passing through."
And so the elf-maid paused and with an aloof regard she placed the fountain between them. "Then of course, my lord, you may pass through."
Her voice was a sweet as birdsong to his ears and Thranduil desperately searched for a reason to speak further with her - yet he feared she would take to flight if he tried to utter more than a fleeting salutation. Yet he could not stand to have failed in trying, so he spoke; "Thank You. But why do you wait here? And who do you wait for?"
The maiden was silent a moment but then replied; "I am in service to the Dwarves of Moria for this time and for the next several days. I await their exit from Lord Celebrimbors hall so that I might guide them safely to their rooms."
Thranduil gave a curt laugh. "I did not think the dwarves would deem they needed protection in a gated city."
"And did I say it was the dwarves I was protecting?" The maid answered, her tone sharp - yet there was the barest hinting tug of a smile at the corner of her eyes and Thranduil was relieved. But then without warning her mood changed and she became cold to him once more.
"It is late my young Lord. Surely you should be resting? If you do not mind I will go back to my lonely watch."
"But it need not be lonely." Thranduil explained, slowly crossing the distance towards her. Amber eyes darted to and fro and her softest of smirks turned to a scowl.
"I am a guide, a bodyguard and a mercenary. I am not sure why one so noble as yourself would wish my company. For I am not the least bit lonely."
In the face of such flat refusal Thranduil could do little and so with head lowered made as graceful a retreat as he could towards the path that led to his wing. Yet he could not help but glance behind at those staring golden eyes that seemed to pierce through even to the core of his very being. But words caught in his throat and it was hopeless to speak, so instead he turned away down his lonely path - noting that the night hadn't felt so cold a few moments ago.
As he walked grim thoughts coursed through his mind; for it had not been the first time he had been turned away by someone he felt strongly towards. And though it was a minor hurt compared to those he had suffered before, it was in much the same vein and so triggered those deeper feelings as well.
Did not Artanis do much the same thing? For though in the beginning she enjoyed my company she soon found Celeborns far more to her liking; and even though I do not begrudge him it is still bitter to know that they are happy and I am still alone. For how old am I now? Many centuries have gone by and yet I am no closer to ending this solitude. Yet perhaps so shall it ever be...
And thus he came to the bottom stair of the eastern wing where he was quartered. Yet on that step he was no longer alone, for a figure came out of the shadows.
"Thranduil." Annatar spoke. "We need to talk."
"What more would you say to me?" The elf asked, the long night wearing on the last of his patience; for his heart had already endured much and felt as if it might simply stop under the strain of it all. "For if you wish to doubt my word or my sanity then your thoughts are best kept to yourself - I don't have time for them!"
Annatar stood his ground at the top of the step, knowing full well that to reach his chambers Thranduil would need to pass him by - and this he knew the prince loathe to do. Yet Thranduils pace was unchecked as he made for his room.
"And what do you have time for?" He asked as the elf passed. "Idle banter with dwarves and the pursuit of maidens? You hold me in such high esteem, young prince." Annatar snarled. At this Thranduil turned, wrath clouding his judgement and obscuring the promise had made to himself to hold a civil tongue - for now he had reached the end of his tolerance.
"I do not need either of them and neither do I need you! For all your flattery your words are hollow and I do believe - if I may be so bold - that the only one you are trying to help is yourself!"
Annatar's own anger flared at this and he took a step forward, yet his words were spoken with mocking laughter.
"Oh and I might forgive your boldness if I knew it only to be drunken banter - yet I know you've not even touched a drop of anything offered to you this night. What's wrong? For someone who endured dragon-fire the burn of a little ale shouldn't bother you."
"You are rather rash with your words, Annatar." Thranduil growled, his eyes wide with wrath, his body as tense as a snake coiled and ready to strike. "And what do you know of pain? Cosseted as you were in Valinor suffering nary a scratch! Perhaps it's a lesson that is long overdue!"
And Thranduil would have moved forward had not a thickness in the air stopped him, for suddenly the night grew silent with a deadly calm where not even the smallest thing dare move and even the stars seemed to dim. There, before him Annatar stood. His hands clenched tightly from the struggle within himself - for in truth now his resolve was sorely tested and had Thranduil said yet another sharp word to him then the prince may not have survived the night. Yet some wisdom caused him to hold his peace as the other spoke; voice trembling with fury barely contained.
"Pain? You would speak to me of pain? What you have endured is scarcely worth noting; you are little more than a child crying over a scraped knee! If you don't know the meaning of the word 'pain' then I would be more than willing to elaborate on it for you, prince."
The air was filled with a dark energy that crackled over the stones and even into the earth itself. And part of that energy touched the wound in Thranduils face and from within the remnants of the dragons spell awoke in it's blazing might. Crying out suddenly the prince turned away, bringing both hands to his face where the deep rends in the flesh were now exposed to the cool night air. And he cradled it for only a moment before he raised his head, and peering through his fingers watched Annatar who was now regarding him with a most curious expression; as one who has caught a glimpse of something but only that.
Fear suddenly filled Thranduil that his deformity had been revealed and in heartbeat he turned and fled up the steps and into the building, making for his room as fast as his feet could carry him.
Authors Note:
OMG guys what are you three even doing? Srsly.
So here's part one, part two should be up soon as it's basically one chapter so long I had to split it in two.
Thanks to all my readers! I meant to get this up sooner but work is being work! XD