A/N: Have some elf angst
Unable to fight off the awakening brightness of the rays of Anor that shined with ease through his gauzy bedchamber curtains any longer, Thranduil cracked open his good eye and gave a soft groan. It was past the time he should have gotten up even with the day's official later start; for the Elven King was to host a late, informal brunch - a way for the realm to collectively get rid of the hangovers from the feast the night before. But removing himself from his soft, sleep warmed bed was the last thing Thranduil felt like doing. All the Valar above he felt terrible!
Thranduil let himself lie lazily in his rumpled sheets for another long moment; he really did feel badly, far worse than the four glasses of Dorwinion he'd had the night before warranted. The blonde slung his arm across his eyes to block out the offensive sun - he would give himself a few more minutes, a few more beautiful minutes in bed and then once he felt a tad better he'd get up and begin to get ready for the brunch.
A few minutes came and went but Thranduil felt no better. In fact he began to feel worse and with resigned trepidation he realised that he felt so awful not because he'd overindulged in wine the night before, but because his most dreaded, lingering effect from his near death brush with dragon fire had begun to make itself known.
Like an unwelcome caress the pain suddenly and violently slithered across Thranduil's senses, it radiated out from his scarred left side and quickly threatened to overwhelm him. Not wanting the pain to get any worse than it already had, the Elven King dragged himself upwards and out of bed and hurried into his bath chamber intent on swallowing down a dose of his special painkiller.
With a grunt of pain Thranduil threw open his gilded washroom cabinet, hurriedly snatched his bottle of painkiller and its small accompanying dosage glass before he tipped the bottle into it. Much to his dismay the medicine trickled out slowly and sluggishly before coming to a dripping stop with no more than a mere capful having come out of the bottle and into the dosage glass.
How had he come to have so little painkiller remaining? Yes, Thranduil knew that the number of times per day he took the medicine had increased but he had not realised just how close he had come to running out of it altogether.
Another wave of burning bright pain pushed all thoughts from his mind and the Elven King wasted no more time in swallowing down what little painkiller he did have.
It was not enough; despite his frantic hopes Thranduil knew deep down such a small dose of the medicine would not be enough to even dull the fiery pain that licked at his skin in ever increasing waves of scorching agony.
He needed more and he needed it now.
Mind made up, the blonde King snatched up a clean robe and threw it on before he made his way back through his suite and out the door, uncaring of his unbrushed hair, general rumpled appearance and the odd looks they gained him from the palace guard, intent on heading to the healing halls to see Calelon and gain medicinal salvation.
Thranduil had made it down only one floor when he realised he would not be able to get all the way to the healing ward under his own power - not with the way the pain clawed at his skin in flaming agony.
Luckily for him the floor he had managed to get down to was the one that housed high-ranking members and Lords of his court. Aglardaer, his Crown Commander and best friend, his rooms were on this floor. Decision made, Thranduil grit his teeth and dragged himself through the heavy oaken doors, down the lushly carpeted corridor and toward his friend's suite.
~o~
Thump, thump, thump!
Aglardaer glared at his door in annoyance, who on Arda was trying to break it down with such temerity?
"Yes, who is it?" Aglardaer's voice was terse.
"Ag- Aglardaer."
The silver haired Commander was shocked to hear Thranduil's somewhat strained sounding voice and threw open his door immediately to find his best friend and King standing before him. Aglardaer immediately knew something was wrong and was proven right but a mere moment after he'd beckoned Thranduil in as the blonde collapsed to the floor even as Aglardaer shut the door gently behind him.
"What is it Thranduil? What is this? What hurts?" Aglardaer dropped to his knees next to the King and his hands fluttered uselessly over him, afraid to touch. "Ai Valar; I thought Calelon said you were well, said you were healed - what then still ails you?"
"Pain…killer," Thranduil managed to grit out in between deep pained breaths. "I need…more…annin…fetch Calelon…tell him…hurry."
"Painkiller?" Aglardaer's mind drew a blank for a long moment even as he did his best to help his blonde friend up from the floor and onto his nearby chaise lounge.
"Yes please," Thranduil gasped. "I have run out…f-fetch Calelon… p-please mellon-nin… I beg that you hurry. I can- cannot take much more of this… it burns!"
Thranduil's last painfully gasped word gave the Commander's memory a sharp and sudden jolt as he remembered what his friend had told him about the pain and complications resulting from his dragon inflicted burns.
"As for the pain…well…the tales are no myth – tis pain like I have never had the misfortune of feeling before – it burns always…a bone deep fiery ache. I sit here now only because of the wisdom of the Istari; Aiwendil and Calelon have concocted a powerful painkiller for me and it works well."
"Your special painkiller - of course! I will fetch Calelon now mellon, worry not." Aglardaer gently eased Thranduil to lie back. "Just rest easy and try not to move too much, I will be back with your pain relief before you know it."
Thranduil's only response was a laboured groan and Aglardaer looked back at him in worry for a moment longer before he came to a decision and dashed from the room.
The Commander moved with a swift and steady purpose - not toward the healing wing - not yet, but instead he made for Lord Arahaelon's suite which was only a few doors down from his own. The healing wing was on the very last floor of the stronghold and Aglardaer was worried about leaving Thranduil alone for the amount of time it would take him to get down to Calelon and back.
Figuring the King would not want his children to see him in such a state as he was now, comfort though they might be to him, Aglardaer decided to instead get Lord Arahaelon to sit in with Thranduil whilst he saw to fetching Calelon and the much-needed painkiller.
~o~
The sound of the door opening once more was music to Thranduil's ears before the still rational part of his brain informed him that it was far too soon for Aglardaer to have already been back with his painkiller.
"Tharan-min?"
The sound of his Regent's concerned voice both proved his rational self correct and caused a swell of irritation to rise in him. What did Aglardaer mean by calling in Arahaelon to watch over him as if he were some mere elfling?
True anger at his friend for his meddling was hard to muster though; not when the pain of his burns were screaming across his body and consuming all his senses. Thranduil bit his lip and writhed uncomfortably atop the chaise lounge in a vain effort to find a position that did not cause him untold agony.
Arahaelon's face loomed into the limited sphere of his vision. "Sîdh, sîdh Tharan-min. Please, just try to rest, Aglardaer and Calelon will be here soon enough with something for your pain. Just hold your peace a little bit longer."
Peace? Thranduil would have scoffed had he not been so desperately trying to hold back the screams of anguish that threatened to tear from his throat. Until he got a proper dose of his painkiller there would be no peace for him.
He clenched his teeth as another burning wave tore through him.
Peace just now was but a distant dream.
~o~
Arahaelon tried and failed to hold back a wince as he watched Thranduil bite down and clean through his own lip, clearly in the deepest throes of agony. He cursed under his breath and mentally pleaded for Aglardaer and Calelon to hurry up. It was the worst form of torture to have to watch Thranduil like this and at last the grim faced Regent could watch no longer and moved to gather the one he considered as a son in his arms.
It was a mistake.
Thranduil screamed as though a warg had rent him in half with its jaggedly sharp teeth and Arahaelon jumped back as if he'd been doused with boiling oil and cursed again. He'd only intended to help, to offer some form of comfort - but it was clear that Thranduil's pain was such that he could not bear even the simplest or gentlest of touches just now.
The Regent stepped back and crossed his arms, his face pulled into an unhappy mien having never before felt so utterly unable to help one he so dearly loved.
Come on Aglardaer, Calelon - hurry back, Arahaelon mentally urged, Thranduil is in dire need of you.
~o~
Aglardaer burst through the doors of the healing halls and demanded of the first healer he came upon Calelon's whereabouts before he rushed off into the direction he had been pointed. A part of the Crown Commander was well aware of the ruckus and scene he was making in a place that should have been filled with tranquillity and restful silence, but he could hardly bring himself to care as he remembered the way Thranduil had groaned and writhed in pain.
"Calelon!" Aglardaer pushed into the royal healer's apothecary without so much as a knock upon the door.
The silver haired healer turned round, sprigs of herbs in one hand and a pestle in the other. "Hir Aglardaer?" Calelon's voice was filled with curiosity and no small amount of concern.
"Calelon, it is Thranduil. Bring the painkiller that you and Aiwendil developed for him and come quickly. He is in great pain."
A frown overtook Calelon's kind face. "What do you mean he is in pain? Has he not any painkiller left? I know that the portion I gave Aran Thranduil earlier in the week will be getting a bit on the low side - indeed I am mixing up a new batch right now; but he should still have enough for a couple of full doses."
"I do not know what has happened," Aglardaer shook his head to emphasise his point, "only that he is in great pain and sent me to get you to bring him more of the medicine and to be quick about it."
The Crown Commander looked anxiously at the half full mortar and scattering of herbs on the countertop behind Calelon. "Have you any more of the painkiller left? Or do you need to finish mixing up a new batch? Only if that is the case, I would ask that you come and do what you can for Thranduil's pain in the meantime. As I really do not think he could bear the wait."
"Aran Thranduil is in luck - I have another three doses here already made." Calelon paused to rummage round in a cabinet before he pulled forth a small bottle triumphantly. "Come, if the King's pain is as bad as I fear then we should make all haste."
Aglardaer followed Calelon's quick and purposeful steps out of the apothecary through the healing halls and back up toward his suite of rooms where Thranduil waited, glad that a dose of the special painkiller had been so easily procured for his friend.
~o~
The floor that housed Aglardaer's rooms was strangely quiet and abandoned; no palace guards in place nor was there anyone else milling about and an almost eerie hush permeated the long hallway, but the Commander gave it little thought - intent as he was on making it back to his best friend's side.
He threw open the door to his suite and was immediately assailed by the heart-stopping and heartrending sounds of Thranduil in deepest anguish.
His King and friend now seemed delirious with agony - tortured screams, whimpers and moans emitting from Thranduil as he writhed in the loose cage that Lord Arahaelon's arms made about him.
The harassed-looking Regent snapped his gaze upwards toward them. "Have you brought it? Have you brought the painkiller?"
"Yes, I have a dose just here. Please prop him up a little so that I might get him to swallow it." Calelon stepped neatly around Aglardaer and moved into swift action.
The Crown Commander watched as between them Caleon and Arahaelon got Thranduil to cease in his moaning and thrashing for the few scant seconds needed to allow them to administer the painkiller.
And even though he had known that it would not be so, that no painkiller worked so quickly, Aglardaer still found himself with a crushing sense of disappointment as tortured sounds continued to emit from Thranduil.
"Sîdh, sîdh Tharan-min," Arahaelon soothed the blonde in his arms before he turned a questioning gaze upon the royal healer. "How long until it kicks in?"
"Quite soon, within the next ten minutes; though with his level of pain it may well feel like ten years for Aran Thranduil."
Another long agonised sound came from the King and Calelon gently placed his hand upon Thranduil's forehead and closed his eyes in concentration. Almost immediately the blonde slumped further into Arahaelon - all the pained tension eased out of him as he slipped into a forced sleep.
"I do not like to do that - especially not when Aran-nin has been making such great progress - but needs must. His level of distress was high and despite the medicine's swift effectiveness it would still be too long before Aran Thranduil felt its pain relieving effects. This healing sleep is for the best."
"Yes, it is." Arahaelon agreed even as he gathered the limp Thranduil up in his arms and moved through to the next room to lay him gently in Aglardaer's bed. "It was utter torture to see him like that, to hear him scream and shout as he did. I had to cast a silencing spell upon the room as well as have the whole floor cleared lest anyone heard him."
Aglardaer nodded as he remembered how deathly silent and empty the hallway had been as he and Calelon had approached. He reached over and tugged one of his blankets a tad higher so that it rested just under Thranduil's chin. "I am sorry you had to go through that Arahaelon, but I did not want him to be on his own and you were the only one I could think of who he'd not resent seeing him like that. I assure you I came back as quickly as possible."
Arahaelon waved aside the Commander's apology with a brusque motion of his hand. "Never mind that, what I would like to know is how he came to run out of this painkiller? If he is so dependent upon it to keep this great pain at bay why did you not ensure he had enough Calelon?"
The royal healer pursed his lips and a slight frown creased his brow. "Aran Thranduil had enough of the painkiller to serve his needs for the week - that I assure you."
"Clearly not, when I have had to sit here with him and watch and listen to him lose himself to anguish," Arahaelon snapped.
The frown on Calelon's face deepened. "I am telling you Hir-nin that Aran Thranduil had what he needed. I do not make mistakes with my dosages - he would have had enough for three full doses a day for the entirety of the week. As it is Ormenel he should have had enough for today as well as Oraearon and Orbelain before I would need to provide him with the new batch that I was working on mixing up just now."
The silver haired healer stared down at the King's unconscious form for a long moment before he spoke again. "I can only assume that Aran Thranduil has begun to build a tolerance to the painkiller and as a result has been taking more than my prescribed three doses per day. It is the only explanation for why the painkiller has run out as quickly as it has."
Arahaelon scowled. "And I am guessing he made no mention of the fact he was increasing his dosages to you?"
Calelon shook his head, "Nay Hir-nin, else I would have provided him with more in good time."
The royal healer sounded rueful and not wanting the silver haired ellon to feel too badly over Thranduil's poor communication skills, Aglardaer chimed in. "Are you able to make a stronger dosage of the painkiller now that we suspect Thranduil has developed a tolerance to what you currently give him?"
"Aye, I could mix up something stronger; however it would cause Aran-nin to be rather drowsy, indeed it may even simply put him to sleep. We are threading quite a fine line as it is with his current medicine and it is as strong and as powerful as we can make it without those unwanted side-effects."
Calelon's frown was now so deep it threatened to cleave his face in two. "The healing sleep I have put Aran Thranduil into will keep him under well into tomorrow morning. I will return to my apothecary now and finish up the batch of his regular painkiller as well as seeing what I can do about something a bit stronger."
"But what about long-term?" Arahaelon demanded. "Even if you do find something stronger, eventually Thranduil will develop a tolerance to that too. What then? Besides, it cannot be good for him to always be under the effect of one opioid or the other."
"You are correct on both points - indeed these were fears that Aran-nin raised himself." Calelon gave a shrug, "Mithrandir promised that he had something in mind that would help long-term. He left a few weeks back with a promise that he was going to seek out the solution, but I have yet to hear from him so that will be another task for me. I will send word out to him; see if he has made any progress with this mysterious solution that he refused to discuss with both myself and Aran Thranduil."
The royal healer clapped his hands, "Right - I have much to be getting on with and will take my leave of you now. I do recommend someone stays with Aran-nin and watches over him as he sleeps. I will check in again this evening and I will be here tomorrow morning when he awakens but I would feel better if he were under constant supervision. If neither of you can commit to it however, I shall send up one of my own nestryn."
"Nay, that will not be necessary."
"No!"
Aglardaer found himself speaking at the same time as Arahaelon and smiled over at the Regent. It was clear neither of them planned to let Thranduil out of their sight until he awakened and they could reassure themselves that he was no longer in any pain.
That settled, Calelon gave them both a nod and swept from the room whilst Aglardaer and Arahaelon made themselves comfortable, settled in for a long watch and did their best to push away the worry for Thranduil and his long-term prognosis that gnawed at them both.
~o~
"And how are we feeling today Aran-nin?"
Thranduil glared over at his far too sprightly healer. "I am well for now Calelon as you can clearly see."
The Elven King really wasn't in the mood for the type of cheeriness Calelon exuded. He'd woken up feeling like death warmed over thanks to said healer's decision to force him down into a "healing" sleep. Thranduil didn't know what exactly was "healing" about it - he always awoke feeling totally disoriented. And when he added that to what he remembered of yesterday's events - the horrendously burning pain that had wracked his body because he had run out of his painkiller, because his painkiller was no longer as effective - well, there was absolutely nothing to be so damned happy about so far as the King was concerned.
"Come now Aran-nin, do not be like that. I bring good news."
"Oh? I thought you brought medicine." Thranduil stared pointedly at the silver tray Calelon had placed on his bedside table that held several small bottles and glasses all smelling strongly of healing herbs.
Calelon smiled benignly. "That too, but I also bring news I feel would interest you. News from Mithrandir."
Thranduil arched a brow, "What does that meddler want now?"
"He only wishes the best for you Aran-nin, I do hope you know that," Calelon's words held a tinge of fond exasperation. "Anyway, I have received word back from him that barring any misfortune on the road he will be back with us in the next ten days. And what is more he purports to have a solution with him for your long-term pain management."
"Really?" Thranduil sat up straighter in interest.
Calelon held up his hands to stall the flurry of questions that were on the tip of the blonde's tongue. "I have no answers for you Aran-nin as to what this solution is. Mithrandir disclosed nothing more than what I have already told you. Now," the healer gestured to the silver tray, "I have brought more of your regular painkiller. But as we both now know it is no longer as effective - I have a stronger one here for you as well."
"And by stronger I presume you mean it is of the type that will make me slow, sleepy and stupid?" Thranduil grouched.
Calelon gave a soft hum of assent and bobbed his head. "I am afraid so Aran-nin. The painkiller Aiwendil and I developed for you was as strong as we could get it without drowsiness coming into play."
"I do not wish to spend my days drugged to kingdom come Calelon; besides I need to begin on the next steps of my rehabilitation - begin working with my Elite on regaining my battle fitness."
"I know Aran-nin; the stronger medicine can be taken just at night or only in times of greater need. Truly, I hope you shall have no need of it. I am hoping that you will be able to manage with increased doses of your regular painkiller until Mithrandir arrives…but, well - the stronger one is here just in case - lest we have a repeat of yesterday morn."
Thranduil winced at the mention of the state he'd ended up in the previous morning. He knew he ought to have confided in Calelon about his increased dosage but he'd been too scared to acknowledge the problem when at that point they'd still no solution to manage his pain long term.
The Elven King heaved a great sigh and reached to pull the tray and all its bottles toward him. "Very well Calelon, hannon-le for your pre-emptive thinking. Now," Thranduil picked up a dosage glass and his bottle of usual painkiller, "I have spent enough time loafing in bed. It is time I started the day."
~o~
Thranduil refused to look his healer in the eyes as he all but snatched the bottle of his regular painkiller Calelon had brought up for him. The fourth bottle in the eight days since the Elven King had collapsed in burning pain.
The medicine hardly seemed to be doing anything for him now; instead of just taking more doses he had to take larger ones as well. To the point that Calelon had assigned an apprentice who was solely responsible for picking and blending the herbs that were needed for the painkiller, so that it was continuously in stock and ready whenever Thranduil called for it.
The past few days had seen Thranduil get into the habit of taking a quadruple dose of the medicine as soon as Anor rose in the hope of getting it to last the morning through so he might work on some of his rehabilitation. Yet despite the greatly increased dosage, by lunchtime the King could feel the tell-tale warning tingle that always began on the left side of his face that would see him forced to take another quadruple dose to make it through the afternoon to early evening.
"You cannot keep this up Aran-nin, you cannot keep taking such a high dose of medicine." Calelon's voice was grave. "Why not use the stronger medicines I have brought - they will require you to take a much smaller dose for far more effective pain relief."
"Yes but they will make me sleepy, too tired to do the work I need to be doing. My rehabilitation has been disrupted as it is - do you want me to fall behind completely? Or to do none at all? For that is what shall happen if I take the stronger painkillers."
The royal healer threw up his arms in a rare show of true exasperation. "Does it really matter all that much at this point Aran-nin? With the sheer amount of your regular painkiller that you are currently taking you are suffering with side effects anyway. Do you think I have not noticed the dizziness that assails you whenever you get up or move too sharply? Or that I have not heard you routinely throwing up your breakfast and lunch?"
Thranduil said nothing - what could he say? For it was all true; he now often found himself dizzy, nauseous and it was a losing battle to keep his food down after taking one of his much increased doses of painkiller. Opioid sickness - it was well known amongst maethyr and nestryn alike and a thing to be avoided if at all possible.
"What is it that you want from me Calelon? What do you expect me to do? I shall be in all consuming pain if I do not take the dosage that I am currently using."
"Of course I do not expect you to sit there with the pain of dragon fire burning through your veins Aran-nin, tis why I provided you the stronger painkillers. You can take a smaller dose with less side effects than what you suffer from now. And yes, you may be somewhat drowsy and yes, your rehabilitation will be delayed a bit but Mithrandir promised to be here within ten days and that is only two days more. Even if he did meet a bit of trouble on the road he surely can't be too much longer. You can wait a few days - it will not cause you to lose any of the progress you have made in your recovery so far."
Thranduil was unconvinced. "You put so much faith in the wizard yet he has not even told us of this grand plan for my long-term pain management. Forgive me if I will try to handle things myself for now. And what's more I want to get back to my life as it should be; long have I spent abed and now that I am finally well enough to begin all the work that needs to be done to see me return to the throne and relieve Rithel of that burden, you are telling me I must put it aside and spend my days dotish in bed once more as we wait upon Mithrandir. Who, might I remind you, is not exactly known for his timekeeping skills."
The Elven King at last looked up from the bottle he held so desperately in his hands and locked eyes with Calelon, desperate to get the healer to understand where he was coming from. "I have momentum behind me Calelon, the next stretch of my recovery will not be easy but I am more motivated than ever - please do not tell me I must give it up now."
"I am not asking you to give it up for time untold Aran-nin - only a few days - to give your body a break from all these side effects. You must know that this isn't good for you."
Thranduil shook his head, "I would rather have an entire day of all these side effects than even a minute of that pain Calelon. You do not understand what it is like…to feel as though you burn from the inside out. Do not make me suffer it Calelon."
The royal healer crossed his arms and gave the King a somewhat hurt look. "You know very well I do not propose you to suffer even for a minute Aran-nin. I just want you to cut down on your dosage and the best way for you to do that without feeling any pain is to take the stronger medication."
"Even if it puts me to sleep and puts me behind?"
"You are on no schedule Aran-nin - you have all the time in the world to return to your throne - none will rush you. Far better for you to be asleep than slowly poisoning and weakening your body and worsening your condition by taking too large doses of a medication you have all but built up a full tolerance to."
"Calel-"
Thranduil was surprised when the royal healer cut him off with a flourish of his hand.
"Nay Aran-nin, no more. If you will not listen to sense and do what must be done of your own free will then so be it."
The healer stalked out of Thranduil's bedchamber and into his bathing room and began to shuffle and slam things about as though he were looking for something (and as though he were in a great rage.)
The blonde felt somewhat ashamed that he had worked the nearly always calm and level headed Calelon up to the point of anger and waited with bated breath to see what the healer would do or say next. He had sounded rather angry just then.
Calelon appeared once more, a small vial in one hand that he carried carefully. He brought it right up to Thranduil and held it out. It was a dose of the stronger painkiller that the Elven King had been so adamant about not taking.
"As you will not listen to me Aran-nin you leave me no choice but to order you to drink this now. As royal healer when it comes to the health and well-being of the royal family I rank higher than even you Aran-nin, and so now I use my rank and command you to take the stronger painkillers henceforth. No more of your regular painkiller is to be taken nor shall it be provided. Give it here."
Thranduil was too stunned by Calelon pulling rank on him - a thing that had never happened in all his days as King - to put up any resistance to having the bottle of his regular painkiller removed from his grasp and replaced with the small vial Calelon had carried.
"Drink it." The silver haired healer's voice was kind but firm.
The sharp, astringent smell of healing herbs assailed him and Thranduil looked at the small glass container in his hand with dismay. "You would truly do this to me Calelon?"
"Nay, Aran-nin - I do this for you. Now please drink - I am loathe to command you again."
Thranduil took a deep breath in effort to stave off the maelstrom of emotions that assailed him in that moment. Rage at his healer and the evil pain that plagued him, frustration at the time that would be lost from his rehabilitation, despair that he would once again be confined to his bed.
He took a deep breath and then another and another and at last Thranduil tipped the vial up to his lips and drank.
~o~
The next few days that followed were not happy ones.
The stronger medication affected Thranduil exactly as he had predicted and thus the Elven King had precious few lucid moments throughout the day. Lethargic and drowsy throughout the majority of the day, Thranduil was unable to progress with his physical rehabilitation as he had planned nor was he even able to keep up with the exercises he had been doing previously - a fact that caused him great distress.
Worse than that however was the return of his nightmares; the deep drowsiness and mild hallucinogenic properties of the stronger painkiller along with his dread filled memories conspired against the blonde to ensure that his sleep was no longer peaceful but disturbed and oft disrupted as he woke himself with his own screams of fear and horror.
Trapped in his own pain, both real and imagined, Thranduil withdrew from everyone once more - including forgoing his evening meals with Legolas and Rithel - as despair began to swallow him whole.
~o~
"I do not like the way Thranduil has taken to hiding himself again - especially from his hîn. Though they accept what Arahaelon and I have told them for now, that their Adar has had a relapse from pushing too hard during physical therapy, I know both Legolas and Rithel are worried."
Calelon shrugged helplessly at Crown Commander Aglardaer. "I do not know what to tell you Hir-nin; though the painkillers aid in keeping at bay terrible physical pain they have induced in the King great mental anguish. I worry for him - depression snaps at his heels - he slides further into despair with every day."
The royal healer wrung his hands, "I feel as though I have made the wrong choice in insisting that Aran-nin take the stronger medication if this is what it has led to. Yet had I let him continue as he was he'd have been rather firmly in the clutches of serious opioid sickness and perhaps even addiction."
"You did what was right Calelon, do not waver in your decision now," Arahaelon's face was grave but his voice held a kindly note. "Ultimately this was the best choice for Thranduil though not one we can maintain long-term. Our only recourse now is to hope that Mithrandir does not tarry too much longer and that he truly has a long-term solution with him. And in the meantime we must do all we can to help Thranduil hold to hope."
~o~
And try they did.
Both Lord Arahaelon and Crown Commander Aglardaer took it in turns to sit with Thranduil during his more lucid moments – when the stronger medication briefly set his mind free from the fog of lethargy and disorientation.
They entreated Thranduil to keep up with the smaller tasks he'd recovered – writing and replying to missives for example – as a way of keeping his spirits up and not letting himself back-slide in the progress he'd made so far. The duo also encouraged the blonde King to continue to take walks round the palace and in its surrounding gardens – both for the fresh air and again as a way of keeping the creeping despair at bay.
Yet their words fell on deaf ears for all the notice Thranduil took of them; the Elven King instead ignored them and laid listlessly in bed until the medicine induced fatigue overtook him once more.
Still, both Regent and Crown Commander continued to show up every day in effort to try and stave off not only Thranduil's ever growing despair but their own as well.
~o~
Elrond gazed at the dark green smudge in the rapidly diminishing distance that signified the Woodland Realm with a slight feeling of trepidation. He still somewhat felt as though he had made the wrong choice in allowing Mithrandir to drag him here.
The Peredhel Lord very determinedly did not sigh as he thought back over the circumstances that had led him to this point…
"Hir-nin Elrond the wizard Mithrandir is here and wishes an audience with you immediately - he says it is urgent."
Elrond looked up at the aide who stood in the doorway of his office. "Mithrandir?" he parroted in bewilderment. What on earth was the grey wizard doing here? He'd certainly sent no word that he was to be expected - which was just typical Mithrandir really.
"Very well send him in," Elrond gave a tired wave of his hand and shoved aside the paperwork he'd been desperately trying to finish up all the morn long. Wizards were stubborn creatures and he knew he'd not get a moment's peace until he'd let Mithrandir have his say.
Their conversation had been terse - in fact it could hardly be called a conversation, but more that Mithrandir had all but ordered Elrond to leave with him immediately for Thranduil's realm.
Elrond had dismissed the wizard's wishes with a chuckle thinking that Mithrandir could not possibly be serious. Surely he did not expect Elrond to just up and leave his own realm at the drop of a hat. Yet that was precisely what Mithrandir had expected, giving only the reason that the Woodland realm needed Elrond's aid.
Elrond had nearly fallen out of his chair upon hearing that. Thranduil's people were notoriously closed off to outsiders - even their fellow elves. Sure, trade flowed between the two realms and with it the odd bit of gossip but that was as far as it went. The wood elves were exceptionally private and aloof - cold and distant to any who were not of their own in a way that did not invite any enquiries and certainly not any meddling in their affairs. And so to imagine that they would have sent an outsider to fetch another outsider to help them seemed ludicrous in the extreme and Elrond had said as much to Mithrandir…
"I am sorry mellon, but I will not go with you - I simply cannot see it - that Thranduil would send you to me for aid for his people? Nay, you must be mistaken and I will not abandon my realm to hare off on some fool's errand."
"Well," Mithrandir shuffled his feet and shoved his hands into the pockets of his long grey robes. "I did not say exactly that the wood elves have asked for help - but that is beyond the point - they need it all the same."
Elrond narrowed his eyes at that and gave a dismissive and firm shake of his head. "Well that decides it; if the wood elves do not even know you are here on their behalf then I certainly shall not get involved. I will not interrupt what little and tentative peace there is between us - not even for your sake Mithrandir - for it has taken far too long for us to reach even this delicate balance in our relations with our Woodland kin. Nay, I will hear nothing more of it."
"You must listen Elrond! I know how things are between Imladris and the Woodland Realm and I would not interfere were it not needed."
Elrond snorted, "When does a wizard ever resist interfering in the affairs of others?"
Mithrandir frowned at him, bushy eyebrows drawn so closely together that they almost obscured his eyes. "Thranduil needs your help Elrond. I would not ask for it were it not serious. I cannot tell you right now what it is that he needs help with - it is not my place - but I would remind you that you and Thranduil were once very great friends. And yes, centuries have passed along with a great many hurtful things but I am telling you, Thranduil - your friend - is in dire need of your help."
Mithrandir had looked so serious, so very grave that Elrond's resolve had begun to weaken and when the Peredhel Lord thought back on the great friendship he'd once shared with the blonde King it had crumbled altogether.
And so now here he was; in a few scant yards they'd be at the Forest Gate and Elrond still had not the slightest inkling what exactly he was needed for, with Mithrandir having remained stubbornly and infuriatingly tightlipped about the situation for the entirety of the trip.
Elrond glanced over at his grey clad companion. "I suppose you still won't disclose exactly why I am needed here? I really would prefer not to go into this blind."
"You will see exactly what needs to be done when we arrive Elrond. And worry not, I promise you that you are doing the right thing."
Elrond huffed in agitation; Mithrandir's words were of little comfort to him. Not when there were wood elves, stonefaced, wild of eye and armed to the teeth, who looked as though they would gut him as soon as speak to him, giving them a begrudging welcome into the deep green wood they protected with such ferocity.
The reluctant welcome here at the border gave Elrond little confidence he'd be more warmly received at Thranduil's palace yet it was too late to turn back now. As much as it irked him he had no choice but to trust in Mithrandir's assurance that he was doing the right thing.
~o~
"Mithrandir, we were not expecting you to bring a guest - especially not one quite so distinguished." The flame haired ellon, Thranduil's personal secretary, who had been summoned by the palace guard to attend them gave a dip of his head in Elrond's direction. "I apologise again Hir-nin for your lack of a proper welcome - you would have had one had we but known you were to arrive."
This last was directed with more than a hint of bitterness toward the grey wizard.
Mithrandir was unmoved and flapped a hand as though the secretary's complaints were a mere fruit fly that he waved away. "Come, come Bôr, it matters not anymore - we are here now and I ask that you fetch Thranduil for us. Or take us to him - either will be fine."
Bôr's face did something pinched and complicated before it slid back into its professional mask. "I am afraid Aran-nin is unable to attend you just now."
"I expect he will want to see us even if he is in with others at the moment - do be kind and see to it that he knows we are here - as I say, I'm sure you shall find he summons us in more quickly than you expect."
The secretary shook his head, "Aran-nin has no other visitors and he will take no visitors - not at present - he will not even see me." Bôr's face slipped into a frown for a moment before he again corrected and faced them with a forced smile. "I will however fetch someone who I should think will be very keen to see you both and I shall also fetch you some tea and refreshments whilst you wait."
"Bôr, Bôr! Wait - what do you mean -"
But it was too late; the secretary with a slight dip of his head had already disappeared from the room in one elegant movement that suggested to Elrond ease of long practice in doing the same to a great many other unwanted or perhaps fussy guests.
The Peredhel Lord looked to his grey companion and let a little of his consternation at the situation show upon his face. "Will you still tell me nothing Mithrandir?"
"I will tell you what I have told you before - that you made the right choice in coming here - that much is plain to me now more than ever."
The timely arrival of servants bearing trays laden with sandwiches, small cakes, tartlets and a large pot of fragrant, freshly brewed tea was all that stopped Elrond from saying something very unfortunate to the wizard. They sat in stony silence as the servants laid out their refreshments then retreated.
Elrond, determined to simply ignore the wizard - lest he truly lose all patience with him - poured himself a cup of tea and had just served himself a few of the delicate sandwiches when there was a quick rap at the door before it opened to reveal, rather mystifyingly, Calelon.
Elrond had met the royal healer before - rather unfortunately on the fields of the battle Dagorlad - and it pleased the Peredhel Lord to at last have an occasion to meet the other in a more peaceful and infinitely less frantic setting. He stood to greet his fellow healer but alas for him Mithrandir, with his lack of social niceties and decorum, beat him to it.
"Calelon, what has happened? I come bearing the one thing Thranduil and indeed even you have worried over for so long and yet I am put to sit here - like some unwanted visiting politician - with tea and cakes!"
"Peace Mithrandir. We are very glad to see you have arrived - especially if you have brought what you have promised."
"I have indeed!" And Mithrandir pointed fiercely toward Elrond.
Elrond turned hopeful eyes to Calelon. "I don't suppose mellon that you would be good enough to explain why exactly I am here and what need Thranduil has of me? I am afraid that Mithrandir has been most unforthcoming."
The Peredhel watched with mounting trepidation as both Mithrandir and Calelon seemed to hold some deep and urgent conversation with their eyes alone before the royal healer directed his attention once more to Elrond. "I'm afraid that I shall have to be as vague as Mithrandir - the story is not mine to tell you see - but I am most glad you have come and do hope you shall be able to help."
Elrond smiled benignly and bit down on one of the tiny finger sandwiches and swallowed it along with the angry words and demands he wanted to make - particularly of Mithrandir.
He did not like this situation, this not knowing; but it seemed at least that Mithrandir had been right in the wood elves wanting his help. Reaching for the patience that the Eldar were supposed to be known for, Elrond determined to hold to peace just a little while longer as he waited to see how his mysterious visit would further unfold.
~o~
Thranduil was having a fairly lucid and thus far pain free morning.
Those had happened on occasion since Calelon had ordered him into taking the stronger painkillers. In these moments he was aware and functional enough to manage small tasks, and though his mind still retained a fog around the edges it wasn't the complete confusion and unassailable lethargy that plagued him more often than not.
Up until that very morning Thranduil had spent his few lucid moments laid in bed - his thoughts the only thing he paid heed to; his emotions ranging from apoplectic anger to deepest despair. Today however – after days of incessant worrying and nagging from both his Regent Arahaelon and his Crown Commander and best friend Aglardaer – the Elven King was in his study labouring over a few letters he'd commandeered from Rithel's towering pile of paperwork. He'd tired of seeing Arahaelon's and Aglardaer's hang-dog expressions during his every lucid moment and had thought to finally shut them up by dragging himself out of bed and into his study to do what work he was able to for as long as wakefulness and painlessness was granted him.
It was slow going; the blonde King had to concentrate quite closely on the missives before him and thus absorbed in his work he failed to hear the footsteps approaching his study until a sharp knock at the door startled him into looking up from his paperwork.
"Yes, come." Thranduil set down his quill and gave a roll of his shoulders – it was high time for him to have a break he supposed – the lethargy that came with his painkiller was slowly but steadily creeping up on him.
It was Calelon who opened the door and stood just within the threshold. "Suilad Aran-nin. I have a long awaited guest for you."
The healer stood back to reveal none other than Mithrandir.
"Ho Oropherion! You're looking well and I am glad to see it – I had worried."
Thranduil rolled his eyes, "You worry yourself for naught. I am here enjoying what little bit of coherency Calelon's new painkillers allow me."
The words came out more bitter than intended and Mithrandir gave him a knowing look. "Yes, well you needn't worry – I have not been idle in my time away. I have brought your promised solution."
Thranduil arched an expectant brow and Mithrandir stepped fully within his study and pulled another in behind him.
The other was Elrond and Thranduil simply stared for a long moment, wondering if he'd overestimated just how lucid he actually was. Surely the Lord of Imladris was not truly standing right here before him?
"Mae govannen Aran Thranduil. It has been some time since we last saw each other. I am glad to see you are well."
Thranduil blinked. Hard.
Yet Elrond was still there – speaking words of polite greeting with a small smile upon his face.
Thranduil felt as though he could not breathe. Here he'd trusted Mithrandir with something that he'd found difficult to disclose to even his nearest and dearest, a weakness that made him feel profoundly vulnerable; yet Mithrandir had easily betrayed his trust, confiding Thranduil's closely held secrets to Elrond, uppity Lord of the Noldor, of all people.
Shock slowly gave way to anger.
"What is the meaning of this Mithrandir?" Thranduil snapped. "You would betray my trust? And to Elrond all elves?"
"I have betrayed nothing Oropherion, do not be absurd." Mithrandir raised his head to stare down his nose at Thranduil. "And do not be rude; Elrond is here at my behest and has travelled a great long way to help you, the least you can do is be grateful. He is the solution I promised."
Confusion, hurt and panic warred for control within Thranduil but outwardly his gaze hardened. "I do not know what game you play Mithrandir but it is in very poor taste. I shall summon the guards to see you and your guest out of my palace and out of my Woods."
"May Elbereth herself save me from the stubbornness of elves and their foolish Kings! Calelon and I shall take our leave; I suggest when we do you speak with Elrond and make clear his purpose - for I have not betrayed you. The story remains yours to share so I suggest you tell it."
Thranduil stood abruptly in umbrage and his chair shot back, his anger lending him renewed energy. "I will not say it again Mithrandir; you, Calelon, Elrond - get out! Now!"
Mithrandir shook his head as though greatly disappointed whilst Calelon quietly and gently led Elrond away and let the door to the study fall softly shut behind them.
Alone once more Thranduil took a deep breath in a vain attempt at steadying himself even as he sank down weakly into his chair. The confrontation had shaken him; never in a hundred Yéni had he expected the grey wizard to produce Elrond as his much vaunted solution to Thranduil's long-term pain management.
Yes, the Peredhel Lord was a great and experienced healer - but would even he have the power and the knowledge to overcome the accursed burn of dragon fire?
Thranduil clasped his shaking hands together; he felt trapped - whether or not Mithrandir had said anything to Elrond of his injuries and newfound disability the Peredhel now knew something was wrong with him.
The Elven King sighed at the thought of having to disclose his vulnerabilities to yet another person - and this time someone he was not even close to.
It was all really becoming too much.
~o~
"I really am sorry Hir Elrond and I must beg your forgiveness as well as asking you to pardon Aran-nin. He has been under much stress and has been through quite an ordeal recently though of course that is no excuse for rudeness."
"It is fine Calelon, do not trouble yourself over it any further - I am not offended - truly."
And it was the truth, Elrond was not affronted in the least over Thranduil's show of pique. The Elven King had behaved exactly as the Lord of Imladris had expected him to when confronted with an unexpected and unwelcome visitor - particularly one he had been giving the silent treatment for the past century. Nay, it was Mithrandir that Elrond was truly upset with. He couldn't figure out for the life of him why the grey wizard seemed to think Thranduil needed any help whatsoever - he was in his usual fine (angry) form and had no injuries that Elrond had been able to see.
Then there was all that talk of trust being betrayed and some story Mithrandir wanted Thranduil to tell him. Truly, Elrond was simply confused and more than a little angered that his trip here was shaping up to be a wasted one. Alas for following along with the whims of wizards.
"Please allow me to personally escort you to your rooms. It is the least I can do." Calelon was offering a tentative smile and the option for Elrond to be on his own for a little while.
Elrond nodded his acquiescence and turned to follow the royal healer when a surprisingly strong arm gripped his. Mithrandir.
"Elrond, wait - please, I implore you."
Elrond turned to face the wizard aggrieved. "What is it Mithrandir? Have you not led me on enough of a wild goose chase for one day? It is clear that Aran Thranduil does not wish to see me and beyond all that I am exhausted. Twas quite the long trip. I would be grateful if you'd simply let Calelon show me where I might rest and refresh myself. We can speak on the morrow before I depart."
"Depart? You cannot leave just yet Elrond, not when you haven't even spoken to Thranduil properly. Believe me when I tell you he needs your help. Please stay and I will speak to him myself, counsel him to meet with you - only do not leave just yet."
Elrond wanted to refuse, wanted to leave the grey wizard to his machinations but the healer in him would not allow him to leave without first ascertaining that there was nothing he could assist with, no one for him to heal. Mithrandir seemed to think there was something he could help Thranduil with and Calelon seemed to think the same.
With a put upon sigh Elrond nodded. "Very well Mithrandir - I will remain for a week and a week only and if after that Thranduil will still not see me then I shall be on my way. I cannot abandon my realm indefinitely and I can give this venture of yours no more time than that."
~o~
"Do you need aught else before I leave you to retire for the night Aran-nin?"
Calelon had just given Thranduil his nightly dose of painkiller and was preparing to leave him to another bleak, drugged night of broken sleep and bad dreams.
Thranduil clenched his hands tightly into the bed sheets that covered him; it had been another two miserable days spent idly as his mind had spun between depression, lethargic wakefulness and drug induced oblivion.
He could not go on like this. Could not spend so much of his time drugged and useless, making no further progress towards getting better - towards getting back on his throne. If Mithrandir was so sure that Elrond held the key to the problem that was his long-term pain management, then perhaps Thranduil ought to investigate the possibility for himself.
"Only one thing more Calelon - might you be kind enough to advise me what suite Elrond has been put up in?"
The royal healer gave him a look that the blonde King steadfastly ignored.
"Of course Aran-nin, Hir Elrond is staying not too far from here - he is staying in the twelfth room in the nobles' quarters. I can summon him if you would like?"
"Nay," Thranduil refused the offer immediately. "I only wished to know where he was staying; that will be all, thank you - you may take your leave now Calelon."
Calelon shot his King another of those all too knowing looks before he bowed, bid him a good night and left with a near silent swish of his healer's robes.
Thranduil waited a good long moment until he could be sure that the royal healer had well and truly left the vicinity before he swung himself out of bed and pulled on his nearest robe. He didn't have a lot of time before the painkiller would drag him under into dark sleep.
Swiftly, Thranduil made his way across his bedchamber and drew aside a long tapestry to reveal an entrance into the secret passageways that wound through the palace stronghold like a maze.
He wanted no one to stop him nor ask any nosy questions and this way, though likely to give Elrond a fright when Thranduil appeared in his rooms so suddenly and unannounced, was the best way to ensure the King was accosted by none of the many well-meaning meddlers in his life.
Thranduil moved with purpose down the dimly lit passageway. He would find out for himself exactly why Mithrandir supposed Elrond was the answer to his on-going pain problem.
~o~
Elrond sat comfortably in a deep well-padded leather armchair, feet propped up on the accompanying ottoman with a glass of rich Dorwinian in one hand and a book on Silvan healing herbs in the other. The low fire that burnt quietly and cheerfully before him added a welcome warmth to the slight chill that had come with the early autumn evening.
His past two days here had been a strange yet restful mix of spending time with the royal healer Calelon - catching up on and swapping the latest techniques they had discovered within their own infirmaries - as well as wandering Thranduil's sprawling stronghold.
He'd spent time admiring the architecture, tapestries and paintings as well as whiling away several hours in the King's vast libraries, aware all the while of being stared at and studied in turn by the curious wood elves. They did not approach him however and Elrond surmised that Thranduil's previous threat to have him removed from the Wood had been an idle one.
It had indeed been a pleasant two days thus far but for all that the Peredhel Lord was keenly aware of his responsibilities toward his own realm. However, he had promised Mithrandir he'd spend a full week here before returning to his duties and so Elrond relaxed - a little alcohol and a good book before bed would do him well.
He was just marvelling over a rather peculiar use the wood elves had found for valerian root when a deep voice calling his name caused him to startle and drop the book in surprise.
Elrond looked up to see none other than Thranduil standing a mere foot or two away, leaning up against the marvellously carved mantelpiece of the fireplace.
"Thranduil! What in the name of all the Valar are you doing?" Shock at the other's sudden presence had removed all thoughts of titles, proper greetings and indeed good manners from the Peredhel Lord's mind.
"Visiting with you - I should have thought that obvious Elrond."
Thranduil was smirking ever so slightly and the Lord of Imladris sat up properly and glared at him.
"When one visits another it is traditional - at least in the civilised world - to knock on the other's door and await permission to enter.
Thranduil's grin broadened at the slight. "This is my palace, can I not enter where I please?"
"It may well be your palace but when you have given rooms to others to stay in, the least you can do is give them the common courtesy of knocking."
The blonde's grin was sharp and feral now. "Oh my dear Elrond, that's just it, isn't it? I didn't give you these rooms for I did not invite you. Rather you decided to show up here unannounced and uninvited - tell me then whose manners are worse?"
Elrond huffed; he had no intention of being Thranduil's entertainment for the night and instead posed his original question again - though this time with far more decorum. "How may I help you Aran Thranduil?"
"Oh do not bother to 'Aran' me now Elrond. I have already seen beneath that pretty polished Noldor mask of yours - there is no need to pretend. As to your question… well, I have come to see whether or not Mithrandir had good reason for bringing you here or whether he is simply meddling again. I myself much suspect it to be the latter."
Elrond shrugged. "Well I'm afraid you will be sorely disappointed Thranduil if you have come seeking me for answers to Mithrandir's little mystery. I myself have no idea what it is that he hopes I will accomplish here. He has told me only that you need my help." The Peredhel paused and pointedly looked the Elven King up and down, "Though I cannot say that you look as though you need any and you have been your usual cheery self so far as I can see."
Thranduil snorted at the small dig at his expense before he delicately seated himself in the other armchair opposite Elrond. "Do you truly not know why he asked you here? Did he really tell you nothing at all?"
"Only that the story is yours, not his, to tell." Elrond arched a brow, "so what do you have to tell me?"
All the snark and sass went out of Thranduil who seemed almost to deflate as he wrapped his arms around himself. "Can I trust you?"
"What?"
"Can I trust you? Tis a simple yes or no question, Elrond."
The Lord of Imladris huffed in umbrage, "And it is one that I am insulted you should ask. Speak freely or not at all, you are welcome to your secrets but do not assume that I would betray you so easily."
"I have heard it said that the Noldor have loose lips."
Elrond gave the other a dark look. "If you have come only to antagonise me and speak ill of my people then I bid you leave, for I was having a perfectly lovely evening and do not wish to spoil it."
"I sincerely wish I had only come to trade insults with you, but alas I have indeed come on a serious matter - a matter that must be kept confidential." Thranduil took a deep breath and wrapped his arms even more tightly about himself. "Can you do that Elrond? Can you promise me that what we speak of in this room you will repeat to no other?"
The blonde's face was grave - creased in worried anxiety. Elrond sat even straighter and put his wine glass down on the table between them.
"If it eases you - though it still insults me - then yes Thranduil, I give you my word that I shall not repeat a single thing you tell me here to another living soul."
The King didn't react in any visible way to the promise, only shifted to unwrap his arms from about his torso to instead press his hands so tightly together that his knuckles appeared a bloodless white.
It was the most that Elrond had ever seen Thranduil fidget in his life; the other was usually so stoic, so calm - to the point of seeming cold and uncaring. But now, now he clenched his hands together as though in prayer, tapped his foot in an irritated rhythm and his eyes darted about the room as though he could not bear to look Elrond in the face.
Thranduil was nervous, he realised with a start.
Elrond allowed his realisation to gentle his tone when he spoke next. "I promise Thranduil, my lips are fully sealed. And I also promise to do my utmost to help you - if you indeed need my help - but first, you must explain to me…why am I here?"
"Tis a long, tangled and dreadful tale."
"Well," Elrond smiled, "I'm not exactly doing anything right now - I have all night if need be."
Thranduil harrumphed. "Well I do not. The accursed medicine that Calelon forces down my throat every night will soon drag me into oblivion."
"Medicine?" Elrond's interest was immediate and total.
"Aye, our dearest meddling wizard has not led you astray… for I have been gravely wounded… dragon fire….you will excuse me if I do not get bogged down into the entire sorry affair just now but instead skip to the parts pertaining to you."
"Of course." Elrond acquiesced easily. He could see just how much trouble Thranduil was having in confiding in him - the blonde having added chewing on his lower lip to the list of nervous tics Elrond had previously made note of.
However when the Elven King made no further move to say anything more the Peredhel Lord prodded him gently. "You say you were injured by dragon fire? We had heard that there were some fire serpents moving about but then they flew away, far beyond where our scouts operate and we saw and heard nothing more of them."
"Yes, well, you have the Woodland Army to thank for that - we routed them all apart from one wyrm which managed to make good its escape. It was not without cost though… I lost many elves and as I said before, took grave injury myself."
"Mmm, and I suppose Mithrandir wants me to help with the healing of this injury - correct?"
"Nay, my wounds are healed - or are as healed as they shall ever be - it is something else…something darker…there is an evil left behind in the wounds caused by dragon fire and it is this that plagues me…the reason for my continued dependence on opioid medicine…the reason I have yet to fully recover…"
Personally, Elrond thought that Thranduil looked quite well for one who had had a brush with dragon fire, but he said nothing and listened intently to the blonde as he continued.
"It is a pain that burns and makes one recall and relive the moment they were first branded by the accursed flames of the fire serpents. The pain relief we have used thus far can only be a temporary fix - already I have become immune to the first concoction Calelon made for me. I am on something far stronger now - it puts me to sleep more often than not and when I am awake I am slow and dotish…I hate it. But I do not see how you can help with this…I mean no offense Elrond but Calelon is just as good as you and he has tried everything in the book to no avail…and yet… and yet Mithrandir seems to think you are the answer."
Thranduil shook his head slowly and loosened his hands for a moment only to clench them into tight fists instead. "I…I will show you…the worst of my injuries, so you might fully understand and then…then perhaps you can tell me if you are truly the answer Mithrandir seems so certain of."
"Very well." Elrond gave a nod, "show me."
Thranduil took in another deep breath and then did…well he did something; what exactly that something was Elrond had no idea. But the effects of that something became immediately clear as half of Thranduil's face seemed to melt away into nothingness leaving a raw, scarred visage behind.
Elrond was hard pressed not to gasp at the sight revealed to him. He got up from his chair and studied the blonde before him in silence for a long moment. Slowly he raised a hand to touch Thranduil lightly on the cheek just underneath the worst of the scarring and burnt tissue. He gently directed the blonde to tilt his head just slightly so that the Peredhel Lord was able to take in the cloudy, blinded eye fully.
"I see," he hummed contemplatively.
"Hn," Thranduil made a non-committal noise and drew back sharply from his touch. Not even a second later the blonde's face was once again as Elrond expected it to be - a study in elven beauty.
"That is powerful magic - you are talented indeed to be able to hide such a grievous injury."
"It is necessary," Thranduil grunted. His fists were still clenched so tightly that the entirety of his hands now appeared white and bloodless. "One cannot profess to be the Elven King and walk around with a face like an orc."
"Hardly an orc Thranduil," but Elrond said nothing more on the topic; he knew the other was a vain ellon and he could not imagine how much of a blow it must have been to the blonde to have been dealt such extensive wounds and scarring to his face of all places.
"Your recovery has been going well I take it?" Elrond continued to study the Elven King. "For it is not at all obvious that you are half blinded and this glamour of yours - you wield it to perfection."
"Yes it is going well… or at least it was going well…but now the pain hinders me to the point where I am having to take such strong medication that I am no longer able to make any progress toward my full recovery."
Thranduil sounded despairing but Elrond's lips lifted in the very faintest of smiles. Suddenly he could see quite clearly why Mithrandir thought he could be of help to the blonde. He would not be able to do anything for the other's looks or the fact that he was now blinded in one eye but with the help of his closely guarded secret - his ring - Elrond would be able to drive the lingering evil from the wounds and free Thranduil from the pain that was causing him so much grief and holding him back from total recovery.
Elrond moved toward the Elven King once more with purpose. "I understand now why Mithrandir wanted me to come. I cannot help with the physical aspects of your injuries - the scarring and the blindness - even the best healer can do nothing about those. However, I can aid you in getting rid of the pain caused by dragon fire."
Elrond lifted his hand towards Thranduil's face but stopped just before he made skin contact. Vilya, now made visible, glinted in the firelight. "I have the answer you seek - will you accept it? And what is more will you keep this secret of mine," Elrond waggled his fingers meaningfully, "as I shall keep yours?"
"Aye, gladly! No word of what you have shown me or indeed of what has passed in this room shall ever be heard from me. Now, if you can rid me of this pain then please do so."
Satisfied, the Peredhel healer laid his hand against Thranduil's cheek - right across the area that he now knew bore the most damage. Slowly, he began to call up and draw on the power of Vilya. The ring he'd been entrusted with had many powers but the one Elrond most cherished and the one that was necessary right now was its power to heal. Softly under his breath he commanded the healing power within the ring to draw out the pain from the burns inflicted on the Elven King.
He could feel a subtle pushback from the evil in the wounds but Elrond only firmed his resolve and called upon a bit more power to banish the lingering devilry. Softly he chanted and felt it as Thranduil grew slack and relaxed under his hand until at last the blonde slipped in to a healing sleep.
~o~
Thranduil had no idea what it was that Elrond planned to do but at this point he was willing to try almost anything. He was tired of medicines and tired of pain, he was tired of being tired - he wanted to recover and take command of his life and his kingdom once more.
The Peredhel's hand was cool and smooth against his cheek. Elrond began to chant softly under his breath and Thranduil felt something wintry cold yet calming begin to seep into him. Strangely, the sensation could only be felt where the dragon fire had caught him, where he'd been burnt; it flowed as a gentle trickle at first - a summer stream before it began to grow into wide gushing river.
And with each moment that passed the Elven King felt himself growing more and more relaxed edging nearer and nearer towards sleep. And yet it was not the brand of medicine induced lethargy that he had become used to - but rather it felt more as though he was slipping into a healing trance - being nudged onto pleasant dream paths.
He felt far too relaxed to fight against it, to try and stay awake and so Thranduil decided to trust that Elrond had his best interests in mind and gave himself fully to the sensation.
He slipped off into sleep with the softly spoken words of Elrond lingering in his ears…
"When you waken, the sting and pain of dragon fire shall trouble you no more."
TBC.
Anor – Sun
Annin - Literally: For me – Sindarin version of Please
Mellon-nin / Mellon - My friend / Friend
Tharan-min – Vigourous One – a childhood nickname for Thranduil
Sîdh – Peace
Hir / Hir-nin – Lord / My Lord
Aran-nin / Aran - My King / King
Ormenel - Heavens-day
Oraearon - Sea-day
Orbelain - Powers-day (a "High Day" of celebration/ceremony, like our Sunday)
Ellon – Male elf
Nestryn – (plural) Healers
Hannon-le – Thank you
Maethyr – (plural) Warriors
Hîn – Children
Peredhel – Half Elven (sing.)
Eldar – Elves
Suilad – Greetings
Mae Govannen – Well met