Thranduil stared with disappointment at his breakfast tray. The attack of three nights past, which the people now called the Battle of the Unseen Enemy, had fortunately spared most of the kingdom's resources. His tray was, as usual, laden with the fruits of the season and the normal porridge. He still found some amusement in how much fuss some of his servants made that a king would eat such commoners' food. They should have realized by now that he had not always been a king. Porridge was frequent in his childhood as a citizen of Menegroth. When his family had fled from the sack of Doriath and traveled long through the wilderness, it was a treat. During his days of training with his father's warriors, the daily meal of porridge was a treasured time of fellowship.
No, it was not the contents of his tray that disappointed him; rather, there was something missing. He sighed in frustration.
"Is something wrong, sire?" Maethon asked from where he waited on the king close by, barely hiding his unease that he had possibly presented the meal incorrectly. He was still somewhat shaken by the events of the attack, himself, and knew it made him more susceptible to making mistakes.
"No," Thranduil assured him halfheartedly. "I will visit Soronume's family before the council meets."
"Very good, sire." It took all of Maethon's self-control to keep the grin off his face. His friend was due for a pleasant surprise.
~.~.~
Elluin sat close to her mother, her eyes not leaving the fabric she held tightly in her fingers. They were stitching opposite sides of a dress commissioned by one of the ladies of the royal court, Elluin securing the hem with simple stitches while Linalda embellished with delicate patterns. The older elleth had just been brought home from the healing rooms and was delighted to resume her embroidery work, though she leaned more heavily against the back of her chair than she usually did.
"Relax your hold," Linalda reminded her daughter without raising her eyes.
Elluin obeyed with difficulty, forcing in a deep breath to calm herself. She stilled her needle and looked forlornly out of the window.
"Three more days, Elluin" Soronume said with poorly hidden amusement from where he stood chiseling at a log on the table, "then you can go back to the palace."
Suddenly, Elluin's eyes widened. "The king is coming," she said.
Linalda's head snapped up in surprise. Soronume stopped his work to look out the window, as well. The royal robes and silvery blond hair of the king were unmistakable. Maethon and a guard trailed behind on the path leading straight to their cottage.
"Breathe, daughter," Linalda said with a smile, laying aside the dress. "Help me rise."
The anticipated knock on the door still made Elluin jump. Soronume walked over to open the door as Elluin carefully assisted her mother.
"Sire, good morning and welcome," Soronume said, stepping aside with a bow to invite the king inside. From over his shoulder, Elluin spotted a grinning Maethon waiting some distance back with the guard.
"Good morning," Thranduil responded as he stepped inside, making the room seem to shrink. He cast his eyes on the ellith as they echoed the greeting and curtsied, Linalda a little stiffly and holding tightly to Elluin's supporting arm. He smiled softly at them before turning back to the ellon. "I came to thank you, Soronume, for your assistance in the defense of the kingdom. Your sword was a welcome addition to our forces."
"It was my duty to my family and the realm, my king," he replied. "I offer the same if ever the need arises. Outside of those times, I believe I serve the kingdom best as a carpenter."
"I find I agree," Thranduil said, glancing in appreciation at the ornately carved wooden mugs, intricate toys, and elegant cooking tools lining the shelves nearby. "There was a chest replaced in my quarters recently. Your creation, I trust?"
"Yes, my king."
"A work of art."
Soronume inclined his head at the compliment as the king turned to the others. His expression turned more serious.
"Ladies, may I inquire after your health?"
"We are mending, thank you, sire," Linalda said. "It will be another few weeks before I can move around as before, but I am well cared for."
"I will return to service in three days, my king," Elluin added, bidding her heart to slow its rhythm. Seeing the king's face again brought her joy and relief to a degree even she was not expecting. "The healers said there would no longer be a risk of inhibiting my complete recovery. Before I left the healing rooms, Lord Galion came to see me and forbade me from setting foot on palace grounds until then."
Thranduil smiled. "I am glad my steward shares my concern for your welfare, though I would not have banished you from the palace. Your mother will not have need of you?"
"No, my king," Linalda broke in with a brief smile toward her husband. "Though even if I did, I would not keep her. She has been eager to return."
"I am afraid I do not share my mother's patience for needlework," Elluin admitted with a smirk. "Will the king take refreshment?"
"Regrettably, I am already expected at a council meeting, but I thank you," Thranduil answered, already turning to the door.
"You honor us with your visit, sire," Soronume said, holding the door open. "Perhaps next time the king will share a meal with us?"
"Perhaps," came the optimistic reply. "I bid you good day."
After their chorus of farewells and bows, Thranduil's eyes rested for a brief moment on Elluin before he began his pace back up the path, quickly flanked by Maethon and the guard. Soronume slowly shut the door and walked back to his log and chisel as Elluin helped Linalda back into her chair. Elluin landed back into her own with a huff, shaking her head in disbelief.
Linalda chuckled. "A royal visit! I should not look too much into it, but I believe we have been shown special favor. What do you think, my love?"
Soronume hummed in agreement, though he kept his eyes on his task. "Do you know, I have not heard of the king visiting anyone in the villages outside of official appearances."
"Do not torture me with hope," Elluin said soberly. "We are Sindar, and relatively new to the realm. Perhaps the king feels a kin obligation towards our family."
"Perhaps," Linalda conceded. A small smile played on her lips. "Perhaps not."
~.~.~
The council meeting dragged on. Matters were much too philosophical for Thranduil's taste, for no answer could be gained by the debate. Yesterday's meeting, after his visit to Elluin and her family, was more productive. They had focused more on taking short-term measures for protection and provision and they had adjourned satisfied that the realm was temporarily secure. This morning, the council members focused more on analyzing the reports brought back from scouts yesterday evening that indicated no traces of Orcs within the forest, and none spotted by the Anduin.
For longer than necessary, the Elven advisors discussed the report that the party of Dwarves had been steadily marching toward the palace on the Old Forest Road. Thranduil found the idea that they would seek out the Elves unlikely. His hope was that they were simply passing through, and he wanted them out as quickly as possible. Decisive inaction was one thing, but hearing the council members toss inconsequential ideas around was trying his patience. He was quickly losing hope that any conclusion could be drawn, let alone any plans made. At a swift word from the Elvenking, that particular topic was abruptly abandoned.
Thranduil realized that his mood had been sour even before the council meeting. He had taken a tour of the healing rooms to visit his injured soldiers at dawn, and two of them would not recover. As usual, he managed to say the right words to their families when he went to them, this time unaccompanied. It had taken him a while before he could face anyone else after parting with them. And he had burned his tongue on his tea earlier that morning. And there had been no flower on his breakfast tray. Now the noon hour had come and gone and no steps had been taken to improving the realm or helping the people.
He tried to focus on what Lord Derion was saying, undeterred by the king's demeanor. This advisor was relatively young but had gained some wisdom from his parents, who had both served as council members to Oropher before leaving for the West after the War of the Last Alliance. Derion compensated for what he lacked in wisdom and experience with a fierce love for the people and a willingness to serve in any capacity. But, at the moment, Thranduil was hard pressed to appreciate these gifts.
"Now, we have taken an account of our losses," Derion was saying. "The attack was focused near the palace, but most of the victims were ordinary citizens living in the nearby cottages. And even if the king had not lifted the spell of concealment, the force that remained hidden could never have maintained possession of the palace for long. What could the enemy have wanted to gain from this unsuccessful endeavor?"
"In the eyes of our enemy, success has been attained," Thranduil said coolly. Only the advisors that knew him the longest could hear the edge of barely-contained frustration in the king's voice. They cast wary glances at him as he continued. "Their leader, the human sorcerer, said as much when questioned. The guards report that he has stopped refusing food — it seems he is relishing some kind of victory."
"The same amount of damage could have been done were the army not concealed, sire," Derion continued, unaware of the king's mood, "if they had attacked a less protected area of the realm. Were they probing our defenses? Did they wish us to divert protection from our borders to the palace? Do they wish to continue depleting our numbers with later attacks?"
Berenil surprised them by speaking. His expression and posture revealed unfathomable sorrow but his eyes were dry, having no more tears left to shed after the death of his wife in the attack. Despite Thranduil's gentle urging that he take more time for recovery, the older ellon insisted on taking part in the council. "Let us search for further information," the advisor said wearily, "and leave this matter for later speculation. At this moment, our thoughts should be with the people — specifically, their employment."
"This is true," said Lady Raegdis, eager to change the topic to avoid pushing Thranduil to his breaking point. "I have taken account, sire. Many craftsmen were among the dead, along with some of their apprentices. We shall soon have need of a blacksmith and leather worker. Their workshops stand empty. Who shall we —"
They were interrupted with a knock on the door and Captain Telior entered with a salute. His face betrayed uncertainty. He spoke at Thranduil's nod.
"Sire, the Dwarves are scouting out the path to the palace." Surprised looks passed around the council room as the captain continued. "We have let them pass unhailed thus far, as the king commanded, but it seems they wish to come here."
"Seize them as soon as they set foot on the palace grounds," Thranduil ordered swiftly, his mood darkening further. "Make these intentions known to them so they have the chance to turn back."
"Yes, sire."
"My king," said Berenil, "you know as well as I that, as they are Dwarves, they are not likely to change their course."
"In that case, the council is adjourned," Thranduil sighed. "Once the Dwarves' weapons are confiscated, I will receive them in the throne room."