Title: Through the Eyes of a Child

Author: Morgana
Author’s Email: morganalebeau@yahoo.com
Web page: http://www.paranoid.nl/avalon

Main paring; Thranduil/Lindir.

Side pairings: Elrohir/Legolas, Dûrel/Elrond, Elladan/Glorfindel and Erestor/Ereinion.
Haldir/Melpomaen mentioned.

Overall rating: NC-17
Summary: Now that Dûrel has become the new High-King of the Firstborn, peace returns to
Imladris. But for some there is no peace yet. Thranduil, accompanied by Lindir, travels
home and deals with memories he never felt strong enough to face before.

Disclaimer: Not mine, Tolkien’s.
Warnings: mention/memories of severe child abuse. Thranduil witnesses murder and
violence. This story is completely AU, of course.

Author’s Note: this is the sequel to Inside the Dark Forest the Secret Lies.

Beta reading, translations and research by Patricia Pleasant, thanks! I couldn’t have
written this story without your help!

All remaining mistakes are mine.

 

Through the Eyes of a Child

Part 2

 

 

Arwen, Elrond and Dûrel had already gone back inside again, leaving Elladan searching the
horizon. It was the strangest sensation – being without Elrohir for the first time in his
life. Oh, they had been apart before, for a few days, but never before had their
separation had such a serious character. He wouldn’t see his brother for six months! How
in Elbereth’s name would he cope with that? He would drive himself insane, constantly
being reminded of the fact that his twin wasn’t around.

 

“Your father asked me to train a horse as a gift for Dûrel. You have a way with horses,
Elladan. Maybe you would like to help me?” Glorfindel had seen the lonely expression in
Elladan’s eyes and hoped the twin would accept his proposal. Training the horse would
distract Elladan and keep him busy. In a fatherly fashion, he placed an arm around
Elladan’s shoulder and then gave him a brilliant smile.

 

Elladan smiled back. He had never been able to deny Glorfindel when the blond Elf looked
at him like that! Glorfindel had always been his hero and spending time with him and the
horses sounded like an excellent idea. “I would like that.”

 

“All right!” Glorfindel’s blue eyes twinkled. “All we have to do now is to find the horse
your grand-father sent for our new High-King!”

 

“I still find it hard to think of Erestor in that way,” admitted Elladan. “To me, he will
always be Erestor.”

 

“Give it time,” suggested Glorfindel, leading Elladan away from the courtyard and toward
the stables. “He loves you dearly and I doubt it makes much of a difference to him what
you call him – Erestor or Dûrel.”

 

“You are right,” replied Elladan, smiling now that the horses had come into sight. “What
horse did my grand-father chose for our High-King?”

 

“That one…”

 

Elladan’s gaze followed the direction Glorfindel pointed in and a sigh of admiration
escaped him. “He is beautiful. Celeborn chose well.” The grey stallion held his head
high, pride showed in his eyes and he danced rather than walked toward them. There was
elegance in the movements and strength in the legs. Intelligence showed in the way his
ears moved. “Has he already revealed his name to you?”

 

Glorfindel shook his head. “He only arrived yesterday and you know what your grandfather
is like.”

 

“Aye, Celeborn probably told you to find out yourself!” Elladan chuckled.

 

Glorfindel nodded and chuckled along. The stallion had advanced on them and now looked at
them with curious eyes. Glorfindel raised his hand, allowing the noble animal to take in
his scent and then rubbed the nose. Looking at Elladan, Glorfindel found that some of the
sparkle had returned. The eyes shone with interest and when the stallion moved on to
Elladan to be petted, the grey eyes lit up further. Aye, training this horse would
distract Elladan and aid his emotional recovery. Being separated from Elrohir couldn’t be
easy on Elladan and Glorfindel was determined to do whatever he could to lessen the
emotional pain.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir stayed close to Thranduil and noticed the way the Woodland King constantly looked
over his shoulder to make certain that the assassins were still bound and helpless.
Something about the expression in the emerald eyes greatly worried Lindir and his
conversation with Elrond returned to him. Thranduil was hiding things from him and it was
his mission to make the other Elf open up to him. /But not whilst we are still on the
road. He won’t confide in me right now, for he believes that we are still in danger./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Won’t we stop for the night?” asked Lindir.

 

Legolas, who rode the closest to the minstrel, shook his head. “We will travel nonstop.
We will only stop when the horses need to rest. You must understand that they are
dangerous and only waiting for a chance to escape.” Legolas’ gaze sought out the
assassins, who were silent, but their eyes were engaged in silent communication. “My
father won’t undergo any rest until they have been dealt with.”

 

“What are his plans for them? Do you know?” Lindir exchanged a look with Elrohir, who had
steered his gelding closer to them. The twin seemed curious as well.

 

Legolas’ eyes turned worried and hooded. “I think I do.”

 

“Will you tell us?” Elrohir noticed the reluctance in his lover’s voice and wondered what
had upset Legolas.

 

“There is a labyrinth beneath the caves. Oropher used it to train his guards -- make them
lose their orientation and see if they could hold their own. It is a grueling experience,
walking that maze.”

 

“Did you? Walk it?” Elrohir thought he heard disgust in Legolas’ voice.

 

“You can never tell my father,” said Legolas, softly. “He would have my hide for
venturing down there.”

 

“The maze is off limits to you?” Lindir realized just how little he knew of Thranduil,
Legolas and Mirkwood in general. He had a lot to learn.

 

“It is off limits to everyone. Father won’t allow anyone to venture into the labyrinth.”

 

“Why?” Elrohir wondered if the maze wouldn’t hold some fascination for a seasoned
warrior. Thranduil should use it during the training sessions, much like Oropher had
done.

 

“It is off limits because it houses a large population of spiders. Mirkwood spiders are
very poisonous.” Legolas stared deeply into Elrohir’s eyes, hoping his lover heard his
warning – truly heard it. “Those spiders will kill you and the end will be very painful,
Elrohir. Do not ever venture into the maze.”

 

Lindir felt confused. “What has this maze to do with your father’s plans for these
murderers?”

 

Legolas cleared his throat, intercepting his father’s knowing look. Thranduil knew what
they were discussing! “We cannot slay them, Lindir. That would make us Kinslayers and too
much like them.”

 

Suddenly Elrohir understood. “You will release them into the maze and let the spiders do
the work for you!”

 

Legolas shrugged. “They have formidable skills, Oropher’s minions. They will survive for
quite some time.”

 

Thranduil decided it was time to explain his decision. “They are too dangerous to let
loose. If we make even the slightest mistake they will use it to their advantage.
Confining them to the maze is the only solution.” And it was pure justice as far as he
was concerned – especially for Saerif, who had been the one to slash his mother’s throat.
“My ruling in this matter is final.” He pushed his heels into Feruilos’ flanks and the
horse sped up, increasing the distance between him and the rest of the party.

 

“I know my father well,” said Legolas, after a moment’s thought. “He does what he
believes is best for our people and in this case, I agree with him. We cannot end their
lives, but at the same time we cannot allow them to remain among us either.”

 

Lindir and Elrohir exchanged another look. Both Elves were convinced that there was
another reason why Thranduil had chosen this particular fate for the five assassins. A
reason, which probably even Legolas didn’t know about. /I wonder what it is,/ mused
Lindir. /Hopefully he will tell me. I must find a way to make him open up to me./

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elrond had fallen into step beside his beloved and wondered how it was possible that the
Last Homely House already seemed so much emptier now that Elrohir had left. He had never
thought that his youngest son would take to living somewhere else besides Imladris.

 

Dûrel welcomed his lover’s silence. He had been worried that the moment they were alone
again Elrond would start discussing his alien anatomy. The way his extraordinary state
had been revealed already embarrassed him and if it were up to him, they wouldn’t discuss
this matter for some time. He had never thought he would have a mate, let alone the
opportunity to even think of having a child, but now that he was safe in Imladris and the
assassins taken care of, he *could* begin to ponder that possibility. The last thing he
needed, however, was Elrond pressuring him into talking about it.

 

“I already worry about him,” whispered Elrond, offering his husband an apologetic smile.
It hadn’t been his intention to ignore Dûrel. They had reached their rooms and Elrond
followed his beloved in.

 

“I am certain that Elrohir will be fine. You raised him well, Elrond. He can fend for
himself.”

 

“But there are dangerous spiders in Mirkwood. A single sting is so poisonous that it
could claim his life! What was I thinking, allowing him to go there?”

 

“You realized that your son and Legolas are in love and you did the only thing you could
do; you let him go.” Dûrel poured his lover a glass of sweet wine and offered it to him.

 

Elrond absentmindedly accepted and sipped. “But what if…?”

 

“But what if nothing goes wrong?” Dûrel moved to stand behind Elrond and took to
massaging the tense shoulders and muscles. “It is time for Elrohir to stand on his own
two feet.”

 

“It is not solely Elrohir that I am worried about,” admitted Elrond, sighing contently,
as Dûrel’s hands did an amazing job on loosening his muscles.

 

“You also worry about Elladan,” said Dûrel, nodding his head. “We will keep a close eye
on him. Maybe we can find ways to spend extra time with him?”

 

“That is a good idea.” Elrond’s worries melted away under his lover’s gentle touch.
Turning, he smiled at Dûrel. “This does not mean you are off the hook, meleth1. I still
plan on discussing last night’s revelation.”

 

“Give me time,” said Dûrel in a firm tone. “Do not pressure me into discussing this
matter.”

 

Elrond’s eyes widened at hearing the determination in his lover’s voice. At a moment like
this, Dûrel would remind him of Ereinion. The former High-King had also had a way to make
it very clear that a topic was off-limits. “I will wait for you to make the first step
then.”

 

“That is acceptable.” Dûrel smiled. “What is on your agenda for the rest of the day,
melethron2? Boring meetings? Paperwork?”

 

“Actually… nothing,” said Elrond, grinning. “Maybe you would like to spend the rest of
the day in bed?”

 

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Dûrel wiggled his eyebrow and pulled Elrond toward their
bed. Hopefully making love would make Elrond forget about his worries.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Linder wasn’t used to being on horseback for days at a row. The party of Elves traveled
nonstop and seldom paused. It was amazing that the horses managed to keep up the pace.

 

“You are growing tired,” said Thranduil, as he steered his stallion closer to Lindir’s
mare. “We will rest tonight.”

 

Lindir searched the emerald eyes, which had dulled during these last few days and Lindir
realized he wasn’t the one only growing exhausted. Thranduil was tired as well, but
Lindir reckoned it was more an emotional fatigue. “You do not have to call for a stop on
my accord. I will manage.”

 

“Nay, it is not just that. The horses need to rest as well.” Thranduil would call for a
halt once he had found a suitable spot, but there were would be no rest for him tonight.
He didn’t dare let Oropher’s assassins out of his sight! “We will rest tonight and
continue our journey tomorrow. If all goes well, we will reach Mirkwood the day after
tomorrow.”

 

“And then you will lock them up in the maze?” Thranduil flinched and Lindir wondered
about the demons of old which haunted his lover. Why hadn’t Elrond entrusted him with
more details? He simply didn’t know what ghosts he was fighting!

 

“Aye.” Thranduil had located a clearing and raised his hand, ordering the party to come
to a stop. “We will rest for the night.”

 

Legolas nodded once and ordered the escort to see to their prisoners. The five assassins
were pulled off of their horses’ back, tied to the trees and left gagged.

 

Thranduil watched his party settle down for the night. Although he wanted to pull Lindir
close and savor the minstrel’s closeness, duty came first. He was about to take up
position to guard the assassins when Legolas and Elrohir walked up to him.

 

“Ada3, we think you should rest,” stated Legolas.

 

“We?” Thranduil raised an eyebrow. Just who had Legolas been talking to?

 

“Aye, Elrohir, Lindir and I,” explained Legolas. He placed a hand on his father’s arm and
guided him away from the spot where the assassins had been tied up. “We want you to rest
– to sleep.” He exchanged a look with Lindir, who took Legolas’ place at Thranduil’s
side.

 

“Come, lie down and sleep.” Lindir had unrolled his blanket and planned on wrapping them
both up in it.

 

“I cannot do this,” whispered Thranduil, his eyes searching Lindir’s. Aye, he was tired,
but he couldn’t afford to rest. “What if they find a way to free themselves and…?”

 

“Elrohir and I will make certain that does not happen.” Legolas gave his father a
reassuring smile.

 

“It is too much of a risk!” Thranduil was determined to stand his ground, but then Lindir
pressed close and he inhaled the minstrel’s reassuring scent. He wanted to curl up
against Lindir, but he couldn’t show such weakness – not right now!

 

“I am not accepting your no,” announced Legolas. “Lindir, take good care of my father. I
want him to rest tonight. When the sun rises, we will depart.” Legolas gestured for
Elrohir to follow him.

 

All Thranduil could do was to stare at his son’s retreating back. “Did he really do that?
I thought I was King here…”

 

Lindir chuckled. “You will have to get used to Legolas wielding power at times.” Gently,
but firmly, he pulled Thranduil onto the ground with him. “Lie down.” Displeased, he
found that Thranduil opted for lying down with his back toward him -- that way, the
Woodland Elf still had an excellent view of the assassins. But Lindir also knew that they
had already achieved one victory and that he couldn’t ask more of Thranduil. Lying down
behind him, he pressed close to his lover and wrapped his arms around him. If his actions
surprised Thranduil’s guards, they didn’t let it show. They went about their business of
building a fire and seeing to the horses. The most seasoned warriors took to guarding the
assassins.

 

“Legolas ordering me around does not bother me,” said Thranduil in a moment of honesty.

 

“Then what does?” asked Lindir, nuzzling Thranduil’s neck and hair. He could hardly wait
for them to arrive in Mirkwood and have some privacy, as he ached to touch Thranduil more
intimately.

 

“The fact that I am actually obeying.” Thranduil’s eyes began to glaze over. The truth
was that he hadn’t slept much since Elrond’s letter had reached him. He still didn’t feel
safe and felt Saerif’s glare upon him, but at the same time Lindir’s presence was lulling
him into sleep. “I cannot go… to sleep…”

 

Lindir smiled, ruefully. His lips came to rest close to Thranduil’s ear and he sang
softly, a lullaby which would put even the most stubborn Elfling to sleep. His tactic
worked; Thranduil relaxed against him and his breathing lengthened and deepened. The eyes
grew vacant with exhaustion.

 

Legolas had been watching Lindir and his father and realized that the minstrel must
really love Thranduil, hearing the softly sung lullaby. It was also the way Lindir held
Thranduil close – in a loving and caring way. Seeing his father’s eyes grow vacant
revealed just how exhausted Thranduil was. /I wonder what ghosts haunt you, Ada. Ghosts
which you have not yet revealed to me./

 

“Legolas?” Elrohir leaned against Legolas and the blond Elf reacted by wrapping an arm
around his waist. “Are you worried about your father? He looks tired.”

 

“He is drained,” replied Legolas, whose gaze now shifted from his father to Saerif.
“Drained from constantly worrying about everyone’s safety. My heart will feel lighter
once we lock the doors of the maze behind those five assassins.”

 

Elrohir shivered under Saerif’s venomous look. “I always wondered how Elves could slay
their own kind, but now I am beginning to understand. The coldness in their eyes – the
hatred – it affects even me.”

 

“I feel this urge to make certain that they will never harm anyone ever again.” Legolas
rested his head against Elrohir’s shoulder. “And the irony is that we can only do that by
ending their lives. But we won’t end their lives ourselves – the spiders will do that.”

 

“He is listening to our conversation,” realized Elrohir, seeing Saerif’s expression turn
even more hostile.

 

“I want to know what he did to my father in the past,” whispered Legolas. “For it is
obvious that my father fears him. My father is afraid that Saerif will hurt us, but the
moment I remove his gag only venom will drip from his tongue.”

 

“Maybe you should ask your father instead?” Elrohir’s hand came to rest on the hilt of
his sword. Even bound and gagged the assassins radiated danger. “I won’t be able to rest
tonight.”

 

“Neither will I.” Legolas looked at his father again and found Thranduil still soundly
asleep. Lindir however, who had been the most drained of all the Elves, remained awake
and his sky-blue eyes never strayed far from their target – Lindir was keeping a close
eye on Oropher’s minions. “I want them out of our lives.”

 

Elrohir nodded once, completely agreeing with the Woodland Elf. For the remainder of the
night they stood watch, side by side.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thranduil’s eyes fluttered open, and shocked, he realized he had slept most of the night.
Arien was already rising in the east and Ithil long gone. All around him, the Elves were
preparing for departure and the assassins had already been tied to the saddles of their
horses.

 

“Ah, you are awake again!” Ignoring the looks he was attracting, Lindir pressed a chaste
kiss onto Thranduil’s golden head. “Are you ready to leave?”

 

“You should not have let me sleep!” He had been so determined to guard his beloved’s
safety!

 

“Nothing happened, Ada,” said Legolas, advancing on them. He extended a hand and offered
it to his father. Thranduil accepted it and Legolas pulled his father to his feet. “This
will be over with shortly and peace will return to our realm – and our hearts.”

 

Thranduil dismissed lecturing his son. Legolas was right – nothing had happened during
the time he had slept. /And what use am I when I am exhausted and almost asleep on my
feet? None!/

 

Lindir got to his feet, stretched and smiled when Thranduil made eye contact. “I hope
that we will soon sleep in a comfortable bed.” Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Where we
will also have some privacy, melethron.” To his surprise, Thranduil blushed. /But then
again, why am I surprised? Everything he has done so far points to insecurity on his
part./ He hoped that Elrond had rightly put his trust in him and that he would find a way
to gain Thranduil’s trust.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindir felt apprehensive now that the time had come to deal with the assassins. They had
ridden like the wind to reach the maze and now that they stood before the heavy, metal
doors, he felt nervous. After all, they were condemning five of the Firstborn to certain
death. /But there is no alternative!/

 

“Bring them before me.” Thranduil’s heart thundered now that he was about to face his
worst enemy for a last time. The five assassins would die inside the labyrinth – that was
a fact. There was simply no escape from the maze.

 

Oropher’s minions were led before him and Thranduil removed Saerif’s gag. Most of the
warriors who had accompanied him had a personal reason to hate Saerif and his
accomplices. Thranduil had selected his companions carefully – they had all lost
relatives because of Oropher’s trained killers. “This is the last time that we will ever
meet.”

 

“You will always remain a whelp, weak and lacking, Thranduil. You will never become the
lion your father was!” Saerif’s voice dripped with loathing and his dark eyes were alight
with hate. Glaring at Thranduil, he spat at the Woodland King. “You are beneath me!”

 

Legolas reacted with backhanding Saerif. He wasn’t a volatile person, but the assassin’s
audacity enraged him. “My father is the best King this realm could wish for!”

 

Saerif’s eyes narrowed, as they targeted Legolas next. “And you? You are not even worthy
of the blood that flows through your veins!”

 

“Enough!” Thranduil had recovered from the insults and gestured for the guards to unlock
the huge doors. The remaining warriors formed a line, raised their bows and aimed at the
doorway just in case spiders would break through the moment the doors opened.

 

The large doors opened with a load roar and Thranduil drew in a deep breath. “It is over
now.” At his signal, the guards pushed the assassins inside. “Close the doors and lock
them in!”

 

“You can lock us in your father’s maze, Thranduil, but know that we will survive. And if
the Valar are willing, we will come for you and teach you the meaning of fear and pain!”

 

“You will never leave this labyrinth again!” Legolas’ blood boiled and for one moment he
wanted to slay Saerif, but Elrohir kept him back.

 

The doors began to close, but Saerif still managed to target a last, pain-causing remark
aimed at Thranduil. “May your mother’s dying screams always haunt you, whelp!”

 

“Lock the doors,” said Thranduil through gritted teeth. His hands turned into fists and
he glared at Saerif until the doors had firmly fallen into place. The guards locked the
doors and then looked to Thranduil for further instructions.

 

Lindir felt alarmed, seeing the changed expression in Thranduil’s eyes. /His mother’s
dying screams? What was Saerif implying?/ He vowed to find out once they were alone.

 

“I want four guards posted at these doors at all times. Notify me at once, should
anything unexpected happen. If one of them manages to escape, kill him. I will resume
responsibility for the murder.” Thranduil shook over his entire body. Saerif had managed
to strengthen the horrible memories that had been lurking near the surface. The fact that
he hadn’t suffered any nightmares when they had rested still surprised him. /Maybe it was
Lindir’s presence./ He *had* felt safe!

 

“Ada?” Saerif’s words confused Legolas and he walked toward his father, hoping to receive
some answers on his questions. “What did he mean when he said your mother’s dying
screams?”

 

Thranduil flinched. “I do not wish to discuss this – not now, not in the future. Never,
Legolas. Never bring this up again!” Seeing the hurt expression in Legolas’ azure eyes
stung, but his son would deal with this emotional blow. “Some parts of our family history
are not for discussion.” After uttering those words, he turned on his heel and left.

 

Lindir, stunned at Thranduil’s sudden retreat, ran after him. “Wait for me!” Saerif’s
words had obviously greatly upset Thranduil and he couldn’t let it go – not like that.
Elrond had told him how important it was that Thranduil confide in him and he realized
how hard the road was that lay ahead of him.

 

Thranduil continued to walk, never slowing down. Although he loved Lindir, he could never
tell his beloved just how horrible his family history really was.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Legolas?” Worried, Elrohir rested a hand on Legolas’ shoulder.

 

“I cannot believe my father did that!” Legolas shook his head. “He never refused to
discuss anything with me before!”

 

Elrohir led Legolas toward the mellyrn trees and wondered which tree held Thranduil and
Legolas’ home. “I do not know why Saerif said that, but it was clear that he was trying
to hurt your father.”

 

“And he succeeded!” Legolas drew in a deep breath and composed himself. “Please come this
way.” He guided Elrohir up one of the trees until they encountered the dwellings, built
high up in the tree’s branches. He opened the door and entered his rooms. “My father’s
private chambers are up there,” Legolas said, pointing at the highest dwelling.

 

Elrohir memorized the location and then concentrated on his beloved again. He took
Legolas’ hand in his and walked over to the bed, which stood in the corner of the room.
Sitting down, he pulled Legolas along with him. “What do you know of your grandmother’s
death?”

 

“Very little.” Legolas frowned and released the breath he had been holding. “I only know
that she died when my father was very little – I think he was about ten years old when
she died. A mere child.”

 

Elrohir shivered. “I lost my mother as well, but not at such tender an age.” The day that
Celebrían had sailed had been the worst day in his life. “I assume Oropher raised
Thranduil?”

 

Legolas’ frown deepened. “He must have. My father has always been very reluctant to tell
me about his childhood. I only know that it was far from pleasant. Oropher was harsh and
hard to please.” Lost in thought, Legolas mused aloud. “My father has hinted that he was
afraid of Oropher, but I do not know that many details. My father was afraid of those
assassins and yet Oropher never tried to shield him from them.”

 

“Legolas, I do not know your father very well, but he seems… tormented. As if the past
still causes him to hurt. Maybe you should pressure him into talking about his
childhood?”

 

“Elrohir, you heard what he just said! He does not want to discuss this.” Legolas allowed
for himself to fall backward onto the soft bed. “My father is the best father I could
have wished for. He loves me unconditionally and he has always been there for me. He
would rather die himself than let harm befall me. It is a strange thing to think that
Oropher did not feel the same way about his son – that he would have mistreated him to
such an extent that my father learned to fear him.”

 

“And that is exactly the reason why you need to broach this subject with your father.”
Elrohir cleared his throat and blushed, weakly, feeling Legolas’ curious eyes on him. “My
father always insisted that I had the makings of a healer… I do not know if I concur,
but… Something tells me that you cannot let your father get away with this behavior.”

 

Legolas raised his right hand and caressed Elrohir’s face. “My instincts tell me the same
thing, but you do not know how hard it is to pressure my father into anything –
especially discussing his childhood and Oropher.”

 

“You could start by finding out more about your grandmother without addressing Saerif’s
remark.”

 

Legolas nodded once and then closed his eyes – he felt weary from the journey. Neither
he, nor Elrohir, had had a chance to rest during the trip home.  “Elrohir, your advice is
sound and I will try to break through my father’s walls, but for now I require rest and I
am certain that you need to sleep as well.”

 

Elrohir went willingly and curled himself around Legolas. “Finally, you are allowing me
to hold you,” he whispered, delighted that this time it was he, who was offering comfort
and holding his beloved close.

 

“Do not get used to it,” whispered Legolas, who was rapidly falling asleep. “You are in
Mirkwood now… and it is my duty to keep you safe…”

 

“I do not need anyone to protect me,” whispered Elrohir, stroking the long, flaxen hair.
“But I will make an exception for you – just for you.”

 

“Good,” whispered Legolas before drifting into sleep.

 

Elrohir managed to stay awake for a few more minutes, feeling blessed that Legolas loved
him back. After pressing a kiss against Legolas’ temple, he followed his beloved into
much needed sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Thranduil? You are trembling.” Lindir’s worries increased, seeing Thranduil shake
himself to pieces. He didn’t know what to make of his beloved’s reactions, so he advanced
extremely carefully. He had followed Thranduil into his private chambers and not one Elf
had tried to stop him from doing so, although his actions had earned him some curious
looks.

 

Thranduil’s chambers were quite the surprise. He had expected them to be luxuriously
furnished, but they weren’t. The walls were bare, except for one drawing, clearly made by
a child – Legolas, no doubt. Why would the Mirkwood King keep his quarters this bare?
This… bereft?

 

“Lindir, please… I cannot deal with this now. If you love me…”

“Do not use that one against me, Thranduil.” Lindir had gathered his courage and now
faced the flaxen-haired Elf. He halfway expected Thranduil to lecture him, throw harsh
words his way, and so he wasn’t prepared for the tears that dripped down Thranduil’s
cheeks. “Why are you crying?” It was a stupid question, but one that needed to be asked.

 

“Lindir, I cannot tell you… Never.”

 

“Never is a long time,” said Lindir, thoughtfully, as he managed to lock Thranduil in an
embrace, which he kept loose, so the other Elf could always escape the intimacy, should
he want to. “I won’t force you to do anything against your will,” said Lindir and the
words had effect on Thranduil, who finally rested his head on the minstrel’s shoulder. “I
will settle for holding you – comforting you – in the hope that you will one day trust me
enough to confide in me.”

 

“It has nothing to do with trust,” revealed Thranduil, who was growing calmer now that
Lindir accepted the boundary he had set. “It is about shame and guilt. I trust you,
Lindir. Only the Valar know why, but I did the first time I heard you sing.”

 

Lindir guided Thranduil toward the couch and sat him down. “Is there anything special
about my singing voice, melethron?” Why did his singing have such a strong effect on the
Woodland Elf?

 

“Nay… It is just…” Oh darn! He had cornered himself – only moments ago he had announced
that he did not want to discuss this – and now he had to address it at any rate! “My
mother used to sing for me. She sang the sweetest lullabies and…” Fierce emotions made it
impossible for him to continue and he tried to pull away from Lindir, but the minstrel
wouldn’t allow it.

 

Lindir knew he had to tread extremely carefully. “I can sing them for you, if you tell me
which her favorite ones were.”

 

“Nay.” Thranduil shook his head. “Hearing them would remind me too much of her… of her…”
He couldn’t say the words.

 

“Her death?”

 

“The fact that I still miss her.”

 

Lindir was tempted to continue their conversation in the hope to find out more about
Thranduil’s mother, but he also realized that he needed to take small steps or else
Thranduil would lock him out again. Apparently discussing Thranduil’s mother was
acceptable, but not her death, so he steered away from that subject. “You must have loved
her very much.” What Elfling didn’t adore his mother?

 

“Aye, I did.” Thranduil managed a rare smile, recalling happier moments, but then the
darkness of her death descended onto him again. Lindir remained quiet and he appreciated
the fact that the minstrel gave him time to compose himself. “I apologize for being a bad
host – and an even worse mate.” He lifted his eyes and felt relieved, still seeing love
in Lindir’s blue ones. Love was a rare thing in his life. Only one person ever had given
him unconditional love – Legolas. And although he had loved his wife, there had never
been much passion between them. He had not been ready to give all of himself at that
point.

 

“My advisors will shortly visit with me,” Thranduil said, running his thumb along
Lindir’s jaw line. “You might want to take a bath and rest in the meantime.” Seeing a
questioning expression in his beloved’s eyes, he added, “Aye, you will stay here… In my
private chambers… I do not want you gone from my side. Please stay?”

 

“Of course I will!” Lindir placed his hands on either side of Thranduil’s head –
insecurity and fear of loss stared right back at him. “I love you. I left Imladris for
you. I have no intention of leaving you.” Lindir wondered about Thranduil – about his
beloved’s need to be reassured and to know him close. And at the same time, Thranduil
sometimes did his best to drive him away. It was almost as if Thranduil was afraid to
accept that he was here to stay. /Just what happened to you in the past? What made you so
afraid to love?/ He prayed to the Valar that he would find out. Because only if he did,
could he influence Thranduil’s way of thinking and change things for the better.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“How did the meeting go?”

 

Thranduil feasted on the sight of Lindir’s almost naked body. The white-haired Elf had
just finished taking his bath and tiny water droplets possessively clung to the alabaster
skin. The white hair, still wet, framed Lindir’s handsome face. The eyes, warm and
sparkling, seemed to welcome him home and this time Thranduil trembled for different
reasons. The towel, wrapped around Lindir’s narrow hips, hid only the most private parts.
Thranduil’s gaze was drawn toward Lindir’s belly button, which for some reason seemed
utterly erotic to him. How would his beloved react should he insert his tongue in that
belly button and swirl it about?

 

“Thranduil?” Lindir smiled, wondering what had caused Thranduil’s blush to return. “What
*are* you thinking?” So far, they had done little but kissing and caressing. He wanted to
take the next step, but it was Thranduil who was holding back and again Lindir wondered
why. “How did the meeting go?” he repeated his question, taking pity on the Woodland Elf.

 

“As expected,” replied Thranduil, shaking himself from admiring Lindir. “I still cannot
believe that you left Imladris so you could be with me.” That realization still had to
fully set in. Off-guard, he added, “I still expect you to vanish.”

 

Lindir ran a hand through his hair, trying to untangle the strands. He advanced on
Thranduil and cocked his head, standing in front of him. “I am here and I am very real.”
Lindir raised his arms and wrapped Thranduil in a hug. The Woodland Elf quivered in his
arms and he pulled him close. “You can touch me, you know.”

 

“I…” Bashful, Thranduil closed his eyes. “I have a confession to make.”

 

Lindir only marginally released him, giving Thranduil a bit more breathing space. “What
is it?”

 

“I have never been with a male before.”

 

Lindir cocked an eyebrow. “I have… Liaisons, never serious enough to consider forming a
bond. Until now, that is.”

 

“Ah, at least one of us has some experience then.”

 

“Surely you have some experience? You were married once.”

 

Thranduil’s blush deepened. “Legolas’ mother and I… We were not drawn to each other in a
physical way. Aye, we mated, but only to create new life and when we did, it was not in a
very passionate way.”

 

“Did you love her?” Seeing Thranduil’s sudden indignant glare, he already knew the
answer. “You did.”

 

“Aye, I loved her, but it was more of a brotherly love. Oropher had arranged the marriage
long before he died and we were bound to wed. I loved and respected her, but as a
sister.”

 

Lindir began to understand. “You have never known a night of passion?”

 

“Nay.” Thranduil’s blush intensified further. “Kissing you has been the most passionate
experience so far.”

 

/It explains his timid behavior,/ thought Lindir. /He does not know how to proceed. I
will have to take the lead./

 

Thranduil felt intoxicated, having Lindir this close. The minstrel’s scent was
everywhere, but it smelled different. “Pine? Pine and musk?”

 

“Aye, your personal fragrances. I found the scented oils in the bathroom, which is quite
ingenious!” Tension had risen between them after discussing something so intimate and
Lindir judged the time right to change the topic and insert some mild humor. “I did not
think I would find a bath up here in the trees.” It was the one luxury he had found so
far. “The bathroom is marvelous.”

 

It is important to be clean at all times, Thranduil. Do you hear me, son?

 

Thranduil shook his head. Oropher’s booming voice roared in his ears and words slipped
unnoticed from his lips. “It is important to be clean at all times. No filthy Elfling
will walk these caves.”

 

“Thranduil?” Alarmed, Lindir rubbed Thranduil’s hands, which had grown icy cold.

 

“Oropher,” said Thranduil, lost in his past. “He did not want a dirty heir. He made me
bathe in the stream.” He shivered. “During winter the water was icy cold. There were
times when I thought that I would freeze to death.”

 

Lindir caressed Thranduil’s face. “Melethron?” A fearful realization set in – in just how
many ways had Oropher mistreated his son?

 

“When I took up residence here I had that bathroom built. Some of the constructors
thought I had lost my mind, but they managed the impossible. Flowing water, warm water,
high upon in the tree. All that so I would never have to bathe in the cold stream again.”
He continued to shiver, still feeling the cold of that dark water.

 

Worried, Lindir stroked Thranduil’s hair. “Oropher and you…” He didn’t know precisely
what he had wanted to say and when Thranduil raised his hand in an authoritative way, he
grew quiet.

 

“Speak his name as little as possible, I beg of you.” The memories were gaining in
strength. “May I comb and braid your hair?” Thranduil was desperate to distract himself
and assisting Lindir in this way promised to be most distracting. “I love the way the
strands move through my fingers.”

 

“You may, melethron.” Lindir collected comb and brush from the bathroom and then sat down
on the bed. Patting the space beside him, he said, “Come here, meleth.”

 

Thranduil obeyed and he sat down behind Lindir. During the next minutes, he busied
himself combing and braiding Lindir’s hair. He refused to think of Oropher and the way
his father had mistreated him. He had Lindir now and he was about to start a whole new
life. He had to focus on his beloved! He had to repress these memories – this pain!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I cannot find Elladan.” Elrond’s brow furrowed and he looked helplessly at Glorfindel.
The two Elves were working on the duty rosters and Elrond had been unable to keep his
worries private any longer.

 

“Did you check the stables?” Glorfindel placed the roster onto the desk, leaned in closer
and gave Elrond a bright smile.

 

“Nay, I did not.” The frown deepened. “Should I have?”

 

“Do you recall asking me to train a horse for our King? Elladan took one look at that
magnificent animal and decided he would do it. He has been trying to bond with the
stallion since, even sleeping in the stables.” Glorfindel had thought it impossible but
the frown became even more threatening. “Is anything amiss?”

 

“Glorfindel, how is that horse supposed to build a relationship with Dûrel when he
already has one with Elladan?” He felt incredibly relieved to learn the reason for
Elladan’s disappearance was a horse. His son had always been a natural when it came to
handling new horses and he should have checked the stables.

 

Glorfindel’s eyes widened. “Uhm…” Lost for words, he shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Is it a fine horse, Glorfindel?”

 

“Extraordinary -- a gift from the Golden Wood.”

 

Elrond drew in a deep breath. “Dûrel will need a horse that is unbound and will only
answer to him. Write Celeborn and ask him if he has another horse which he deems worthy
to become our King’s steed.”

 

“And what about this one, meldir4?” Glorfindel felt guilty – after all, this stallion was
supposed to be Dûrel’s!

 

“Is Elladan really that fond of that horse?” Elrond decided that he would visit the
stables after this meeting had ended. Hopefully he would find his son there.

 

“Aye, he is.” Glorfindel smiled. “Elladan has always had a way with horses. I am not
saying that this horse can replace Elrohir, but he will make a good companion and keep
Elladan focused.”

 

“Then the horse is his,” said Elrond, firmly. “Glorfindel, will you keep an eye on him? I
wish I had more time to check on him, but now that the news of Dûrel’s existence is
spreading, more and more realms are asking for information. I am buried in paperwork and
I feel guilty because of that. Elladan’s needs should come first, but…”

 

“The pace will slow down once everyone knows what to expect,” soothed Glorfindel. “And
when that happens, you can spend all the time you want with Elladan. In the meantime, I
will provide a listening ear, and, if he wants it, I will be his companion.”

 

“Arwen has expressed her wish to travel to the Golden Wood to visit her grandparents. She
will leave tomorrow.”

 

“Is it because of Dûrel’s presence?” Glorfindel vividly recalled the conversation he’d
had with her.

 

“I do not think so. She seems to have accepted his presence in our lives. I think that
she wants to spend time with Galadriel – her grandmother. She still misses Celebrían.”

 

“We all do.”

 

“But it is different for her,” whispered Elrond. “She lost her mother. Celebrían and she
were always close – they had to be, considering the rest of their family consisted of
stubborn males.” Elrond chuckled, softly, recalling Celebrían’s happiness when she had
discovered that she had given birth to a girl.

 

“Your children will all find their places in life,” offered Glorfindel. “Elrohir already
has.”

 

/And Arwen’s fate was revealed to me a long time ago. She will marry Elessar. She will
find her way, but I worry about Elladan. What if he remains unbound?/

 

“Elrond? Why are you brooding?” Glorfindel had long learned to recognize that look.

 

“I am worried about Elladan,” said Elrond, confiding in his old friend. “I do not want
him to remain behind now that Elrohir has found his mate.”

 

Glorfindel placed his hand atop of his friend’s. “You cannot force love, Elrond. When it
happens, it happens.”

 

“You are right, of course.” Elrond forced his depressive thoughts away and concentrated
on the duty rosters.

 

/I will keep an eye on Elladan, Elrond. Do not worry about him. Elladan is stronger than
he seems./ Glorfindel smiled, fond of his former student. “I will look after him,
Elrond.”

 

“Hannon le5, Glorfindel,” whispered Elrond, grateful that he had such a good friend.

 


 

1  meleth –- love (Sindarin, noun) 

2 melethron –- (male) lover (Sindarin, noun)

3 Ada  –- dad, daddy, papa (Sindarin, noun)

4 meldir (sing.) –-“male” friend (Sindarin, noun) mell + dir

5  Hannon le –- Thank you (Sindarin, verb, pronoun) literal: I thank thee

 

From the Council of Elrond Quenyan and Sindarin dictionary

 

OC Names:

Dûrel - Dark Star

Saerif – Bitter Bark

Feruilos – white tree – Thranduil’s white stallion