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 3

 

 

“Elladan!” Elrond had quickly finished up his paperwork and had then headed for the
stables. He felt relieved, seeing his oldest son training the proud stallion Celeborn had
sent. He needed only a few moments to realize that Elf and horse had already formed a
tight connection – he had made the right decision then, giving the stallion to Elladan.
Dûrel would have to train his own horse when it arrived.

 

“Ada1!” Pleased to see his father out in the open instead of in his stuffy and crowded
study, Elladan gestured for Elrond to approach further. “Grandfather chose well, sending
us this marvelous steed!”

 

Elrond cocked his head, wondering how long it would take Elladan to realize he had
thwarted their plans to arrange for a good horse for Dûrel. The grey stallion gave him a
curious look, but there was also a hint of suspicion mixed in. Aye, this horse would have
made an excellent mount for their High-King, but now it was Elladan’s. “Did he tell you
his name yet?”

 

“His name is Mithlas,” replied Elladan. “A well-chosen name, for his hooves dance lightly
on the ground, much like a leaf falling onto the grass.” Elladan’s eyes shone with pride
and pleasure and the stallion easily picked up on the Elf’s friendly feelings for him.
Mithlas buried his warm nose against Elladan’s shoulder and nudged him about, almost
pushing Elladan off of his feet. He had not been pleased, learning that Celeborn intended
to send him to Imladris, but he had accepted his fate. Now that he had spent time with
Elladan and some of the other Elves, he realized they were kind and that life in Imladris
would be good for him.

 

Elrond tried to look stern. “Elladan, you *do* realize Mithlas is meant to form a
connection with Dûrel?” 

 

“Oh…” Elladan blushed and awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Aye, Glorfindel told me so, but…”
But somewhere along the way he had lost focus and had formed that connection with
Mithlas. The stallion would be hard-pressed to accept Dûrel now. “Ada, I…” The truth was
that he had taken a strong liking to this horse and he could not envision giving Mithlas
up to Dûrel. But Dûrel *was* their High-King and Mithlas a gift from the Golden Wood to
their King. He had overstepped his boundaries.

 

Unable to mask his amusement any longer, Elrond gave in and chuckled. “Glorfindel told me
about your attempts to bond with the horse and I must say you chose well.” Elrond entered
the enclosure and headed toward his oldest son. Mithlas’ expression remained suspicious,
but the horse allowed him close. “This one is already protective of you.”

 

“I should apologize to Dûrel,” said Elladan, regretting getting carried away where
training Mithlas was concerned.

 

“I would not worry about that if I were you.” Elrond gave his son a conspiring smile.
“Dûrel does not know that Mithlas was meant to be his horse and I am certain Celeborn did
not send his best horse, wanting to keep it to himself instead. I will send another
request and this time, Celeborn will have to send his best horse.”

 

Elladan blinked; had he interpret his father’s words correctly? But no, he had to be
mistaken! “Does that mean that Mithlas…?”

 

“Mithlas is yours,” said Elrond, nodding his head. “Treat him well and train him even
better. A war-horse can save lives in battle.”

 

“You would give him to me?”

 

Mithlas, sensing Elladan’s excitement, snorted and pushed his head against the half-Elf’s
back.

 

“Behave yourself,” said Elladan, half-heartedly. He was much too excited to seriously
chide the stallion. “Are you serious, Ada? Mithlas is mine?”

 

Elrond chuckled. “I doubt that Mithlas will ever be yours. It is more the other way
around, isn’t it?”

 

Elladan laughed. “You are probably right.” Casting a loving look in Mithlas’ direction,
he threw his arms around the broad neck and hugged the horse close. “This means I can
continue to train him? Ride him? For as long as he shall live?”

 

“Aye.” Elrond hadn’t thought it would be so easy to make Elladan happy. Maybe Glorfindel
had been right and Mithlas was the perfect distraction. /But the moment will come when
Elladan realizes that Mithlas is just a horse. No matter how splendid Mithlas is, he can
never replace Elrohir./ But he would let Elladan find out that painful truth in his own
time. For now, Elrond enjoyed watching them frolic about. He could only hope that Elrohir
was equally happy with Legolas.

 

~~~

 

Elrohir woke to a warm and pleasant sensation. Legolas was still curled around him and
even purring into his ear in his sleep. /I made the right decision,/ thought Elrohir. /If
I had stayed in Imladris we would both have been miserable. This way, we can be
together./

 

As they had gone to bed naked, Elrohir indulged himself by studying Legolas’ lithe body.
The blond Elf didn’t sport much muscle tone, but the strong arms and elegant fingers
instantly betrayed his true passion – archery. He had seen Legolas fight and knew what
carnage the Woodland Elf was capable of. At times, it was hard to combine the two images
– the image of the feral killer and the image of the kind, loving Elf that now lay beside
him.

 

Legolas had once told him that it had been necessity that had made him perfect his
weapons’ skills. Living in Mirkwood was dangerous and the deadly spiders were always
present. They had been fortunate not to encounter any on their journey here.

 

That unfathomable combination of deadly stealth and warm love made his heart race.
Elrohir’s fingertips ghosted over Legolas’ hip and he stroked the satin-like skin there.
Legolas had always been somewhat of a riddle to him. The Woodland Elf was the most
ethereal Elf he had ever seen and the first time they had met, he had made the mistake of
thinking Legolas needed his protection. Legolas had effectively floored him and he had
found himself on his back with Legolas towering over him with a victorious smile on his
face. Although he knew that Legolas needed no protection his heart filled with the need
to keep his beloved safe.

 

His fingertips trailed down and Elrohir sucked in his breath, encountering hard and
weeping flesh. His beloved was erect with desire and moving his hips in order to bring
his erection closer to his fingers, yearning for more contact, for friction. Elrohir gave
Legolas, who was still asleep, a predatory smile and wrapped his fingers possessively
around Legolas’ shaft. The blond Elf moaned and moved his hips in an attempt to thrust.

 

Elrohir curled his fingers around his own aching member and timed his strokes so they
were simultaneous. Oh, he wouldn’t last long, not with Legolas emitting soft, needy moans
like that! He had dreamt of touching Legolas intimately for so long and now that it was
finally happening his passion was getting the better of him. Orgasm was already building
in the pit of his abdomen and he bit his bottom lip in concentration, trying to postpone
his climax, but to no avail.

 

Legolas’ eyes, which had been vacant with sleep only a moment ago, filled with awareness.
His body reacted to the sensual stimulation and he thrust into Elrohir’s hand. Moving
closer still, he caught Elrohir’s lips with his and instigated a passionate kiss, during
which he thoroughly explored his lover’s mouth. Elrohir’s dark hair mingled with his, his
tongue dueled with the half-Elf’s and Elrohir’s hand stroked firmer, pushing him toward
certain climax.

 

A moment later, hot cream splashed against Legolas’ abdomen and his eyes widened further.
He hadn’t reached orgasm yet, so that left only one other possibility – Elrohir had come
first. One look down their entangled bodies revealed Elrohir had indeed found release and
not wanting to stay behind, he let go, finding release himself.

 

Elrohir’s fingers uncurled and he stared in wonder at Legolas. The blond Elf seemed to
shine from within and looked utterly beautiful to him. There was surrender in the sea-
blue eyes and Elrohir suspected Legolas would be yielding when they finally decided to
make love. If that was the way it was supposed to be, he would gladly accept it, for he
desired nothing more than to make his beloved happy and to leave him completely
fulfilled. “I have never seen anything more stunning than the way you looked letting go.”

 

Legolas gave Elrohir a lazy smile and pressed another kiss onto the half-Elf’s lips. “You
took me by surprise, starting this during my sleep.” He had assumed Elrohir would be a
bit more reserved when it came to deepening their relationship, but he had been wrong.
Everything about Elrohir breathed pure attraction, lust and eroticism. He smiled, brushed
a wayward strand of dark hair behind a slightly pointed ear and realized he was in for
quite an interesting ride.

 

~~~

 

Galednel, Thranduil’s Seneschal, Mithrilas, the King’s Chief Advisor and Barandhraug,
Captain of the royal guards, had finally left and Lindir breathed a sigh of relief. The
council had lasted several hours and had given Lindir a chance to study these three Elves
that made up Thranduil’s staff. Thranduil seemed to mostly rely on Galednel, an Elf who
had seen many millennia pass by. Although the Elf held the position of Seneschal, he was
a seasoned warrior, who could easily hold his own in battle. The Seneschal possessed the
golden hair which seemed common here in Mirkwood. Galednel’s probing brown eyes had
lingered on him for a long time, but Lindir had sensed no animosity. In the end, the
Seneschal had even smiled at him.

 

Mithrilas, Thranduil’s Chief Advisor, had also studied him for some time, but had left
without gracing him with a reassuring smile. Mithrilas’ silver-like hair had made Lindir
wonder if the Elf hailed from the Golden Wood originally. Something about Mithrilas
puzzled him and he planned on asking Thranduil later.

 

Barandhraug had been a pleasant surprise though. The Captain reminded him of Glorfindel
in more ways than one. Barandhraug sported the same dancing expression in his azure eyes
and always carried a sword, even in Thranduil’s study. The warrior was dedicated to
Thranduil and had been furious when his King had told him that he had to stay behind to
guard Mirkwood and couldn’t accompany him to capture Oropher’s assassins. The Captain had
lost many of his trainees due to Oropher’s cruel training methods and had been the first
Elf to openly support Thranduil when the young Elf was called upon to lead their people
after Oropher’s death.

 

“They will leave us alone for the rest of the day,” said Thranduil, noticing Lindir’s
frown. He had asked Lindir to attend the council meeting on purpose as he had wanted to
find out his staff’s reactions to his new mate. So far, they seemed to accept Lindir. “I
have been away for weeks so they needed to update me.”

 

Lindir nodded once and walked toward Thranduil. The golden-haired Elf looked tense and
tired and Lindir wrapped an arm around Thranduil’s waist. Pulling Thranduil along, he
guided the Woodland Elf back to their bed. “I want you to rest for a little while.” Now
that the assassins and other pressing matters had been taken care of, Thranduil deserved
rest. Lindir stretched on the bed and pulled Thranduil down with him.

 

Thranduil went willingly, wrapping arms and legs around the minstrel’s frame. As they lay
face to face, they were able to study each other at leisure. “Seeing the love in your
eyes still takes me aback,” admitted Thranduil in a shaky voice. “I never dared to hope
that you would exchange Imladris for Mirkwood.”

 

“Love is a most powerful force,” whispered Lindir, letting his lips press against
Thranduil’s brow. Last night, after Thranduil had combed and braided his hair, Lindir had
suggested resting for the night. Only after some considerable coaching had Thranduil
removed his clothes and joined him in bed naked. “I did not think you would be this shy
when it comes to touching me.”

 

Thranduil looked at the white-haired Elf in his arms and realized he had reached an
important crossroad in his life. Instead of keeping his thoughts private, he decided to
share them, which was a major step for the traumatized Woodland King. “I have always been
a very private person, Lindir. I had to. In my life, there have only been three people
whom I trusted. The first was my mother, Gaelveril, but she died before I turned ten
years old. She was a very kind, very loving mother and I still remember whispered words
of love, which she would speak when rocking me. The second one was Lhûnel, my wife.
Although Oropher had arranged for that marriage, we learned to respect and love each
other. And the third is Legolas, my only child.”

 

Lindir held his breath, realizing he was given fragile trust. One wrong word might cause
Thranduil to lock him out again. “I am surprised you fell for me, then – a male.”

 

“I surprised myself.” Thranduil twirled a lock of Lindir’s white hair around a fingertip.
“There is something about you that attracts me to you. I think I fell in love with you
that first time I heard you sing.” Thranduil had been afraid that Lindir would follow up
with more questions about his mother and his wife, but the minstrel had thankfully chosen
a different path. /But the questions will come eventually./

 

“I will always sing for you,” promised Lindir, pleased that Thranduil remained relaxed in
his arms. Carefully, he considered his next question. “Did you raise Legolas on your
own?” He recalled something about Lhûnel dying in childbirth, but he wasn’t certain he
remembered correctly.

 

Thranduil briefly closed his eyes to fight off painful memories. “Aye, I did. My wife
died in childbirth.” The emerald eyes opened and Thranduil forced himself to maintain eye
contact. “Standing next to her corpse I asked myself why I should continue on now that
she had been taken away from me. But then Tharmalthen, my personal healer, placed Legolas
in my arms. He was so small, so needy and his big blue eyes fastened on mine. His tiny
hand reached for mine and he managed to wrap his chubby fingers around my thumb. I knew
then that I was still needed and would be loved again. My son needed me and I needed
Legolas in turn.” A single tear escaped Thranduil’s eyes and it glided onto Lindir’s
fingertip, as the minstrel had moved to catch it.

 

“Did it never bother you that the rest of the Elven realms thought badly of you?” Lindir
wondered about Thranduil. “Or was it your way to keep everyone out? Was that the reason
you allowed the rumors about your reputation to spread?” He was beginning to understand
how Thranduil’s mind worked.

 

Thranduil smiled a rueful smile. “Aye, you are right. It was my way of keeping everyone
at a distance. For the first time in my life I had someone whom I could love
unconditionally without having to be afraid I would lose him due to Oropher’s scheming. I
cherished my time with Legolas – watching him grow up and becoming a fine warrior was the
best time of my life.”

 

“But that changed when you traveled to Imladris to confide in Elrond.”

 

“Traveling to Imladris was something I had already postponed too long. I wanted to go
there after realizing Legolas had fallen in love with Elrohir.”

 

“That is another thing that surprised me,” admitted Lindir, gently stroking his beloved’s
face. “You never tried to change Legolas’ mind regarding his love for Elrohir.”

 

“Why should I?” Thranduil shrugged and pulled Lindir a bit closer. “I love my son dearly
and I want him to be happy. Legolas has every right to choose his lover himself… Although
I must admit I was bit shocked to find out that he had fallen for Elrond’s youngest son.”

 

Lindir had already learned a great deal about his lover during this conversation, but
there was one more thing he needed to ask – to know. “Will you let me in, meleth2?” One
look at Thranduil’s spooked eyes told him that his beloved perfectly understood what he
was asking. “This relationship will only work if you let me in – if you share your pain
with me. Back in Imladris you refused to let me help. Have you changed your mind since
then?”

 

“I realize that I face that choice, aye.” Thranduil moistened his lips in an attempt to
stall, but seeing Lindir’s open and trusting expression he knew there could only be one
answer to the minstrel’s question. “I cannot continue like I did in Imladris. You are
here now. You are my mate.”

 

Lindir smiled and rubbed soothing circles onto Thranduil’s back. “Is it so hard to say?”

 

Thranduil swallowed, trying to do away with his nervousness. “It is. You have no idea
what horrid memories lurk just beneath the surface.” But aye, he had to say it. “I love
you and therefore I will trust you. But please keep in mind that it will take time on my
part. I have never confided in anyone before regarding my past.” Seeing Lindir arch an
eyebrow, he added, “Not even Legolas knows the whole truth.”

 

“About Oropher?”


”Aye, about Oropher.” Thranduil pressed closer to Lindir and hoped that the minstrel
understood that this was not the time to discuss Oropher, not yet, not when he was
exhausted.

 

And aye, Lindir understood. He understood that Thranduil had taken a leap of faith and
that it was only a matter of time before Thranduil would share his burden. He had to be
patient and let Thranduil reveal things to him in his own pace, and then, everything
would be all right.

 

~~~

 

A few days later Glorfindel sought out Elladan in the stables. The half-Elf was talking
to Mithlas and Glorfindel smiled, overhearing the conversation.

 

“We will go out riding later,” promised Elladan. “I would like to go right now, but I
promised to help my father with the paperwork. You have no idea how much correspondence
has increased since the word spread that we have a new King.”

 

“You do not have to wait until later,” said Glorfindel, revealing himself to Elladan. “I
already assisted your father and most of the paperwork has been dealt with.” The smile
that formed on Elladan’s face almost blinded him.

 

“Thank you!” exclaimed Elladan, already leading Mithlas out into the open. He had felt
cornered all day long. He wasn’t someone who did well being confided to a study to write
letters. Elladan needed to be out in the open, riding, running, practicing his sword
play!

 

“Go on,” said Glorfindel, gesturing for Elladan to get going. “But remember to return
before dinner. Your father will want to spend time with you.” Elrond missed having
Elrohir close and tried to spend as much time as possible with Elladan instead.

 

Elladan suddenly stilled and looked at Glorfindel from over his shoulder. It had been a
while since Glorfindel and he had had some quality time. “Glorfindel, would you like to
join me? You do look a little pale. Maybe you need sunlight and fresh air?”

 

Glorfindel chuckled, seeing Elladan’s conspiring wink. From the back of the stables,
Asfaloth snorted, trying to gain his attention. “Ah, so you want to go too?” Asfaloth
gave a loud neigh and Glorfindel approached his faithful stallion. “Aye, it has been a
while since I let you run free.” The white stallion scraped a hoof over the ground to
show his impatience. Glorfindel opened the box door and guided his horse outside, where
Elladan had already mounted Mithlas.

 

Glorfindel mounted as well and noticed how the two stallions eyed each other. Glorfindel
held his breath, feeling Asfaloth tense beneath him. “Be on your best behavior,” he
warned the proud stallion. “Mithlas is here to stay and you would do well to befriend
him.”

 

Elladan had sensed the horses’ tension as well and steered Mithlas toward the fields,
encouraging him to break out into a run. Asfaloth followed suit and both horses seemed to
float above the ground, their hooves no longer touching the grass.

 

~~~

 

“I missed that!” exclaimed a happy Glorfindel, who fell backward onto a bed of grass and
moss. Lazily, he stared at the blue sky and large, fluffy clouds.

 

Elladan set Mithlas and Asfaloth loose and sat down beside Glorfindel. He watched the two
horses for a while and reading their body language, he grew assured that they would get
along without supervision. “I never took Asfaloth for the jealous kind.”

 

Glorfindel snorted in mirth. “I suspect it has everything to do with impressing the
mares. He has competition now!”

 

Elladan stretched next to Glorfindel and joined the blond Elf in staring at the sky. “I
used to come here with Elrohir,” he said, sounding melancholy. “I miss him.”

 

“I miss Elrohir as well and so does your father,” said Glorfindel in a kind voice.
Shielding his eyes from the sun which chose that moment to leave the shelter of a large
cloud, he turned his head to look at Elladan, who looked lost. “It is only for six
months, Elladan.”

 

“Maybe for now, aye, but what will happen once Mirkwood becomes his home instead of
Imladris? His heart now belongs to Legolas and Legolas is bound to Mirkwood.”

 

“You can always visit with your twin.” Glorfindel sought out Elladan’s hand and curled
his fingers around it. Elladan had always been the most warrior-like of the twins. Whilst
Elrohir had a talent for lore and healing, much like Elrond, Elladan had the makings of a
great warrior. Elladan was also the twin Glorfindel had always been most drawn to, as
Elrohir had loved to spend time with his father in the library instead.

 

“My father would not allow it,” said Elladan thoughtfully. “And even if he did, I would
not go because my absence would hurt him even more.”

 

/You are a gem, Elladan. You might appear a bit rough on the outside, but you have a
heart of gold./ Glorfindel rubbed Elladan’s fingers and sat upright. “In time, you will
find a love of your own, Elladan.”

 

Elladan swallowed, nervously, and looked at their twined fingers. He had always felt
attracted to the golden-haired Balrog Slayer, who had ever been his hero, even more so
than his father. As a little boy, he had idolized Glorfindel, and as an adult, he felt
honored that Glorfindel had become a good friend. In his heart however, a more passionate
desire lingered, one which he carefully kept hidden. Elladan was convinced that
Glorfindel had no romantic interest in him, although, now that he thought about it, he
had never seen Glorfindel with a lover at his side either. His curiosity got the better
of him. “Can I ask you something personal?”

 

Glorfindel grew alert, seeing the expression in Elladan’s eyes. “You may ask, but I
cannot guarantee that I will answer.”

 

“Fair enough.” Elladan drew in a deep breath to steady his nerves and then said, “Why
have you never taken a lover? I have known you for centuries and yet you remain alone.
Surely some Elf must have drawn your attention in this long time? You do not strike me as
someone who would prefer a solitary life.” Hearing Glorfindel suck in his breath made
Elladan study the azure eyes, which had become hooded all of a sudden. His question had
unbalanced Glorfindel and he was about to apologize when Glorfindel raised his hand in
order to stop him.

 

“I never expected that question,” said Glorfindel, collecting his thoughts and emotions.
“Do you really want to know?” Except for Elrond, no one knew why he remained unbound.

“I do.” Elladan managed to sound firm and determined without sounding too pushy.

 

Glorfindel closed his eyes, wondering why he chose to confront his pain when Elladan
would have let the matter rest – he could tell so by looking in the gray eyes. “I had a
lover once – a mate.”

 

Elladan moistened his lips and curiously inched closer. “Do I know him?”

 

“Nay, you do not. He died long before you were born.” Glorfindel opened his eyes again,
but could not stop the tears that now gathered in them.

 

A terrible suspicion overcame Elladan. There was only one Elf that Glorfindel never spoke
of – actually refused to speak of. And, out of respect for the other Elf, he did not
speak the name and waited for Glorfindel to confirm his suspicions.

 

“Ecthelion and I were inseparable and we loved unconditionally. When he died… when I
died… I thought we would be reunited in death and for a short time we were, but then it
was decided that I should be reborn. I did not want to be reborn!” Glorfindel’s voice
gained in volume and the tears flowed from his swimming eyes. “But they would not listen!
Manwë and Námo did not give me a say in the matter and I was thrust into the world again.
I cried for days… I screamed until my throat was raw, but to no avail.” It had been
Mithrandír who had comforted him, shown him that he should make the best of this life
given to him. The Wizard had remained at his side during his journey to Imladris and when
Mithrandír had left, he had wanted to cry again, but had found that he had no tears left.
He had already cried them all!

 

“I am sorry,” said Elladan in a choked voice. “I did not know…”

 

“No one knows – except for your father that is. I was in a miserable state when I arrived
and his tender care encouraged me to return to life – not just in body, but in mind as
well.” Glorfindel wiped away his tears and broke the hold he had on Elladan’s hand. “I
think I will return to the Last Homely House now. You can stay here, if you want to and
enjoy the sun a little longer.”

 

But Elladan had no intention of letting Glorfindel be on his own so shortly after this
emotional outburst. “Nay, I will accompany you.” He called Mithlas to him and Asfaloth
returned to Glorfindel’s side. Elladan wanted to reach out and comfort Glorfindel, but
the blond Elf’s body language told him that Glorfindel wouldn’t allow it; the warrior
preferred solitude and silence above comfort and companionship. Elladan’s heart ached,
realizing his solace wasn’t wanted. /I am sorry, Glorfindel. I wish I had not asked you
that question./ But he had, and although he wanted nothing more than to reach out and
offer Glorfindel the comfort the other so obviously needed, he was shut out and ignored.

 

~~~

 

“Why are we doing this again?” Elrohir looked unconvinced, staring at the door leading to
the caves. Legolas had been restless these last few days and then, out of the blue, his
lover had asked him to accompany him to the caves. It was the dead of night and most
Elves were asleep. Even the lights in Thranduil’s private chambers had been extinguished
some time ago. “The door is locked, you know.” He had tried opening the door, but had met
with resistance.

 

Legolas, dressed in dark green leggings and tunic, seemed to blend in with his
surroundings perfectly. He had pulled his hair back into a ponytail so it wouldn’t be in
the way during his exploration. “We are here because I can no longer stand by idly and
watch my father suffer.” Ever since they had returned to Mirkwood, Thranduil had grown
quiet, even more introverted, something that worried Legolas a great deal. He could sense
that his father was struggling with painful memories and he had urged Thranduil to
confide in him, but his father had refused. Later on, Lindir had sought him out, telling
him that Thranduil was trying hard to share his burden with him, but that it would take
time. But time was the one thing Legolas no longer had the patience for. It was about
time he found out what haunted his father!

 

Elrohir watched, amusement mingled with concern, how Legolas cunningly picked the lock.
The door opened and Legolas turned to face him. The look in the blue eyes told him he was
up for some sort of fight. “What do you hope to accomplish by going underground?”

 

“Oropher preferred the caves over the mellyrn trees and thus my father lived here during
his childhood. It is the perfect place for me to find out more about my father and our
family history. Something must have remained behind. Something that will tell me what
happened so long ago.” Legolas set one step inside the caves and stopped Elrohir when the
half-Elf tried to follow. “I need you to stand guard.”

 

“Why? It is not like I can warn you when someone approaches.” Legolas would be deep
within the caves by then and if he shouted, everyone would hear him. “This is not up for
discussion, melethron3, I am coming with you.”

 

Legolas considered fighting Elrohir on this, but realized he was losing precious time.
The guards patrolled these grounds regularly and would return within the hour. Glaring at
Elrohir, he gave in and disappeared into the dark underground.

 

Elrohir shivered; he had never been underground before and the lack of light made him
feel like he was about to suffocate. Their Elven night vision allowed them to see
perfectly and he followed Legolas deeper into the caves. Here and there, they found
evidence that Elves had indeed lived here. Clothes, pottery, books, they encountered all
these objects and more on their nightly hunt.

 

“This should be my father’s room.” Thranduil had allowed him to enter the caves just once
and that had been when he had reached majority. His father had told him that he needed to
know what rested underground.

 

Elrohir scanned his surroundings with his eyes. The room was bare, except for a bed and a
giant painting that hung from the wall. The Elf depicted on it was fair-haired, had icy-
blue eyes, wore a silver crown set with jewels and sported the most arrogant expression
he had ever seen. The painting was enough to make him shiver. “Oropher?”

 

“Aye. Oropher.” Legolas didn’t spare the painting a single look – he vividly remembered
feeling his heart freeze when he had looked at it that first time.

 

“The eyes seem to follow me, no matter where I go,” said Elrohir, who was moving about
the room. He couldn’t imagine how a mere child would react to having that painting watch
him every hour of the day.

 

Legolas ignored Elrohir’s comment. The painting froze the blood in his veins too.

 

“What exactly are we looking for?”

 

“Anything that will give us more information about my father’s childhood here. His family
life… My grand-mother.” Legolas opened the closet and searched on the bottom and top of
it, but found only children’s clothing.

 

Elrohir decided to search the bed, recalling how Elladan had breached his privacy by
taking his diary from him. He hadn’t taken great care in hiding it that first time,
believing Elladan wouldn’t invade his privacy in such a manner. Later, he had taken care
and had hidden it well. Lifting the straw-filled mattress he wondered if Thranduil might
have kept a diary. A lonely child might have, he realized. His fingertips encountered
something hard and then paper. “I may have found something.”

 

Legolas quickly joined Elrohir and helped the half-Elf uncover the worn booklet that had
been hidden beneath the mattress. “A diary?”

 

“Maybe… We will examine it later.”

 

Legolas slipped the precious booklet between the fabric of his shirt and was about to
lower the mattress again when something else caught his attention. “What is this?”

 

Elrohir watched how Legolas pulled forth a drawing. A colored drawing, obviously made by
a child. It showed the face of a She-Elf with long, blond hair and warm green eyes.

 

“Can it be that I am gazing upon the face of my grand-mother?” Legolas studied the
drawing closer and found some family resemblance.

 

“You will have to ask your father if you want to make sure.” Elrohir made one last sweep
of the room, but came up empty. “There is nothing else of interest in here.”

 

Legolas nodded once. “Aye, we should leave before the patrol finds the door open and
alerts my father. I do not wish to explain to him why I ventured down here.”

 

Elrohir wisely kept quiet. It was his firm belief that Legolas should confront his father
head on with his worries, but his lover disagreed. “Let us leave this dreadful place.” If
he listened closely enough he heard an angry voice shouting orders through the caves. “I
do not feel comfortable here.”

 

“Neither do I.” Although he was eager to leave the room, Legolas halted on the doorstep.
“I cannot imagine what it must have been like for my father to live here.”

 

Elrohir understood. “I would not have lasted long underground without someone to love and
take care of me.” Certainly not as a child!

 

Legolas took hold of Elrohir’s arm and pulled his lover with him as he stepped into the
corridor. He wanted nothing more than to leave this dreadful place.

 

~~~~

 

Elrond frowned, coming upon his lover and Glorfindel sparring at the training grounds.
These last few days Dûrel had been pushing himself relentlessly, trying to live up to
whatever expectations he thought everyone had of him. Dûrel was desperately trying to be
someone he was not, and Elrond wasn’t going to have it.

 

He felt the urge to tell the two combatants to stop, but in the end, he held back,
watching Dûrel and Glorfindel circle each other. The two Elves were each other’s equals
and each time one landed a blow, the other Elf would follow suit.

 

Dûrel was without any doubt a capable swordsman. Erestor had trained his son well and
Dûrel could fight off any attacker. But it wasn’t his lover’s fighting skills that
worried Elrond – it was Dûrel’s persistent refusal to discuss the fact that he had
inherited Erestor’s ability to have children. Until now, Elrond had honored his promise
not to pressure Dûrel into discussing it, but he was growing tired of playing cat and
mouse.

 

Suddenly, Dûrel lost his footing and Glorfindel immediately ended the mock fight. “Are
you all right, Sire?”

 

“I am fine!” Angry for his lapse in concentration Dûrel pulled away when Glorfindel tried
to steady him. “I am fine!”

 

That was another thing they had to discuss – these last few days Dûrel had been extremely
moody and had verbally attacked not only Elrond, but some of the servants as well. The
healer had noticed that his lover tended to tire more quickly and he had caught Dûrel
massaging his temples more than once. One night, after a very long meeting with his
personal advisors, Elrond had found his lover curled up on the bed, complaining of a
stomach ache. He had brewed an herbal tea, which had only marginally helped to alleviate
Dûrel’s pain. Something was wrong and it vexed Elrond that Dûrel didn’t seek out his help
as a healer.

 

Glorfindel’s eyes sought out Elrond’s gray ones. “Elrond, I do not think he is injured.
My sword never touched him.”

 

At hearing Glorfindel say Elrond’s name, Dûrel looked up and found the half-Elf standing
close. “I am fine! How many times must I say that?”

 

Elrond cocked his head and addressed Glorfindel. “Please leave us. I need to talk to my
mate.”

 

Dûrel raised an eyebrow, being addressed as Elrond’s mate and not as their High-King, as
had become Elrond’s habit.

 

Glorfindel, sensing the upcoming argument, made himself scarce.

 

“Meleth? What has happened to you? You do not seem yourself these days.” Elrond expected
a tirade, Dûrel spinning around and marching away, but instead, his lover seemed to
collapse and Dûrel hung his head in surrender. “I love you,” added Elrond in whispers as
he advanced on his lover. “I always will, but I feel like something is wrong with you.”
Encouraged now that Dûrel was staying and remaining quiet, he succeeded in wrapping an
arm around the other Elf’s shoulder. “Your outbursts make me apprehensive and are unlike
you. You are a kind and warm-hearted Elf.”

 

“There is no way out of it, is there?” Dûrel placed his sword aside and searched Elrond’s
pleading eyes. “You are determined to discuss this?”

 

“Aye, but not here, not in the open. We will go to my study.”

 

Meekly, Dûrel followed, not looking forward to the upcoming conversation.

 

~~~

 

“I cannot read any of it!” Disappointed, Legolas closed the booklet. “I have never seen
this sort of writing before!”

 

They had snuggled up in bed together and Elrohir now picked up the booklet, leafing
through it. Legolas cuddled up him to him and he literally sensed his lover’s distress.
“If what you told me is true, Thranduil might not have felt safe writing in a language
Oropher could read. Maybe he devised his own language? A secret language?”

 

“An encoded language?” Elrohir’s suggestion made sense to Legolas. “But then we still
won’t find out as only my father can decipher it and I doubt he will translate it for
us.”

 

“We might not need your father’s help. I created encoded writing myself, when I was much
younger. Elladan always wanted to read my diary.” Elrohir placed the booklet aside and
pulled Legolas into a tight hug. “Did you speak with your father today?”

 

“Nay, he was caught up in a meeting most of the day.” Legolas rested his head against
Elrohir’s shoulder and smiled, rubbing his cheek against his lover’s skin. “Elrohir…”

 

“Aye?” Elrohir raised an eyebrow, wondering about the odd tone Legolas’ voice possessed.
“What else troubles you?”

 

“We still have to make love,” whispered Legolas, locking gazes with Elrohir. “Why did we
not go all the way yet?”

 

“Because we have time, melethron.” Elrohir pressed a kiss onto Legolas’ hair, which
glowed silver in Ithil’s light. “Our souls are already one and our bodies will follow
shortly. There is no need to rush this.”

 

“Will you always love me?” asked Legolas and for one moment doubt shone from his eyes.

 

“Always, silly.” Elrohir’s fingertips caressed Legolas’ face. “Always.”

 

~~~

 

“Please sit down,” said Elrond, gesturing for his lover to seat himself on the couch. He
poured them herbal tea and then joined Dûrel, who shifted restlessly on the couch. “What
is amiss, meleth?”

 

“I am not completely certain,” started Dûrel in a wavering voice. “I do not know what has
come over me.” He almost doubled over, experiencing cramps and the tea sloshed over the
rim.

 

Elrond quickly rescued the cup and placed it on the side table. Placing one hand on
either side of Dûrel’s head, he forced his lover to look at him. “Has the stomach ache
returned?”

 

“It never left completely. I have been miserable for five days now, though the cramps
were lessening and my mood swings too – until now. ” Dûrel drew in a deep breath. “And
the restlessness remains.” He forcefully freed himself of Elrond’s hold and got to his
feet. Agitatedly, he paced the study.

 

Elrond’s eyes widened as they encountered a red stain on that part of the couch where his
lover had been sitting. The possibility that Dûrel was going through a fertility cycle
had crossed his mind before, but he had dismissed it, believing Dûrel would not keep
something that important from him. /But he must know! How can he not know what is
happening?/

 

“Nay, my words are not completely true. I felt like this once before.” Dûrel came to a
halt in front of the window and overlooked the courtyard. “When I reached my majority.”
But *that* couldn’t be happening again, could it?

 

Elrond slowly rose from the couch, noticing the growing stain on the back of Dûrel’s
green robes. He decided to tread carefully as long as he didn’t know if Dûrel was in
denial, trying to fool him, or simply unaware of the changes happening in his body. For
now he would give his lover the benefit of the doubt.

 

Elrond’s hands came to rest on his shoulder and Dûrel willingly turned around when Elrond
nudged him to do so. “Why is it happening again?”

 

Elrond nodded once. “You finally acknowledge that it is happening again? No more denial?”
The confusion that shone from Dûrel’s eyes told Elrond that his lover still didn’t fully
understand and he ruled out the possibility that the other Elf was putting on an act.
Dûrel really didn’t know what had happened. “Meleth, you are experiencing another
fertility cycle and this time you are bleeding.”

 

Dûrel’s eyes grew impossibly wide, finally seeing the blood that stained the couch. “I am
what?” He swayed on his feet and it was only Elrond steadying arm that kept him from
fainting. “I am what?”

 

Elrond guided his beloved back to the couch and sat him down. “If my conclusion is right,
you are experiencing a fertility cycle, like many She-Elves do. The symptoms are the
same. The mood swings, head and stomach aches, they all match.”

 

“But what does it mean?” The cramps were back and spasms made him want to curl up in a
fetal position.

 

Elrond inclined his head in thought. “I am no expert in this matter, meleth, but I think
it means that your body deems you ready to conceive.”

 

“I… I cannot… I am King! Elrond…” Dûrel trembled. “We discussed this before!”

 

Elrond soothed his lover. “Meleth, this does not mean that you must become pregnant right
now.” And that moment, he realized that he would welcome another child. Another baby to
crawl on his lap, pull at his hair and turn his world upside down. Especially when that
child was his and Dûrel’s.

 

“I am bleeding? I am actually…” Unable to grasp reality fully, Dûrel pleadingly looked at
Elrond. “What do I do now?”

 

Elrond gave his beloved a reassuring smile. “I want you to rest for a few hours.” Dûrel
had driven himself mercilessly these last few days when he should have been resting. “I
shall prepare an herbal tea that will hopefully lessen your discomfort.”

 

“How long will this last?” Dûrel felt entranced and was only slowly allowing the truth
in.

 

“Again, I am no expert in this matter, but I think it will last about a week.” The
problem was that Dûrel wasn’t a female and so his knowledge was lacking. He had never
advised a hermaphrodite before! “We will find out, meleth, together.”

 

Dûrel bowed his head, feeling nothing but shame. He was worthless as a King, and as a
lover.

 

~~~

 

/Nay, stay away from her! Leave her alone! Do not you hurt her!/ Thranduil tossed and
turned, fighting enemies which only existed in his imagination. “Noooo!”

 

The scream woke Lindir from his sleep and he immediately sat upright to check on his
distraught lover. “Thranduil?” Large, doe-like eyes, caught in pain and fear, stared
helplessly back at him. “I am here, Thranduil. I am here.” He loosely wrapped his arms
around his lover’s trembling frame and pulled him close. Thranduil clung to him and big,
fat tears dripped from the troubled, emerald eyes. For long moments he rocked Thranduil
and held him close. At this point, he refrained from questioning his lover about his
nightmare, knowing Thranduil needed to sort out his thoughts and emotions first.

 

Only once Thranduil stopped shaking himself to pieces did Lindir make eye contact. Seeing
the tears in the swimming eyes made his heart contract in pain. “What was your nightmare
about?”

 

“I…” Thranduil’s first reaction was to deny Lindir and to lock him out, but then he
remembered the discussion they had had a few days ago. Lindir was his mate now. If he
didn’t learn to trust Lindir, their relationship, their love would fail. Thranduil rested
his weary head against Lindir’s bare chest and closed his eyes. He concentrated on
feeling Lindir’s arms around him and sighed, hearing Lindir softly sing a lullaby.

 

“Thank you,” said Thranduil, once the song had ended. “Thank you for giving me a moment
to collect myself.”

 

“I believe that discussing whatever haunts you will help you heal, meleth. I really do.”
Lindir continued to rock Thranduil, doing his best to make his lover feel safe and
wanted.

 

“I do not wish to burden your soul with the vile deeds which I witnessed in my past.”

 

“You will only burden my soul by *not* telling me, Thranduil.” Lindir sent a silent
prayer to the Valar, hoping Thranduil would find the courage to confide in him.

 

“I was young … I was about ten… not yet ten…” Thranduil held his breath – he couldn’t
believe he was actually telling someone!

 

“You were but a small child,” said Lindir, soothingly. “What did you see?” Thranduil had
mentioned he had witnessed ‘vile deeds’. Apparently, at least one of them still haunted
him!

 

“I cannot say the words…” Thranduil closed his eyes again and pressed even closer to
Lindir. “I do not know how you will react to learning this horrid truth.”

 

“I will remain at your side and I will continue to love you, Thranduil. Please, confide
in me. I cannot fight invisible ghosts, but I can help you deal with the past.”

 

“Do you really want to know?” asked Thranduil through clenched teeth.

 

“Tell me, meleth.” Thranduil grew even tenser against him and Lindir mentally prepared
himself for whatever grueling revelation Thranduil would make. When his lover finally
spoke again, Thranduil’s voice sounded child-like and extremely scared.

 

“Oropher ordered Saerif to slit my mother’s throat and they made me watch.”

 

Lindir’s eyes almost bulged from their sockets. He had expected something horrific, but
not even in his wildest dreams had he expected anything like this. “Your father did
what?”

 

“Oropher was convinced that my mother was no longer faithful to him, that she had fallen
in love with someone else.” Thranduil’s voice changed again and this time it was an
adult’s voice, hard as steel and unforgiving, that continued. “Saerif slit her throat and
the blood erupted from the wound. Some of the droplets splashed onto my hands and I
fainted. When I woke up again, they had removed her corpse, but the pool of blood still
remained, reminding me that the murder had really happened, that it had not been a bad
dream like I had hoped it was.”

 

Lindir was speechless. What words could possibly comfort Thranduil right now? Instead, he
leaned in closer and gathered Thranduil’s cold and sweaty hands in his. He pressed a kiss
on the palm of his lover’s right hand and then another onto the back of the left.

 

“In my dreams I still see the blood staining my hands. It never washed off.” Thranduil’s
eyes had dried, as he had run out of tears. “Now you know what haunts my dreams.” Well,
at least Lindir now knew of *one* traumatic event that haunted him. Maybe now that the
minstrel understood just how distressing his memories were, Lindir would stop pressuring
him into revealing more of his past.

 

Still feeling at a loss, Lindir pulled Thranduil close and created eye contact.
“Thranduil, I cannot change the past, no matter how badly I want to do just that. But I
can be here for you in the present and fight these memories with you. And, if the Valar
will allow it, I will build my future around you and your love for me. You took that
important first step only a moment ago. You could have shut me out, but you did not. I am
proud of you and I love you so much!”

 

Big-eyed, Thranduil listened to Lindir’s declaration of love. “You will stand at my side?
Face Oropher with me? I am no longer alone?”

 

“Aye, meleth. I will do all that and more. I will love you and keep you safe. In time,
you will realize that the past is just that; the past.” Elrond’s words returned to him –
the half-Elf had told him that it would be like this. “We will face Oropher together and
we will find a way for you to make peace with your past. I promise.”

 

Thranduil raised a shaky hand and touched Lindir’s face, bestowing a rickety caress onto
the skin. “I love you, Lindir. Without you, I am lost.”

 

“It is a good thing I found you then,” whispered Lindir, kissing Thranduil’s brow.
Realizing that his lover needed a moment to compose himself, he sang another lullaby.
Thranduil relaxed against him and the distressed Elf drifted off into sleep again. /I
promise that I will do whatever it takes to help you recover, for I love you, Thranduil./

 

 

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

2  meleth –- love (Sindarin, noun) 

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

 

From the Council of Elrond Quenyan and Sindarin dictionary

 

OC Names:

Dûrel - Dark Star

Saerif – Bitter Bark

Mithrilas – silver leaf – Chief Advisor to Thranduil

Mithlas – grey leaf –Elladan’s horse

Galednel – green elf – Thranduil’s Seneschal

Gaelveril – pale rose – mother of Thranduil

Lhûnel – blue bell – wife of Thranduil

Barandhraug – brown wolf – Captain of Thranduil’s guards

Tharmalthen – golden grass – Thranduil’s chief healer