An unfamiliar sense of dread had been curling up in his chest since that morning. The feeling was so dense that Thranduil woke up earlier than usual from a hard-earned reverie, with a headache threatening to burst behind his eyes. The first thing he did after waking up was to check on his children. Legolas had arrived from patrol duty in the early morning hours and was resting, as he was told. Erenien had departed with her team and she was at a good distance away from their border, hence away from any apparent danger. Though that girl has a penchant for running into danger...
But that thought was placated by the knowledge that she was not alone and had trained warriors like Findir with her. Still, thoughts of danger lingered in his mind, as a weight on his head throughout the breakfast and into the following hours of council meeting. His thoughts ever strayed to his daughter even when they were discussing various matters of the state. If his chief councillor noticed this absent-mindedness of his king, thankfully he remained silent. Hence, the discussions continued for hours and hours well into the afternoon with Thranduil's mind wandering elsewhere.
When a haggard warrior staggered into the council room, his worst fears were proven true.
Thranduil's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the ellon, yet he managed to show none of this inner turmoil on his face. His mind was racing and his heart pounding beneath his chest so that initially he heard only a few words.
Forest...Gollum... Escape.
The messenger was detailing the fight and his demeanour went from composed to rigid with anger and loss. All blood left the king's face when Erenien was mentioned.
"She is unhurt, my lord." The messenger quickly added, seeing his distress.
"You may go and rest," he sent the messenger away without any further enquiries.
Thranduil exhaled softly, and looked around the room, into the alert faces of his councillors. All of their attention was on him.
"Gather our forces and intensify their training. Get them ready as quickly as you can," he turned to Tauriel. She answered with a sharp nod.
"Such a mishap from our side... Mithrandir must be informed," his chief councillor rubbed his temple and Thranduil couldn't agree more. Findir came in after an hour, all the signs of the battle gone along with his armour. His visit clarified what the messenger had earlier managed to deliver. Their border had been breached and Gollum had been captured quite easily from their grasp. Gollum was a key witness in the whereabouts of the ring, and they were at a disadvantage. They had failed those who trusted them.
At the end of the council, it was decided to send word to Lord Elrond in Rivendell, who had the best chances of informing the wizard. Legolas appealed to go as their messenger and was hesitantly approved by the council, strange though it was to send the prince himself. Thranduil had wanted to object to the decision. But he looked at Legolas, and saw that he was no longer a child to be protected by him but a skilled warrior. Hence, he kept his silence as his son asked for his blessings at the end of the council to prepare for his journey.
***
He found his daughter in the garden. She sat on the stone bench, her back arched forward and shoulders drooping, golden curls fallen over her face - a defeated warrior. Her lips trembled like a scolded child when she met his glance. His glance went through her slumped form, quickly assessing for any injuries. The bruises on both her wrists flared a new kind of anger in him. Findir had mentioned disarming and forcefully holding her when she insisted on following the assailants. But this... this was his child, their princess, not some animal to be forcibly put down.
Jaw tightened and lips pursed, he watched her. Fresh streams ran down her cheeks and there was fear in those green eyes. Thranduil was taken aback. Never had she been afraid of him. Apprehensive sometimes, but there had never been fear in their bond. He must have looked seething to cause such a reaction. Thranduil knelt and quickly took both her wrists in his hands. Wordlessly he gently ran his thumbs over the bruised skin. Erenien looked into his eyes, like a child half expecting to be scolded and like mist of dawn, fear left her eyes. Thranduil didn't know how to pacify her. But he knew, deep in his mind, that if he had been in her place and as long as he hadn't been tied down, he too would have rushed to save a friend.
***
His face wore a solemn mask as he presided over the funeral. One by one, the brave warriors of Mirkwood were laid to rest. The crowd surrounding him wore expressions similar to his own, dry eyed and composed, except for some whose eyes were glittering with welling tears. Yet no tears were shed that day, at least not openly. As the funeral song ended and the living paid farewell to the dead, wishing peace and happiness forevermore in distant shores, ten mounds remained. The crowd left one by one with Feren, Laerdil and Erenien remaining. At last Feren crumpled to the ground, weeping openly. Laerdil held an arm around him, as his body wrecked with violent sobs. To her own surprise, Erenien's eyes remained dry.
Traitor... Oathbreaker
That was what she had become. "You killed your friend. You killed Anwel!" Eiliandil seemed to whisper in her mind. Without so much as taking a glance at the two forms kneeling on the ground, she turned on her heels and fled.
YOU ARE READING
The Eternal Starlight
Fanfiction"I cannot raise a child!" Thranduil said aghast. "What she needs is a mother and a father- a proper family," he sighed. "Maybe she has found them in you..." It was said that after the death of his Queen, the Elven king became bitter and cold. Everyo...
