Book II: The Saga of Thranduil

Chapter VI: The Son of the King

Daylight was waning as the sun began its descent below the western horizon. The kingdom celebrated the marriage of Melros and Árendil with abundant gaiety. The joining of two souls is sacred amongst the elves for many reasons but none so beautiful as love.

I stood alone watching the merriment in a darkened corner of the garden not yet lit by a lantern. I was hiding from my father. I could not forget how he looked at me earlier in the day. As I kept to my thoughts, servants began lighting the lanterns. My presence was exposed for all to see. The first to find me was Melros—excusing himself from his wife and family, he walked toward me—his expression more joyous than I had ever seen.

"May I ask why the heir to the throne is hiding away on such an occasion," he asked. "Why do you not seek your beloved? She is here, of course. Wondering where you are."

"You saw my father's face," I said softly. "He suspects something."

"Thranduil," he began taking a drink from his goblet. "You are as subtle as the sun on a cloudless day. The horses in the stable suspect something. The king doubts it is truth, but he suspects."

"Then he should say something. I am his son."

"Sadly, that is your responsibility I am afraid," he said. "She is your love, not his."

"Wasting words on my cousin is like wasting wine," Elranduil said from behind me.

He had come from one of the cellar doors with Fínduin and two servants carrying an enormous barrel.

"Elranduil, good to see you," Melros grinned. "Where is your lovely wife this evening?"

"With my lovely mother and the lovely queen. Speaking about the lovely day."

"Lovely," Fínduin said mockingly. "Then I know where my lovely wife has gone. They are like a flock of geese."

"They sound like one as well," Melros said. "Going on about anything that happens."

"No different than we do, I suppose," I said. "We talk about just as much."

"Hardly," Elranduil said. "We leave out all the intimacies such as a certain young prince was found with a certain maiden locked in a passionate embrace as it were."

"Yes," Fínduin laughed. "I do believe that is how Eleniâth heard the queen describe it. Mother was flushed, naturally. She cannot imagine you were once a little child she had to help Nenduriel prepare every morning since the day you were born."

As they began laughing, I could see my mother approaching. When she was before us, we bowed reverently.

"My dear aunt," Elranduil said, kissing her cheek. "Your son is in a rather peculiar mood tonight."

"I can see that," she said. "Leave us, if you will."

They bowed again and walked away, laughing on their way.

"Mother," I said. "To what do I owe this audience?"

"Eldôr spoke to me of what happened," she said, her once lyrical voice changed to that of a queen. "I hardly find it cause to worry and spend your time avoiding the inevitable."

"What would be the inevitable, Mother?"

"You know well what it is, Thranduil," she said angrily. "Do not feign ignorance with me. If you have not noticed, you are no longer a child."

"I am aware of this," I said arrogantly. "Good of you to notice."

I knew when those words came out, I would regret them. Mother's eyes began to glow as blue flame—her glare ran through me like a blade.