Home

1. The Apple of His Eye

The Last Homely House, The Hall of Fire

Third Age 1049, Thranduil's last visit to Imladris

     The minstrels had finished their songs and the candles had begun to recede to small nubs as the hour grew late in the evening.  The great hearth that stood at the center of the room still crackled and popped with life.  The smaller hearths scattered around the room breathed warmth and glow to Elrond's great hall as a small group of elves were gathered around the elf-lord's table.

     "My Lord Thranduil, how is it you sit before us jovial, all smiles and light of heart when I have heard stories of your cold and often temperamental behavior?" Aerlinniel asked the king teasingly.  He had just finished telling a witty story of the old days, which had those gathered around the table, including her mother and father, Lady Celebrían and Lord Elrond laughing until their sides ached. 

   The king's face was aglow with merriment, his cheeks flushed from wine and the deep musical timbre of his laughter was infectious. He turned to address the young maiden and a smile spread across his handsome face. 

     "Ah, well...I suppose there are many sides to an old king like me.  I cannot deny I may have a tendency to appear detached and on occasion..," he shrugged his shoulders and tossed his head back and forth pondering the word...

     But before he could utter his thought, Lady Celebrían offered innocently, "capricious."

     About that same moment, Lord Elrond subtly added, "insufferable."

     "Cantankerous!" Elrond's son, Elladan feigned he was choking behind his fist.  The table of elves erupted in boisterous laughter and giggling at the Elvenking's expense.

     Without moving his head, Thranduil slid his eyes in their direction with a mocking glare and a slight lift of his right brow and smirked, "I was going to say mercurial."

     "Well, at least the old boy admits it.  There is nothing worse than a surly old king that everyone must tiptoe around, careful not to bring light to his glaring frailties," Lord Elrond quipped before smirking at the Elvenking from behind his wine chalice.

     Thranduil pursed his lips and then narrowed his eyes. Gracefully, he picked up his chalice upon which he then reached an elegant arm toward Elrond and set the cup before him rather abruptly.  His face composed and cool, "I suppose you my friend, are humble and without flaw." He paused for effect.  Lord Elrond's eyebrow quirked as he considered the king's words. 

     "I like to think of myself as the anti-Elrond," Thranduil's smile curved smugly up the corners of his mouth.  "Now would you be so kind as to fill my empty chalice?" 

     Elrond sighed and no one was sure if it was in annoyance or in acceptance of the king's potentially offensive retort. But, he lifted the decanter and filled the king's chalice and topped off the rest of the elves without dispute, leaving the rest at the table to wonder.

     "Truly though my king, I have known you many years now and I have long heard the stories of your temperament and I have yet to see it!"  Aerlinniel challenged him playfully.  "I find you most agreeable and a joy to be around. There is not a better story teller in all of Arda!"  She complimented him, for she truly felt an affinity for the king and enjoyed his visits immensely.

     "He just turns it on for the ellyth, Aerlinniel," Elladan injected matter-of-factly after draining his chalice. "With all due respect my king," he leaned forward setting his chalice down and crossed his arms casually on the table, "I have witnessed your wrath directly and let me just say that the Elvenking is not one to ruffle the feathers of," Elladan brazenly joked. His smile spread crookedly as his eyebrow quirked up, challenging the king.

     Thranduil rolled his eyes and snorted, "Elladan if you would simply follow orders instead of defying them then -"

     "Yes, well Elladan is prone to acting on his own whims in most matters even if he has been given express orders to do otherwise," Lord Elrond chirped wryly.

     Elladan feigned offense at their appraisal of him.

     "Well, you ellyn seem to know how to make a mountain out of a mole hill.  I simply offered our friend, King Thranduil, a compliment and it turned into all this!" Aerlinniel said with a wink at the king.

     Thranduil raised his chalice in her direction and bowed regally in thanks to her kind rescue.  He enjoyed the ally he had in Aerlinniel.  Over the years he found her to be a delightful elleth to be around.  His thoughts momentarily turned to his son.  He wished Legolas could meet her for she was both noble and fair.  Her genuine nature, he found to be rare and her greatest quality. 

     "I wish you could meet my son, sweet Aerlinniel, for I believe you two would have much in common," Thranduil mused. 

     Aerlinniel felt flattered knowing the reverence the king had for his son and the underlying implications of his words. "Really," she queried, "what is he like?" She rested her chin on her palm curious and feeling a flushing in her cheeks which she couldn't be sure but thought may have been the effects of the strong Dorwinion wine.

     She wondered if, Legolas was like the Elvenking himself.  There was no denying she found the king to be an ellon in his own league and she quite liked him. Surly there had to be similarities in appearance and manner.  While she greatly admired the king and even found him attractive, she doubted that the prince would be the type of ellon she'd make a match with. 

     "Legolas?" The king considered his words. "What can I tell you of my son?  He is the apple of my eye," he said, his voice brimming with pride. "He is an outstanding warrior and thus he is the commander of my Woodland Guard.  I wish he could have traveled here with me, but alas it is too risky for us both to travel for long periods away from the Woodland Realm together."

     She nodded in understanding.

     "He is an unparalleled archer, though he is quite adept with knives and swords. He adores the elves and forests of his homeland..." Thranduil boasted. 

    "You forget to mention Thranduil, that he is also very handsome and a kind ellon with wisdom beyond his years," Celebrían cut in and smiled assuredly at her daughter.

    Aerlinniel flushed a little at her mother's words. She pushed the chalice away from herself certain it was the Dorwinion effecting her. 

     She briefly imagined a younger version of the king dressed in warrior attire and she could imagine he was most certainly pleasant to look at.

     It would be impossible for it to not be so.

     It was as if a horn of warning sounded and her heart became guarded ready to protect itself from any unwelcomed intruders.

      "You must be very proud of your son, my lord."  She appeased the king but inwardly Aerlinniel felt the king's description confirmed her assumption that his son wasn't the ellon for her.

Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts and if you're liking what you've read, please vote!