In the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies, Thranduil finds the world within his Halls empty. He struggles to come to terms with the absence of his only child and the loss of the one he raised as if she were his own daughter. He begins to r...
Struggling with his thirst for vengeance, Thranduil must now find the strength to put aside his personal feelings and balance the need for justice. Will the council agree and vote Lord Tirithiáël guilty of high treason?
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Cleric Séonäis stood silently in the shadows of the Sanctuary observing the motionless figure of the Elvenking as he stood before the hearth, his gaze distant almost vacant as he stared into the flames. Even dressed in a simple blue tunic and dark leggings, with his shoulders squared, his fingers laced loosely at the small of his back, his regal stature filled the room. It was only their mutual gift of empathy that enabled the cleric to feel his presence, but it was the pain in his heart that had summoned him.
"I have witnessed too many of my people slaughtered at the hands of our enemies." Thranduil spoke softly, making no gesture to outwardly acknowledge the clerics' presence. "In the heat of battle I avenged their deaths without thought or concern for the consequences of my own." He said as he closed his eyes against the images that tormented his fäë (soul).
"The taking of a life carries consequences no matter the reason." Séonäis said quietly as he stepped from the shadows to join him before the hearth. "Long ago, when the weight of that crown was set upon your head, you swore an oath as the guardian and protector of this realm. An oath you have never once questioned until now."
"I sense a great conflict within you, it is different for you this time." He continued after long moments of silence stretched uncomfortably between them.
"I cannot hide behind an oath this time." Thranduil sighed heavily, finally turning to look at the cleric. "As much as I believe Tirithiáëls' hands are stained with the blood of Afÿmrails' death as if he had taken his life with his own hands, I cannot set aside my personal feelings, neither can I ask this of another."
"Your mëâtrú (Note) is strong Thranduil, almost too strong." He stated, a slight smile touched his lips as he returned the kings' gaze with a comfort rare few enjoyed. "How many of those lives did you avenge yet many of them you knew not even their name?"
"That is of no matter, they were my people." Thranduil told him, his brow knitted in concern as he studied the clerics' face. "I did not need to know them personally to exact justice for them."
"Thranduil ion nîn (my son)." Séonäis sighed softly, his pale green eyes continued to smile as he watched the play of expressions chase themselves across the kings' normally stoic face. "Do you believe Tauriel to be less deserving of justice because your love for her stirs vengeance in your heart?"
"How can I see this any other way when there is a hatred that burns in my heart for what he has done?" He stated more than asked, his shoulders slumping somewhat as he turned back toward the hearth. "It is a hate that threatens to consume me, not only for Tauriel, but for my son, for all of my people. I cannot ignore the fact that he would consort with the likes of Lochinvar against his own kind. How can I protect them when the very evil that threatens them festers amongst us? For that there burns not a need to avenge but a desire to kill him, something I have never felt before."
