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A Frozen Sun	By : Esequell Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The Views: 2546 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit and I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
There is a musical accompaniment to this story. One night it came on the radio and it struck me as the most perfect description of the mood throughout most of A Frozen Sun. It can be found on you tube. Ralph Vaughan Williams - Five Variants of Dives and Lazarus.
Translations
Forgive me/Sorry - Goheno nin
My Lady - Hiril Vuin
My lord - Hir vuin
My son = Ionneg
My daughter = Iellig
Ungol = Giant Spider

1 - The Weight of Crowns
Thranduil set down his empty wine glass and a lanky, enthusiastic boy named Thandir refilled it for him. He was zealous and energetic boy who was very proud to be in the Kings service, a quality that Thranduil hoped he would lose when the novelty of being his personal man wore off. Steps announced Tauriel's presence. Thranduil did not turn. He gazed through the crystal glass and marveled at the starlight inside, and asked her;
'What news, then?'
'My lord. We have cleared the nest and burned the carcasses. It is unfortunate they managed to get so close. They must have come up in the night.'
'I would have preferred to hear that they have not managed to spawn within the Greenwood at all, Tauriel. But I suppose this will do.'
Tauriel sensed his disapproval. She was as concerned about their infestation as he was.
'Do you not think so?' he pressed her.
'Yes, my lord. We will double our efforts.'
'Sindaroth is our home,' he went on, as if he had not heard her. 'It is an impenetrable refuge, which has worn force and cunning and remained unbowed. It is the source of our strength and a reminder to our enemies of our reputation. Reputation is everything, Tauriel. Even one Ungol within these halls and we will have carnage, and death. Keep them out of our beds and our food and our stores. Keep them off our cattle and horses. If they contaminate our grain before the winter? What then? Shall we starve?' he stepped closer to raise an eyebrow. 'It is your job to protect us!'
'Yes, my lord,' Tauriel bowed her head.
'I am glad you understand,' he nodded. 'See it done.'
'My lord,' she nodded.
'Dismissed,' he said quietly, and turned back to the beautiful room, in which six or seven deep, bubbling pools had been arranged through a cavern floor, fed by hot springs deep under Sindaroth's foundations. Tauriel left a little heavier, a little darker. He was right of course. She did not want to see the elflings go hungry if she failed.
They would stare at my back as if I am the cause, and blame me for their hunger. Tauriel resolved to try harder.
000
That morning, Thranduil had instructed the First Mage to double the warding on the outer walls. That should have been enough to deter such foul evil, but still he went over in his mind the many ways in which an Ungol might infiltrate the caverns. Thranduil was not convinced of their mindlessness as others were. He suspected a fouler purpose, one more akin to the hive mind of bees. He did not want even one of them in here, near his children.
Thranduil sent Thandir to the kitchens with a rolled up scroll which was titled Vegetarian Recipes and began a slow walk to the guest rooms. He no more fancied a chilly night in his chambers without his furs than he did a meal made entirely of vegetation, but it was not worth risking offence, so they would all have to survive on lettuce and cucumbers until the guests were gone.
He stopped on the long walkway. The sound of his footfalls died in the fresh, sweet air. He tipped his head back. A warm breeze was blowing up from deep within the caverns. It stirred his hair and reminded him that it was still warm outside, still summer, even if the season grew late now.
Far above him a circle of tall windows emitted noxious air from the cooking fires and lower halls, all stuffy and warm, to the open world above. Just below them, smaller round portholes brought down cool air to ventilate the cavern system. Where the roots of ancient oaks had pierced the rocky ceiling, a cluster of spectacular creatures lived in harmony, radiated a bright, natural glow. A beacon for spiders he thought, chillingly. We must set an extra watch there.
He went looking upstairs for his eldest daughter, Olerydes. He found only Anion, the boy he had taken in just a year past, piling up furs to be carried down. Anion was a skinny lad who liked nothing more than to climb, and who showed a great aptitude with horses and all beasts. His accent was still rather foreign, even though he now spoke flawless Sindarin. He had been in Mirkwood a year with his Father and a year with Thranduil. Anion had been much quieter since his Father's death. He still suffered awful nightmares and he would often crawl into Thranduil's bed at night, his cheeks wet with tears. It was always the spiders, because they had taken his Ada. Thranduil pitied him but not even a King could control his dreams.
'Bring them down, I will show you where to put them,' Thranduil held out a hand for Anion. As the boy passed Thranduil laid his palm lovingly on the top of his head and Anion smiled. He was only seven. He eased Thranduil's loneliness and tempered his consumption of wine. Olerydes had begged him to stop altogether but Thranduil was neither willing nor ready to hear that advice.
'Why do we move the furs?' Anion asked him, as he descended the great steps carefully, one foot feeling for the next step, one at a time. Thranduil laughed musically and laid another on top to make it even harder. The boy did not complain. He was strong and tough and Thranduil was so proud of him. Anion peered around his burden.
'Because Caduven and his family eat no meat, and we do not want to offend them.'
'Why?' Anion asked, taking a particularly large drop. Thranduil laughed and slid a hand into the furs. He lifted a few away so Anion could see properly, and he carried them while he explained.
'They believe that birds and beasts possess a soul. They do not take lives in case they deprive a soul of further experiences. Do you agree with them?'
'I am not sure,' Anion said honestly. 'I think if animals had souls we would know about it by now?'
Thranduil smiled at him. 'Has the master been teaching you his logic again? Think carefully. If we did not know the shape of the Greenwood we might assume it was square. What if the balloon had never been invented, hmm? Would we know the shape or would we guess it?'
Anion was thinking. He said; 'Guess. Does that mean Caduven is right?'
'Lord Caduven, when he is near you, and no, it does not mean he is right entirely. It means he is careful not to displease his gods for which you must not fault him. However, I have never seen a soul of an animal or an elf so I do not know if we have them.'
Thranduil glanced again the luminescent ceiling. He went on quietly. 'I do not believe their souls are greater than mine, Anion. My life is no more precious to the wretched monsters of this Middle Earth than the life of my horse! My family would defend me, my kinsmen. For the rest I have found it is better not to trust and not to give the benefit of the doubt.'
Thranduil gazed down at Anion, who was listening carefully. 'If you want to show compassion, my boy, do so in the way you think is best. But I have never seen a spider refuse a meal, so neither will I.'
Anion looked a bit worried at the mention of spiders. Of course, at seven, Anion had developed a bit of pride. He tried not to show any fear around Thranduil, who he respected more than anyone, and whose approval now meant everything.
'Anion? We grow stronger by what we eat, do we not?' Thranduil's voice lightened.
Anion nodded. That had been one of his recent lessons too.
'I think Lord Caduven will turn into a leaf,' Thranduil smiled. 'Maybe you will turn into a lion.'
He laid his hand across the boys shoulders. 'Or a rabbit,' he added mischievously.
Anion did not like that. He dropped the furs in one quick shove and launched himself at Thranduil. 'You're a rabbit!' he yelled, over the Kings laughter. Anion was still wrestling him, and Thranduil was letting him win, when Legolas rounded a corner above. He slid down a long bough to pull Anion off Thranduil and set the boy back on his feet with a smile.
'Enough you rabble-rouser! Off you go. Salla has need of you in the kitchens!'
Smirking at Anion's bravery (and the growing strength which had roundly bruised his shoulder) Thranduil hauled himself back to his feet and set his crown straight.
'He grows stronger,' he smiled.
'And wilder,' Legolas said, disapprovingly. Thranduil bent to pick up the furs and handed them all to his oldest son.
'I believe I have seen boys wilder.'
'I was never so difficult,' Legolas argued.
Thranduil gazed at him askance for a moment, then he said softly, 'He has lost his Father, Legolas. His life has been nothing but confusion since.'
'I-' Legolas started to say something but the weight of his Father's disapproval made him stumble. Then Thranduil laid a hand on his shoulder.
'What if you lost your Ada?' he suggested.
'Do not tempt the fates. Ada. Do not even say it!' Legolas said quickly.
Legolas had grown tall, but Thranduil was taller. The boy stared up into his Fathers crystalline blue eyes. There was no one he respected more. The loss of Thranduil was not something Legolas could bear to conceive of. Just thinking of it sent a terrible chill down his spine. Thranduil knew it. He felt the same way every time Legolas tackled a spider, or fought an Orc. Thranduil's instincts warred against his common sense. He wanted to wrap the boy up in wool and keep him safe but Legolas was almost a man now and he would not benefit from his Father's interference any longer.
Thranduil's hand stroked softly down his back to rest at the spot midway between his shoulder blades. All such concerns flew the boys mind. The heat from Thranduil's palm radiated through his thin jacket to wrap around his heart and suddenly he felt comforted and safe, and so relaxed in the familiar security of his Father's presence. Thranduil gifted him with a rare, sweet smile.
'I will not leave you,' Thranduil promised him warmly. He cupped Legolas' face gently in one hand. 'My treasure.'
Legolas gave a tiny, imperceptible nod, as if to say he was comforted. Thranduil wanted to pull his son into an embrace but he spared the boy that, in case his colleagues were watching. He brushed past Legolas. As he descended the steps, his robe trailed behind him like milk. Warmer, happier, Legolas followed him to a storage room. 'In there.'
When Legolas returned, Thranduil was smiling softly as if he had never seen Legolas before. If he was not mistaken, his Ada was about to get nostalgic again.
'How big you have gotten. I remember when I could hold you in my hands like this,' he held them both up to demonstrate. Legolas fairly squirmed. He was still young by the standards of elves, and he did not need reminding that he was yet to prove his ability and maturity in the way his Father had.
'Ada!' he pleaded with Thranduil not to embarrass him.
Thranduil dropped his hands and huffed; 'One day I will get you married and you will see for yourself!'
He strode away. Legolas thought of Tauriel, but said nothing.
000
Up from the south came an elf named Tindaer, traveling a little girl with golden curls whose parents had been lost to Orcs. Thranduil had first thought Anion would not be with him long, since his Mother was like to claim him back. After a short time though she had perished in the cold of her homeland, leaving the boy an orphan. The elven children had given Anion a nickname. Half blood. Anion did not like it. His elven blood was running cold enough towards them now to make him quite a lonely boy. Thranduil felt Anion needed a playmate and friend.
Tindaer climbed to the throne room with the girl on his hip. Thranduil pitied her. She was underfed. Her bones were small and she was a skinny little waif with a great mop of wild, curly hair. How frightened she must have been to find herself uprooted so suddenly. She hid behind Tindaer's leg and would not come out. Thranduil bent to smile at her and then he knelt. He could see only her feet, which were bare and dirty.
'Mmm,' he mused aloud in the common tongue, 'where could the little girl be?'
He moved Tindaer's cloth aside and chuckled; 'So you are not just a pair of feet! Come out and say hello to me.'
When the little girl didn't move. He went on, patiently, warmly, his gaze full of love.
'I am so glad to see you. I have a gift for you,' he produced a doll.
The little girl detached herself from Tindaer's legs slowly.
'Her name is Gwenthel,' Thranduil looked upon her with eyes that gleamed with unshed feelings. How long it had been since he had such a young child around! How nice it would be to be so distracted again. A warm, happy current uncoiled in his belly and wrapped around his spine. It prodded at his heart and suggested he was very close to falling in love. He smiled and brushed his fingers through the child's perfect golden curls. She seemed to like that. 'What is your name?' he asked her.
There was a pause, and when the girl had glanced to Tindaer to check she was safe enough, she said in a very shy little voice; 'Leesha.'
'I am Thranduil,' he smiled and bowed his head, though he didn't expect her to know their customs. Then suddenly, she gave him a pretty little curtsey and he found himself laughing at her sweetness. He smiled warmly and offered her his hand. 'You will be Eryssel, but we will call you Leesha for short,' he said. 'Do you like sweet berries, my Leesha?'
The little girl stepped closer. Thranduil let his eyes flicker closed, just for a moment. He breathed in the scent of the girl and listened with ears so sensitive they could have detected an ant in his bed. Colour flared around her and in an instant he sensed the weariness in her little hands from work, the sorrow for her parents and the blackness in her heart that suggested a grief much deeper than a child should know. Thranduil opened his eyes.
Leesha often glanced behind her to make sure Tindaer was still there. Every time she checked and he had not disappeared she grew a bit steadier. Thranduil filled his hand with berries and held them out. 'I'm sure you have never tried these. They are sweeter than honey.'
Tindaer backed away slowly and went so quietly from the room that Leesha did not turn to look at him. When she did glance back again, Thranduil reached for her hand and drew her closer. His touch distracted her, she seemed to enjoy it. Gwenthel came with her. Leesha was already holding onto her tightly. Thranduil wrapped his arm around her middle gently and sat her on his knee. Leesha took berry after berry from his open hand. Thranduil was right. She had rarely tasted any fruit and she ate them quickly and eagerly, until he laughed at her.
'We will be inseparable, you and I,' said Thranduil warmly, to the back of her head. 'Like the best of friends.'
'I'm cold,' Leesha said, in a shy little voice.
Thranduil reached for the cloak that he had left on the throne and wrapped it around her. He rubbed her back gently, and warmth began to return to her body. Along with it, the feeling of comfort and welcome, and Leesha relaxed. For days she had run and starved and slept in old crates and hidden from monsters. This big elf did not look like a monster and he had warm, caring hands.
'It is so cold outside,' he agreed. 'But we have a special magic in here that will keep us all warm enough, even when it snows. Soon you will feel it and you will be warm again.'
000
Thranduil walked the guest rooms once or twice to ensure nothing had been forgotten. The beds were beautifully made and the aides stood by ready to accept their guests. A scout returned from fifty miles south and reported the caravan was coming. There was nothing to do but wait the day or so that it would take them to arrive.
Legolas helped Anion into his new clothes and Leesha had been given a nap just to be on the safe side. Thranduil had settled himself with a large glass of wine and gathered his family to welcome them.
Legolas was resplendent in his best cloth. Anion stood beside him holding a gift for their guests and upon Thranduil's lap, her fingers recently cleaned of berry juice, Leesha seemed content to play with Gwenthel. She used Thranduil's freshly washed hair to make the doll very beautiful indeed. As Caduven arrived with his family and aides, Thranduil put a hand upon her head and said; 'will you go to Anion, my sweetling?'
She slid off his lap and went smiling to Legolas instead. He put a hand on the top of her head and offered her a small smile that suggested to Thranduil he was entirely lost with what to do with her. Thranduil hid a smile behind his hand. Anion and Leesha had filled a hole in his heart so large that Smaug himself could have flown into it wings spread. Haliel was almost four hundred years in her grave and still Thranduil felt lost without her. Never so whole, either, as when he had someone to care for.
There is noone like your family, Orophers voice cut across space and time to speak words of wisdom to his son. Thranduil remembered this speech from a night waiting for battle. They are everything, past and future, hope for your name. When you are King you find that they and only they, will know you truly. The closer you let them be, the better King it will make you. You do not want to be so alone, Thranduil. It will be hard enough as it is.
There was pause. His Father went on. Do not forget that when you are gone, they will tell your story! Thranduil indulged a small smile that still felt painful, even years after his Father's death.
Leesha tugged on Anion's tunic and whispered that the pretty ladies were coming.
'Shut up!' he hissed, keen not to disappoint their Father or his guests.
000
'Sindaroth,' said Lord Caduven, as they separated from their aides and horses and passed over the bridge and through the great doors into Thranduil's realm. 'The realm of the Elvenking.'
The journey had taken far longer than Phe had anticipated but the sight of the capitol took her breath and her soreness away. In here the air was lighter than outside. In here it smelled of grass and roses, of flowers and freshness. Along the paths the grass grew in little clumps, so perfectly green that her eyes ached to look upon it all. A long and winding green road snaked through rooms so vast they might have come from one of her dreams. They trod walkways carved from the mighty roots of trees. Tall ceilings had been supported by ornate archways and bolstered with columns and pillars.
Waterfalls had carved their way through ancient rock and they cascaded into splash pools and wet-gardens and plunged deep to where the river coursed through Sindaroth's foundations. She could see distant steps in green land, where rice was growing. A great pond dominated the lowest floor. Within it, naked forms went to and fro, playing and laughing, their clothes strewn on the grass and their hair wet.
The roots of great trees had been fashioned and carved into bridges, benches and arbours, doorways and statues. Small trees grew from cracks in the walls and animals dashed to and fro, pursued by floating insects and seeds, which stirred with their passing and went billowing up to seed another generation.
It was labyrinthine and lovely. An indoor forest was just visible through a great archway. It sloped down into the distance. Phe was so excited to see it all. She was aware of the sigil in her hands but she was not looking at it.
It was so much bigger than Phe had expected. A city underground, buried so deep that the sun could not have shone here and yet it was so bright! A light was warm on her skin and suddenly she found her traveling cloak was too hot.
They were lead a twisting path and bought before a throne, which was backed by the largest antlers Phe had ever seen. She had heard tales of his steed, the giant elk he had befriended. She wondered if it was still alive.
Caduven had never spoken very highly of King Thranduil, calling him choosy, arrogant and disobedient to their traditions. Phe was certain her Father would forget these complaints now that he was within the King's halls and at his mercy.
Thranduil was a man whose immense presence was only boosted by his stature. His obscenely long hair must have been an encumbrance in battle. His skin and hair were as fair as moonlight and his piercing crystal blue eyes hinted at a dangerous and penetrating intelligence. He occupied the throne with a complete surety in his position of power, with an air of arrogance that made Phe wonder if he got by on attitude alone. Phe felt a strange sensation come over her on looking at him, like a reassuring warmth and contentment. It was strange to suddenly feel much better and she realized that for one hundred years she had been grieving without end for Rosdaer.
Perhaps Thranduil was so powerful he could take her grief away? She had heard that he had magic but until now she had not put much belief in that. The weight in her guts had eased a little bit and though her heart did not magically mend, she did feel relieved. Phe could see a tall boy who resembled his Father standing beside the throne. He had the same bearing, proud and strong, but a certain innocence too that suggested he was a young man yet, and not quite ready for his Father's crown. There were some children too, but they must have been someone elses. There was no resemblance there, except in the oldest girl, who was dark of hair and eyes but had inherited Thranduil's cheekbones and his height.
Caduven spoke first with a deep, lasting bow.
'King Thranduil, Lord of the Greenwood! It gives me great pleasure to look upon your halls once more.'
Phe could see four rings on Thranduil's hands and one she recognized as the symbol of his power, the white gem his Father had worn before him.
'You are welcome here, Caduven, Lord of the Plains. I am glad to see you arrived safely.'
Oh, what a strange voice you have. Your tone is almost cold and your face is without real warmth but you sound like music, wild and free, and beautiful.
The Elvenking was so beautiful that Phe gazed at him, enchanted by his soft skin and perfect white blonde hair. There was an air about him of great depth and intelligence, hidden behind a mask, and he exuded such power that he made her nervous simply with his gaze.
'We met Orcs on the road my Lord, but they were few in number and dissuaded from serious harm by your own escort.'
'Orcs?' Thranduil sat forward.
'On the Eastern byway. We tried to gain some time.'
Thranduil gestured to one of his guards.
'Take a patrol to the eastern byway and slaughter any Orc you find there. I want their heads returned to me so that I can mount them on the borders of the Greenwood as a message,' Thranduil turned back to his guests. 'Goheno nin, Lord Caduven. We will clear the roads and byways again. There are so many. On your return my kinsmen will escort you.'
'Thank you, my King,' Caduven bowed.
Thranduil addressed them again; 'The nights grow longer and darker, and the cold bites. In the darkness all foul things climb forth, to stain the land and put fear in the hearts of men and elves. May Sindaroth be a refuge for you as it has been for my kinsmen.'
Then Caduven's wife stepped forward to bow and speak. Her hair was the color of the darkest wood and it fell in lovely ringlets to her waist. A few lines about her eyes suggested a lady of advancing years. Thranduil found her very pleasing to his eyes.
'Our thanks, my King. I am Faendis, Wife to Lord Caduven and this is my daughter, Pephennas.'
'Hir vuin?' her voice was as soft as a tinkling stream.
Thranduil turned to see her hiding behind a sigil. He found Pephennas very comely indeed. She had inherited her mothers slight frame and beautiful hair and her Father's dark, mysterious eyes. Along with them, his fine cheekbones. Warmth crept up his spine and awakened a silver thread of desire, a dragon he had not faced in some time. She bowed her head to show him the gems woven into her hair.
Yes, this must be Caduven's only daughter. She is definitely blessed with beauty!
Thranduil rose, leaving behind his crimson cloak to descend like a star made of flesh, whose silent footfalls were ghostly in the quiet.
'Hiril vuin,' he acknowledged her with a bow, his frozen eyes drinking in her face.
'I have felt the growing darkness and seen the beasts who stalk the night. It grows worse with each new moon, and a great Presence haunts my sleep. Is it true, my lord? Does the Power mass beyond the mountains?'
Thranduil thought of his dreams and the great lidless eye that had become more and more prevalent. Olerydes too, with her strange abilities, had detected the coming of a great darkness, hidden from view.
'I would not speak of it before innocence,' he drew closer, as close as was decent. She smelled of jasmine.
'If you know it, my lord, tell me?'
Then she met his eyes and Thranduil felt the dragon open its mouth and fill its lungs, and he was falling without wings. His brow knitted together. He nodded, imperceptibly. 'It lives. I too feel its breath on my neck, as hot as dragonfire. It chases me through a ruined house. There is a Power, and it will soon test us all.'
Phe nodded.
'I feel it draining the land and taking strength from me,' she forced a more polite smile, and tried to take her mind from the shadows. 'I am glad I am not alone.'
She stopped and gazed at her feet a moment, ashamed.
'Long have I desired to see the Greenwood. I only wish I had seen it at high Summer.'
Thranduil inclined his head. What had passed between them now was gone, and Phe felt as if the King could detect her false courtesies.
'Your kind words do your Father honour.'
Phe dropped her gaze, a little embarrassed. But then he went on; 'I would show you high summer, if I had the power.'
He sensed she did not know how to please him but Thranduil was pleased just to look at her.
'Alas, I think you do not have that power, hir nin,' she hid her eyes but smiled widely. 'But do not despair. I will enjoy the Autumn and then the deep sleep of winter, and the sight and sound and touch of Summer will be my hope.'
'That is a unique gift, hiril vuin,' he offered her a thin smile, 'to find hope even in the death of beauty. I wish you would teach me, it would be useful,' he was being wry. Perhaps Caduven thought he was displeased.
'Pephennas, apologise.'
'No need,' Thranduil held up a hand. 'I am not offended by her.'
'There is always hope,' Pephennas said then.
Thranduil found himself amused. He wanted her to raise her chin and reveal her eyes again but she seemed content to stare at his boots.
So this is your plan my lord. You bring me a blushing bride, a rose bud, in return for my favour. If I fall when the Power rises, you will sit firm upon the Summer Isles, for that must surely be your goal.
Thranduil was insulted by the attempted deception but he had expected no less from Lord Caduven, a known craven and liar.
Oh, but you are lovely, my lady, he thought mournfully.
Thranduil gestured to her gown. He had seen the butterflies embroidered on the sash. He spoke on softly;
'Butterflies must fly or freeze at the first sign of Winter. Curling their little toes on cold branches and wishing for fur jackets. How frightened they must be. All perish.'
Phe's heart beat wildly and guilt rose in her gullet, because she found him so comely. Rosdaer would have laughed at her for her naivete and taken her home to remind her why he had married her in the first place. When she dared to meet the Kings eyes a warmth wrapped around her insides and mended her aching heart. He smelled like rain and warmth and he was so captivating that she wanted to lean closer.
'Or weather it under a leaf,' she said with a smile.
Thranduil knew he was being watched. No doubt her Father would be hoping for a quick courtship and a speedy marriage so that he could dip his hand into the treasury. He hoped his eyes were saying what his lips could not. You are lovely, my lady. Know it so that you never lose that grace and hopeful innocence! But I have no desire for another marriage. Yours was a wasted journey. How beautiful you are.
'Hope,' he finally turned back to her Father. 'Is that not why you have come? Hope is built from alliances and loyalty and courage. The elves must come together to defend what they have built. Is that not so?'
'Yes, my lord,' Caduven bowed again. 'We hope you will find value in our contribution. Indeed these are dark times.'
Thranduil's gaze wandered to Phe, who now out of public scrutiny was watching him with interest. A small smile lifted his lips. A slight encouragement. Come to me, he thought. Even if it is only to my bed, where noone can see. She returned it shyly. Thranduil was gratified by her blush, and it woke his body in turn and made him crave the touch of another.
'These are my children. My son, Legolas, Prince of the Greenwood. My daughters Olerydes and Lilia, and Anion who has come from the South to join my house,' Thranduil gestured Anion forward and he came to present the gift, nervously, then Leesha detached from the line up and ran to Thranduil, grinning. She hid behind his overcoat and hugged his left leg. She was warm and had not long woken from her nap. Thranduil bent to scoop her up. He bounced her. She smiled widely at him, filling his heart with a light, airy buoyancy that would have lead him to play like a little boy again just to make her smile.
'She grows bigger by the day. This is little Leesha, who is new to us. Just a few days. She came from a village in the South to be sister to Anion and daughter to my house. Go to Legolas, my sweetling,' he set her down. 'Come, my kinsmen will show you to your chambers! Soon there will be wine and food for your enjoyment and fine music!'
Pephennas bowed and turned away to follow her family and she cast one last look at Thranduil. He indulged one last look at her.
000
Thranduil drank a great deal of wine on the night of the feast. Phe wondered if it was his magic that kept him from falling asleep. It was very hot in the hall and Phe was unused to so many guests. She would have found her horse, Maenith, better company than the Lord and Lady beside her, who seemed to like only to talk about their dogs. She was about to rise when Faendis tapped her arm.
'Pephennas, you must give us a dance! This is your favourite composition.'
Phe nodded in acquiescence and made to rise.
'A dance!' declared the dog-Lady. 'Well! We did not know she dances!'
'I do, my Lady,' Phe rose. 'But I am hardly the best you will ever see.'
Phe did as she was bid. She shed the shawl that had been keeping her shoulders warm and draped it carefully over her cushion. She slipped out of her shoes. She felt their eyes on her and nodded apologetically to the women who had been asked to entertain this evening. When she had begun she chanced a glance at the King, who was watching her with eyes like the Winter sky. He seemed so immovable, so unapproachable and yet his cold gaze put warmth inside her and made her flush. His pointed crown reminded Phe of a weapon. He watched the night proceed as if no part of it could overwhelm him. He seemed stronger than the pillars that held up the caverns. Phe wondered if he truly was, or if a lie told often enough had become his truth.
She danced and enjoyed the sounds and smiles of appreciation and understanding. Some in the audience must have been well versed in the meaning of this dance. Those who were older, or had a passion for dance itself no doubt. When she stopped, her fingers and toes vibrantly alive with exercise, she was greeted by a round of applause. She slunk back to the table, shy.
'An interesting interpretation,' said the King, whose glass was being refilled by a nervous young boy. 'I have never seen that ended in such a way.'
'Did it please you, my lord?' she asked him, nervously, while her heart fluttered.
'It did. But I am confused. Why did the sun not rise again? The Winter Dance ends with light, not darkness my lady.'
'Yes, my lord,' she smiled. 'It is supposed to. The sun did not fail to rise. It rose frozen.'
'Frozen?' he questioned and then he formed his hands elegantly into the same shapes she had made and smiled a thin smile. 'A frozen sun?'
'Yes,' Phe said. 'It is how I feel about the Winter.'
'Apt,' he said. His mouth lifted into a smile that showed his teeth. Phe found herself breathless. 'It does feel as if it will never rise again. But I thought you said you could find hope anywhere?'
'It is not a hopeless ending,' Phe smiled and she made the symbol for spring with her fingers. 'Just the beginning of the next dance.'
Thranduil's eyes tinged with laughter, then he chuckled into his wine. Phe smiled, and continued her meal, pleased with herself.
000
Phe sighed a warm breath into the cool evening. The stars shone like glittering jewels and the forest whispered in its ancient language. There had been no talk of an engagement so far. Phe had expected to be introduced to an eligible young man tonight. She wondered who the lucky elf was.
Perhaps I misunderstood him? Perhaps I was asked here because they did not wish to leave me behind? I may have been too hasty.
Phe did not want to be a wife again. Thinking of it made her belly knot and burn. She felt as if she should cringe away from all love and warmth. She had felt the heat of love for another without reserve and now it had been torn away so suddenly, Phe was sure she would never love again. Her heart lay dormant and lonely in her breast, nursing its broken strings. How she missed Rosdaer, her copper-haired prince. How she resented so much that her life had become.
If nothing else, the elvenking has exceeded my expectations. How soft and warm he is with that girl, as if she were his own kin! If I were to marry again one day, I would wish for a husband every bit as sweet as he is.
She smiled to herself suddenly. And how beautiful too. The way his hair flows is quite captivating...and he looks at me as if he sees through me. He sees through me and does not dislike what is inside. I like him just for that.
Phe nearly yelped when the one she was thinking of made himself known behind her. It was as if she had tempted fate. It gave her a chill.
'Hiril nin. Are you not enjoying my feast?'
Quickly she bowed her head to him but he only laughed.
'I startled you. Goheno nin, my lady!'
'No, the fault is mine, I was far away. I was daydreaming. The feast is magnificent.'
Thranduil chuckled. In his hand, wine as intense as a true ruby. He pointed a finger at her and said,
'I have never heard such careful words. Speak freely to me. Do not be afraid. Tonight is a night for celebration. A night to make friends.'
'I fear giving offence,' Phe bowed her head again.
She felt vulnerable here. She felt as if she was alone without defence. Thranduil blocked the doorway. His shadow was long and broad. Phe did not trust herself not to blush. Then Thranduil moved with the soft hiss of fabric and leaned on the balcony beside her. He set his glass down with a chink.
'Much rides on your visit,' he said, more soberly. 'Your father's reputation. Your mothers. Your own.'
'Yes,' Phe nodded, somewhat relieved that he seemed to understand her position. 'It is hard to bear. I have never been to court before. There are so many people here and I am nervous in a crowd,' she smiled to him shyly.
In a way she wanted to run away now and let someone else please the King. He has shown me favour by coming to speak to me. Phe had read stories of his chopping off heads and locking elves in dungeons for centuries.
'You are burdened,' he said. Then he went on; 'It is not you I study most closely. I do not make alliances with Lord Caduvens daughter.'
'I understand, my lord,' Phe said quickly. 'I am burdened, but it is a necessary burden I must carry honorably.'
'Yes, we all have one of those,' he agreed. 'First it is marriage and then it is duty.'
Phe smiled at the floor. A warm, gentle finger hooked under chin and pulled her head up. Thranduil memorised her shock and searched her face for signs of arousal. He found her breathless and doe-eyed and then her cheeks flushed very red and she licked her lips nervously. His leggings were suddenly too tight, his chest constricted.
'I would have you look at me when you talk to me,' he released her gently. The ghost of warmth persisted on her skin for a few seconds and Phe almost lost her voice.
'Y-Yes, my lord.'
'No doubt you have been informed of my cruelty and malice, and my short temper.'
'Everyone hears stories my lord. I do not always believe what I hear.'
Thranduil cast her a look. Phe felt he was not entertained by her response.
'We all of us believe what our Fathers say,' he said, but before she could defend her family he added, 'It is true. I am malicious to my enemies and cruel to those who would be cruel to me. My temper is short. But you know only the half the story of King Thranduil.'
'You are very different to how I imagined you, my lord.'
'In what way?'
Phe chanced a small smile.
'Wiser,' she whispered.
Thranduil was certain the lady was hiding behind her courtesies. Of course she would, she was a Lords daughter. But Thranduil had little patience for courtesies. They were false and he did not like falseness. Caduvens best and worst were buried in this girls personality and Thranduil would find that window very useful, if he could just open it.
'You too are different,' he agreed. 'More beautiful.'
Phe felt his gaze linger on her lips. Once it dived into the shadows between her breasts.
'My books made you handsome but they did not do you justice, King Thranduil.'
Thranduil only smiled and with a bow of his head he was about to speak, when he heard a raised voice buried deep within the noise of the feast.
'Forgive me,' he said.
He left to seek out Leesha. She was fighting with Anion. Thranduil could feel Phe's gaze on his back. He scooped the little girl up and chanced a glance at the balcony. Phe was still gazing at him. Satisfied in her desire for him, Thranduil dropped his face to Leesha's hair and said unhappily;

'To bed with you, you have been making trouble behind my back.'
Then as he carried her up the stairs, he willed the Valar silently; Do not ask me. Do not make me refuse her. She is beautiful, but naive. And there are secrets in that family. I do not care for secrets.

A/N - A few notes.
Thranduil is based on the movie, not the book.
Most of the names were generated by the elf name generator at elfnamegenratorfun dot com (For generating your Sindarin elf name.) A google search will turn up the name generator if you wish to use it.
Translations taken from arwen-undomiel dot com ( wont let me post a full link to credit them) but again a google search will turn them up.
No copyright infringement intended ;) Happy reading and please drop a review if you can.
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A Frozen Sun