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Scarred Fate	By : Massanie Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2051 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 36
- 37
- 38
CHAPTER 37: Havoc In The King's Halls

CHAPTER NOTES

SCRIPTS:

'Thoughts'; ~visions~; **mind speech**; -l-Letters-l-

Silence reigned in the king's halls. Thranduil sat on his throne, the noble head resting on his folded hands, graced with a crown of green summer leaves.

"Is the peredhil family in danger?"

"We do not know for sure, my lord. But there has not been any news of our sentries on the High Pass. We should have received their report three days ago, but none came."

Every week the sentries in the northern parts and on the High Pass sent note to the king's halls, an arrangement that kept the king and his advisors up to date on the happenings in the more dangerous parts of Mirkwood and its surrounding areas. If the communication broke it meant that either the outpost had been destroyed, or the bird had been intercepted.

"Although I do not like him in particular, we cannot afford to lose Elrond to some orcish scum. I want you to take twenty soldiers and investigate. If they do not find anything, let them venture to Imladris and see if Elrond has arrived safe and sound."

The young advisor Thranduil had addressed nodded and hurried to the doors to pass on his liege's orders to the guards. But just as he reached for the doorknob the large wooden door flew open and a servant entered, the green robe he wore billowed behind him as he strode into the hall and up to the king, bowing before him.

"My liege, there has been message from the Old Ford with the seal of prince Legolas."

Raising a fine eyebrow, Thranduil reached for the small piece of parchment and carefully broke the seal of red wax, showing the insignia of his house.

-l-

Elrond and Glorfindel returned. Erestor kidnapped.

Leading them to the northern outpost. Soldiers there probably involved.

-l-

"WHAT?" the king exclaimed infuriated.

"Stop Elrond's search party!" Waiting for a servant to leave the room and execute his order, he turned to his advisors, staring at them with eyes of fury.

"Is Brandon still at the northern outpost?"

"Yes, my liege, visiting his family. He is not due to return for another two months."

That was no coincidence, even though Legolas had not mentioned the name, Thranduil was well aware that Legolas hated the advisor and was therefore susceptible to whatever nonsense those damned Noldor had told him.

How could Elrond dare to accuse one of his eldest advisors?

"Lord Elrond saw fit to all but accuse members of Brandon's family of kidnapping lord Erestor."

There was a sudden burst of angry exclamations and curses as some of the king's advisors – ever alert to their king's moods – mirrored his anger carefully, even if most of them, too, held a strong dislike for that ruthless sleaze.

"They convinced my son to lead them to the northern outpost."

One of the senior advisor's thoughtfully laid a single finger to his thin lips; the peredhel lord was no fool and if he really had accused Brandon of a crime that serious, he would never have done so without proof. Never would lord Elrond further endanger the relationship between their two realms without reason.

"If I might be so bold, my liege: Send a convoy to investigate. Take lord Elrond's accusation seriously and show your goodwill."

"I can and will not stand by while that Half-Elf accuses my advisor's of kidnapping his lapdog!"

Behind the king one of his personal guards straightened and stepped forward, a serious expression on his face. It was a handsome Silvan with sunburnt skin and friendly eyes; but his muscular form and serene bearings betrayed his physical and psychical strength.

"In all likelihood the Noldor will embarrass themselves and therefore be a little bit more forthcoming in future dealings." The senior advisor tried to reason once again, just as the soldier had rounded Thranduil's throne and gracefully bowed in front of his king.

When the soldier had rounded Thranduil's throne he gracefully bowed in front of his king. "I would volunteer, my liege, to accompany the advisor."

Thranduil pursed his lips. Thalion was one of his best and most faithful soldiers, and over the long years that he had served him had become a friend he could rely on, but this behaviour was highly suspicious. "And why is that, Thalion? You belong to my personal guard, this task would not fall into your field of duties."

"Erestor is the adoptive son of lord Dírhael, who was and always will be a friend of my family. If Erestor is missing, I would like to be counted among those who search for him." Boldly looking straight into his king's eyes, Thalion hoped the king would not question him further. He had no intention to reveal to the whole council that Erestor had been raped by his relatives when he had still been little more than a child.

Leaning back, Thranduil regarded his friend. Thalion was withholding something from him, of that he was almost sure. But he was equally sure that he could trust his friend unconditionally. If the information was essential, Thalion would share it and after all, his subordinates were entitled to some privacy. And he could feel the other's anxiety, though he could not understand it.

"Well then, arrange for a suitable party. I give you leave to act at your own discretion, but keep me informed."

Thankfully Thalion bowed deeply, aware of how much trust his king put in him by allowing him such freedom of action. "I will return as soon as possible with the prince and our guests."

"And please be diplomatic and don't let yourself be infected by that Noldor nonsense. I value Brandon's counsel."

Looking up to his friend and king, Thalion nodded. "I will not fail you, my lord."

Afternoon, the same day

Thranduil drummed his fingers on his large desk, the paper in front of him waiting to be signed; the young advisor standing next to him waiting for him to sign it so he could place the next one in front of his king, having that signed, too.

How Thranduil hated that procedure. And moreover he felt his thoughts wandering from this epitome of madness to those Noldor lords running loose in his realm for Legolas, as much as he loved him, was too young, too impressionable to keep legends such as Elrond Peredhel and Glorfindel of Gondolin in check.

Sighing Thranduil turned back to the matter at hand, knowing that Thalion would get the precarious situation under control. "I am sorry, what was this about?"

Pursing his lips, the young blonde raised an elegant eyebrow at his liege's unusual state of distraction, before he politely but decidedly addressed his king. "The instructions regarding the augmentation of the southern regiments. We discussed it this morning as you might remember."

Smiling apologetically, Thranduil signed the order with a sweeping movement of his eagle quill just as a servant entered the spacious chamber, rushing right in front of his desk.

"My liege. Mithrandir and two great eagles have entered Greenwood. Master Mithrandir is currently ..."

In that very moment, said wizard entered the room with his coat billowing behind him. Immediately all heads turned to the newcomers, except the messenger still standing before Thranduil with a contrite expression.

"... on his way to you."

Thranduil looked quite flabbergasted into the Maia's determined face as the old wizard stood in front of his desk, rising to his full height.

"I need your help immediately, old friend."

"Mithrandir! What happened?"

"Erestor has been kidnapped and brought to the northern outpost near the Great River. I need some of your men to get him out of there before they kill him!"

Thranduil narrowed his eyes; now that Istar had finally lost the last sane thought, replaced by that peredhel's insanity.

"My. Dear. Old. Friend." He stressed every word, leaning back in his chair as he did so. "Did you by any chance speak to lord Elrond?"

"Thranduil, I have no time to explain but Erestor is there! If I try to do this alone ... they will surely kill him before I can get to him ... I beg you, Thranduil, and you know I seldom beg, I need your help."

The advisors around Thranduil curiously stared at their king. Some of them smiled blatantly, others were whispering to each other on the quiet. The king saw this with growing indignation. Yes, Gandalf behaved strange but he would not let an old and true friend like this wizard be humiliated at his court.

"SILENCE!" he called out, and the irritation in his voice stopped every sound in the large office for some moments. Then he turned again to the old wizard standing in front of him with a frown marring his face.

"Mithrandir, what by Mordor's depraved creatures are you trying to tell me? Elrond is out there, too, with my son, to find his chief advisor without clarifying his intent. Could you please explain the sudden turmoil around this lord Erestor?"

"Erestor hails from Mirkwood and now has been kidnapped by his family, the very elves he fled from four centuries ago, and I need your help to get him out!"

This time Thranduil tolerated his advisor's giggling, a bad sign. "You want me to believe that the ellon with the blackest hair in all of Middle Earth belongs to *my* people? Highly unusual colouring for a Silvan, wouldn`t you say so, Mithrandir?"

"Thranduil" Gandalf began in an almost threatening voice, "he is only half-Silvan."

The king leaned back in his arm chair, disquieted at his friend's obvious unrest. If the Maia was in such a state it was better to take him serious, especially when Elrond and he independently claimed the same; and still he was not yet ready to believe their fantastic story.

"So a Silvan elf – a member of lord Erestor's family - with very good relations, or else he would not have succeeded in this endeavour, kidnapped lord Elrond's chief advisor? For what reason would anyone risk the danger of being outcast?" He asked sceptically.

Gandalf was short from boiling over. Why did they have to tell the same story over and over again? Why couldn't those naive Firstborn do what they were told, no *asked* to do, just once?

"As I said before: He is only half-Silvan. And his powers are what his kidnappers want."

Suddenly his beard dwindled into his chin, the wrinkles around his eyes smoothened. Gasps and whispers cut the air as the Maia's long silver-grey hair darkened to an inky black.

Moments later a tall, lean but muscular ellon stood in front of the king of Greenwood, pale with hair as black as the night's sky, towering over the elves around him, surmounting them in grace, beauty and power.

"And the other half of him is Maia. And I want my son back! Now, Thranduil! Or I will guarantee for nothing."

CHAPTER END NOTES

ellon ~ male elf

peredhil ~ half elves

peredhel ~ half elf
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