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Lorinand Memoirs: The Bough Breaks	By : Avaloyuru Category: +Second Age > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 2207 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any form of copyright to Tolkien’s world, Middle-Earth, or associated characters or the Middle-Earth Fandom. I receive no form of compensation monetarily or otherwise from this work of fan-fiction

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
“I miss you already.” Húriön said quietly as he hugged his friend tightly, blinking back the tears that threatened.
“I will not be gone forever.” Galion said softly as he hugged him back. “The king is stubborn but he will not abandon his son.”
“I still don’t understand…”
“That child is the future of this realm.” Galion interrupted him sternly, pulling away slightly as he took his face in his hands. “This world is changing, we may not be a part of it but we cannot ignore it.”
“Do not be sad.” Galion continued softly, smiling at his friend. “Now I must go, I have things to do before I return to him. He tries so hard to be strong but his heart has been sorely wounded. Today will be difficult for him.”
Nodding in agreement, Húriön could do nothing but watch as his friend quickly departed from him. The hour was still far too early for him to concern himself with attending to the king yet too late to return to the comfort of his bed.
Moving silently but quickly through the halls, Galion made his way to the back entrance to the kitchen. Waving his normal morning greetings to the few elves that had gathered to begin their preparations for the morning meal, his eyes scanned quickly for Alythiyiá.
“I packed all of his favorites.” She said quietly, her voice cracking slightly as she greeted him.
“Oh don’t you start too! Everything is going to be fine.” He told her, hugging her tightly. “We will be back before you know it.” He added quickly, kissing her cheek.
“Be safe.” She whispered as she gave him a tight squeeze, a worried frown marking her brow as she watched him hurriedly disappear out the back entrance.
“Faÿláën!” Galion called out as he entered the kings’ stables.
“Ayë!” (Yes) He answered back as he popped his head out of Maeglirs’ (Thranduils’ steed) stall. “Back here!”
“Everything ready?” Galion asked, hurrying toward him.
“The rumors were true, the king has ordered the carriage be readied. He will have it sent to the back entrance when you are ready to leave.” Faÿláën said quietly as Galion reached the stall. “The others are grooming the coach horses now. But I did as you asked.” He added with a big smile.
“Good! Put this in Maeglirs’ bags.” Galion stated as he handed him the bundle from Alythiyiá. “Everything has been loaded in the buck wagon. We will not need the carriage, the prince will refuse to even get in it anyway. You just make sure that wagon and these mounts are at the front to greet him. Now I must be off to see to the Prince.”
While he personally had no desire to deal with the king this morning, in his heart Galion hoped and prayed that he would at least put in an appearance for the sake of his son. It had been so long with not a word from his father as they waited for Thranduils’ bruises to heal. There had been no way to conceal the young prince’s absence. The tension within the halls had been palpable yet Galion found it remarkable the gossips had stayed their tongues during his absence. Galion knew it was wrong to change the kings’ orders, yet he knew Thranduil would not stand for it.
“The king?” Galion asked the guard as he entered the antechamber that divided the two royal chambers.
“He has already sent for his morning meal.” Rûingäraf answered quietly, his expression full of concern. “He also sent word that he would not be needing Húriön this morning.”
“I see.” Galion sighed deeply. “This is not a good sign.”
“In time he will come to regret his anger.” Rûingäraf said reassuringly, reaching out to gasp Galions’ shoulder. “There is still love in him for his son.” The guards’ eyes filled with sorrow.
“What of Thranduil?!” Galion stated, his eyes flashed with anger.
“The Prince has you.” Rûingäraf stated, his expression turning to one of concern as he leaned a little closer. “They are both stubborn in their own ways. Perhaps the distance between them will make the king see that.”
“Or drive them further apart.” Galion sighed as he struggled to collect himself before facing the prince. “Either way, there is nothing to be done about it now.” He added as the guard opened the door for him.
Pausing briefly as he entered, Galion listened for any signs of movement within the chambers. It was deathly quiet and slightly unsettling as he hurriedly went about the task of lighting the small lamps before heading toward the princes’ bed chamber. While the hour was still very early he had expected Thranduil to at least be up and about as he was not known to be late in his sleeping. Lighting the small lamps throughout the room, he frowned as he noted the bed covers were thrown back yet there was no sign of the prince.
“Thranduil?” He called out as he walked toward the bathing chamber only to find it empty as well.
“I needed a little fresh air.” Thranduil stated clearly as he walked back inside from his private garden. “Where did you think I had gone?” He added as Galion appeared suddenly from the bed chamber, the sarcastic tone of his voice softened only somewhat by his smile.
“Do you want something to eat?” Galion asked, observing his movements as Thranduil walked gracefully toward the hearth. The dampness of his hair told him that he had already bathed, brushing it out and arranging it for him should not take long.
“There is no need.” Thranduil replied as he sank into one of the chairs. “I have already put the kettle on the hearth and I believe there is still some of Alythiyiá’s cinnamon bread in the tin on the table. That should be fine.”
Smiling to himself Galion set about the task of preparing the cups for tea. There was more than enough of the cinnamon bread for the two of them as well as honey. He had made sure to leave the extras in the room after each meal, although he had noted that Thranduil barely touched any of it for the most part.
“If we leave shortly after first light we should arrive just before midday tomorrow.” Galion said as he brought him a cup of tea and a small plate of the honeyed cinnamon bread.
Although he smiled as he accepted the plate Thranduil remained quiet, his thoughts turning to the sketches in the books he had requested Galion bring him. It was not that great of a distance yet he saw no need to push the guards or the horses, he was concerned that most of their journey would be across open grasslands. There had been no signs or reports of trouble on this side of the Misty Mountains, making camp without the cover of the trees could still be risky.
“There has been no word from my father as to the number of the accompaniment.” Thranduil finally spoke, his gaze still lingering on the dancing flames in the hearth. “We have much open ground to cover once we leave the forest.”
“I would not worry on it too much.” Galion said quietly as he rose to his feet. “I will lay out your traveling clothes. There is still time but don’t tarry too long.”
Smiling to himself as he left the prince to his thoughts, Galion set about laying out the new set of riding clothes he had secreted into the room the other evening. Patterned after the uniforms worn by the forest patrols and made for traveling on horseback, the mid-thigh length tunic buttoned down the front with a slit up the back, with long full sleeves as was the princes’ favorite style. The high ornamental band collar would accent his slender neck very nicely. Dyed to his favorite color of deep forest green, the silk was accented with silver stitching along the seams and adorned with elaborate embroidery in silver thread of the Crest of the Woodland Realm just beneath the shoulder lapels on each side of the front and a larger one emblazoned on the back. The seamstresses had also made him a riding cloak of the same colors embroidered with a single large crest in the center of the back.
“Thranduil.” Galion said quietly as he returned to the sitting room to find the prince still gazing into the hearth. “It is time.”
“So it is.” Thranduil sighed as he pushed himself up from the comfort of the chair. He smiled appreciatively as he walked toward the servant who had become his shadow, his friend and now his lover.
“What is this?” Thranduil asked, his eyes widening as he touched the tunic almost reverently, his fingers tracing the beautifully intricate embroidery of the crest. He knew each and every tunic and robe he owned and had no recollection of such a beautiful color and craftsmanship.
“It was intended to be a gifting to you at the Autumn Festival of Lanta`Eostra.” Galion told him as he walked up to him. “Thranduil.” He paused, searching those beautiful eyes for a moment. “It is not that the king is disliked, quite the contrary, in most ways we are happy with him. Yet, we adore you and wanted so much to show you this.”
“It is a beautiful gift!” Thranduil said, his voice almost a whisper as he continued to run his hands over the softness of the silk, examining the embroidery and the tiny silver buttons down the front and on the cuffs of the sleeves.
“The hour grows late.” Galion told him as he turned away from him to collect the pale green thin cotton leggings he had laid out on the bed. Properly woven silk was thick and could prove uncomfortably warm during the milder seasons, the cotton under garments allowed the flow of air to the skin preventing overheating.
Smiling to himself as Thranduil quickly discarded his robe, he was happy that he allowed him to assist him. Although he had offered numerous times, it was something that seemed to make the prince uncomfortable, preferring to dress himself.
“It is perfect!” Thranduil exclaimed, watching in the tall mirrored glass as Galion assisted him, admiring the way it draped over his body, accenting his slender form. “How will I be able to thank them for this?” Thranduil asked as he obediently sat in the chair in front of his dressing table.
“Seeing you wearing it will be enough.” Galion told him as he began the pleasurable task of brushing out his long silvery blonde tresses. “You look so beautiful in it.” He told him, meeting Thranduils’ gaze in the mirrored glass of the dressing table.
Both fell silent yet Galion could feel the young prince’s eyes on him as he brushed out his hair and began the task of creating the intricate braids above each ear and drawing them together in the back, weaving a third braid down the length of it. Galion knew the young prince was aware that his life had changed, he could feel the uncertainty within him. He knew as well there was nothing he could say to him that would ease the pain in his heart, as it was something that would only come with time.
“You will make a fine ambassador for the Woodland Realm.” Galion stated, his eyes shining proudly as he handed the silver circlet to him, watching as he positioned it on his head. “Come now.” He chuckled, patting his shoulders lightly. “I will make us another cup of tea while we wait.”
Thranduil rose to his feet, pausing for a moment not only to admire the new riding clothes, but to reflect on Galions’ words as he gazed into his own eyes. This was his home, for as much as his father had tried to separate him from them, he had in truth grown up among the Silvan elves and in many ways felt far more of a kinship among them than he did with many of those who shared his Sindarin heritage. These were his people and it was for that reason that he disagreed often with his fathers’ politics in their private discussions. Somewhere deep inside he knew the recent events marked a turning point in his life yet he had no awareness of the direction the fates had chosen for him. Collecting the riding cloak from the bed, he entered the sitting room.
Smiling as he observed him, Thranduil seemed taller as he strode decisively toward him, with his head held high. His expression was guarded, not quite the closed indifferent attitude he had adopted over the last several days, yet still unreadable. There was something in his gaze that had hardened, reflecting a purpose that had not been there before.
“I do not wish to wait.” Thranduil stated as he laid the cloak over the back of the settee. “I would like to speak one of the guards.” He added as he continued toward the boot rack by the hearth, watching as Galion hurried quickly to carry out his wishes.
“My Lord?” Thalieth inquired as he entered the sitting room.
“Please inform my father I wish to speak with him.” He stated without looking up as he pulled on his knee high leather riding boots.
“The king has stated that he is not to be disturbed.” Thalieth informed him, his tone firm but respectful. His eyes widening slightly as Thranduil rose to his full height, his eyes narrowing only slightly yet the full force of his will radiated from them.
“I suggest you take whatever measures you see fit to convince him otherwise.” Thranduil stated, his tone was calm yet firm, brooking no argument. “Or I shall be forced to break down his door.”
“As you wish.” Thalieth stated, bowing as he turned on his heel and quickly departed the room.
“I have decided that I do not wish to make camp unless it is absolutely necessary.” Thranduil said quietly as he picked up the riding cloak and turned toward Galion, his expression softening considerably. “I want to be in Lórinand before or shortly after nightfall this evening.”
“What is the meaning of this?! How dare you summon me!?” Oropher demanded as he burst into his sons’ chambers.
Visibly taken aback as he stopped only a few feet into the sitting room, his face revealing his shock as he stared openly at the glorious image of his son. Thranduil stood there before him with all the regal airs of a king, his shoulders thrown back in a commanding stance that dared any to defy him. The beautiful face now cold and as unfeeling as a stone statue, his chin lifted in a slight but clear display of defiance, yet it was his gaze that seemed to scorch him to his very core.
“I wanted you to see me just once before I leave.” Thranduil told him silently as the two stood there for long moments staring at each other.
“I believe it is only respectful that I inform you of the time of my departure.” Thranduil stated far more calmly than he felt, his gaze never wavering as he stared defiantly at his father.
“I will summoned the carriage and company to the back entrance.” Oropher stated, collecting himself quickly as he continued to meet the cold stare. His heart was filled with much pride in the change he saw in his son, yet he would not allow him to see it.
“Really.” Thranduil laughed, a hollow sound that held no humor but rather dripped in sarcasm, his clear sapphire eyes widening only slightly as they challenged him. “I will not skulk about like a thief in the night or a lowly scullery servant in a back halls of my own fathers’ house.” He continued, his tone was clear and firm as he walked toward him. “I will send word once we have reached Lórinand.”
Striding past the silent figure of his father, he looked back only to insure that Galion followed. Without so much as another glance toward his father, he strode purposefully toward the west corridor that would lead them to the main entrance of the palace. Thranduil struggled to control his anger while Galion followed a step behind beaming with pride.
“Thranduil wait!” Galion grabbed his arm to stop him before he reached the main door.
“What is it?” He asked, frowning deeply as he turned to look at him.
“I have not said anything because I did not wish to upset you further…”
“Galion, what is it?” Thranduil asked impatiently, his expression revealing his frustration.
“I believe by now there is probably quite a large good crowd outside that door waiting to wish you well.” He blurted out quickly, feeling more than a little nervous as he watched the different emotions chase themselves in the depths of his eyes.
“We will discuss this later.” Thranduil told him, not sure what to make of the situation but he was thankful Galion had stopped him as it gave him the opportunity to collect himself a bit. “Shall we?” He added, waving his hand toward the large double oaken doors.
Even with the brief warning Thranduil was completely unprepared for the mass of Silvan as well as Sindar elves that nearly ran up the few steps onto the broad platform just outside the main doors. Many of the Sindar elves were approximately his height while the Silvan elves were only slightly taller than adolescent human children to him as they swarmed around him. Quickly handing the riding cloak to Galion, he turned to greet them.
“Oh my stars!” He exclaimed as so many began talking to him all at once and reaching out to touch him. Impulsively he leaned down attempting to speak directly to each one of them as he hugged the ones he could reach.
“Everyone please!” Arthädión called out over the rising sound of their mingling voices, even waving his hands to get their attention. “Give the Prince some room!”
“It is quite alright Arthädión, really.” Thranduil laughed casting the older elf a sympathetic smile as he noticed the clear frustration on his face.
“Thank you all for this wonderful greeting at this early hour!” He stated, the clear tone of his newly found voice carrying easily across the courtyard. “I am truly honored by your gift.” He told them, placing his hand on his chest as his eyes scanned the many smiling faces, all of them filled his heart with joy.
“We came to wish you a safe journey hîr vuin.” (My Lord) Arthädión told him as he made his way through the crowd toward him. “We worry, neither you nor the king have ever departed from here since your arrival.” He added as he reached his side, the previous frustration now replaced with concern on his face.
Nodding, Thranduil turned to face the large group of elves that stared back at him in anticipation of some word from him. “I have to say I was not prepared to give a speech.” He stated, a huge smile nearly splitting his face as he glanced over their anxious faces. “I assure you there is no reason to be concerned. I merely journey to visit with our friends in Lórinand as an Ambassador of the Woodland Realm. I will return, of that you have my promise.”
Thranduil continued to hug them and talk to them as he made his way down the steps toward Maeglir who tossed his mane and pranced a bit as he reached him. “I know, I have neglected you lately and I am sorry my friend.” He told him as he wrapped his arms around the stallions’ strong neck.
“Thranduil.” Galion said quickly to get his attention as he handed him the cloak.
Nodding toward him as he accepted it, throwing it around his shoulders with a flair, he fastened the clasp at his throat. Grasping the saddle horn, he gracefully swung his long frame up onto the back of the huge white stallion. Pausing for a moment to glance back over the crowd, he waved at them and signaled Maeglir forward, followed closely by Galion and the accompaniment of six guards acting as escorts and the small wagon containing their personal belongings. As much as he wanted to move quickly once they reached the forest, Thranduil slowed their pace somewhat as he heard the voices of yet more elves in the trees calling out to him, wishing them all a safe journey.
“I think I need to get you a bigger horse.” Thranduil laughed as Galion guided his mount closer to him once they emerged from the forest.
“This one suits me just fine.” Galion stated as he looked up at him. It had been a while since he had taken the time to ride in the forests, tending the king seemed to take up so much of his time.
“I suppose you had nothing to do with all of that back there.” Thranduil commented, glancing down at him as a slight smile curled his lips.
“As much as I would like to take credit, I cannot.” Galion stated in a matter of fact tone. “You were very much missed especially in the dining hall, questions started to be asked.” He said a bit cautiously. “As far as I am aware, no one actually knows about the incident and they do not need to know. They know only that you and the king had words but it was impossible to hide your absence.”
“I see.” Thranduil commented thoughtfully, his expression changing to one that Galion could not read.
“I do not wish to stop. Can we reach Lórinand by nightfall?” Thranduil asked, turning his attention to Faÿláën who had ridden up closer to them.
“We should my Lord.” Faÿláën replied with a nod. “The sun will crest soon and we can move faster now that we are out of the forest. It is flat open ground between here and there.”
“I miss you already.” Húriön said quietly as he hugged his friend tightly, blinking back the tears that threatened.
“I will not be gone forever.” Galion said softly as he hugged him back. “The king is stubborn but he will not abandon his son.”
“I still don’t understand…”
“That child is the future of this realm.” Galion interrupted him sternly, pulling away slightly as he took his face in his hands. “This world is changing, we may not be a part of it but we cannot ignore it.”
“Do not be sad.” Galion continued softly, smiling at his friend. “Now I must go, I have things to do before I return to him. He tries so hard to be strong but his heart has been sorely wounded. Today will be difficult for him.”
Nodding in agreement, Húriön could do nothing but watch as his friend quickly departed from him. The hour was still far too early for him to concern himself with attending to the king yet too late to return to the comfort of his bed.
Moving silently but quickly through the halls, Galion made his way to the back entrance to the kitchen. Waving his normal morning greetings to the few elves that had gathered to begin their preparations for the morning meal, his eyes scanned quickly for Alythiyiá.
“I packed all of his favorites.” She said quietly, her voice cracking slightly as she greeted him.
“Oh don’t you start too! Everything is going to be fine.” He told her, hugging her tightly. “We will be back before you know it.” He added quickly, kissing her cheek.
“Be safe.” She whispered as she gave him a tight squeeze, a worried frown marking her brow as she watched him hurriedly disappear out the back entrance.
“Faÿláën!” Galion called out as he entered the kings’ stables.
“Ayë!” (Yes) He answered back as he popped his head out of Maeglirs’ (Thranduils’ steed) stall. “Back here!”
“Everything ready?” Galion asked, hurrying toward him.
“The rumors were true, the king has ordered the carriage be readied. He will have it sent to the back entrance when you are ready to leave.” Faÿláën said quietly as Galion reached the stall. “The others are grooming the coach horses now. But I did as you asked.” He added with a big smile.
“Good! Put this in Maeglirs’ bags.” Galion stated as he handed him the bundle from Alythiyiá. “Everything has been loaded in the buck wagon. We will not need the carriage, the prince will refuse to even get in it anyway. You just make sure that wagon and these mounts are at the front to greet him. Now I must be off to see to the Prince.”
While he personally had no desire to deal with the king this morning, in his heart Galion hoped and prayed that he would at least put in an appearance for the sake of his son. It had been so long with not a word from his father as they waited for Thranduils’ bruises to heal. There had been no way to conceal the young prince’s absence. The tension within the halls had been palpable yet Galion found it remarkable the gossips had stayed their tongues during his absence. Galion knew it was wrong to change the kings’ orders, yet he knew Thranduil would not stand for it.
“The king?” Galion asked the guard as he entered the antechamber that divided the two royal chambers.
“He has already sent for his morning meal.” Rûingäraf answered quietly, his expression full of concern. “He also sent word that he would not be needing Húriön this morning.”
“I see.” Galion sighed deeply. “This is not a good sign.”
“In time he will come to regret his anger.” Rûingäraf said reassuringly, reaching out to gasp Galions’ shoulder. “There is still love in him for his son.” The guards’ eyes filled with sorrow.
“What of Thranduil?!” Galion stated, his eyes flashed with anger.
“The Prince has you.” Rûingäraf stated, his expression turning to one of concern as he leaned a little closer. “They are both stubborn in their own ways. Perhaps the distance between them will make the king see that.”
“Or drive them further apart.” Galion sighed as he struggled to collect himself before facing the prince. “Either way, there is nothing to be done about it now.” He added as the guard opened the door for him.
Pausing briefly as he entered, Galion listened for any signs of movement within the chambers. It was deathly quiet and slightly unsettling as he hurriedly went about the task of lighting the small lamps before heading toward the princes’ bed chamber. While the hour was still very early he had expected Thranduil to at least be up and about as he was not known to be late in his sleeping. Lighting the small lamps throughout the room, he frowned as he noted the bed covers were thrown back yet there was no sign of the prince.
“Thranduil?” He called out as he walked toward the bathing chamber only to find it empty as well.
“I needed a little fresh air.” Thranduil stated clearly as he walked back inside from his private garden. “Where did you think I had gone?” He added as Galion appeared suddenly from the bed chamber, the sarcastic tone of his voice softened only somewhat by his smile.
“Do you want something to eat?” Galion asked, observing his movements as Thranduil walked gracefully toward the hearth. The dampness of his hair told him that he had already bathed, brushing it out and arranging it for him should not take long.
“There is no need.” Thranduil replied as he sank into one of the chairs. “I have already put the kettle on the hearth and I believe there is still some of Alythiyiá’s cinnamon bread in the tin on the table. That should be fine.”
Smiling to himself Galion set about the task of preparing the cups for tea. There was more than enough of the cinnamon bread for the two of them as well as honey. He had made sure to leave the extras in the room after each meal, although he had noted that Thranduil barely touched any of it for the most part.
“If we leave shortly after first light we should arrive just before midday tomorrow.” Galion said as he brought him a cup of tea and a small plate of the honeyed cinnamon bread.
Although he smiled as he accepted the plate Thranduil remained quiet, his thoughts turning to the sketches in the books he had requested Galion bring him. It was not that great of a distance yet he saw no need to push the guards or the horses, he was concerned that most of their journey would be across open grasslands. There had been no signs or reports of trouble on this side of the Misty Mountains, making camp without the cover of the trees could still be risky.
“There has been no word from my father as to the number of the accompaniment.” Thranduil finally spoke, his gaze still lingering on the dancing flames in the hearth. “We have much open ground to cover once we leave the forest.”
“I would not worry on it too much.” Galion said quietly as he rose to his feet. “I will lay out your traveling clothes. There is still time but don’t tarry too long.”
Smiling to himself as he left the prince to his thoughts, Galion set about laying out the new set of riding clothes he had secreted into the room the other evening. Patterned after the uniforms worn by the forest patrols and made for traveling on horseback, the mid-thigh length tunic buttoned down the front with a slit up the back, with long full sleeves as was the princes’ favorite style. The high ornamental band collar would accent his slender neck very nicely. Dyed to his favorite color of deep forest green, the silk was accented with silver stitching along the seams and adorned with elaborate embroidery in silver thread of the Crest of the Woodland Realm just beneath the shoulder lapels on each side of the front and a larger one emblazoned on the back. The seamstresses had also made him a riding cloak of the same colors embroidered with a single large crest in the center of the back.
“Thranduil.” Galion said quietly as he returned to the sitting room to find the prince still gazing into the hearth. “It is time.”
“So it is.” Thranduil sighed as he pushed himself up from the comfort of the chair. He smiled appreciatively as he walked toward the servant who had become his shadow, his friend and now his lover.
“What is this?” Thranduil asked, his eyes widening as he touched the tunic almost reverently, his fingers tracing the beautifully intricate embroidery of the crest. He knew each and every tunic and robe he owned and had no recollection of such a beautiful color and craftsmanship.
“It was intended to be a gifting to you at the Autumn Festival of Lanta`Eostra.” Galion told him as he walked up to him. “Thranduil.” He paused, searching those beautiful eyes for a moment. “It is not that the king is disliked, quite the contrary, in most ways we are happy with him. Yet, we adore you and wanted so much to show you this.”
“It is a beautiful gift!” Thranduil said, his voice almost a whisper as he continued to run his hands over the softness of the silk, examining the embroidery and the tiny silver buttons down the front and on the cuffs of the sleeves.
“The hour grows late.” Galion told him as he turned away from him to collect the pale green thin cotton leggings he had laid out on the bed. Properly woven silk was thick and could prove uncomfortably warm during the milder seasons, the cotton under garments allowed the flow of air to the skin preventing overheating.
Smiling to himself as Thranduil quickly discarded his robe, he was happy that he allowed him to assist him. Although he had offered numerous times, it was something that seemed to make the prince uncomfortable, preferring to dress himself.
“It is perfect!” Thranduil exclaimed, watching in the tall mirrored glass as Galion assisted him, admiring the way it draped over his body, accenting his slender form. “How will I be able to thank them for this?” Thranduil asked as he obediently sat in the chair in front of his dressing table.
“Seeing you wearing it will be enough.” Galion told him as he began the pleasurable task of brushing out his long silvery blonde tresses. “You look so beautiful in it.” He told him, meeting Thranduils’ gaze in the mirrored glass of the dressing table.
Both fell silent yet Galion could feel the young prince’s eyes on him as he brushed out his hair and began the task of creating the intricate braids above each ear and drawing them together in the back, weaving a third braid down the length of it. Galion knew the young prince was aware that his life had changed, he could feel the uncertainty within him. He knew as well there was nothing he could say to him that would ease the pain in his heart, as it was something that would only come with time.
“You will make a fine ambassador for the Woodland Realm.” Galion stated, his eyes shining proudly as he handed the silver circlet to him, watching as he positioned it on his head. “Come now.” He chuckled, patting his shoulders lightly. “I will make us another cup of tea while we wait.”
Thranduil rose to his feet, pausing for a moment not only to admire the new riding clothes, but to reflect on Galions’ words as he gazed into his own eyes. This was his home, for as much as his father had tried to separate him from them, he had in truth grown up among the Silvan elves and in many ways felt far more of a kinship among them than he did with many of those who shared his Sindarin heritage. These were his people and it was for that reason that he disagreed often with his fathers’ politics in their private discussions. Somewhere deep inside he knew the recent events marked a turning point in his life yet he had no awareness of the direction the fates had chosen for him. Collecting the riding cloak from the bed, he entered the sitting room.
Smiling as he observed him, Thranduil seemed taller as he strode decisively toward him, with his head held high. His expression was guarded, not quite the closed indifferent attitude he had adopted over the last several days, yet still unreadable. There was something in his gaze that had hardened, reflecting a purpose that had not been there before.
“I do not wish to wait.” Thranduil stated as he laid the cloak over the back of the settee. “I would like to speak one of the guards.” He added as he continued toward the boot rack by the hearth, watching as Galion hurried quickly to carry out his wishes.
“My Lord?” Thalieth inquired as he entered the sitting room.
“Please inform my father I wish to speak with him.” He stated without looking up as he pulled on his knee high leather riding boots.
“The king has stated that he is not to be disturbed.” Thalieth informed him, his tone firm but respectful. His eyes widening slightly as Thranduil rose to his full height, his eyes narrowing only slightly yet the full force of his will radiated from them.
“I suggest you take whatever measures you see fit to convince him otherwise.” Thranduil stated, his tone was calm yet firm, brooking no argument. “Or I shall be forced to break down his door.”
“As you wish.” Thalieth stated, bowing as he turned on his heel and quickly departed the room.
“I have decided that I do not wish to make camp unless it is absolutely necessary.” Thranduil said quietly as he picked up the riding cloak and turned toward Galion, his expression softening considerably. “I want to be in Lórinand before or shortly after nightfall this evening.”
“What is the meaning of this?! How dare you summon me!?” Oropher demanded as he burst into his sons’ chambers.
Visibly taken aback as he stopped only a few feet into the sitting room, his face revealing his shock as he stared openly at the glorious image of his son. Thranduil stood there before him with all the regal airs of a king, his shoulders thrown back in a commanding stance that dared any to defy him. The beautiful face now cold and as unfeeling as a stone statue, his chin lifted in a slight but clear display of defiance, yet it was his gaze that seemed to scorch him to his very core.
“I wanted you to see me just once before I leave.” Thranduil told him silently as the two stood there for long moments staring at each other.
“I believe it is only respectful that I inform you of the time of my departure.” Thranduil stated far more calmly than he felt, his gaze never wavering as he stared defiantly at his father.
“I will summoned the carriage and company to the back entrance.” Oropher stated, collecting himself quickly as he continued to meet the cold stare. His heart was filled with much pride in the change he saw in his son, yet he would not allow him to see it.
“Really.” Thranduil laughed, a hollow sound that held no humor but rather dripped in sarcasm, his clear sapphire eyes widening only slightly as they challenged him. “I will not skulk about like a thief in the night or a lowly scullery servant in a back halls of my own fathers’ house.” He continued, his tone was clear and firm as he walked toward him. “I will send word once we have reached Lórinand.”
Striding past the silent figure of his father, he looked back only to insure that Galion followed. Without so much as another glance toward his father, he strode purposefully toward the west corridor that would lead them to the main entrance of the palace. Thranduil struggled to control his anger while Galion followed a step behind beaming with pride.
“Thranduil wait!” Galion grabbed his arm to stop him before he reached the main door.
“What is it?” He asked, frowning deeply as he turned to look at him.
“I have not said anything because I did not wish to upset you further…”
“Galion, what is it?” Thranduil asked impatiently, his expression revealing his frustration.
“I believe by now there is probably quite a large good crowd outside that door waiting to wish you well.” He blurted out quickly, feeling more than a little nervous as he watched the different emotions chase themselves in the depths of his eyes.
“We will discuss this later.” Thranduil told him, not sure what to make of the situation but he was thankful Galion had stopped him as it gave him the opportunity to collect himself a bit. “Shall we?” He added, waving his hand toward the large double oaken doors.
Even with the brief warning Thranduil was completely unprepared for the mass of Silvan as well as Sindar elves that nearly ran up the few steps onto the broad platform just outside the main doors. Many of the Sindar elves were approximately his height while the Silvan elves were only slightly taller than adolescent human children to him as they swarmed around him. Quickly handing the riding cloak to Galion, he turned to greet them.
“Oh my stars!” He exclaimed as so many began talking to him all at once and reaching out to touch him. Impulsively he leaned down attempting to speak directly to each one of them as he hugged the ones he could reach.
“Everyone please!” Arthädión called out over the rising sound of their mingling voices, even waving his hands to get their attention. “Give the Prince some room!”
“It is quite alright Arthädión, really.” Thranduil laughed casting the older elf a sympathetic smile as he noticed the clear frustration on his face.
“Thank you all for this wonderful greeting at this early hour!” He stated, the clear tone of his newly found voice carrying easily across the courtyard. “I am truly honored by your gift.” He told them, placing his hand on his chest as his eyes scanned the many smiling faces, all of them filled his heart with joy.
“We came to wish you a safe journey hîr vuin.” (My Lord) Arthädión told him as he made his way through the crowd toward him. “We worry, neither you nor the king have ever departed from here since your arrival.” He added as he reached his side, the previous frustration now replaced with concern on his face.
Nodding, Thranduil turned to face the large group of elves that stared back at him in anticipation of some word from him. “I have to say I was not prepared to give a speech.” He stated, a huge smile nearly splitting his face as he glanced over their anxious faces. “I assure you there is no reason to be concerned. I merely journey to visit with our friends in Lórinand as an Ambassador of the Woodland Realm. I will return, of that you have my promise.”
Thranduil continued to hug them and talk to them as he made his way down the steps toward Maeglir who tossed his mane and pranced a bit as he reached him. “I know, I have neglected you lately and I am sorry my friend.” He told him as he wrapped his arms around the stallions’ strong neck.
“Thranduil.” Galion said quickly to get his attention as he handed him the cloak.
Nodding toward him as he accepted it, throwing it around his shoulders with a flair, he fastened the clasp at his throat. Grasping the saddle horn, he gracefully swung his long frame up onto the back of the huge white stallion. Pausing for a moment to glance back over the crowd, he waved at them and signaled Maeglir forward, followed closely by Galion and the accompaniment of six guards acting as escorts and the small wagon containing their personal belongings. As much as he wanted to move quickly once they reached the forest, Thranduil slowed their pace somewhat as he heard the voices of yet more elves in the trees calling out to him, wishing them all a safe journey.
“I think I need to get you a bigger horse.” Thranduil laughed as Galion guided his mount closer to him once they emerged from the forest.
“This one suits me just fine.” Galion stated as he looked up at him. It had been a while since he had taken the time to ride in the forests, tending the king seemed to take up so much of his time.
“I suppose you had nothing to do with all of that back there.” Thranduil commented, glancing down at him as a slight smile curled his lips.
“As much as I would like to take credit, I cannot.” Galion stated in a matter of fact tone. “You were very much missed especially in the dining hall, questions started to be asked.” He said a bit cautiously. “As far as I am aware, no one actually knows about the incident and they do not need to know. They know only that you and the king had words but it was impossible to hide your absence.”
“I see.” Thranduil commented thoughtfully, his expression changing to one that Galion could not read.
“I do not wish to stop. Can we reach Lórinand by nightfall?” Thranduil asked, turning his attention to Faÿláën who had ridden up closer to them.
“We should my Lord.” Faÿláën replied with a nod. “The sun will crest soon and we can move faster now that we are out of the forest. It is flat open ground between here and there.”
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
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Lorinand Memoirs: The Bough Breaks