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The Moth & The Flame	By : Avaloyuru Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3099 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any copyright to the Tolkien/Middle-Earth Fandom, nor his canon characters or languages. I do not receive any form of compensation for this fanfiction. Original characters are my property.

Chapter List
- 7
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- 9
“Galion, you know very well I trust you in these matters for a reason.” Thranduil sighed heavily as he scratched his name boldly across the bottom of the request. “You and Alythiyiá have never managed to disappoint me yet.” He added as he gathered the papers and stacked them neatly before handing them to him.
“I’m glad you always approve.” Galion stated somewhat flippantly as he accepted the requests. “I ask for your approval simply as a matter of principle. Not to mention I would not need to make last minute changes if you saw fit to inform me of extra guests. You did not seem to feel it necessary to inform me that Lady Laûrläéthëe safely arrived the other day...”
“That will be all Galion.” Thranduil stated, meeting his gaze briefly before turning away from him to gather yet another stack of papers that required his attention.
“Ben iest gîn, hîr vuin.” (As you wish, my lord). Galion stated, stiffening as he abruptly turned on his heel and departed the kings’ private study.
“Why do you chide him so?” Lord Garävegión chuckled from his comfortable seat in the corner of the room.
“Because I can.” Thranduil said quietly as he glanced up at him, his sapphire eyes dancing with amusement. “Besides, if I annoy him enough he will come to my chambers tonight to scold me and I will have to beg forgiveness by taking him into my bed.” He added, a slow smile curling his lips as he leaned back in his chair.
“I will never understand the relationship between the two of you.” Lord Garävegión sighed, shaking his head. “Never the less, it has survived for many years and he has been good for you.”
“He is special to me.” Thranduil said quietly, almost thoughtfully as he pushed himself up from the chair and made his way to the wine cupboard. “I received a message from Lady Gilaiwë, she will be joining us for the Winter Solstice this year.” He said as he picked up the wine carafe and turned toward his desk to refill his goblet.
“And Lenwë?” Lord Garävegión asked, arching a brow.
“He sends his regards but has chosen to remain in Lórinand.” Thranduil stated as he moved back toward his chair. “It would seem that Amroth has forsaken his rightful place as heir and he feels that his presence is needed there more than here. Unfortunately I am forced to agree with him as I fully understand his position.” He sighed heavily, his gaze meeting that of his longtime friend and chief advisor.
“Like Legolas, he has never had a desire to follow in his fathers’ footsteps.” Lord Garävegión replied, his gaze taking on a faraway look for a moment.
“Yes.” Thranduil sighed, stretching out the word as if reluctant to agree. “I cannot force him to stay. But it raises a difficult situation I want to discuss with you.”
Frowning at the kings’ strange expression, Lord Garävegión remained silent as he leaned forward, studying him. Beyond the many losses during the battle in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain that had pained the king very much, it was the absence of his son that had been the most difficult for him to come to terms with in his mind and more particularly in his heart.
“Years ago I swore I would never force him into a marriage he did not want.” Thranduil said quietly as he looked down into the dark liquid in his goblet. “As sweet as the prospect would be to see my halls filled with the laughter of grandchildren, I would not bring the same pain upon him or any prospective wife I might choose.”
“Is this something you are now considering?” Lord Garävegión asked curiously. It was a topic he had brought up in the past and always Thranduil had refused to even think on the issue.
“Actually.” Thranduil began, turning to study him. “I would feel more comfortable if we were to completely abandon my fathers’ decree that places a higher value on a Sindar over any other.”
“I see.” Lord Garävegión smiled. “This would not have anything to do with a certain young elleth (elf maiden).” He added, his smile broadening as he watched the stain of a slight blush creep up from beneath the kings’ collar.
“We are all Tawarwaith through our Teleri ancestry. There should be no preference.” Thranduil stated, ignoring the question as he frowned at him. “I think it was only my fathers’ experiences in Doriath and his contempt for the Noldor that inspired him to make such a decree.”
“In the time since your fathers’ death much has changed not just in the world but here. It grows more difficult to claim a pure line.” Lord Garävegión said thoughtfully. “It is within your power to dissolve the decree if you so choose.”
“Why do I feel it will not be that easy?” He arched a brow at his advisor.
“There will those who may disagree...”
“I need to speak with you Father.” Legolas stated as he boldly marched into the study, the flash of anger that shown within his pale blue eyes belied his calm but firm tone.
“Leave us.” Thranduil stated as he rose to his feet, meeting his sons’ angry gaze evenly, his thoughtful expression now replaced with a familiar guarded mask of indifference.
“Why?” Legolas asked as soon as the door closed behind the advisor, stepping back slightly as his father walked around his desk.
“It is good to see you too ion nîn (my son).” Thranduil commented, smiling slightly as he regarded his sons’ angry stance before him.
“I will not play word games with you Father.” Legolas stated, watching his father lower himself slightly onto the edge of his desk. “You know very well what I’m talking about.”
“Legolas.” Thranduil sighed, clasping his hands loosely in front of him as he tilted his head slightly in that knowing way he knew irritated his son. “I know a great many things.” He said, narrowing his eyes at him in warning. “Perhaps you should explain yourself. You can start by telling me why you thought it necessary to sneak into my house like a thief in the night.” He added, arching a brow at him, enjoying the startled look that passed briefly over his sons’ face.
“But you’re right.” He said, leaning forward slightly. “I know exactly what you are referring to and my answer is simple. Tauriel is quite valuable to me not only because she is like a daughter to me, she was a good captain of my patrols. I felt it was far more advantageous to bring her back than to try to replace her.” He stated, watching the play of emotions chase themselves within the depths of his sons’ eyes.
“That does not excuse the fact that you are keeping her a prisoner.” Legolas stated, feeling his anger twisting in his gut as he recognized his fathers’ defensive stance. Refusing to back down from his fathers’ narrowed gaze. “Why have you not returned her to the patrols then?”
“She needs time Legolas.” Thranduil said quietly as he folded his arms across his chest, his gaze remaining unchanged as he studied his son. “She has suffered much and needs to mourn among her own people.”
“You did not answer my question.” Legolas stated, his fingers flexing in his anger. “Why are you keeping her as a prisoner?”
“She is not a prisoner.” Thranduil sighed as he turned to pick up his wine goblet. “She has the same freedoms as anyone else.”
“Then I am taking her with me when I leave in the morning.” Legolas stated far more calmly than he felt.
“You seem so sure of yourself.” Thranduil said quietly, taking a long drink from the goblet. “I do not think she will take lightly that you have already abandoned her once. Now that she knows you have deceived her, do you really think she will be so willing to go with you?”
“Deceived her?” Legolas asked in shock, truly taken aback by the accusation. “I have never lied to her!” He stated as he collected himself quickly. “She knows I spoke the truth when I told her that I loved her!” He exclaimed, feeling his anger rising once more.
“Nothing happens within this realm that I do not know of it.” Thranduil stated as he advanced on his son. “I should have intervened when I first became aware of it. You are reckless ion nîn (my son)! You think I did not know of your intentions? How you lured her into your many trysts while you were supposed to be on patrols no less? You knew from the beginning such a union would never be allowed yet you continued to deceive her to believe otherwise.”
“I will marry her!” Legolas stated angrily. “You cannot stop me.”
“Oh but I can. You are bound by the same decree as am I.” Thranduil stated, his tone taking on that familiar clear tone of his position. “I have tolerated your many dalliances over the years as I wanted you to experience life. Yet I had hoped you would come to your senses and a suitable choice would attract your attention as I do not wish to burden you with an arranged marriage.”
“You have no right!” Legolas exclaimed as he father approached him. “Damn you!” He added to himself, hating the way his father always managed to remain aloof and seemingly untouched by everything around him.
“As your King I have every right.” Thranduil stated as he narrowed his eyes, returning the same defiant glare so clearly shining from his sons’ eyes. “I suggest you take care that I do not change my mind.”
Before he realized that he had even moved, Legolas felt the impact against his knuckles as he struck his father for the first time in his life. Reacting in both fear and anger, he turned on his heel and quickly left him standing there holding his face.
“My Lord, is everything alright?” Thalieth asked, watching as the prince strode purposefully out of the study. “Stop him!” He yelled as he turned to see the king holding his face as blood trickled freely between his fingers.
“No! Let him go.” Thranduil barked the order quickly. “Find Galion, tell him I need him.” He said as he straightened to his full height and walked calmly past him into the antechamber toward his private chambers.
~*~
“I thought I was the only one who preferred solitude during festivals.” Elvändéruil said quietly as he approached the solitary figure in the solarium.
“I actually love festivals. I’m just not feeling very festive at the moment.” Tauriel replied, smiling as she turn toward the familiar voice. “I merely sought refuge from the chaos for a while.”
“You know I’m always here for you.” He told her, taking her hands in his larger ones. “You have been so sad lately, I worry for you.” His silvery gray eyes softened as slight crinkles formed at the edges from his smile.
“Oh I’m not sad!” She insisted, squeezing his hands tightly. “It’s just that so many things seem to be happening so fast, I don’t even know what to think anymore.” She reluctantly admitted.
The youngest son of one of the kings’ council members Elvändéruil was his mother’s favorite and was given much more freedom to live a simpler life than his siblings. Although he was much older than herself, he had been one of her dearest friends during her youth, someone she could always rely on to be there to listen when she needed someone to talk to. It was not in the way of a lover, yet she loved him deeply as a friend and a confidant, he knew all of her secrets.
Smiling up at his concerned face, she wondered just when the rift between them happened. He was different than most Sindar and certainly unlike any of the nobles she knew of the kings’ court. She had always envied his long black tresses and the fact that he hated ornamental braids, always wearing it loose, to hang freely down his back and his soft caring eyes. There had been many elleth (elf maiden) that had sought his attentions, yet he chose to remain alone. In contrast to his strong masculine aura, there was a great gentleness about him. He had a unique ability to sincerely empathize and almost understand her feelings even in personal things that most ellyn (male elf) viewed as nothing more than elleth (Elf maiden) silliness endeared him to her.
“I’m sorry that I have not taken the time to seek you out until now.” Elvändéruil said quietly as he studied her. “I thought perhaps you needed time to deal with certain things in your own way. But you seem to have shut everyone out, even me.”
“Oh no! I could never do that to you!” She exclaimed as she raised up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck in a fierce hug. “I’m sorry I made you felt that way!” She told him as she pressed her cheek against his chest.
Smiling to himself as he caught sight of the slight figure standing in the edge of the shadows in the doorway, Elvändéruil wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. He knew she would not resist his embrace as it was given in comfort, seeking nothing from her save the spirit of their friendship. He had never favored her relationship with Legolas and had tried to dissuade her. Unfortunately she had become so enchanted by him, his warnings had fallen on deaf ears.
“Save a dance for me at the festival and I will forgive you.” He teased, taking her hand as she released him. “You do plan to attend don’t you?” He asked as he led her toward a nearby stone bench.
“I haven’t even thought about court.” Tauriel sighed as she leaned against him, appreciating the comfort of his embrace once again. “In the past I rarely attended the kings’ court during festivals because of my duties.” It wasn’t exactly true and she knew it. The king had always made sure she was free to attend yet she would volunteer to replace anyone who truly wished to attend.
“Tauriel.” He said softy as he took her chin in his hand, turning her face toward him. “You need time to heal from everything you have been through. For once in your life will you please just relax and let things happen as they are meant to.” He implored her as he studied her face.
“I don’t even know what I want anymore.” Tauriel said quietly, her voice trembling as she stared up at him. “Everything has just been too much.”
“Stop trying to over think everything.” He told her, kissing her forehead softly. “Just listen to your heart.”
Slipping silently into the deeper shadows, Legolas felt a deep pain in his heart as he sought the refuge of his private chambers. While there was a part of him that wanted more than anything to simply leave and get as far away from his fathers’ halls as possible, a larger part him knew he could not leave her, not again. The kings’ order that no one was to leave the fortress still stood and he knew that even if he managed to convince the guards to let him pass, his father would hear of it. Right now the last person he wanted to see much less talk to was his father.
“You are reckless ion nîn (my son)!” The truth of his fathers’ words stung deeply as he thought of his foolishness in using his position to gain the attentions of any elleth displaying interest in him. Yet only one had managed to steal his heart as her emerald eyes, her sultry smile and the sweet sound of her laughter had haunted his dreams.
Escaping into his rooms, he was filled with regret for his earlier actions in his fathers’ study. He had struck out at him in anger toward himself and it was unforgivable. All of his life his father had done nothing but show him love and respect. He had always been open with him when he questioned him, even though it pained him greatly, he had told him the truth about his mother and why she had abandoned them.
Moving toward the hearth, he struggled with the torrent of emotions that swept over him as he set about the task of lighting the logs. Squatting down on the braided rug, he folded his legs in front of him as he watched the tiny flames grow as they began lapping at the bottom of the logs.
“You must not judge him too harshly. He was younger than you are now when he was forced upon a throne he did not want and the Thranduil I knew was gone, in his place stood a king.” Her words rang in his head as he thought of his meeting with the Lady Gilaiwë and for the first time he truly felt the weight of a crown he did not want in a life that was not his own. There was a part of him that understood that as his father had always held the obligation of duty above all else, including love.
Against his will the images of her in clinging to Elvändéruils’ neck, the gentle embrace as he kissed her forehead flashed through his mind, filling him once more with pain and the fear of losing her. He was well into adulthood and thoughts of his fathers’ threat to force him into a marriage he did not want was like a knife in his heart. No, he knew his love for Tauriel was real and he would not let him force him to a loveless marriage that would doom him to the same lonely life that his father had endured.
Slowly as his anger began to fade, his thoughts turned not to his fathers’ words but the subtle signs he had missed. Tauriel may no longer be a prisoner, he had no reason to doubt Träëliôrns’ word that it had been the case upon their return. Not only did he hold her prisoner, he had used the March Wardens to guard her, even going so far as to replace them with officers from the elite forces to shadow her every movement within the palace. The fact that no one had visited her with the exception of his father, even if he departed from her rooms in anger it created a nagging feeling that he was holding something back.
It was easy to see how his feelings for her could certainly have been blurred beyond a fatherly affection. Before the battle in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain, before the dwarf, before he himself had abandoned her, she had always been accessible to him, easily within his reach should he desire her. His anger rose again with the knowledge that he had not deceived her, not entirely. He had not told her of the oath only that his father would not approve of a marriage between them.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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The Moth & The Flame