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Elrond was pacing in the expansive library reading a large volume on elvish medicine, not five days after the newly formed Fellowship of the Ring had left Rivendell on their perilous journey. His nerves still had yet to settle, however for the first time in many years, Elrond felt hopeful about the future. Dark days were ahead to be sure, yet there was light on the other side. The young Halfling Frodo was pure of heart and with his eight companions, together they would succeed. Middle Earth would finally be rid of that wretched ring.
Elrond was so engrossed in his book that he did not hear the approach of Glorfindel. The Balrog Slayer was ever light on his feet, like all elves, making little to no noise as he came into the Peredhel’s peripheral vision. Elrond looked up for a moment and offered the golden haired elf a small smile.
“I trust you are not too saddened that you could not accompany the fellowship on their journey.” Elrond remarked as he closed his book. He stepped past Glorfindel to the shelf behind, putting the book back in its place. “Likewise, you have seen your fair share of... darkness in your lifetime.” Elrond continued with a knowing smirk. Glorfindel looked down at the ground for a moment and chuckled lightly.
“Nay my Lord Elrond, simply somewhat disappointed. I had hoped that you might appoint a second elf to this venture, however it was not to be. I know my services are put to best use in Imladris.” Glorfindel said crossing his arms over his chest. Elrond motioned for him to walk along side him towards one of the balconies overlooking the courtyard. “Besides, I have no doubts Legolas Thranduillion is a fine alternative. I have been told that he is talented with a bow and long knives.” Elrond raised an eyebrow.
“Yes I have been told the same.“ Elrond said as they reached the balcony. “He tutored Arwen when they were very young. Even then, he was a natural talent.” Glorfindel nodded and he leaned on the intricate railing, simply breathing and relishing the moment. “Admittedly, I was surprised that he volunteered himself, though I think it will prove a wise choice.”
“All the same, he is still young, as are the halflings. It will be a dark road for them especially.” Glorfindel’s voice was even and calm, but it still betrayed his underlying fear. He did not need Elrond’s foresight to know that the future was likely dark and not certain. It was strange, as Glorfindel was not accustomed to feeling such fear, yet it still clawed at his heart every so often.
Elrond’s nerves refused to settle. Having seen the many horrors of Sauron, he had felt nothing but terror seeing the One Ring before him. Hearing Mithrandir utter Black Speech had sent horrific memories to the forefront of his mind, reminding Elrond of the many vile experiences he had had. He could never forget Daglorad or the siege, Gil-Galad’s passing and his eventual possession of the Elven ring Vilya. A dark time in his life that would stain his existence for as long as he lived. A perverse fear clawed at his nerves, thinking of the possibility of another such period of time. Elrond longed for peace.
He was brought out of his thoughts when he caught the hurried footsteps of Lindir coming towards himself and Glorfindel. He was running, his brown hair flipping around behind him as he did. Elrond deduced that it was urgent and he suddenly felt uneasy. Lindir stopped in his tracks not two steps in front of Elrond and Glorfindel, attempting to speak through fast breaths. Elrond put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him.
“Calm yourself Lindir, what is so urgent that you sprinted this way?” Elrond asked. Lindir took a deep breath before straightening his back and calming his breathing slightly.
“Hir-nin, the outer scouts spotted a horse entering the valley at full speed. They could not identify the rider, only that it was an elf and he was white of hair.” Lindir spoke breathlessly. Elrond and Glorfindel simultaneously raised a questioning eyebrow, turning slightly to look at her courtyard. “I would estimate that they will enter the courtyard any minute my lords.” Elrond looked expectantly at the courtyard. Glorfindel looked as well, both looking for anything out of the ordinary. They both turned back to Lindir, about to question for more information, but they were stopped by the sound of hooves approaching the courtyard.
True to Lindir’s word, the horse entered the courtyard at full speed, slowing down once nearing the centre. The rider raised his hand to the hood he wore over his head and pulled it back. Upon realising who exactly it was, Elrond, Glorfindel and Lindir all wanted to shrink and disappear.
In Imladris’ courtyard stood King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, father to the elf Elrond had just sent on what was to be a majorly dangerous journey. Elrond and Glorfindel looked at each other, both suddenly extremely concerned for the other. They immediately began making their way down to the courtyard. They walked in large strides with Lindir close behind.
“We are in for a verbal beating if he is here for the reason I believe he is here.” Glorfindel whispered in their haste. Elrond sighed.
“Yes, I am afraid that assumption may be correct.” Elrond said as they turned the corner.
Thranduil had dismounted his horse, seemingly letting it alone. He wore dark riding clothes that were not exactly suited for the chilled weather, leading Elrond to believe that Thranduil had left Mirkwood in a hurry. His gaze was furious and once it fell on the two approaching elves, it became positively murderous. He wore no crown, leaving his hair slightly dishevelled. It only intensified his terrifying gaze. He was taller than both Elrond and Glorfindel, making Thranduil all the more imposing. Elrond made his best attempt at a smile as they approached, but quickly found it failing when Thranduil looked him in the eye.
“King Thranduil, we are honoured by your presence hir-nin, though I must admit we were not expecting you.” Elrond said as cautiously as possible. Thranduil tilted his head ever so slightly.
“Is that so? I would have thought after you sent my son on a suicide mission, that the possibility of my visiting would increase exponentially.” Thranduil’s voice was unnaturally calm, his anger bleeding through. Elrond could feel both Glorfindel and Lindir recoiling behind him. Their assumptions had been correct. This was about Legolas.
“Mellon-nin, you must understand what is at stake here.” Elrond attempted to explain as eloquently as possible, but he knew deep down that arguing with an angry Thranduil would be near impossible. “The One-“
“I am well aware of the context Peredhel. I would simply like to understand how you had the gall to send my elfling into the jaws of death and think that I would stand for it!” Thranduil exclaimed. Elrond flinched slightly. Thranduil took a step closer. “I thought I could trust you.” He whispered both angrily and sadly.
“Thranduil, mellon, you can, I swear it.” Elrond said stepping closer as well.
“Legolas volunteered himself, my lord.” Glorfindel added. Elrond cringed inwardly when Thranduil registered what he said. This would likely not go over well. Thranduil looked to Elrond expecting some sort of confirmation. Elrond desperately wanted to disappear in that moment.
“It is true, Legolas did volunteer.” Elrond conformed softly. Thranduil seemed to vibrate in anger and he took a deep breath.
“And you did not think, to try and dissuade him from this? Or to simply say no?!” His fists were clenched so tightly that Elrond could see the bones of his knuckles through his skin. “I did everything in my power to shield him from the horrors of Mordor, so that he may never have to experience what we did in the First and Second Age! And you simply sent him off with what? Four Halflings, that idiot Stewart’s son, Mithrandir, Estel and a bloody dwarf?! That’s your grand plan?!”
Thranduil shook with anger, his face contorted in a vicious snarl and he looked about ready to destroy something. Elrond put his hands on Thranduil’s shoulders in a vain attempt to calm him. Elrond could sense however that Thranduil’s rage was erupting like a too full volcano.
“Mellon-nin I know it is a risk, but they are all capable fighters, even the Halflings can defend themselves if need be. I have no doubt that Legolas has an excellent skill set, he is an important asset to the fellowship.” Elrond explained cautiously. Something in his words ticked Thranduil off even further however. He let out a low growl and slapped Elrond’s hands away from his shoulders.
“I AM AWARE THAT LEGOLAS IS CAPABLE, I TRAINED HIM MYSELF! MY TRUE QUESTION HERE IS WHY IN THE NAME OF ERU ILÚVATAR, OUT OF ALL THE ELVES IN MIDDLE EARTH DID YOU HAVE TO SEND MY ONLY CHILD?!” Thranduil yelled, his anger like a tidal wave. Glorfindel and Lindir both flinched and took a cautious step back. “YOU HAD SO MANY AT YOUR DISPOSAL! WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO SEND MY ONE CHILD WHEN YOU YOURSELF HAVE THREE EQUALLY CAPABLE CHILDREN?! WHY LEGOLAS WHEN YOU HAVE THE VALAR’S PRECIOUS BALROG SLAYER?!”Thranduil gestured towards Glorfindel, his gaze not for a moment leaving Elrond. “WHY MY SON?!”
He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Elrond could see the glamour covering Thranduil’s age old burn beginning to flicker. Such an occurrence only taking place when he was exhausted or when his emotions were too volatile.
“Thranduil, a degree of discretion was needed, others would have been too noticeable. The enemy would realise the purpose of this journey too quickly.” Elrond put his hand once again on Thranduil’s bicep, he did not slap it away again. “There is always danger when stepping out into the world, Legolas has been out on patrols and other such ventures, what has you so concerned?” Elrond asked. Thranduil looked at him once more. His anger had somewhat subsided, despair replacing it.
“This is different Peredhel and you know it. This is Mordor! Do you not understand?! If I lose Legolas to this venture I will have no one else! Unlike you two, there is no one waiting on the shores of Valinor for me! Unlike you two, I am not favoured by the Valar! They made that abundantly clear when they allowed every single person I ever cared about to be slaughtered in front of me!” Thranduil exclaimed in a broken voice. A single tear escaped the eye that Elrond knew to be blind. “I-I... cannot lose my son.” Thranduil whispered sighing shakily.
As dark thoughts seemed to take over Thranduil’s mind, the glamour was visibly failing. Elrond could sense Glorfindel’s poorly veiled shock as he moved to stand next to him. Thranduil was breathing heavily, his rage filled outburst seemingly draining him. Elrond made to move closer to him, wanting desperately to comfort him, to make him believe that Legolas would return to him. But Thranduil put a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.
“We had just mended our relationship... he was finally looking at me as his father again... and not just his king...” Thranduil said sadly. One hand came to his eyes to quickly brush away a few stray angry tears. “And now I may never see him again...” He looked South, to where is elfling was heading, his eyes glazed over with a soul shattering fear. He blinked rapidly as more tears escaped his eyes and his glamour failed completely right then. Out of habit and shame, Thranduil tilted his head so his white gold hair covered the ruined left side of his fair face, closing his eyes for a moment trying desperately to regain his composure.
Glorfindel stood flabbergasted behind Elrond. He caught a glimpse of the horrific injury caused by raging fire. It travelled down the Sindar’s neck and under his clothing and Glorfindel guessed it continued down Thranduil’s body. For in his experience, dragon fire was all chaos and no precision. It spread and spread and spread endlessly. To think that Thranduil lived with this injury everyday made Glorfindel respect him all the more. Such a pain caused by fire did not lessen over time. The Valar has been kind enough to Glorfindel to restore his body completely without any lingering pain, something in this moment he was deeply grateful for.
Thranduil breathed deeply and slowly sank to his knees. His burst of rage and now his glamour failing had drained him. He looked down at his hands in his lap, letting his hair cover most of his face.
Elrond’s heart broke as he witnessed Thranduil’s carefully guarded vulnerability bleed through in his exhaustion. Elrond knew how the burn perverted his every nerve, forcing him to feel the horrid pain everyday. Very few remedies had ever been effective, besides the healing power of Vilya. Elrond sank to his knees as well, sitting parallel to the Elvenking. He cautiously brought his ringed hand to the left side of Thranduil’s face, touching the burn with calculated lightness. There was a small flinch, but then Thranduil leaned into the touch ever so slightly.
“Does it pain you?” Elrond asked softly.
Thranduil met his eyes and nodded. Elrond sighed and put his free hand on Thranduil’s shoulder, preemptively stabilising him. He closed his eyes in deep concentration and after several moment, Vilya glowed a bright blue. A cold sensation expanded over Thranduil’s face with a pale blue light, his blind eye releasing a few tears as it went. The King’s hands shook, coming up to hold Elrond’s arm as the healing ring did its work. Thranduil’s breathing began to even out and a whisper of a moan of relief escaped his lips.
The blue light faded and Elrond opened his eyes. The burn was still on display, but the elf in front of him was visibly relieved of significant pain. Thranduil released small cry of relief as he dropped his head to Elrond’s shoulder, resting his forehead there. He continued to hold Elrond’s arm with a shaking grip, his breathing evening out more. Elrond brought a hand to the white gold hair stroking it in a comforting gesture. No words needed to be spoken in that tender and vulnerable moment between the two Elven leaders, Thranduil’s gratitude being conveyed through unconventional touch. That was enough for Elrond.
“I am still angry at you Mellon-nin.” Thranduil said in a voice barely above a whisper. Elrond let out a small chuckle and patted the Sindar’s back lightly.
“Of course Mellon-nin, I have not forgotten.”