Archive of Our Own

Morning Rites

For Oropher it was impossible to start his day without a special ritual. He always got up in the coldest hour of the night, just moments from sunrise, and slipped on his morning gown. Then he casually walked along the corridors of his home in Doriath until he reached the chambers of his son. Thranduil never had been a morning man and would never be, so Oropher was always there when the young one was still soundly asleep.

Carefully entering, he looked around just to be really sure that no one was around except him. He would hate getting caught. When he was assured of being alone, he silently walked towards the bedroom of his son. Oropher sighed softly.

Thranduil laid there in his bed, only the sheet was loosely wrapped around his waist, more presenting his beauty than hiding it. His sun kissed body contrasted with the white of the sheets and his long, silver gold hair spread around his head like a halo. Yes, Oropher loved his son. But he always kept his distance, not wanting to disturb the child's life. And after all, was he not happy with his king, he silently asked himself. Yes, he was. The love he felt for Thranduil was nothing than parentally love for his child and somehow that was reassuring. His beautiful son turned on the bed, murmuring something under his breath not audibly for Oropher.

The counselor moved to the curtains in front of the window that faced the east and drew only that one open as he did not want to wake Thranduil. Slowly the sun rose behind the treetops and banished the darkness of the night from the woods of Doriath. Oropher quickly stood aside to let the rays enter and outline his son's body, admiring the beauty the Valar had bestowed on him. The rays got themselves caught in Thranduil's fair hair and let him shone with a sort of inner light. Most elves said the young son of the Chief Councilor of Doriath was loved by the sun when they saw him walking the paths in the sunshine but they had never seen him this way.

There it was, the moment Oropher came every day for. The sunlight spread on Thranduil's entire body and the elf blinked, only brief enough to show his jade green eyes with silver sparkles radiating in the light.

Oropher's breath hitched in his throat. The moment was gone and also he had to part from the private chambers of his son now, but it was every time a loss to leave. Before he went to his own chambers again for another hour of rest, he drew the curtain close again and kissed his son chastely on his forehead, still anxious to wake him up. Then the councilor left, leaving behind such an appealing sight elves would kill for seeing it.

Oropher quietly thought about how happy the one had to be who would, in some centuries maybe, allowed to start his day next to his son.