Refusal

Thranduil ground his teeth together, trying not to let his frustration show. He was failing utterly and he knew it. Trying to be calm, he folded his arms instead and refused to look up. To do so would mean to give in to his father and cease this argument. Heat thundered through his body, his cheeks aflame with the ire this refusal had brought.

“Look at me!” his father commanded.

Thranduil refused. He kept his gaze locked with a particularly interesting chip in the stone floor.

“You are not helping your case by acting like a petulant child! Look at me!”

Forcing his jaw to relax, he did as asked. How could his father be so cold with this? Had they not spent an age together hunting and patrolling in the forest? Thranduil had thought they’d reached an understanding together out there. That they had bonded and become more than just father and son, but friends as well. It seemed as though he had been wrong about that, like so many other things.

“I want you to understand the reasons behind my decision, Thranduil.” Oropher sat in his study at his desk. He had been working on some business when Thranduil had entered with his request. The study itself was a comfortable room, the soft light of the summer sun filtered through the window warming the room. A large wall handing adorned the left wall but the stone was bare.

“Well?” he asked.

“You’re young, too young for such a commitment. You’re barely out of your first century and have so much to see and learn,” he said. When Thanduil went to point out that he was willing to wait for a different answer, Oropher held up his hand. “That is not the only reason so keep your mouth closed. I know you’re going to tell me that you’re willing to wait. I know you’ll tell me that she is as well, I know you think you love her, she might think she loves you. Maturity may shed some light on that and I won’t have you entangle yourself with someone at this age.

“That brings me to the second reason I am refusing this request,” he said. Thranduil let his hands drop to his sides and waited for his father to continue. “Who are you?”

“What?”

“Remember your manners Thranduil!”

“Excuse me?”

“Who are you?” his father repeated.

“I am Thranduil, son of Oropher. What is the point of all this?”

“You are my son, and that comes with a weight of responsibility. You are my heir and you have so much to learn when it comes to ruling. You were born into this place of privilege and it is about time you understood what that means. One day, you will be responsible for our people.”

“I am aware of that,” he said.

“Are you?” Oropher rose from his seat and stepped out from behind the desk. He paced the floor in front of the empty fireplace. “I am not so sure you fully understand what that means. You will spend a lot of your time tending to the needs of others when I am gone. Their needs have to come first, not yours. This you will come to understand as I teach you these things.”

“Why does this mean I cannot marry Ellerian?” he asked. “I don’t see why who I am is a barrier.”

“It’s who she is that is the problem.” Oropher said. “I know Ellerian, I know she has been a good friend to you and there is nothing stopping that continuing, but she is no leader. She is a practical female, I know she fights as well as any of her siblings and I have seen her craftsmanship. But these are not the trappings needed for a leader. During your toughest hours, you will need someone beside you who will support you. She will only demand more of you and you will not have the time to spare it. She will become miserable in your absence. Do you want to make her miserable?” Oropher asked.

“But mother-“

“Comes from a long line of Sindar who have wed leaders. She was trained from birth much as you have been.” Thranduil folded his arms over his chest once more and looked away from his father. He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“I do not want her to be unhappy,” he said. “This…”

“She will come to understand, she is not stupid.” Thranduil sighed. “When you are older, we will find you someone better suited to the role. You have years before then. You have so much learning to do before then.” Oropher put his hand on his shoulder; Thranduil shrugged it off.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he snapped. That was enough. He had the answer, the last thing he wanted was to hear about someone else taking her place. Thranduil inclined his head, turned on his heel and stalked out of his father’s study. He did not slam the door, he wasn’t quite that immature but he certainly felt like it.

He left the hall, burst into the garden and stalked off down the path into the orchard. He did not stop until he arrived at the stream. He was out of breath, streaked with dirt. Face wet from tears, he drew his hand over his eyes and flopped down next to the water. Burying his head into his hands, he huffed out a sob and let the tears flow. When the tears were spent, he sat there staring at the water flowing. How was he ever going to let Ellerian know?

He picked up a nearby pebble and turned it over in his hand. She was perfect in every way. Not only for her tawny looks and winsome smile but her mind too. Ellerian was the one who had taught him to weave properly, every bit as much as the others. She was the one who pushing him to be better, who challenged his thoughts and questioned his opinions. She made him better, think more openly, eased his suspicions and had the good grace to laugh at him when he deserved it.

How could his father think these were not qualities worthy of him? Thranduil threw the pebble into the stream and picked up another. The words his father had spoken echoed in his mind too, ‘Do you want to make her miserable?’ Of course he didn’t. He wanted to see her smile, that one that lit up her eyes when she laughed. He never wanted to see her with tears in her eyes or a trace of sadness about her. Could he make her that happy? Even when he was dealing with official matters? Matters that might mean he ignored her for weeks at a time? He couldn’t promise that.

He threw the second pebble and rested his chin on his knee. The sound of the water babbling over the stones was soothing, though it did little to ease his mind. He shut his eyes and blocked out everything other than the sound of the water.

When a light hand touched his shoulder, he jumped.

“What’s this?” Ellerian asked. “Thranduil, caught unawares?”

Looking up, he tried to smile. “I’d try to deny that but you’d just laugh.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked. She sat down beside him, her face full of concern.

He pressed his lips together, the wan smile evaporating. “I spoke to my father about us today,” he said. He watched her face fall, as he knew it would. She leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes slowly closing.

“It did not go well I take it?”

“No,” he said. “He thinks I would make you miserable. That you are not prepared for the burdens of leadership that I will carry. That it will make you unhappy.”

“And you believed him?” she said. Her voice was higher than usual, only a little but enough. Thranduil shook his head.

“I don’t know what to think,” he said. He leaned his head against hers, “I do know that I will not marry another. I’ll spend my time with the armies instead.”

“Don’t be foolish,” she said. She ran her hand down his arm and laced their fingers together when she reached his palm.

“Or we could continue seeing one another in secret?”

“That’s more foolish than your last thought,” she said. He squeezed her fingers gently and sighed.

“The army it is then.”

“Thranduil!” Ellerian said.

“I cannot bare the thought of having to see you with another,” he said. He turned towards her, searching her green eyes. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and shook his head, “But if this cannot be, if we cannot be then I don’t see another choice. I wanted to have you at my side for eternity. I can’t have that.” He paused, running his thumb over her cheek, repeating the motion and trying to find the right words. All the while, the stream babbled in the background, the soft music fading into the distance. “I may not love another, but that won’t stop you.”

“You are the biggest idiot sometimes,” she snorted. She jerked her head away and turned to look at the stream instead of him. “Do you not think I love you with the same depth?” she asked. “Don’t you think that…” her words trialled off and he saw tears well in her eyes. “That this hurts me as much as you?”

“I-“

“Just. Shut up.” He did so, but he did not let go of her hand either. Not yet. The silence extended. He didn’t know what to say, did he need to say anything? Her soft sobbing drew his attention, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It wasn’t going to help but he couldn’t bear to see such anguish in her. That he was the cause of such was worse. She leaned into him, her face buried in his shoulder and for a long time, he held her close.

Eventually, she pulled away. She brushed away the tears from her cheeks and smiled. Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his cheek. Her kiss made his skin tingle. “I should go,” she said. He wanted to say so much to her; that he would fix this, they would be alright. They could carry on seeing one another and this would blow over. That he would make his father change his mind and one day they’d spend eternity together. All he managed was a nod.

“I will see you around?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said, “Though I might not call for a while.”

He let her fingers slide out of his grasp, and he nodded again, “I understand,” he said. She smiled, though it was a wan, joyless thing that left her eyes cold. She turned away, and despite everything, he watched her go until he could see her no more.

***

True to his word, Thranduil spent the next few centuries with the armies of his father. He learned to command them, gained their respect and fought alongside them against the enemies of his people. While he did not avoid the company and comfort of his home and Doriath, he did not relish the thought of returning either. All the she-elves his father gently encouraged him to spend time with, he politely rejected. He did not avoid Ellerian, how could he do so? Every time he saw her, he was reminded why he spent time away. He didn’t enquire after her, preferring to be away. It seemed easier that way. It was only when the dwarves brought strife to Doriath that Thranduil and the army returned.