Darkest Nights | Love of Royals: Book II

XXXVII: The Bond

Fíria's POV

I'm ready for one last fight. One last fight to stay with those I love; to get my people aid; and to keep both Fírion and myself as far away from the Dû-edhel palace as possible. I've got this far. I've got the place and the people, now I hold onto them. Whether Thranduil likes it or not, his kingdom is my home.

He's there, where he always is. I walk in once again to his enormous throne room to behold him in that very same position semi-reclined across his antler throne, his wife sat in an equally regal pose right beside him on her throne of stars. They're both so impossibly beautiful, I can't help but wonder if Erainiel will grow up to be the most dazzling elf in Arda. Her father surveys me with that very same hint of disdain, and I halt in that very same spot before his dais. However Legolas, Fírion, and Tauriel stand right by my side this time—a statement of our unity to the only one left who may threaten to separate us.

'I come before you with a matter of urgency,' I say, set on explaining myself fully before Thranduil cuts straight across me. Thranduil Oropherion, King of Interrupting Me. Those waterfalls suddenly look awfully tempting to push him in.

'For your information, I am already aware of your predicament,' he says dryly.

'Thranduil...' Elena begins.

'And I have yet to make a decision,' he continues over his wife as well, who frowns.

'Those are my people out there, outside your kingdom,' I explain. 'Scattered, leaderless, purposeless. Lost in a snowstorm, don't forget. Would you not wish for aid if you were in their position?'

'Depends on whether you would rather be aided, or blatantly ignored by a self-righteous King on elkback while your home was invaded by a dragon,' Elena says nonchalantly, flicking at her nails.  This earns her an exasperated glare from her husband.

'Fíria...' Thranduil shakes his head.  'What would you have me do?  They are your people.  You and your brother can lead them from my lands and do with them what you will.'

Elena shifts in her seat, startled.  'You're sending them away?'

'I am asking them to clean up their father's mess,' says Thranduil—almost bored, Valar damn him. He should be trembling in his antler throne, because I'm not going anywhere. He can try spending three millennia in that black palace with a father who hurts him day after day. I'm not going back there.

'And then what?  Must they stay and rule their people when that is not what they wish?' questions Legolas.

'We must all do things we do not wish to do.' As Thranduil says this, I could swear he glances briefly at me before returning his gaze to his son.

'But Fíria and I know nothing of how to rule a kingdom,' says Fírion.

'Then I suggest you learn,' Thranduil replies simply. His entire attitude enrages me—and clearly Tauriel, too.

'You welcomed these three Dû-edhil here after they proved you their worth.' The Captain takes a step forward towards her King. 'Why do you throw this burden on them now?'

'The Dû-edhil are not my responsibility,' he answers.

'Neither were the dwarves, yet the consequences of you turning your back were immense,' Elena comments again.

'Do not speak to me of the dwarves—'

'This is bigger than that, Thranduil!' she cries, 'in casting the Dû-edhil aside, not only are you giving Fíria and Fírion a burden too heavy to bear, but you are separating them from those they love.'