From Mirkwood to Imladris.

“Nana, what is an ‘insufferable Peredhel’?” Legolas asked one morning as he and his mother sat beneath their favourite tree. The question was asked in all innocence, but it came as quite a shock to hear the emphasis placed on the words exactly as Thranduil had likely spoken them.

“Ouch!” Elisiel muttered angrily as the distraction caused her to inadvertently prick her finger with the embroidery needle.  With a sigh of resignation she put her work aside and patted her lap in invitation for her small son to join her. “When did you hear those words?” she asked as the young elf settled with his head resting comfortably on her shoulder.

“Ada said it to his Steward when he finished reading the letter the messenger gave him yesterday,” replied Legolas who often spent time with Thranduil when the King was working in his study.

“I see. Why did you not ask him what it meant when he said it?”

“I wanted to, but he was rather cross, and sent me to my lessons before I had a chance to say anything,” Legolas explained. Even at his tender age he knew better than to interrupt official business, even when he did not understand what was being discussed. Elisiel gazed into the eyes that were expectantly awaiting an answer and carefully considered how best to approach this delicate subject.

“Do you remember how angry you were with Tathar when he hid your favourite book?” Legolas nodded. He had been furious with his friend for days and had refused to so much as speak to him until Thranduil intervened and made them apologise to each other. “As I recall, you called him a few unkind names in anger, just as you heard your Ada call his friend,  Lord Elrond of Imladris who is also known as the Peredhel, insufferable. Do you understand?”

“I think so. Ada was angry with his friend and spoke unkindly of him.”

“Exactly.”

“I did not like it when Tathar and I were fighting, but at least Lord Elrond did not hear what Ada called him. What does insufferable mean?” Legolas enquired, frowning with confusion as his nana laughed softly at his insistence.

“I think it means that the King simply disagreed with something Lord Elrond has written, or they may be on unfriendly terms at present, but it is nothing to worry about,” Elisiel said as she tenderly kissed the frown that still creased the small one’s brow.

“So they are enemies now,” he surmised silently. Legolas did not wish anyone aside from the Dark Lord to be his Ada’s enemy and he knew exactly what he needed to do to resolve the problem.

He waited until he was certain everyone had retired for the night and then stole silently into the King’s study. He sat in his ada’s chair and realised with a snort of disgust that his chin rested on the edge of the large wooden desk and that he was far too small for his arms to reach across to the stand where Thranduil kept his writing implements. Looking around the room, the resourceful young Wood elf smiled with relief as he spotted the spare cushions on the armchairs by the fire. He quickly placed two of the larger ones on the seat of the chair behind the desk and sat down, satisfied to find that that he was now able to reach the inkpot, parchment and most importantly the seal ring that was used on all messages from the King.

Legolas had seen enough of how the King’s business was conducted to know that often it was the Steward who penned the messages for the King to sign, and so he carefully wrote the brief note, doing his best to copy Thranduil’s signature at the end. He rolled the scroll and sealed it, then placed it in the satchel that already contained a message from Thranduil that was to be taken to Imladris the next day. Pleased with his efforts, Legolas returned to his chamber and fell into a pleasant reverie as soon as his head touched the pillow.

The weeks passed by slowly, until finally the messenger returned. Legolas hoped that his letter had had the desired effect and he tried to act surprised when he was called to his Ada’s study. Thranduil looked rather annoyed, and for several long minutes he sat silently at his desk, only occasionally glancing up at his nervous son. Finally he picked up an unopened scroll and handed it to the child.

“This is for you, from Lord Elrond I believe,” he said. Legolas accepted the message with trepidation for what it might contain, and excitement at receiving his first ever letter from another realm. With painstaking slowness he broke the seal and read the words twice just to make sure he fully understood the message.

“Well, what does he have to say?” Thranduil asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. He knew Legolas was expecting a reprimand, and he agreed with Elrond that it would do no harm to allow the child to suffer a little anxiety. After all, it was not acceptable for letters Thranduil knew nothing about to be sent in the King’s name. Especially when said letter inadvertently informed the ruler of another realm that he had been insulted behind his back

“Ada did not mean to call you an insufferable Peredhel, you just made him cross that day,” were the words his son had used according to Elrond.

“Would you like to read it, Ada?” Legolas asked as he offered the scroll to Thranduil.

“Nay, it is a private message for you, but perhaps you might like to share some of it. I am understandably curious to know what Elrond could possibly wish to discuss with my son,” he said as he sat in one of the armchairs and lifted Legolas onto his knee.

“I just wanted to help. I did not want you to stay angry with your friend, so I told him you would apologise for calling him names and he should apologise for making you angry. Am I in trouble, Ada?” Legolas was unable to prevent his lower lip from quivering as tears filled his bright, innocent eyes. Thranduil cupped the small chin in one hand and turned his son’s face upwards, brushing the single tear that escaped away with his thumb.

 “Just a little. I know you acted out of love and concern, but you should not have signed my name, nor sent a message I was unaware of. Fortunately no harm was done, but I want you to promise never to do this again.”

“That is exactly what Lord Elrond said in my letter, and I promise to do as you both say,” said Legolas, his eyes wide with astonishment that his elders’ thoughts were so similar. “He also asked if I would write to him again. I would really like to. Do I have your permission Ada?”

“Of course,” replied Thranduil. “But perhaps your nana would like to hear of this as well?” The words had barely left his mouth before Legolas hugged him, kissed his cheek and rushed out of the study waving his scroll and calling excitedly to Elisiel.

“Nana, look what the messenger brought me!”

Thranduil could not help but smile with affection for both his son and his friend in Imladris as he reread the last paragraph as Elrond’s reply expressing his total disbelief that Thranduil had written it the letter of apology he had received.

“We have been friends and at times enemies for far to long for me to believe you would ask my forgiveness for a few misspoken words, nor do I expect you to especially since I have been known to do likewise to you in your absence.

I look forward to hearing from you soonest, mellon nin.

Elrond, the insufferable Peredhel.”