Chapter 19: A half truth is a whole lie

The stars were bright in the evening sky by the time the men began to emerge from the Great Hall. Thranduil was anxious to escape himself. Negotiations with foreigners were something that rarely happened when Oropher had been king of the Woodland Realm. On the few occasions that such events did occur, Thranduil had never been part of them. His responsibilities were always related to military matters and a few ceremonial duties that his father practically forced upon him. Therefore, as king, Thranduil found these tasks challenging at best. Intolerable was the most honest description for the way he felt about them, but they could not always be avoided. Now that the work was concluded and the men dismissed, the king listened with barely concealed impatience as Hallion, Celonhael and Golwon made a few closing comments to him. Engwe had already left—fled would describe it better—the very moment he respectfully could. Dieneryn was waiting for her son out of courtesy, but Thranduil could see even his mother was destined to be set free before he was. One of her ladies had appeared at the doors of the Hall and was obviously waiting for the queen.

Theniel was Dieneryn’s closest friend and one of the weavers that worked in the queen’s workshop. Earlier that morning, she had listened to Marti’s comment about the king with open shock. She also noticed that Marti stayed behind to speak further to Lindomiel when the others left for lunch. When Lindomiel was not in the workshop after lunch and did not return at any point in the afternoon Theniel grew concerned. So as soon as the meeting with the Men showed signs of breaking up, she approached the Great Hall and slipped past the elven guards to stand in the back of the room and wait for Dieneryn be available. The queen’s eyebrows rose when she noticed her friend by the doors. Throwing an apologetic glance at Thranduil, Dieneryn stood and walked to the back of the room.

“What is it, Theniel?” she asked with concern in her voice. It was not common for her ladies to interrupt even the end of meetings in the Great Hall. Besides that, Theniel obviously was upset.

Theniel looked at the queen worriedly. “You asked me to tell you if Marti’s gossip crossed the line from merely hurtful and became dangerous. I think it did today.” Pulling the queen aside to one corner of the Hall, Theniel quickly related in a soft voice what Marti had said in the workshop that morning. Dieneryn listened with a furrowed brow. “And when we left for lunch, Lindomiel stayed as she usually does to continue practicing, but Marti stayed as well. I fear she intended to say more.” Theniel paused. “It was not so much what she said today. It was not so very different from the rest of the gossip she has spread—except, of course, this time her subject was the king and not Lady Lindomiel. Besides the fact that she has turned her attacks on the king himself, what really drew my attention was her demeanor. It was truly…spiteful…hateful. I cannot put my finger on it, but it made me very uneasy.”

Dieneryn had listened to the story with increasing anger that was evident in her voice when she spoke. “I will speak to the king and Lindomiel. Thank you for telling me, Theniel.”

Theniel nodded and they quietly departed together. As she walked with her friend, Dieneryn wondered what Marti had said to Lindomiel. She also thought about the best way to handle Marti’s apparently increasing antagonism towards her son.

*~*~*

Amglaur sat in the courtyard and watched the procession of Mannish delegates file out of the Great Hall and wander to the stables for their horses. The men had not stayed in the city, but rather had camped somewhere in the forest. Soon Amglaur saw the king leave the Great Hall as well. He stood and moved to follow him.

Thranduil strode across the courtyard, Hallion and Celonhael still talking to him animatedly. At this point, the king was barely listening. His brows drew together as he noticed Amglaur was approaching him and he sighed audibly. Confrontations with the Prince of Lorien were one thing Thranduil did not think would be a good idea given his current humor. Unfortunately, it appeared that, like negotiations, a confrontation with Amglaur might not be easy to avoid. He looked very determined to speak with Thranduil. The king paused in his advance towards his office when Amglaur finally reached him. Hallion and Celonhael fell silent at the expression on Amglaur’s face.

“I want to speak to you, lord Thranduil,” Amglaur said firmly with no explanation.

Thranduil looked at him tiredly. “It cannot possibly wait until tomorrow, lord Amglaur? It has been a trying day.”

“I do not think it should wait,” Amglaur replied with a resolve that Thranduil recognized he would not be able to dodge.

“Join me in my office then,” he responded with no enthusiasm.

Amglaur followed the king and his advisors to his office and stood aside discreetly while Hallion quietly went through a few points with Thranduil. When his advisors finally left, the king sat at a meeting table in the room and indicated that Amglaur should join him.

“What can I do for you, Amglaur?” Thranduil asked in a level tone of voice that hid his irritation at being forced to deal with the prince at that moment.

“You can explain to me how you know an elleth here. One by the name of Marti.”

Thranduil frowned. “I do not know her at all beyond knowing her name and the fact that she weaves with my naneth.”

Amglaur returned his gaze evenly. “That is not what she told me this afternoon in the courtyard. She told me that I should not allow Lindomiel anywhere near you because you and she are involved and you are simply trifling with Lindomiel.”

Thranduil’s eyes widened as Amglaur spoke. “You do not believe that?” he asked incredulously.

Amlgaur looked at Thranduil narrowly for a moment. The moment Lindomiel had mentioned Thranduil’s name in Lorien, Amglaur had been set against her growing attachment to him, certain he would not like Thranduil any better than he had liked Oropher. He still wanted to feel that way. But as he spent time in Greenwood, in his heart of hearts, he realized there was increasingly little justification for such sentiments. Amglaur sighed quietly.

“I do not believe it,” he finally said. “I have seen how you interact with Marti. You plainly do not care for her. I told her that.” Amglaur paused and fixed a sharp look on Thranduil. “Her response was that you treat her as you do because you and she share a past that you are ashamed of.”

Thranduil blinked. Then he drew a long breath. “I do not ‘share a past’ with Marti. I barely know her. I will not deny that several years ago I…dealt with her in a way that I am not at all proud of on one occasion. But that incident does not affect the way I interact with her now—I scarcely spoke to her before and I scarcely speak to her now because I do not now nor have I ever enjoyed her company. She is insane if she thinks that I am in the least interested in her, much less involved with her.” He paused. “I do not care to discuss that incident unless you will force me to do so. I assure you, it in no way need affect my relationship with Lindomiel.”

Amglaur studied Thranduil for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I trust you in this respect, Thranduil,” he said quietly and did not miss the look of relief that flashed in Thranduil’s eyes before he smothered it. Then he continued in a stronger voice. “But if I may offer some unsolicited advice, beware of Marti. I would go as far as to say be afraid of her. She intends you no good.” His eyes narrowed coldly. “And may the Valar help her if she directs her attentions to Lindomiel.”

Thranduil nodded and Amglaur noted in Thranduil’s eyes the same hard gleam that he knew was in his own. “Indeed,” the king replied curtly.

Amglaur frowned and he very begrudgingly admitted to himself that he also trusted that Thranduil cared for both Lindomiel’s happiness and safety. Possibly as much as he did himself. The prince of Lorien folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, glaring angrily at Thranduil. He had no desire to pursue this more charitable line of thought.

Thranduil studied Amglaur’s rapidly changing expressions with some interest. When he finally settled back into his typical angry slouch, Thranduil’s own expression grew curious. “If I may ask, how did your conversation with Marti come about? I did not know that you and she had even been introduced.”

“We have not. She followed Lindomiel out of Dieneryn’s workshop this morning, glaring daggers at her. When Lindomiel went for a ride with your brother, Marti approached me and told me this with absolutely no preamble what so ever.”

Thranduil gaped at him. “You jest.”

Amglaur raised his eyebrows. “I do not. I told you—the lady is trouble.”

“Apparently so,” Thranduil began, but he was interrupted by a knock on his office door. “Come in,” he called, on the one hand thankful for any excuse to dismiss Amglaur and on the other wondering if he was to have any peace this night. He did not need more tension after this conversation.

A servant entered the office. “My lord,” he began with a bow.

“What do you need, Cyllon?”

The servant glanced at Amglaur. “My lord, lady Lindomiel just returned from riding with lord Aradunnon and she saw the lights in your office. She asked me to see if you are available to speak to her. She says she has something most urgent to tell you if you could possibly see her tonight.”

Thranduil’s eyes flashed to Amglaur before fixing on the servant. “Of course, Cyllon. She was riding? Is she by the stables?”

“She is in the courtyard, my lord. Along with lord Aradunnon, lady Amoneth and lady Limmiel. They seem very excited about something, my lord.”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows and stood. “Let us go see what this is about then,” he said, rising. Amglaur followed him from the office. Thranduil very much hoped that Lindomiel’s excitement was not inspired by the same type of tales that Amglaur just told him.

As Thranduil and Amglaur descended from the flet, Lindomiel, Limmiel, Amoneth and Aradunnon were walking towards it. Aradunnon looked at his brother with a contrite expression that made the king frown and wonder what his brother had done this time. Limmiel’s expression betrayed her amusement as she came up next to her husband and took his arm affectionately. The enthusiasm of the two younger ellyth could not be missed. Upon seeing Thranduil, Lindomiel practically ran the short distance now separating them. When she reached him, she took his hand excitedly, eyes shining brightly.

“You will never guess what we did today, Thranduil,” Lindomiel exclaimed in an enthusiastic voice.

“I am sure I will not,” the King of Greenwood replied with an amused voice, glancing at the elves present in the courtyard witnessing this display. They were smiling. There were not many people in Greenwood that would publicly address the king by name and there were none that would clasp his hand so eagerly. Thranduil smiled as well. At least it did not appear that Lindomiel had an encounter like her father’s today.

“We went riding in the forest and we came across the camp of the men you were meeting with today. Some of them were there, so we stopped and talked with them and they had some women with them. As I mentioned this morning, I have never met any men before. They are fascinating.” She fixed him with a teasingly reproving glare. “I am very glad I got to meet them despite your unwillingness to introduce me to them.”

Thranduil’s eyebrows rose at this and he looked over Lindomiel’s shoulder at her father. Amglaur looked somewhat alarmed.

“At least lord Thranduil has some sense,” he said irritably, glaring at Aradunnon. Aradunnon only grimaced slightly.

Limmiel rolled her eyes dramatically at her husband’s reaction and her daughter’s excitement over meeting the men.

Thranduil watched all this unbelievingly. “Do you mean to tell me that you spent the entire afternoon in the men’s camp?” he said incredulously.

Lindomiel nodded, happily ignoring her father’s displeasure. “They seemed very interested in talking to us. And just that in itself was exciting. I have never spoken Westron with anyone who spoke it natively. We had lunch with them. I have never seen a deer prepared that way before…”

“Deer? They are hunting?” Thranduil interrupted, looking at Aradunnon. Thranduil only allowed his own people to hunt in the area immediately around the city.

“…I had never heard of the spices they said they used, but they were not bad at all. And the things they served with it. What did they call them, Aradunnon?”

“Potatoes, my lady,” he responded quietly. Aradunnon had apparently already endured a thorough exploration of the wonders of potatoes.

“That is right, potatoes. They were very good. They said they grow wild in the forest too, but the ones they had are a special variety that they cultivate.” She and Amoneth prattled on for several minutes about lunch with the men and the different clothing of the women and a wide variety of other interesting differences before concluding. “Not to mention the hairstyles of the men. They have hair on their faces…really I do not think I have ever seen anything that hairy…”

“Perhaps we should take her to see a dwarf next…” Amglaur interjected quietly, with dry sarcasm.

Thranduil snorted quietly and looked at Amglaur with amused surprise.

Again, Lindomiel ignored her father. “They were not bad though, really. Not like one hears. If you could suffer the smell, they were really quite pleasant. But between the smoking and the fact that someone should introduce them to soap and the river…I am certainly glad they were not staying in the city.”

By the time Lindomiel had finished her excited description of her afternoon, the older elves around her could barely contain themselves. Lindomiel was a very young elleth and that sometimes was quite obvious.

Thranduil looked at his brother with a teasing look. “So, you had your own little summit with the Mannish representatives? I thought you had no interest in trade negotiations. Perhaps you would like to assume responsibility for such endeavors in the future. I would be happy to allow that.”

Aradunnon looked sharply at his brother, but he spoke in a light voice. “I assure you, Thranduil, that if we had been able to leave, we would have. For that matter, if we had been able to stop Lindomiel from approaching their camp, we would have. But moving that elleth is like moving the mountain.” He grinned at her and Lindomiel smirked back at him playfully. “She must have inspected every square inch of their camp and she had every story of their people since the first generation of man.”

“And do not doubt the men enjoyed entertaining us,” Limmiel said in a dry voice with a meaningful look that encompassed her two attractive companions. “If the men meeting with you had not already left by the time we ran across their camp, I think you would have been very lonely in the Great Hall, my lord Thranduil.”

Thranduil shook his head, now serious. “That was not safe, Aradunnon. I do not think I like my three female guests from Lothlorien in the woods alone with a camp of men.” Then he frowned, remembering something. “Did you put a stop to their hunting?”

Aradunnon smiled indulgently. “We took some of your guard with us, so we were perfectly safe and yes, I stopped the hunting.”

Thranduil was still shaking his head. “Well, we managed to get the agreements we wanted with them. Perhaps next time we should negotiate for these potatoes.”

“I believe Lindomiel will never be happy eating deer without them again,” Limmiel declared teasingly.

Lindomiel smirked at her parents. Then, having related all the interesting details of her adventure, she turned to more serious topics. “Thranduil, do you have a moment to speak to me? I know it is late, but I would prefer to not let this wait.”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows playfully. “Your exploit with the Men was not the topic you wished to discuss? Then, of course, my lady. Would you like to go for a walk?”

She looked at him seriously. “No, this conversation would be more suited to someplace private. Your office, perhaps. It is not a social topic, but rather one of safety, I think.”

Thranduil frowned slightly at her solemnity, then his eyes widened at her words. His attitude became serious as well. “Very well. We can certainly go to my office. Should Hallion join us? Or Conuiön?”

“Let me speak to you. Then you can decide who else you want to share this with.”

“As you wish,” Thranduil replied, clearly curious, but gesturing for her to precede him up the stairs to his office and nodding his farewells to the others present.

Lindomiel turned to go to the flet, but then impulsively she threw her arms around Aradunnon in a brief hug. “Thank you so much for indulging me with the men, Aradunnon. That was the most fun I have had in a very long time.”

Aradunnon smiled and glanced at Thranduil. “I am pleased you enjoyed yourself, my lady,” he said with quiet amusement.

Then Lindomiel tiptoed to kiss her father on the cheek in a placating gesture. “I will not be long. Please wait for me to return so I can defend myself before you and nana start making fun of my visit with the men.”

Amglaur looked at his daughter with teasing eyes. “It is easier to win an argument with you when you are not present Lindomiel, so I think we will not wait.”

Lindomiel only laughed at that. Taking Thranduil by the arm, she led him to his office. Once there, she sat at the same table the king had occupied with her father earlier. When Thranduil sat next to her, she looked at him gravely and broached the topic at hand with no further pleasantries.

“You know Marti, of course?” Lindomiel began.

Thranduil returned her gaze apprehensively. “I do.”

Lindomiel looked down. “Occasionally, the ladies in your naneth’s workshop joke with me about you. Nothing more than harmless chatter…foolishness. Today, one of the ladies said that many unmarried ellyth had tried but failed to capture your attentions. Marti responded to that comment saying that a good number of unmarried ellyth had succeeded in capturing your attentions.” Lindomiel paused.

“I believe we have already had this conversation, Lindomiel…”

She shook her head and waved him silent. “I am certainly not saying that I believed her. That is not the purpose of this conversation. I am telling you this because you should know what she is saying about you publicly.” Lindomiel looked back at Thranduil. “And it gets worse. After the other ladies went to lunch and we were alone, Marti told me that you and she had…shared an intimate moment. Her description was graphic.”

Lindomiel intended to continue, warning Thranduil that she thought he should be concerned that Marti might say such things to anyone on a regular basis, but the look on the king’s face silenced her. To her astonishment, he looked plainly guilty. Lindomiel’s eyes widened.

“Surely there is no truth to what she said?” she demanded, color rising to her cheeks both from anger and from embarrassment.

Thranduil had been unwilling to discuss this incident with Amglaur, but he was equally unwilling to try to hide it from Lindomiel. Marti’s statement had some basis in fact and he would not lie to Lindomiel. “Lindomiel, I cannot deny that what she said may have had some truth in it, but I doubt she portrayed it to you as it really happened,” he whispered looking at her sadly.

Lindomiel stared him. “Would you care to tell me your side of this?” she replied stiffly.

Thranduil remained silent a moment. Then he spoke in a soft voice. “This happened seven years ago on the one yén anniversary of my adar’s death…the very day he fell." He looked away from her and into the past. "I saw him die, did I ever tell you that? He was right next to me. I saw the arrow…I swear I felt it.” His hand went unconsciously to a place on his chest. He sighed and closed his eyes. “You cannot understand how it felt to see that…my adar had brought so many of us through the fall of Menegroth, the attack on Sirion, the War of Wrath, travel across all of Eriador. He was invincible. He was the one thing in my life that had always been there as I lost everything else around me. When he fell…they say I fought bravely at the siege of Barad-dur, but I did not. I fought like someone who did not care if they lived or died because I did not. I think if I did not have the responsibility of the entire army’s safety to focus me…” Thranduil shook his head. “The point is, on the night Marti described to you, I was sitting in the talan where I normally watch the sunrise trying to find some…peace. I wanted to be alone and I had guards at the foot of the tree to enforce that wish. So Marti climbed through the trees to the talan. She told me bluntly…well she told me the reason why she had come and she…” Thranduil frowned. “She kissed me and put her hands on me and I admit that I did react. I do not deny that I kissed her or that I touched her in ways that were not appropriate. When I realized what I was doing I felt as if…I do not even know if I can describe it…disgusted, I was disgusted with myself. That was a darkness like I had never felt before. A shadow to rival any I felt near Barad-dur.” He nodded thoughtfully as if just realizing that himself. “I did feel the same presence as I did in the Enemy’s shadow when I stepped back and looked at her. I did not feel the slightest desire or feeling for her. Or at least not any positive feelings. I do not know what came over me that night. I was thinking of my adar and I was not myself. I have always been deeply ashamed of what happened, but it did not involve anything I wanted to feel or anything I would ever choose to feel again.”

As he spoke, Lindomiel looked at Thranduil, her eyes filled with compassion and pain for him. Her mind raced with all the tragedies he had seen in his life. As he had just said—the kinslayings, the War of Wrath, the associated destruction of his homes in Menegroth and Sirion and the loss of so much family in those places. Lindomiel had never known anyone to die or even sail West. Most of Thranduil’s family was dead and so many of them killed by elves. She realized that she could not even fathom all he had endured. She suddenly had an overwhelming, fierce desire to shield him from experiencing any further pain. Marti’s actions, ones that only had served to hurt him further, infuriated her.

“I am sorry I made you relive that and I do not blame you for it. I understand what happened and I understand perfectly well why Marti told me that story,” she whispered, leaning closer to him and pulling him into an embrace. He returned it with a force that surprised her. She tightened her arms around him reflexively and stroked her hand down his hair. “I am very sorry I made you relive that,” she repeated, turning her head to kiss his cheek.

He pulled away from her slightly, looking at her intently. “I am very thankful for your understanding, Lindomiel. I swear to you…”

She placed her finger over his lips and shook her head. “Your past is none of my business, Thranduil. You are nearly four millennia old. I am certain you have kissed a few maidens. I would be lying if I told you that I had never kissed an elf. I have indeed kissed a good many more than one. But I have no doubt that you have never done anything dishonorable. What Marti did was despicable. She clearly is completely obsessed with you. I already could see that. But now hearing about this! She truly frightens me. Thranduil, she took advantage of you when she clearly knew you were in pain—how could she not guess that something was wrong if she had to climb through the trees just to approach you? But the point is, anything that happened was her doing, not yours. I would not hold you accountable for it.”

Thranduil drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he whispered softly, reaching to caress her cheek.

Lindomiel’s eyes flashed to his at that declaration. Those were words they had not yet used.  She had seen his love before tonight in his actions and simply in his eyes, but it was good to finally hear him declare it. She studied him for a second longer before leaning forward again and putting her arms around his neck. “And I love you,” she whispered against his hair.

He pulled her closer in response, placing a kiss on her hair. Then he released her, tempted to place another kiss on her cheek. But he was not certain if now was a completely appropriate time to allow this to develop further. So instead, he sat back, contenting himself by drawing his hand softly against her cheek.

Lindomiel could easily read that he would have preferred to do more than that. She laughed at him softly and he raised his eyebrows. In response she gave him an exasperated look. “Thranduil, how long must we play this game? I feel the same harmony in your presence that you feel in mine. Even elflings might recognize their perfect compliment and become betrothed until they come of age, but I am no child. I recognize what we share and I know you do too.”

“Of course I do, Lindomiel. Though I would have never imagined how deeply it would affect me…”

“Yes, I see that it has affected you. You are clearly completely lost. Nana says that is because you are a naturally passionate and intense personality, but ada says it is because you are old and depraved…” she interrupted with a joking tone.

Thranduil blew out a sharp but clearly amused breath at that, happy to return to a lighter mood. “I am so pleased that you and your parents have performed such a thorough analysis of the situation, Lindomiel,” he said sarcastically.

She smirked at him.

He looked at her wryly before becoming serious again. “I am a very ‘passionate and intense personality,’ Lindomiel. I tend to extremes of emotions and I always have. Because I am older, I am in better control of myself than I was in my youth. Where we are concerned, I tend to think I am so intensely drawn to you because we are so perfectly matched.” He lowered his eyes and his voice. “I cannot describe to you how I feel when you are with me…completely content…whole in a way I have never experienced…drawn to you…” he shook his head, brow furrowing and unable to continue for lack of words.

Her hand rose to caress his cheek and she left it lying against his face softly. “You do not have to explain how you feel to me, Thranduil, for I am experiencing the same thing.”

He looked at her intently, his emotions written plainly on his face. Then he looked down again. “But we both know that for someone in my position there is more involved in this decision than simply being drawn to one another.”

She stifled the urge to roll her eyes and smiled indulgently at him instead. “Your concern that I be comfortable in Eryn Galen and your lifestyle,” she said nodding. “What must I do to convince you that I love Eryn Galen and the people here? How many times must I tell you that?”

“Lindomiel,” he replied softly. “I want you to take this topic seriously. I want you to be happy. If you married any other elf, your life would be considerably easier. If you bind yourself to me, your entire life will be public. Festivals will become responsibilities. And although naneth manages my household, I am certain you will feel pressure to take on some of those duties…”

Lindomiel was laughing. “Thranduil, I have taken this seriously. Do you think I have been completely idle here? Your lady mother and I have discussed what my responsibilities to your estate would be at length. I am already perfectly familiar with a public life. And I have been in Eryn Galen an entire season. I am sufficiently familiar with it to say with confidence that I find it lovely here. I am happy when I am with you. Surely you understand that it matters very little whether I accept your lifestyle or not—because I cannot be happy without you.”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows, surprise evident, but said nothing.

She shook her head. “You are hopeless, Thranduil,” she laughed, knowing that she would get no further with this discussion tonight then she did any other night. So instead of pursuing it, she changed the topic, focusing on the original purpose for this meeting. She wanted to make sure she had made her point clearly.

“Regarding Marti,” she began, “I did not tell you this to ask for explanations because we are courting. I need no such explanations—I am certain I know you better. I told you about this because if she speaks this way about the King of Eryn Galen on a regular basis, that is cause for concern. By speaking as she does, she demonstrates a lack of respect that is unacceptable and her words serve to undermine your reputation in a way that could be very dangerous.”

Thranduil frowned at that analysis. “It is idle gossip from a spurned elleth. I doubt it could have serious political ramifications,” he replied, but did not sound entirely certain of his own words.

Lindomiel looked at him firmly. “Thranduil, I have seen this in Lorien. Amroth…I love him dearly, but he is making a fool of himself pursuing a Silvan maiden named Nimrodel. She is a friend of mine, though we are not close. She is closer to our mutual friend Mithrellas, who I think you met. The vast majority of people in Lorien believe Amroth is a very fine king and they love him. But there is a small group that feels he dedicates too much time to courting and too little to governance. They began as a few, separate malcontents. I have watched that group grow and unify—very slowly, but steadily nonetheless—because of well-placed gossip generated by a few of its most outspoken members.” She paused for emphasis. “How you manage Eryn Galen is not my affair, but I cannot in good conscience fail to caution you to take Marti seriously. She has been foolish thus far—I am not a good target for her gossip for I will never believe her or be frightened off by such things. What if she spoke to more easily swayed people?  An obvious example—imagine what my adar would do if he heard the story Marti told me.”

Lindomiel was surprised when Thranduil only laughed ruefully. “Apparently after Marti spoke to you, she tracked your adar down. He has already discussed this topic with me. Though I did not provide him with the same level of detail that I gave you.”

Lindomiel’s eyes grew wide as the moon. She was completely distracted again by that revelation. “Valar, Thranduil! What did he do? He would not take something like this lightly.”

Thranduil smiled at her concern. “Surprisingly, he did not believe her either. Like you, he only warned me that Marti was a danger.”

Lindomiel looked at Thranduil with pleased amazement. “Well, that is a step in the right direction,” she exclaimed.

Thranduil smirked. “He told me that it pained him to admit it.”

Lindomiel only laughed at that. “I cannot believe you discussed this with my adar, but it only proves I am right. If she would speak to my adar, who she does not even know, she will gossip to anyone. And her intent is nothing but malicious. Choosing my adar to speak to demonstrates a clear intent to do more than simply gossip idly. She clearly intended to cause damage. And that was not the first time. She has done the same thing to me. I am perfectly aware of what she says about me on a regular basis and the affect it has had. I would not want her to do the same to you.”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed dangerously at that and he leaned forward slightly in his chair, hands tightly grasping its arms. “What did you say? What do you mean that you are aware of ‘what she says about you on a regular basis?’ What has she said? And what effect has it had?”

Lindomiel looked at Thranduil cautiously. “I can fight my own battles, Thranduil. I do not need your protection…”

“I asked you what she has said,” he demanded firmly.

Lindomiel grimaced slightly, recognizing his determination and the futility of fighting it. “She spread some rumors regarding our swim…the one of the first day I was here…and a few other things that we have done that might be looked upon in a less than innocent light if misconstrued. Her intent was obviously to paint me as…well, as here to seduce you, I suppose. Some of her friends believe her and treat me rather distantly.”

Thranduil looked at her levelly. “You should not have to endure such disrespect, nor shall you,” he replied simply with carefully controlled anger. Lindomiel had seen it often enough in her father’s reactions to recognize it in Thranduil.

“That is my point, Thranduil. When she speaks the same of you, you should not tolerate such disrespect. My advice is do not provoke her, simply be cautious of her. She is an annoyance now. Take care that she does not become a threat.”

Thranduil looked at her intently for a moment and she met his gaze firmly. Mouth a tight line, Thranduil leaned back in his chair and made an effort to relax. “I will heed your advice, Lindomiel. I will take Marti more seriously and I will think of a way to deal with her.” His expression softened. “And I cannot begin to express to you how grateful I am for the way you handled this situation.”

She smiled. “There is nothing to be thankful for.”

“Indeed there is. Not everyone would have reacted as you did.” Thranduil stood with a wry expression on his face. “Perhaps we should take ourselves into the public courtyard if we intend to spend more time together tonight. No point in giving the gossips something to talk about. My office is too secluded.”

Lindomiel smirked. “I rather like it. We need more time in such locations,” she replied, but she did rise and take his arm.

“Do not tempt me, Lindomiel,” he retorted playfully. “Remember, I am old and depraved.”

Lindomiel laughed but looked at him slyly. “Perhaps I was trying to tempt you. You need a little temptation, Thranduil. You are far too restrained.”

Thranduil only laughed to that. He doubted there were many people that would describe him as restrained.

*~*~*

Naneth/nana--Mother/mum

Elleth/ellyth--Female elf(s)

Adar/ada--Father/dad