Chapter 32: a new dawn

Thranduil waved back when Legolas turned toward him. He was holding onto the hand of his nanny just before the two slipped inside the nursery. The King sighed. This was the first time his son went with Loriel alone without either him or one of his older brothers accompanying him.

Six weeks had passed since Thoran´s death but the ordeal had left deep marks on the soul of the little elfling. His injuries – two broken ribs and a concussion - had healed cleanly but it wasn’t the bodily hurts that needed time to heal.

After his abduction the child had refused to stray far from any of his family members and no night had passed without the King being ripped from his sleep by the anguished screams of the frightened boy.

Thranduil had needed many hours and much talking to reassure his son that the bad elf could no longer hurt or even reach him and that he could feel perfectly safe even if none of his siblings or he were near. Until now this promise had only been accepted reluctantly; one day was better, the next day was not.

Even so, Thranduil was surprised and overjoyed when Legolas had declared during breakfast today that he was eager to join his friends in the nursery and announced earnestly that he would go there with only nanny Loriel as a companion.

Galadhion and Saeron had praised the courage of their little brother highly, affirming how big the boy had already become to go alone. Thranduil smiled indulgently at the display and thanked his older sons silently for their support.

However, when Legolas had disappeared behind the nursery door the forced smiles on the faces of the three royal elves had vanished. The youngest member of the family was not the only one who had to cope with what had occurred during the short reign of Thoran.

The injuries of Galadhion and Saeron had also healed well, a slight limp was all that remained of the severe break of Saeron´s leg and only two days earlier Galadhion had been given leave to once again put strain on his broken collarbone.

Even though his sons were old enough to handle what had happened Thranduil knew that they also fought from time to time with their memories and emotions. Even he had to admit that the nearly ten-week-ordeal during which Thoran had turned his well organized kingdom upside down had left scars that would need time to heal.

He had offered his older two sons the same comfort he was bestowing on Legolas every day. But neither Galadhion nor Saeron had talked much about what was troubling them during the intervals when they had time to think about all that happened. Thranduil was not pressing them but he had made it clear that he would always have an open ear for any of their worries.

He had spent many an evening with his sons simply talking, playing games or enjoying each other´s company. It had helped all of them much more then endless talks about a topic best stored in the past.

As soon as possible the King had returned to his everyday schedule and had cautiously but firmly made it clear that he expected the same from everyone who had been involved in the revolution of Thoran. Sadly this applied to nearly everyone inside the palace as well as many elves who were working outside.

Galadhion had quickly rearranged the patrols and re-established the realm’s security as it had been before. Everyone knew that this was only as good as the warriors providing it, yet their routine was quickly settled like before and was more powerful than the chaos Thoran´s short reign had left.

Thranduil had also carefully observed every member of his staff as far as he could. As predicted, an action such as a revolution left much uncertainty and distrust. Every word or suggestion, even if it was wholly innocent, was regarded with suspicion and much hesitation.

Most of the staff and the workers who were doing everything possible to run the palace life were likely falsely under suspicion. But Thranduil was also sure that a few of Thoran´s fellows and silent supporters had merely retreated back into the shadows and were waiting and observing. This fact left a bad taste in his mouth every time he thought about it.

He had reassured his youngest that he could feel perfectly safe again within the palace walls, but could he really? The King shook his head angrily. This was no atmosphere he could have or wanted to work in. He had to be sure of his subjects´ loyalties or he had to make sure that they could easily leave his service.

Only eight elves who had verifiably helped Thoran had been discovered and condemned. Five of them had not stepped away from their convictions and made no secret of their further plans to rebel again if possible. They had been banned from the realm of Mirkwood. The remaining three had accepted that they had transgressed against the law and they would be kept under custody in the capital until the King decided how to proceed further with them.

Saeron had returned to his routine and to a casual observer all seemed to have returned to normalcy again. He had led another mission into the south to make sure that the orcs had really been defeated and that no new evil was brewing there.

Saeron had again brought his father’s offer to move closer to the palace to the settlers in the farthest south. To his surprise a few families had accepted the invitation. Only the hardliners still objected and Saeron had not made the offer twice.

While thinking about the events in the south Thranduil was reminded that the victory there did not belong to the wood elves alone. Only with the help from the warriors of Imladris and Lothlórien had this been achieved.

He felt no regret. In truth, he felt a deep gratitude and had not missed the opportunity to thank the sons of Elrond and Celeborn, the Lord of the Golden Wood, for their quick and unconditional help. He knew he would never be able to repay the favour, yet the bonds between the realms had been strengthened and as alien as this concept had felt in the beginning it was welcome now.

He had also expressed his thanks in long letters to Elrond and Galadriel personally explaining all the details as far as they were known to him. He had not held back affirming that without their help he would probably no longer be among the living and the situation south of the Anduin would not have changed for the better.

A short time earlier he had held a long talk with Thariel, the widow of Luindil. His advisor had been killed by Thoran while trying to prevent Thoran´s escape.

Even if accused of high treason the king had intended to keep the elf in his service. Thranduil knew he had only agreed to help Thoran because the rioter had threatened him with the possible death of his son. Luindil would have been forced to stay in the capital under custody until he was again sure of where his loyalties truly lay, and he had made sure that this restriction would not extend to his advisor’s family.

Thranduil was shocked that Luindil had been killed while doing exactly what Thranduil had accused him of failing to do: staying loyal to his King. Luindil had by chance discovered that a guard of the palace watch, Erelas, had freed Thoran from his cell. Believing that he now had the chance to at least assuage some of his fault, Luindil had tried to stop the two elves but had only managed to wound Erelas before Thoran had killed him in cold blood.

He assured Thariel that he would do everything necessary to provide the little family with their needs, but Luindil´s widow had declined all offers and only ask for permission to leave the capital behind. She made clear her intention to never return. She had relatives in Lothlórien and she intended to stay with them.

There was nothing left to him then but to comply with her request. She had left his office without as much as a look back. Thranduil sighed. Once again it was a fate Thoran had shaped and again he was unable to alter it.

He finished his day and again he lay awake until the dawn broke. Like every night Legolas had padded into his room and silently slipped under his bedcovers.

Without a comment Thranduil snuggled the little body against him and closed his eyes knowing that sleep would again elude him. Fortunately his son slept on without his usual night terrors and so he was able to relax too.

When the room brightened heralding a new day Thranduil sighed and made a silent vow. Like the dawn now approaching he would look forward. He would no longer let his bitter feelings control him, and he would try to follow his own advice by letting the past move behind him and come to rest.

The end.