Thranduil ar Meril [Thranduil and Meril]
Meril went to her daughter's rooms and found Thranduil finishing up one
of his famous fables featuring dragons, dwarves and brave Sindarin
knights of Doriath. As usual, some great treasure was
involved. The tale ended with death for the dragons, outsmarting
of the dwarves, and the recovery of a priceless heirloom of the elf
king's house. With a magnificent flourish and fitting dramatic
effect Thranduil presented this worthy item to his elleth dithen
[little girl], seeming to magically produce it from the very
ether. It was a tremendous blood red ruby in a silver box lined
in pure white velvet. Gwilith squealed delightedly, clapping, and
accepted the token with appropriate awe as she exhibited the jewel for
her naneth's inspection.
The royal consort smiled as she approached and kissed Thranduil's
forehead before leaning down to secure the covers round her princess
and press adoring lips against both cherubic cheeks. She made the
obligatory compliments regarding the rarity of so fine an artefact and
bade her elfling sleep. To her husband Meril gave instructions
not to remain over long, keeping their child from her rest, and then
retreated to their chambers to await the chance to unleash her bitter
opposition.
Her patience was not tested, however, for Thranduil followed less than
an hour later.
"Tell me about Erebor," he demanded peremptorily and settled in his
armchair by the fireside.
Meril started in surprise, for she had not heard this tone from her
husband before. This was not the churlish irritation reserved for
remarks directed at the woodland populace at large, reminiscent of a
long-suffering superior dismayed by his underlings' lack of mental
acuity. Neither was this the bored timbre he often adopted for
brief replies to her long-winded retelling of day to day events within
the Realm. Yet, it was also not the distrustful reserve fringing
the syllables of state Thranduil used when treating with foreigners or
elves of Noldo descent.
At least, she reflected,
the words were not spoken in the
searing
acrimonious contempt that coats even his faintest reference to the
former Queen. Meril's heart thudded irregularly for a second,
for while his mood matched none of the negative sort to which he was by
habit inclined, the short sentence also held nothing of the indulgent
and adoring devotion he professed to feel for her. This was an
order; abrupt and to the point, stated with cold confidence of
immediate obedience. She approached cautiously and sat in the
corresponding seat on the opposite side of the grate.
"What do you mean, tell you of Erebor? I am no warrior; I was
never there," she stalled, hoping to draw him out and discover if he
had facts or only suspicions.
"Very well." How he despised this vocal two-step. A talk
between bond-mates aught not to proceed after the fashion of opponents
circling and feinting, attempting to uncover each other's
weaknesses. "Do you mean that you have no knowledge of what
transpired?" he leaned forward and watched her eyes keenly, for though
he was loath to admit it he suspected his wife of being a rather gifted
liar.
"Nay, that is not what I said. I learned from others what
happened; my husband was killed at the feet of the Lonely Mountain
defending Andamaitë, his comrade in arms."
"From others, such as Lindalcon? Are your own dreams not affected
by the visions to which he attested today?"
"He said this?" she almost wailed out the query and wrung her
hands. "Ai! He did not mention that to me! What did
he say?"
Thranduil assessed her manner and her vocal signals and found both fear
in them and truth; she had not been aware of her son's dreams and was
genuinely fearful over the impact on the youth rather than what these
images forebode.
Or so she appears. He sighed
heavily and
rubbed his eyes with his hands, rising to pace around the room.
"Lindalcon stated quite earnestly that his father will never rest until
the truth of Erebor is revealed. Whenever he sleeps, your son
relives the battle as his adar experienced it."
Complete with
the horrific moment of death, no doubt!
"Niena's Tears! When will this nightmare release us?
Lindalcon does not deserve to suffer thus!" she cried and clenched her
hands together in her lap, one tremendous fist of helpless rage.
"Indeed he does not. Meril, you will need to explain this
fully. You must see that the past will not simply fade away
because you wish it."
"Explain? What am I to divulge? I am not the one enduring
these apparitions and I was not on the battlefield. You ought to
know more than I for you led the soldiers hence!"
"Do not bring that up!" he spun in his steps and faced her, features
framed in restrained reproach. Too familiar was this scene for
his liking and a part of his soul recoiled, seeking shelter behind an
icy wall of contemptuous self-righteousness he thought their love had
melted away forever. "We are not discussing why Valtamar was
there but why he died there! I find it strange that you are not
perturbed by memories of your first husband, almost as if you wish to
purge him from your thoughts."
"How can you take me to task for giving over my grief and indulging the
love we have discovered? You speak as if I had something to do
with Valtamar's end! That is what the Tawarwaith said to
me! You believe that outcast over the words of your wife, the
mother of your children?"
"Is that what he said to you, Meril, that you were the cause of
Valtamar's demise?" Two steps brought him to the side of her
chair. He gazed down upon his wife with fearful intensity as a
sudden phantom of Ningloriel rose within his mind. "Yesterday you
indicated he threatened you and our children for naming him as the
culprit. Yet, in court he insisted fervently that he is the only
one to blame. That hardly seems consistent with your claims."
"Ai! You are turning all my words around! I cannot conceive
why you have abandoned me, Enedh o Guren [Centre of my Heart]!"
Meril presented her spouse with an expression emergent from
soul-betrayed outrage. Tears began to spill down the Woodland inu's
cheeks in silent testimony to her distraught mind.
"I am not deserting you, Iaunen [My Sanctuary], I am right here," the
King knelt beside her chair and clasped her rigid hands between his
gently. Truly did he love her and so desperately desired to
trust. He looked resolutely into the overbrimming orbs of rich
walnut brown and felt his conviction waver a mite.
How could he doubt her? Meril had shown him only the fullness of
her love and devotion in every way. With joyous delight she had
gifted him with two perfect offspring, the fruition of all his early
hopes for founding a dynastic kingdom in the tradition of
Elwë. With Taurant this golden illusion was finally on the
cusp of actuality.
Then the memory of his tiny son's unfettered lament throughout the day
returned to his thoughts and he squelched his instinct to protect her
from this unpleasantness. "And because you are my beloved I am
asking you these questions in private. Fearfaron, for one, would
not mind asking them in the Council Chambers with the entire population
in attendance."
"You menace me with charges?" Meril gasped out, cringing back against
the cushiony leather and pulling her hands out of his.
"I am doing no such thing; however, I am not stupid." Thranduil rose
and turned away, leaning against the mantle, poking at the glowing
coals in the grate with a booted toe. "There is no consistency
between what you allege and what the Tawarwaith demonstrates. I
do not care about whatever you are hiding except for preventing harm to
our children. This, I believe, is also Tirno's motive.
"You deliberately mislead me regarding his intentions here, and that,
if I may point out, discredited me before our people and my
troops!" He was careful to keep his voice calm and his back to
her for he could hear her sobs building and would not permit himself to
be overwhelmed by empathy for her distress.
"Mislead you? You call me untruthful? How can you say these
things; what have I done to deserve the name liar? How could you
think I would want your authority compromised, the father of my
children?" Her words were wet with teary resentment.
"Then what are you keeping secret? I cannot do what is best for
our little ones if I am in the dark over what is at stake. Can
you not understand this?"
"I understand that you have decided to pardon the outcast and welcome
this unfortunate elf back into the stronghold! I understand that
you will make him your ally even after his accusations against
me! Will you also name him your heir, this bastard child?
This product of, of a criminal so vile there are no punishments
designed for the crime he committed?"
"Nay, Taurant is my heir! Be calm, for you are not making
sense. Elrond of Rivendell has ever been the suspected sire
although some recent evidence points to…"
"Aye, there are those that love you and would have spared you further
hurt. Yet you do not care to shelter me in the same regard.
You ask for truth; let me tell you a fact long hidden by your former
queen. I am one of many who have known for centuries that
Ningloriel kept another lover all those many years. Maltahondo is
that outcast's father!"
Whatever distraction from her own part in events she had hoped to
create with her words was far exceeded by the depth of the reaction she
induced in her husband. Upon hearing this startling
pronouncement, Thranduil turned with ashen face and eyes aghast and
somehow managed to find his way to the chair, dropping down in it with
such a look of dread that his wife quailed and pressed deeper into the
luxurious leather covered seat.
"Meril, what you speak cannot be."
"I assure you it is! Ask the guardsman; see if he can deny his
longstanding devotion to your chosen mate. Speak to Ben'waeth;
she is the one who told me. Perhaps her words are more reliable
than mine!" Meril attempted to retain the haughty tone of a
wronged wife even as her own soul began to writhe in fear for whatever
brought on this alteration of Thranduil's demeanour.
"Stop this! You are not omniscient, Meril, and this is not about
your wounded feelings over being disbelieved. I ask you once
more; is what you say true? Was Ningloriel the corpsman's
mistress early enough for him to have begot the child?"
And Meril peered at her husband's handsome face fraught with dire
distress and cast with a haunted pallor. He looked as if he had
just envisioned a judgement of terrible harshness about to befall
him. He had not appeared so haggard and depleted since his return
from the gates of Mordor. She could not find words to answer and
could only stare in consternation at this unexpected result.
Her silence was sufficient. Thranduil had no doubt of the
veracity of her claims regarding the former Queen's behaviour. As
to the rest of it, he could not stand to think of this
possibility. He covered his face in his hands, shaking his
head.
Let that not be so! What manner of elf would bed
his
child? Does Tirno comprehend his repulsive plight? The
words of Fearfaron once again answered him:
'Legolas believes what
your constant accusations of his mother taught him! For now, that
is an easier lie for him to bear than the truth!'.
Thranduil shuddered; this was all too foul; how could any elf bear
living in the fullness of this shame revealed? And if Legolas found out
and his spirit departed for Mandos' domain, would Thranduil be
responsible for that also?
Aye, you turned away from the
child;
everyone understood he held no worth, including the corpsman.
He
took a deep breath and lowered his hands, staring through fiery eyes at
his mate.
"The import of what you say I am certain you fail to discern, yet this
must not be repeated, for though you claim many were aware I believe
for the most part it was not suspected. Especially given the
volume of attention her other lover's identity received. I will
have your word of assurance; no further talk of this!"
"Why, what is it you fear?"
"Do not bargain with me! I need you to make this solemn promise!"
"I cannot fathom why you are suddenly so concerned over that outcast
elf! He seems more important to you than your own children!"
"You try my resolve, Meril! If you cannot see that my failure to
properly safeguard that elf's childhood, regardless of his parentage,
has led us all to this very moment then I have not the means to
explain. He was right to warn of doom falling on my children; he
had every reason to apprehend exactly how horrendous that could be."
"Now you are not being logical! How are you responsible for the
errors of his mother? What control had you over the source of her
impregnation? Thranduil, you sound as though you would claim
Tirno for your own!"
"As a wiser soul than I has repeated several times over recent years:
Who fathered the child is irrelevant, and being a Wood Elf you were
born to accept this. And if I had no control over his siring,
then he certainly could not bear the responsibility for it.
"This being true, why was he the one burdened with my hatred and
derision? Just so others could have the satisfaction of observing
the abhorrence with which I treated the elfling, so that someone cruel
and cold could laugh over the destruction of an unsuspecting
soul. Now that vindictive resentment spreads to encompass
Gwilwileth and Taurant. Is that preferable to you over giving a
simple vow of silence?
"And I was so easy to manipulate!" Thranduil got up and stalked to the
fire again, an expression hard as iron and cold as stone upon his face
as the flickering firelight lent those pallorous plains the false glow
of red warmth. "Every bit of it I accepted without question, for
if Ningloriel would dishonour her bonds of marriage what is a lie to
such a one? I did not believe the child could be
mine. Not until these latter days, when the damage has been
accomplished, do I see the possibility is just as likely for my seed to
have grown the child as another's.
"Someone must pay for these sins, and if what you have just told me
regarding Maltahondo is so, then the damages have just increased a
thousand-fold. I have much to amend if I would spare my children a
cursed destiny! I tell you, I will not have them suffer for deeds
in which they could neither participate nor even imagine. I pray
Elbereth they will never attain that ability.
"You must decide whether you will stand beside me in righting as many
of these wrongs as can be undone. Holding your tongue on this
obscene gossip is not a great task, yet that is what I require of you
as your part. That, and a truthful account of what you understand about
Erebor!"
Meril was stunned into silence by this long tirade, much of it
contradictory and incomprehensible to her. Thranduil had an air
of desperation about him that frightened her and his portentous
reference to curses and debts owed that their children must remit was a
hideous concept. She began to weep bitter tears of genuine
confusion and despair and threw herself on her knees at his feet,
burying her head on his lap, shoulders shaking with her body's efforts
to expel the overwhelming emotions.
Thranduil gently stroked her glossy hair and waited, for he felt that
this night he would learn more than he had sought regarding the weight
of the fate Ningloriel's child had borne, alone and without hope for
anything other than a violent death, since the Judgement of
Erebor. His instinct already told him the fault would not belong
to the wild elf, but to someone with a motive entirely removed from
anything to do with him or with political intrigue and conspiracies
designed to usurp power. It was going to be something deeply
rooted in personal spite and hatred. So it must, for thus had
been the pattern revealed to him thus far.
"I loved Valtamar, this you must accept," she at last began to whisper
and raised her eyes, strained and alight with a frantic gleam, to his.
Thranduil gripped her arm and lifted Meril up onto his lap, wrapping
his arms around her as her head nestled in the crook of his neck.
This was difficult to hear, for if love was so quick to come and go
within her heart, what did that foretell of the bond they shared?
"Aye, it is nothing unexpected for an elleth to love. Go on."
"He wanted many elflings; I would not consent. He was a warrior,
and I suffered the death of my father at a young age. The Last
Alliance claimed him and his remains lie in the stagnant waters of the
Dead Marshes. My mother faded quickly thereafter, leaving me to
rear my three younger siblings. I did my best, but in the end I
lost the littlest; she died of grief. Then I sent the other two
over sea at once."
"You did not join them, why?"
"Valtamar. He served with my father; was there when he met his
end. He did try to make me do so, even though he loved me dearly
even then. I was comforted by his love, and came to return
it. I could not go and leave him alone. He would not
abandon the Greenwood, for seasoned warriors were fewer in number after
the Last Alliance and needed here.
"Those early years were wondrous and we lived in joy despite the
growing dangers from the Necromancer. During the Watchful Peace
Valtamar was seldom far from my side and he once more renewed his
request for offspring. I resisted long, for I did not trust to
the Weaver's [Vairë, Vala of Destiny] compassion and felt my fate
was always to be marked by loss, as it has ever been for a spearman's
daughter and a warrior's wife.
"Nearly six hundred years did I make him wait, perpetually begging this
gift of me on every Edinor Dû'wîthiel [Binding-Night
Anniversary]. I do not recall what swayed me after such steadfast
refusal. Yet I have never regretted relenting to Valtamar's
unceasing pleas; Lindalcon was our delight and my only consolation upon
his death, prior to my union with you.
"Once our son was in his twenties, however, my husband began to demand
more babes. We argued much and the strain grew between us.
Valtamar saw my refusal as insecurity and deemed he had failed as my
spouse and as a soldier. I could not make him see I was guarding
Lindalcon against the pain I endured on losing my parents and my
siblings.
"By then we were often apart due to the increased activity of Orcs and
the need for longer and longer tours of patrol. Then one morn he
was brought home badly wounded and I nearly went berserk, shouting at
him that I would leave and take Lindalcon with me to Aman if he did not
resign his commission and seek a less dangerous life.
"He called me a coward and faithless! He accused me of caring
nothing for Greenwood and our child's future, of forgetting Tawar and
the bounty of the trees. We resolved the conflict but things were
not the same there after. And though we did share a bond, I ceased to
lay with him. Of course we did not reveal any of this to Lindalcon and
he never discovered our discord.
"Valtamar knew his rights under the Law yet did not invoke them openly
as he should. This was for Lindalcon's sake, but far better would
that upheaval have been than the truth he was attempting to conceal
from us!" Meril burst into fresh tears, but these were of anger
and abused pride, not sorrow and despair. Thranduil caressed her
hair and closed his eyes as he pressed her head against his shoulder.
"Valtamar took a consort," he said and felt her nod avowal.
"Oh far worse! He got her with child, a warrior in his
company. She was wedded and the scandal would have destroyed any
happiness we had left. How could I let him break Lindalcon's
heart that way? I would not suffer it or have my child shamed
thus!" Her weeping increased intensity for several minutes as
Thranduil sought to comfort her, but already he had a sick feeling in
his stomach regarding the completion of this tale.
"What did you do about it?" he prompted when the tears subsided yet she
did not resume speaking. He felt her take a long shuddering
breath and release it slowly, so slowly, as if she was at last purging
all the pain and anger she had harboured hidden in her heart for
centuries.
"The mate of this inu warrior came to me. He was outraged.
He wanted to have them answer for their deeds before the Council, but I
pleaded for him to consider the children, Lindalcon and the growing
life in her womb, blameless of any wrongs. He relented, but said
he would not have a bastard foisted upon him to raise. He said he
would deal with them and that the child would never breathe air.
"Again I begged mercy for this unborn elfling! I urged him to
confront his mate and demand she remove to Aman or at least to
Mithlond. This would solve our dilemma without jeopardising
innocent life. He said he would consider it.
"The next day, the call came up for the march to Erebor. The rest
you know. I fear this elf made good his threats and was the cause
for the deaths of at least two of the Lost Warriors, Valtamar and
Andamaitë." She stopped speaking and snuggled against her
husband as if ready for repose, heaving another great lungful to
cleanse her soul.
Thranduil frowned; if the warrior inu involved with Valtamar was
Andamaitë then Rochendil was the irate mate. This was the
real name of Ailinyéro, the elf banished by the Council for
molesting the outcast under the veil of seeking retribution by
chastisement. A link had been established, but most tenuous was
this thread connecting the parties. Something was not quite right.
"What of the archer? How is Legolas involved in all this?
How did Rochendil manage it?" He felt Meril shrug listlessly.
"He was not, at least not in the scandal. I have no idea how
Rochendil made all this come about. I assumed he merely saw a
chance to create a scapegoat for his crimes."
"What of Maltahondo? Where does he fit into this? Was he
part of the plot to blame Legolas?"
"Nay, I do not believe so. I think he was as unaware of what was
taking place as was his charge."
"But you condemned Legolas, too! You demanded the fullness of the
sentence, a punishment he did not deserve."
"I went along with everyone else! How could I reveal all when
that would only add to Lindalcon's grief? I would not risk my
child's life! He was so devastated by the loss of his father, to
tarnish his happy memories would have been brutally cruel.
"As for the mandates I made that day, perhaps they were not
fair. Would you hold me to account now? Are the love
we have found and the family we have produced insufficient
justification for that small infraction? Legolas did not really
belong to anyone; he was just another archer, and his death would not
even be remarked in Greenwood. No one thought him able to survive
a year on his own, much less seventeen. It was never to come to
this sort of conclusion."
Thranduil did not reply, for he was sorely grieved. Of course she
did not think Legolas would last. No doubt she fully expected
Ailinyéro's treatment would make a quick end of him and then the
entire mess would just be forgotten.
I thought as much myself, even hoped for it. A foul taste
of
ashes burned his throat and the stench of carrion filled his nostrils
as if he was standing again upon the plain of Dagorlad, watching his
father sacrifice himself for the beliefs of the Wood Elves.
He understood the derangement that could overcome the mind and
subjugate the soul during mourning. He had done things he was not
proud of during the earliest years of his struggle to defeat his sorrow
and rebuild the Realm Oropher had abandoned. No one had called
him to answer for any of it nor would they. Those cognisant of
these actions were three in number. Talagan he trusted not to
speak and the other two resided in Aman.
Even as Meril's would-be accusers are unreachable; Rochendil in
Eldamar and the two warriors Wandering. It was with a rather
sardonic twist of conscience that Thranduil recognised the degree of
similarity between their two characters, his wife and him.
He could not condemn Meril if he could not condemn himself.
With a heavy sigh he shifted, for Meril had gone lax as she dropped
into an exhausted slumber in his arms. He rose and carried her to
their bed and laid her down upon it, pressing a sombre kiss upon her
brow and draping a light blanket over her.
Quietly he returned to the nursery and stood gazing down upon his
infant son. He smiled and softly touched the shock of wispy hair
covering the perfect rounded head. But his smile died away as he
stared at Taurant and the uneasy nagging sensation returned to his
thoughts resolving into a clear and unsettling doubt within his mind.
If Andamaitë and Valtamar were expecting a child, would either one
have volunteered for the duty of distracting those Goblin
bodyguards? Indeed, would they not seek the healer's dispensation
and forestall Andamaitë from marching out of the stronghold at all?
Tbc
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