Disclaimer: I own nothing of Middle Earth or any of Tolkien's worlds or characters. I have no permission to use these characters. This story was written for enjoyment only.

Note: Any spelling errors or character errors are my mistakes. I do not know everything of Middle Earth, so please forgive any mistakes that you might find.

A/N: We lay our scene on Dagorlad on the first days of the first year of the third era, one of the first days both elves and men dared to hope again. 

I saw the shadow decline
In another world, another time
Reflecting battles full of fear
So far away from home
Death has been near

I fought for liberty and faith
For survival of our race
The toll of blood it has been high
The dead will never see again
The sun up in the sky

Wavering on his feet he stared at the elves in front of him.  “Me?” he thought “A king?”

“Adar?” he asked softly and looked at the elf standing besides him, suddenly feeling like an elfling again.  The dark haired elf shook his head sadly and suddenly he felt his knees grow weak.  The elf grabbed his arm and supported him back inside the tent.

Sinking down on the cot he laid down and closed his eyes.

“You should rest” a soft voice spoke in his head, “you are not fit to walk as of yet.”

He opened his eyes and stared at the dark haired elf again who now sat besides him on the cot and placed a cool cloth on his forehead.

“Elrond” he spoke, “I can not do this” he whispered.  “I have not the strenght my father had.”

Elrond smiled sadly and sighed.

“You will do well” the Lord of Imladris spoke softly and checked his bandages which had shifted when he walked outside.  “Now rest” he said sternly.  “I will check on you in a few hours.”

When the elf had left he allowed his tears to fall, he could feel them trickle into his ears and on to the pillow.  “My father has died” he sobbed silently and closed his eyes to see the image of him standing in front of him, laughing out loud.  Several more tears fell to the pillow.  “I am alone” he tought next and watched as his mother’s ship sailed into the West.  “Adar, Naneth!” he called their names, “Don’t leave me here all alone!”

When Elrond returned an hour later he found him still awake.  His patient had wiped his tears quickly but the stains on the pillow betrayed him.

“I can’t sleep” he sighed when Elrond looked at him questionning.

“Do not dwell on the past” Elrond spoke softly and replaced the cloth on his forehead.  “The future needs your attention now.”

“What future?” he asked, “I am alone, I have no future.”

“You are grieving” Elrond spoke patiently, “Soon you will see those who need you and then you will see your future.”

“What about me?” he asked his voice but a whisper.  “Where are those I need?”

“They are right there” Elrond said and placed his hand on his chest, covering his heart.  “What had happened, has happened, there is nothing we can do.”

“What can I do then, when there’s nothing left?” 

“We move on” Elrond answered him softly and sat down next to him again.  “You have to be strong, it’s what your father would have wanted.”

He remained silent for a long time and thought about what Elrond had said.  Meanwhile the darkhaired elf had gotten up again and had started to mix several herbs together in a cup with some boiling water.

“I will make him proud” the patient on the cot said with conviction after a while.  “Where ever he is, I’ll make him proud of me!”

“That’s more like it” Elrond turned and smiled.  “But first, you have to get well again.  Here drink this” he continued and offered him the cup with the steaming liquid.  “It will help you sleep, help you heal” he answered the look in his eyes and watched as the elf on the cot swallowed hardly and handed back the cup sinking back in the pillows again waiting for the effects of the drug to take over.

When he finally slept, Elrond stepped up and removed the bandages on his patient.  The large gash on the side of the elf’s head caused him to worry, worry that his skull might have been fractured.  The wound on his chest already showed signs of healing, but the edges looked black.  Although the wound had been cleaned, some of the Orc filth remained inside while they had closed it to keep it from bleeding.

Elrond sighed deeply before reaching for a bowl of disinfectioning balm and applied it to the wound gently.  He knew the elf suffered from a high fever due to the wound and the wound on his head would cause him halucinations.  It would be best if he remained a sleep while his body mended, his heart would have to wait it’s turn.

Covering the elf’s body with a sheet Elrond left the tent and squinted at the sunlight that shone directly in his face.

“How fares our king?” an elf whose head was covered in a bandage asked Elrond as he left the tent.  Elrond laughed shortly and mused over the elf’s words. “He left as a prince, yet he’ll return a king” he thought and smiled sadly. His patient didn’t believe he was ready to be a king, yet his subjects looked up at him thus.

“King Thranduil will be fine” Elrond spoke loudly and moved away from the entrance to the tent. 

I will return
Return to where I belong
Where I belong

Slowly he strolled through the garden, his chest and head still ached.  The wounds refused to heal, as if death refused to let the elf go who should have died.  Died as so many others had. 

He had read the lists with the names of those who didn’t return, he had known them all, known their families.  When he suddenly reached his father’s name he had crumpled up the pieces of paper in his hand as tears obscured his view and tossed them through the room.

As he had left the room angrily, one of the servant women, Lindëlas picked up the pieces of paper and smoothed the creases out of the paper before putting them back on the desk with a sigh.  Absently she allowed her fingertips to caress one single name on the list before moving away from the desk, after the king. 

******

He could see the looks on their faces as he passed them by, they bowed for him but he could see in their eyes they didn’t approve of him.  From the moment he got back, his father’s advisors had swarmed him with reports and lists and numbers.  Frankly, those where the last things he needed right now, and the last things Mirkwood needed.

Mostly he just nodded and did what they told him to do, but as soon as he could get away from them, he’d walk into the garden to have some peace and quiet.  Usually the memories of times past flew in before his eyes.

The same reason he hadn’t slept since they had came back home.  His father’s things had all been removed from his bedroom and replaced by Thanduil’s.  He hated being in that room, everything still brought memories to his mind. 

The big bed he had slept in with his father and mother as an elfling when scared by sounds that seemed to originate from everywhere.

The place he had shattered naneth’s precious vase.  The times he spent under their bed, pretending to search for treasures which were nothing but his mother’s jewellery.

He remembered all those things so vividly, although thousands of years had passed by since then.  He could see them dancing his their room, he saw them even in colour, where now he only saw shades of grey.

“My Lord?” a voice suddenly pulled him from his dreams and he looked up at where it had come from blinking several times.  He saw an elleth standing in front of him, looking worried and he smiled.

“Lindëlas” he thought, “she always worries”

“My Lord, it is pouring, please come inside” she spoke again and reached for his arm.

Suddenly he realised it was indeed raining, lifting his hands and looked at his garments which were entirely soaked and started laughing.

“Indeed it is raining” he spoke, “I had not noticed it until now” and looked up at the elleth who was also soaked now.  He slowly stood but made no movements to go inside.

“Are you not well?” Lindëlas asked frowning at his comment, “it has been raining all day.  Come we need to get those wet clothes off of you.”

“Wet clothes?” he mused and looked at the elleth again.  Her blond hair sticked to her face and her dress clung to her body.  He could see drops of rain trail down from her head over her cheeks and neck and suddenly snapped out of his reveries completely.  “You are soaked!” he exclaimed and wrapped his arms around her trying to warm her up again.

“I’m not cold my Lord” she pushed him away.  “It’s you I’m worried about, you have been sitting here all evening.  Please come inside.  Your wounds need to be treated.”

He snorted and turned his back to her again.

“My wounds are fine” he muttered.  “It’s my heart that needs treatment” he thought.

“My Lord please” Lindëlas asked him again and pulled his arm.  “Please come inside, I beg of you.”

“They all left me behind Lindëlas” he sighed and turned his head to her again, “everybody leaves me behind.  Will you leave me behind as well?”

“My Lord” Lindëlas exclaimed, “I am but a servant, I can not leave you” she paused briefly and lowered her head.  “Unless that is your wish” she whispered.

“Dear Lindëlas” Thranduil spoke softly and turned around to face her completely, “you have been much more to me then my servant.  You have been with me for as long as I can remember.  You have taken care of me for so long...  I would understand if you grew tired of me, after all, everybody else seems to have...”

“My Lord” she spoke again, this time grabbing hold of his arm tightly.  “You are delirious, I should get you to your bed and call the healers.”

“Why?” he asked moving with her towards the palace finally.  “I do not feel as if I have a fever.”

“I am only in your service for 20 years now my Lord” she whispered and guided him inside.  “You are mistaking me for your mother.”

“Oh?” he asked and stared at her, “right right, you must be right” he mused and followed her willingly.

She led him into the King’s chambers and started to rummage through the drawers to find him dry clothes and handed them. 

“Help me?” he whispered as he tried to get his tunic over his head, but couldn’t get his arms over his head.  Gently she removed the piece of clothing and saw that his bandages had turned crimson yet again.  “Thank you” he whispered, suddenly feeling drained of all strength and grabbed the dry shirt.

“Not yet my Lord” Lindëlas stopped him and took the shirt from his hands.  “First I have to renew your bandage.  It has soaked.”

Looking down he realised she was right and sighed.

“That damn wound just refuses to heal” he muttered.

“Perhaps it is due to the fact that you refuse to stay in bed yourself?” Lindëlas told him while she gathered the necessary items to change the bandage.

“That might be it” he mused and changed his wet leggings with dry ones before she got back and laid back on the bed.

“Here, a towel for you hair” she said when she returned and handed him a warm towel.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked when he draped the towel around his hair.

“My Lord?” she asked, surprised by his question.

“You heard me” he answered, “why do you care for me, when everybody else hates me? Hates me for returning when their loved one did not?”

“You must not speak about such things my Lord” she replied, “nobody hates you.  You are their king.”

“They hate me” he spoke again, “I can see it in their eyes.”

“You must have been mistaken” she repeated again when she sat down carefully next to him and started removing the bandages from his chest.  Carefully she applied the balm that would disinfect the wound as well as speed up the healing proces.

Not feeling up to arguing Thranduil laid back and closed his eyes.  When she covered the wound again with a clean bandage and pulled the shirt over his head, Aranlin entered the room.

“Leave us” the advisor spoke insolent to Lindëlas and motionned her to leave the room.

“Aranlin?” Thranduil asked, “What do you want?” he asked while he watched the elleth leaving the room quickly.

“We have urgent matters to discuss” the advisor started and walked up to the bed.  “Our financial state has been reduced to nihil because of this war, we need to increase taxes.”

“We already took their loved ones, now you want me to take their money?” Thranduil exclaimed pushing himself up, ignoring the pain it caused him.  “We can’t ask them for more money!”

“We must my King, there is nothing left.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You can not refuse, my King.”

“Still I am” Thranduil answered stuborn.  “I will not ask them for it.”

“But then we can not pay them” Aranlin spoke outraged.

“Take the money from my desk” Thranduil spoke and left his bed angrily.  “I will be damned if I ask them even more than they already gave!”

“As you wish my king” Aranlin bowed, but he remained standing where he was.

“Anything else?” Thranduil asked as he walked towards the fireplace.

“Yes my Lord” Aranlin bowed again, “we need to hold a meeting to discuss how we will be able to replenish our treasury.”

“Valar!” Thranduil shouted and turned around briskly, aggravating his injury even further, “Is money everything you think about?  Have you no compassion for your fellow elves?  Some have lost everything!  And all you think about is money?”

“My king, I...” Aranlin tried.

“GET OUT!” Thranduil raged and pointed to the door.

“But my Lord” Aranlin tried again.

“OUT!!!” Thranduil shouted, “By the Valar, get out of my room!!!”

The financial advisor turned so quickly he almost fell over his own feet as he ran towards the door. 

Alarmed by the loud screams that came from the king’s room Lindëlas had run towards the door as well and opened it quickly, almost hitting the advisor in the progress.

“What happened?” she asked bewilderd as she looked from Thranduil to Aranlin.

“He’s gone mad!” the elf muttered.  “I tried to tell him we need more money for our treasury and he started yelling at me!  Mad I tell you!  Compared to him, Oropher was reasonable!” Aranlin muttered and pushed his way out of the room.

“My Lord?” Lindëlas asked as she stepped into the room and looked at Thranduil as he leaned heavily against the mantelpiece.

“No more money!” he spoke tired and waved at her to go away.

“My Lord, you should lay down” Lindëlas spoke softly and took a step closer.

“Oh... Lindëlas” he whispered, “I didn’t see you come in” he continued and turned to face her again.  “Maybe you are right” he spoke softly, “I am not feeling very well”.

The elleth’s eyes went wide as she saw the crimson staines on his shirt and quickly closed the distance as she saw him sink through his legs grabbing his arm just in time and supported him to the bed again.

“Tell me what I am to do Lindëlas” he whispered as he laid down on the bed and closed his eyes.  “Tell me, and this time I will listen.”

“Rest my Lord, I only want you to rest” she spoke softly and started to remove his shirt and bandages again.  When she returned with the ointment to stop the bleeding she found he had already lost consciousness.  Supressing a sigh she finished her work and covered him up with the sheet.  “You try to hard my love” she whispered and caressed his hair after making sure he couldn’t hear her and placed a kiss on his forehead before leaving the room silently.

After Lindëlas had left Thranduil’s room she went to Aranlin’s office and knocked on the door.

“Enter!” the advisor called and she pushed open the door.  “Oh, it’s you” he sighed when he saw her enter the room.  “What do you want?”

“I know we never saw eye to eye on things Aranlin” she started.

“That much is certain” the elf snorted.

“I have not come to ask you…,” she paused.  “I’ve come to ask you to allow the King to rest before you see him again.”

“You are telling me not to go near him?” Aranlin asked frowning angrily.

“He needs to rest!” Lindëlas defended herself.  “If you go near him again, he’ll… I…”

“You’ll what?  Throw me out?” he asked standing up and walking towards her.

“No, not that… I…  His injuries require him to rest, and when you go to see him his condition only deteriorates.”

“Are you saying I’m hindering his healing process?” Aranlin asked again and started to stalk around her eyeing her from all sides.

“Yes!” she spoke wringing her hands nervously, Thranduil’s financial advisor always made her feel unwanted and now he even scared her.

“So you want me to stay away from him?  Is that it?”

“Yes, just until he can rest a while to let his wounds heal.”

“Did it ever occurred to you that it is you who’s keeping him from resting?” Aranlin asked still circling her as a vulture.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked frowning.

“I think it’s you who’s distracting his mind.  That it is you who’s keeping him from resting.  You who’s interfering with his decisions.”

“What?” she asked feeling confused at his constant circling.  “Will you stand still?” she asked angrily.

“Getting angry now are we?” Aranlin smiled wickedly and stopped when standing behind her.  “The first signs of admitting are anger you know” he hissed in her ear.

Angrily she turned around and slapped him in the face.

“You know as well as I that I only take care of him because of his wounds!” she spoke angrily and waved her finger at him as he remained silent, surprised by her slap.

Snapping out of his surprise he grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her back against the wall pinning her wrists above her head.

“Never. Ever. Hit. Me. Again!” he hissed.  “Don’t even think about it!  Remember I can have you thrown into the dungeons without anybody knowing about it!” he threatened.

She just stared at him with her eyes wide open unable to say anything.

“You are the one who makes him weak, you are the one keeping him from his duties!  You mother him!  He needs to snap out of it and start acting like a king!  Injured or not!  Our treasury will not be filled with care and love!  We need money!  I” he paused to stress his words, “NEED money!  And you will NOT keep me from acquiring it!”

After speaking his mind he released her and walked back to his desk angrily.  Half way towards it he stopped and turned around.

“I suggest YOU stay away from HIM!” he threatened again waving his finger, “or by the stars, I will have you tossed back into the hole you crawled out off!”

Still staring at him in shock she continued to rub her wrists and remained where she stood as he turned around and headed towards his desk again.

“And” he continued as he turned to face her once more, “If you tell a single soul about what I told you, I will have thrown into the darkest dungeons we have and nobody will ever remember you or come to look for you there!  Do you understand?”

Lindëlas nodded and bit her lip trying to keep her tears back.

“Good!” Aranlin spoke and turned to walk around his desk to sit down again.  “Now get out!” he waved with his hand not wanting to grant her one more look.

Lindëlas did as she was told and exited the room as quickly as she could and ran to hide herself in her room, determined never to speak to the advisor ever again, nor to go near him ever again.

*******

Absently Thranduil drew circles on the piece of paper that lay on the table in front of him.  As they had done so many days before his advisors and counsellors bickered amongst them selves on every possible item a kingdom had. 

Aranlin held the highest voice, although after their private discussion a few days ago, the financial advisor regarded Thranduil with doubtful eye.  He knew the King’s private resources where almost drained, but he dared not to take on the confrontation with him again.  Still he had put the item on the agenda for today’s meeting, hoping they could treat it without the King’s full attention.

“What do you say Sire?” Silas his father’s favourite and oldest advisor asked him.

“Hmm?” Thranduil answered, “About what?” he replied pulled from his reveries and pushed the papers away from him.

“My Lord, we do require your full attention on these items” Silas spoke leaning closer to him.  “Are you not feeling well?”

“I am well” Thranduil responded, but remained silent after that.

“If we are to rule Mirkwood, we need your full concentration.”

“Concentration?” Thranduil asked and gazed up at the occupants of the room.  “You all seem to handle everything without me” he said and stood to leave the room.  Once he walked through the halls trying to get to the garden until Silas pulled him back. 

“My Lord?” the older elf spoke, “I know you are still grieving over the loss of your father, but you have to snap out of it.  Mirkwood needs a king!”

“To do what?” Thranduil asked.  “To take more money from them?  To ask them to die?”

“No my Lord,” Silas shook his head, “they need you to look up to.  They need you to look to when they are in need.  There isn’t a family left in Mirkwood that hasn’t felt the pain of loosing a loved one.  They now need you to be strong, or at least pretend to be strong.  If their king does not, who will?”

“How can I be strong Silas?” Thranduil whispered and turned away not wanting the advisor to see his tears.  “I can not forget.”

“You don’t have to forget, my Lord” Silas spoke and pulled his arm again so he’d face him again.  “You have to remember them.  Nobody really dies if we remember them.”

“How do you remember somebody and not feel the pain of their passing?” he asked and grabbed Silas’ arm.  “They all left me Silas, every single one!”

“They did not leave you, my Lord” Silas spoke sternly, “They moved on, they moved on because it was their time!  They did not die in vain!”

“Still they died” he snorted and turned away again.

“My Lord!” Silas called after him, “you already carry the burden of the living on your shoulders, do not take on the dead as well!  They are not dead because of your doing!”

“Then why are THEY dead?  And not me?” Thranduil shouted while moving away from the advisor backwards.  “Why not me?” he sobbed and turned to run away.

“I believe our king is not ready for his duties” Aranlin spoke behind the elder advisor suddenly.  Silas closed his eyes at the sound of his voice.  He knew the financial advisor’s intentions and he tried everything he could to stop him.  Should Thranduil forsake his duties… , there were no other heirs to the throne and it would pass to he who rallied the most votes, which, at this time, meant Aranlin.

“He will” Silas sighed and turned around.  “Give him time.”

“How much more will he need?  Until Mirkwood lays in ruin?” Aranlin asked looking down on the elder elf.

“Until he is ready!” Silas spoke sternly.

“That might take forever” Aranlin sighed.

As he strolled through the garden his feet carried him towards the place he spent most of his days in solitude, but this time he could see that he wasn’t alone.  An elf maiden sat on the grass before the statue they had erected to honour those who didn’t made it back to Mirkwood after the great battle.

“Lindëlas?” he asked softly as he stood behind her.  Only then did he remember how very little he knew of this maiden, who her family was, where she had come from, or simply who she was.

“My Lord” she greeted him and wanted to get up and leave him alone.

“Please,” he jested, “stay where you are, if you want” and sat down besides her.  Silence fell for a few moments.  “It’s been a while since I last saw you” Thranduil spoke softly after that time.

“I have been busy, my Lord” she lied, “your wounds are healing nicely, you have no further use for my services.”  She wanted to say his advisor told her to stay away from him, but she dared not.

“Are you leaving me as well, Lindëlas?” he asked softly and watched her profile as she turned her gaze on her hands which lay folded in her lap.

“No, My Lord” she whispered.  “It’s just… you no longer require my assistance.”

“If I asked you, would you consider joining my personal staff?” Thranduil asked after a while a silence.

“My Lord, I have nothing to offer you” she replied loudly and resisted the urge to look him in his eyes.

“I enjoy your company” he rejected her answer, “I find it soothening ”.

“He will never allow it” she sighed only to realise to late that she had spoken that out loud.

“Who won’t?  Your family?”

“I have no family anymore” she whispered trying to avoid his question.

“Then who won’t allow you?” he asked after deciding which questions to ask first.

“Your advisors, my Lord” she answered softly, “they think I have a bad influence on you.”

“What?” he asked outraged.  “What kind of influence?  I don’t understand” he sighed.

“I think you better ask them, my Lord” she spoke softly.

“Trust me, I will” he said standing up and started to walk back inside until he stopped and came back towards her.  “Will you consider my offer?” he asked and watched as she turned her head to him and looked at his face.

“If you want me too” she replied, “I will consider it.”

“Yes, I want you too” he smiled and hesitated if he should do something, instead he turned around and went inside again.  Pushing open the doors to the room he had just left he found all his advisors still around the table and silence fell as he entered the room.

“Welcome back my Lord” Herudil greeted him as he was the one who had been speaking prior to his arrival.

Thranduil remained silent and walked towards his seat where he sat down.  Herudil continued his speech about how important agriculture was in this day and age.  Thranduil listened only partially, fixing his gaze on every member of the meeting for several minutes trying to figure out who had mingled in his personal affairs.

When the meeting finally drew to an end, Silas stood again and waited until the room had gotten quiet again.

“Before we close this meeting, does anybody have any other items we should discuss?  Any questions?” the elder advisor asked.  Silence fell as they all watched the other advisors shaking their heads.

“Good” Silas continued after a few moments of silence. “Then…”

“I have a question” Thranduil suddenly spoke up interrupting Silas and felt all eyes drawn to him.  As Silas nodded at him and sat down again, he slowly rose to his feet and leaned on the table.  “I have decided to enlarge my personal staff, does anybody here have a problem with that?” he asked and looked around the room.

“My Lord” Aranlin spoke up, “this is hardly the place to discuss such matters, I…”

“What would you like to change?” Silas interrupted the financial advisor and watched as Thranduil straightened his back.

“I asked Lindëlas to join my personal staff” he spoke loudly.

“My Lord!” Aranlin objected, “a nurse?  Surely we can find you a better maiden…”

“Do you dislike her that much?” Thranduil asked and stalked towards the elf that clearly cringed under the pressure of his questioning.  “Are you the one who told her to stay away from me?” he asked when he reached him.

“My Lord, I…”

“What did you tell her?” Thranduil asked leaning towards him.  “Did you threaten her?”

“I don’t know what she has told you, my King” Aranlin spoke trying to regain his composure when he realised she had not told him the exact details of their conversation.  “But I did not threaten her.  I only suggested she’d not influence your decisions.”

“Where did you get the idea that she influenced me?” Thranduil asked frowning.

“My Lord” Aranlin continued before glancing at the others in the room, “she has spend almost every waking moment with you, I’m sure she has influenced you somehow.”

“Not the least!” Thranduil spoke without hesitating and straightened his back again although in his mind he searched to see if what he said was true.

“Then I must offer you both my apologies, my King” Aranlin bowed his head.  “I believed she had.”

“So you don’t object to her joining my personal staff?” Thranduil asked again.

“No, my King” he answered, determined to speak to Lindëlas about what she had said to him.

“Good” Thranduil spoke and walked back to his seat.  “That is all from me Silas” he nodded to the elder advisor.

“Any other items?” Silas asked again slowly rising to his feet and glanced around the room.  “Alright then, I hereby close this meeting” he spoke and they all started to gather their things and left the room.  “My King?” Silas then addressed Thranduil, “Could I speak to you in private?”

Thranduil nodded and remained seated patiently waiting until all the other advisors had left the room before Silas came to sit next to him.

“I think it’s best that we left your personal items out off meetings such as these, my Lord”.

“I know Silas” Thranduil replied, “I just needed to know who would object to what I planned.  It will not happen again.”

“Good” Silas nodded his head.  “I would suggest that you pay a little more attention on our next meeting.  Do I need to remind you what is at stake here?  Already I hear rumours and speculations on who will take your place if you will not take your duties serious soon!”

“I don’t think we are helping Mirkwood by talking about it” Thranduil sighed.

“No, words alone won’t help.  But we have to start somewhere!  And Aranlin is right, we need to fill our treasury, it is as good as empty.”

“But how?  And where did all the money go?  Did we have so much unexpected expenses?”

“Thranduil” Silas sighed using his first name again.  “We have been at war for more than eleven years.  We have to pay our warriors, even those who haven’t returned.”

“How do the other realms cope with such problems?  My father never spoke of such events” Thranduil sighed.

“Most raise their taxes, or put in a certain war-tax, people get paid by food instead of money.

“Can we not pay them with food?”

“We have none to give, my King” Silas sighed.

“Nothing?  How can that be?”

“Eleven years is a long time, my Lord” the elder advisor answered.

“Is there anything left after those years?”

“Only arrogance, my Lord.”

Thranduil sighed and thought about what Silas had said.

“I hate having to ask the elves of Mirkwood for money after they have lost so much already” he spoke softly, “I fear they’ll hate me even more.”

“They do not hate you, my King.  They await what you will do.  They already know what hangs above their heads.”

“Is there no other way?”

“I see no other way out my Lord” Silas shook his head.  “We all will have to tighten our belts and put in what we can.”

“I can’t believe everything is gone” Thranduil sighed.  “I’ll speak to Aranlin about what our greatest expenses are and how we can remedy them.”

“See, it’s not that hard.  Why did you not start acting like a king earlier?”

“I think I was afraid” Thranduil started after thinking about the counsellor’s question, “that when I accepted the duties, I would have to admit that my father really is dead” he sighed.

“You will meet him again.  In the meantime, all you can do is try to be a better king he was and make him proud of you.”

“I can never be a better king he was” Thranduil spoke.

“I said to try, I didn’t say it is possible” the advisor smiled and covered his hand.  “But no more moping and wandering around the palace without purpose.  You have a kingdom to rule.  Now step up to the challenge and be a king!”

“Yes” he said “I will be their king, if they’ll have me” he spoke somewhat more certain of himself.  “But I will put in just as much as they have, even more!”

“Good!  Now I advise you to go talk with Aranlin about our finances, and then we’ll put an agenda together for you on who to see, who to visit and who to talk too.”

Thranduil rose to his feet and went to Aranlin’s office.  When he couldn’t find his counsellor in his office the young king started without him and tried to make sense of all the papers that lay on his desk on his own.

“How can anybody find anything in this mess” he muttered as he pushed several used napkins from the desk into the bin.  “A cat wouldn’t even find it’s kittens in this rubbish!” he exclaimed when he found a piece of unrecognisable fruit between two books that clearly had been laying there for quite some time.  Picking it up between two fingers he pulled a disgusted face and quickly threw it into the bin.  Searching for something to wipe his hands with, his eye caught something that was partially sticking out one of the drawers and pulled it out.

Chapter 4

After the meeting had finished, Aranlin made his way to the gardens. “How could she have told him!” he raged in his mind. Deciding he needed to teach her a lesson he knew exactly where to find her. At the statue for those who didn’t return. She always sat there when she had a few moments.

When he saw her sitting in front of it he quickly closed the distance between them, glancing around to make sure they were alone.

“What did you tell him?” he hissed, anger barely contained in his voice before she even saw him.

She turned around surprised and looked up at him, shielding her eyes from the sunlight that shone in them from behind him.

“I didn’t tell him anything!” she spoke doubting whether to put in an angry tone or a scared one.

“Then why did he ask me if I disliked you?” he hissed angrily.

“I promise you, I did not speak of our ... conversation” she answered again and lowered her gaze before turning her back to him again.

“Do NOT turn you back to me!” he shouted and stepped forward.

“Do NOT shout at me!” she retorted and glared at him just as angry as he looked at her.

For a moment he remained quiet, he had not expected her to speak up like this. But when she turned her head away from him again he suddenly and violently grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head back so she’d look at him again.

“You don’t tell me what to do!” he hissed and watched as the look on her face turned from anger into fear and pain.

“Let me go!” she managed to say with still some anger in her tone trying to free her hair with both hands.

“WHAT did you say to him? Don’t lie to me!”

“I didn’t say anything!” she cried out as he twisted his hand in her hair pulling her to her feet by it.

“You lie!” he shouted and shook her violently. “TELL ME!”

“I didn’t!” she tried once more.

Loosing his patience Aranlin struck her across the face with the back of his right hand, still holding on to her hair with his left. Shocked she covered her right cheek with her left hand.

“I really didn’t say anything” she sobbed.

“ARANLIN!” Thranduil’s voice suddenly sounded coming from the palace interrupting the advisors second movement to hit the elleth.

“I’m coming my Lord!” Aranlin answered before turning his attention back to Lindëlas.

“This isn’t over!” he threatened.

“I keep telling you I didn’t say ANYTHING!” she spoke angrily again. “Just leave me alone!”

“Never!” he hissed again angrily and pushed her away from him with such force she fell against the statue badly. Mistaking the fact that she laid still for a sign of sub missal he dusted of his hands and went to search Thranduil.

*~*

“Where have you been?” Thranduil asked his financial advisor, “I have been looking all over for you!”

“I needed some fresh air after the meeting, my Lord” Aranlin lied.

“I can imagine” Thranduil mused thinking back of the office he found. “Let’s head to your office shall we?”

Together they entered the office again and Thranduil watched Aranlin’ s reaction very closely as they walked up to the desk.

“My papers have been moved!” Aranlin cried out. “Who has been here?”

“I told you” Thranduil spoke keeping his eye on his advisor, “I came here to look for you. When I couldn’t find you, I decided to wait, and perhaps throw away some of the leftovers from... weeks ago... Hope you don’t mind?” He asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

Aranlin noticed the papers lying on top of the pile and for a split second Thranduil could see the financial advisor’s eyes go wide. Immediately he tried to cover them up with several other papers but Thranduil quickly intervened.

“What happened to your hand?” Thranduil asked when he saw Aranlin’s hand on the pile.

“Oh that” Aranlin spoke, pulling his hand back and rubbing over his knuckles. “Nothing, must have hit it somewhere.”

“You’d better let somebody check that” Thranduil spoke and nodded at his hand. “It might be broken” he continued and then paused. “And it’s hard to steal coins with only one hand isn’t it?” he suddenly asked keeping his tone as natural as possible.

“My Lord?” Aranlin asked undignified, but the colour on his cheeks had already betrayed him.

“You can’t fit as many coins in one hand as you can hold in two, now can you?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, my King” Aranlin spoke moving the papers from his desk into the cupboard behind him. “Maybe you should return to your bed, you are apparently still hallucinating.”

“Yes” Thranduil answered still speaking quite calm. “That must be it. I’m hallucinating. And the air in here must have worsened it” he nodded and turned around implying he was walking away. “That must be the reason” he said while he returned again to the desk. “I must be seeing things” he spoke still softly and leaned on the desk. “FOR I JUST KNOW YOU WOULDN’T DARE TO TAKE THE MONEY FROM THE TREASURY FOR YOUR SELF!!!!!!!!!!!!” he suddenly raged, scaring the advisor and watched him stumble back against the cupboard as he stared at Thranduil with his eyes wide open.

“My King” Aranlin stammered wanting to crawl into the cupboard if that would keep him safe.

“TELL ME YOU DIDN’T!!!” Thranduil raged again and banged his fists on the desk making everything that laid on top of it jump up. “TELL ME!!!!”

“I... my King, you must believe me...” Aranlin continued stammering eyeing Thranduil obviously scared to death of this side of their new king.

“BELIEVE WHAT? THAT YOU STOLE THE COINS?”

“I was going to give them back” the advisor cried.

“GIVE IT BACK?” Thranduil asked only getting angrier by the second, “WHEN? WHEN EVERYTHING IS GONE?” he shouted and with one fluent move he wiped the entire desk clean before leaning on it again.

“What is going on here?” Herudil shouted as he entered the counsellor’s room adjacent to his and frowned as he saw all the papers thwareling around and Aranlin backed away behind his desk. “My Lord? What has happened?” he asked as he approached Thranduil warily.

Thranduil remained leaning on the desk glaring at Aranlin angrily, neither of them spoke, until...

“Herudil, help me” Aranlin suddenly begged, “the king has gone mad! Look at what he has done to my office! It will take weeks until....”

Herudil unconsciously stepped away from Thranduil and glanced at Aranlin.

“SILENCE!” Thranduil shouted interrupting the financial advisor and both elves watched as the scared elf closed his mouth and lowered his gaze immediately. “Tell me what you make of this” he spoke to his agricultural advisor and handed him a paper he had saved from the pile.

“I’m no financial expert” Herudil whined, he hated numbers and found more pleasure in actually seeing things grow.

“Look at it!” Thranduil raised his voice without ending his glare on Aranlin.

“Yes, my Lord” Herudil answered and stared at the pages. “What are these?” the elf asked not making head or tales from all the different numbers. “A detailed list from our treasury?” he asked glancing from Thranduil to Aranlin scratching his head in wonder. “These are the costs?” he mused and pointed to the left line, “these are the income?”

He paused and looked up at Thranduil.

“Go on!” the king pressed, noting that more and more advisors had joined them now and Aranlin became more and more nervous.

“Do we have this many costs?” Herudil asked frowning at the page. “Where did all the money go?”

Thranduil handed him another page silently.

“This is the same list, only from one of our advisors!” Herudil spoke loudly, feeling very accomplished at recognising the list, but then his face darkened and he started comparing the numbers on both lists. Raising an eyebrow he held the pages closer to his eyes and looked again.

“What can you see?” Silas asked wondering what was taking him so long.

“There have been frequent deductions from this list” he spoke and held up the treasury list. “And the same frequent adding onto this list” he continued and held up the other page.

“Whose list is it?” Nardil, the transportation advisor asked.

“It’s.... its Aranlin’s” Herudil spoke baffled.

A loud rumour rose from all the advisors standing by the door, murmering amongst one another. Aranlin seemed to crawl even more into the cupboard and slowly sank to the floor.

Thranduil stood and straightened his back before glancing at all his advisors behind him. As Silas smiled and nodded at him he returned the nod, before he turned around again he noticed a servant heading towards one of the healers standing amongst the advisors.

Frowning as he watched them converse he wondered what was going on but was quickly distracted as the security advisor stepped up to take Aranlin with him.

“Wait, I want to ask him some questions first” Thranduil said while he grabbed Ardith’s arm and stopped him.

“My Lord” the healer interrupted them, drawing the attention towards them. “May I be excused? I have an urgent matter to attend to” he spoke quickly. “It’s Lindëlas, it appears she has taken a bad fall” he added.