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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 3 years ago

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I found it.

“There's a regular blaze of light begun not far away—hundreds of torches and many fires must have been lit suddenly and by magic. And hark to the singing and the harps!”

After lying and listening for a while, they found they could not resist the desire to go nearer and try once more to get help. Up they got again; and this time the result was disastrous. The feast that they now saw was greater and more magnificent than before; and at the head of a long line of feasters sat a woodland king with a crown of leaves upon his golden hair, very much as Bombur had described the figure in his dream. The elvish folk were passing bowls from hand to hand and across the fires, and some were harping and many were singing. Their gleaming hair was twined with flowers; green and white gems glinted on their collars and their belts; and their faces and their songs were filled with mirth. Loud and clear and fair were those songs, and out stepped Thorin in to their midst."

J.R.R. Tolkien. The Hobbit. Of Flies And Spiders.

I stand corrected.

Yes, Tolkien does say "a woodland king with a crown of leaves upon his golden hair".

Does that mean Thranduil's hair is "canonically golden"? No!

Context matters. Tolkien mentioned "hundreds of torches and many fires must have been lit".

Now look at the colour theory in the original post:

You determine the true colour of Thranduil's hair by looking at it under natural light aka outdoor light.

In natural night, Thranduil's hair is white.

The colour white reflects light.

Thranduil's hair colour changes depending on the colour of the light of the surroundings.

I quote @hir-nin-thranduil :

"Thranduil's hair under golden light, from say, torches or firelight... (sorry of like in several scenes in the films) only appears golden for this reason. This does not mean he has blonde/yellow/gold hair."

Well, as far as I can see, Tolkien indeed never attested what Thranduil's hair colour looked like under natural light.

He only described his hair as "golden" under the "light of torches and many fires" which is follows the physics of his hair being white.

Now I never studied colours. Just out of curiosity: Would actual golden hair appear golden under the light of fire?

Alas, we cannot use Galadriel as reference. Her hair consisted of white Telerian hair from her mother, Earwën, and golden Vanyarin hair, passed down by her father, Finarfin.

Thranduil's hair is white.

Talk to anyone who has studied art or photography, they will confirm that the color white reflects light. For example, if you wear a white shirt under a black light, it glows. Does this mean the shirt glows when it's under natural light? Of course not. Under a red light, it looks pink...under a blue light, it looks bluish....and so on. In order to see the true colors, one should always use natural light; in other words, outdoor light.

Thranduil's hair under natural light is white.

Thranduil's hair under golden light, from say, torches or firelight...(sort of like in several scenes in the films) only appears golden for this reason. This does not mean he has blonde/yellow/gold hair.

If you were to wear a yellow shirt (or any color) it does not magically turn white…ever. Only Pure White takes on colors from the light around it.

Thranduil's hair is white.

Legolas, on the other hand...well, his hair is slightly golden, but it’s more of a platinum blonde. Not gold like Galadriel’s signature locks.

But here's a hint....if someone's hair, or shirt, or dress, or shoes, whatever it is...if anything appears white at any point, under any type of light, it's white. White absorbs color....color does not absorb white.

THRANDUIL’S HAIR IS WHITE.

#nerd stuff #long post

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 3 years ago

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I have tried to find the quote about Thranduil having golden hair, but all I could come up with was this:

In a great hall with pillars hewn out of the living stone sat the Elvenking on a chair of carven wood. On his head was a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again. In the spring he wore a crown of woodland flowers."

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, Barrels Out Of Bond

I am obviously not the only one who is confused about the quote that snuck in the golden hair. I tend to think it has been cited often, but it might have found it's way into the subconscious mind of some fans via other sources than Tolkien.

My research for the quote with the golden hair often brought me to posts like this one:

Before I immersed myself into Thranduil's history, I have been RP-ing Elu Thingol, albeit for a short while. I remember vivid debates about whether the first unnamed Elvenking in the books was meant to be Thingol Greycloak.

I have to point you in the direction of Tolkien readers who specialised on Elu Thingol for details. All I remember is that Tolkien himself revealed Thranduil's name late.

So borrowing from Thingol for shaping out Thranduil is not far fetched. Peter Jackson even might have done a bit of a genius move here by connecting two loose ends of Tolkien's Legendarium. Thingol and Thranduil are not the same Ellon, the timelines would not match, but hey... logic has it the similarities can be due to Thranduil being a descendant of the direct royal bloodline of Elu Thingol... and so is his father, and so is his son.

I can see why book purists might never be able to accept the characterisation of the movies. Peter Jackson's Thranduil is based on Tolkien. And yes, Peter Jackson could have ceased giving Bard Thranduil's lines, he could have let the Elvenking be the one who is the voice of reason, the one who wanted to keep the peace, the one who acknowledged Bilbo and called him a Friend of the Elves, the one who returned Orcrist to Erebor, placing it on Thorin's grave, so it would continue to stand guard over the Lonely Mountain and warn of Orcs sneaking around.

But I digress... sorry for adding a novel to your post, @hir-nin-thranduil, my thoughts are flying so nicely. 😆😅🙈

Alright, we can see, the stories of Thingol and Thranduil are canonically intertwined, in best Tolkien manner. I wish the Professor would have found the time to shape their stories a bit more, but alas, he only had the short life of a human being.

As for the hair... we need to remember Elu Thingol aka Elwë is one of the Teleri. And so would be Thranduil. The Teleri are a subgroup among the Sindar.

Canonically, Elves of Telerian descent do have dark hair. Except the royal bloodline. Here we go:

"Elwë himself had indeed long and beautiful hair of silver hue, but this does not seem to have been a common feature of the Sindar, though it was found among them occasionally, especially in the nearer or remoter kin of Elwë (as in the case of Círdan.) In general the Sindar appear to have very closely resembled the Exiles, being dark-haired, strong and tall, but lithe. Indeed they could hardly be told apart except by their eyes; for the eyes of all the Elves that had dwelt in Aman impressed those of Middle-earth by their piercing brightness."

J. R. R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien. HoME XI - The War of the Jewels, Part 4: Quendi and Eldar, The Clan Names, Sindar.

Elu Thingol had a brother, Olwë. He was a Teleri, the King of Alqualondë and Galadriel's grandfather.

"Two lords they had, for their numbers were very great: Elwë Singollo, which signifies Greymantle, and Olwë his brother. The hair of Olwë was long and white, and his eyes were blue; but the hair of Elwë was grey as silver, and his eyes were as stars; he was the tallest of all the Elven-folk.”

J. R. R. Tolkien, Christopher Tolkien. HoME X - Morgoth’s Ring, Part 3, The Later Quenta Silmarillion I, Chapter 3, §27.

Another famous Ellon of Telerian descent is Círdan The Shipwright and Celeborn. Look here:

“They were clad wholly in white; and the hair of the Lady was of deep gold, and the hair of the Lord Celeborn was of silver long and bright."

J. R. R. Tolkien. The Lord of the Rings, Book II, Chapter 7.

So yes, in case you fell asleep reading my ramblings, the take home message is IF you follow the trace Professor Tolkien laid out, you will see the link between Thingol and Thranduil in the books.

Thranduil is a Teleri of the royal bloodline of Thingol. Yes, it still means he is one of the Sindar, albeit a small group.

Royal Teleri canonically have silvery-white hair. Yes, it is still true that most of the Teleri have dark hair. It is just the royal bloodline that has the rare fair hair.

If you read all this and are still here, I'll pat you on the shoulder. You are one of the few people who can listen to me without being utterly bored.

Thranduil's hair is white.

Thranduil's hair under natural light is white.

If you were to wear a yellow shirt (or any color) it does not magically turn white…ever. Only Pure White takes on colors from the light around it.

Thranduil's hair is white.

Legolas, on the other hand...well, his hair is slightly golden, but it’s more of a platinum blonde. Not gold like Galadriel’s signature locks.

THRANDUIL’S HAIR IS WHITE.

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 4 years ago

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#this is me #this is how I write #my muses call the shots #RP

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 5 years ago

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Eleniel’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of her sovereign hanging his head. It was a rare, very rare gesture she could not recall having seen in what might have been centuries.

The darkest place of these halls is your grief-stricken soul. Envying the mortality of Men. Longing for the call of the Valar.

The healer was worried for her king. The Woodland Realm was still coming to terms with the aftershocks of having lost Prince Legolas and Captain Tauriel. The full impact of the events leading to the prince not returning home was yet to be revealed. King Thranduil’s verdict over one of his kin, the only Elven soul he had ever favoured publicly, had silenced the palace. No one would dare to speak of it, despite it being on everyone’s mind.

Eleniel could feel her jaw clenching. She could not even begin to fathom what the loss of his son and his mentee meant to her king. She did not dare to imagine it, and she had no idea how to protect him, how to shield him, how to keep his darkening light from fading.

As her sovereign contemplated revoking King Oropher’s orders and formally acquited her of the crimes she accused herself of, an audible sigh of relief escaped her lips.

The healer could feel his comment about her wasting his time floating over the pile of rejections she had received from him over the millennia. It landed with a sharp impact on her Elven soul that made her frown briefly, painfully reminding her of her place.

I am not who you need. Her presence shed light in the darkest places of these halls.

As she replied to him, her answer was laced with somberness and a hint of the realisation she quickly pushed back whenever it threatened to emerge to the surface of her conscious mind.

“Hîr nín, I would welcome such a decision. It would make it easier for me to tend to your needs since they seem to divert from what King Oropher wished for you.”

Dragging her mind back on track, the healer started to wonder how his written commands she was to receive during the next days would sound like. Knowing his pragmatism, she reckoned to find a scroll on her desk with King Oropher’s orders being crossed out and the word “revoked” added to it. She doubted King Thranduil would take his time to rephrase his wishes as well and clad them in commands that would be an actual help in improving her medical care.

Eleniel’s eyes had never left her king since he had turned his back on her. Over the years, she had gotten used to talking to his back, and while she did, she was taking in every detail of his body language; the traitorous hemline of his platinum white hair, the way his shoulders gave away the state of mind he was so desperately trying to hide. She loved to see his chiselled facial features in his profile. It was a non-confrontational way of communicating, toning down his intimidation factor that was often hard to contend with, even for someone like her who has been knowing him for such a long time.

As King Thranduil signalled her she was dismissed, Eleniel had to force herself to avert her eyes and to bow her head respectfully. She felt the longing for the chilly evening air and the calming rushing of the lively river breaking though to every fibre of her being. Feeling emotionally spent, the healer skipped her usual wishes for a good night, not wanting to display any more vulnerability. Slowly turning her back on her king, she began to create distance between them.

With every step she brought between herself and King Thranduil, her heart became a bit heavier. Hidden in the protective cover of an intricately tree-shaped pillar, Eleniel stopped. Closing her eyes, reaching for something deep within herself, she drew a calming breath and spoke softly, barely louder than a whisper:

“My Lord Thranduil, providing medical care for you is not a burden. I just wish you could see you… deserve better than the pain and the sleeplessness you choose to endure.”

It was hard to tell whether she wanted him to hear it or did not want him to hear it. The healer felt she had to say it, otherwise, she would have choked on it for an unforeseeable time.

As soon as those words had fallen from her lips, she felt like she could breathe again. Instinctively, she waited for a while, listening to the deafening silence ringing in those cavernous halls, trying to pick up on the slightest reaction of his before she left.

Eleniel scurried over to one of the flying walkways. She ascended the wound staircases with light feet. She knew every path in those halls and chose one that would lead her to the gates. On an uneventful day, she would have taken her time to enjoy the impressions of the changing ambient natural light that filtered down through openings in the caverns, but this was anything but a normal day.

The Silvan elleth had yet to come to terms with the new situation. In the light of Tauriel’s fate, she did not dare to hope King Thranduil would be forgiving. Although a lot of the tension that had weighed on her since her sovereign had left for Dale was dissolved now, she knew it would take time for her to understand what just had happened. For now, she was yearning for a walk in the forest and a good night’s sleep.

Eleniel could feel her feet picking up speed. Being caught up in her thoughts, she almost ran past the guards at the gates.

A well-known figure blocked her path, stopping her by catching her shoulders with the open palms of his hands. It was more a symbolic gesture. Eleniel had already slowed down enough to not run into his chest. The healer noticed the guard was talking to her, but she did not look at the Silvan ellon. She already had her eyes on the forest; the trees were calling her. The wild water under the bridge was coaxing her outside; its rushing she rang louder in her ears than the guard’s words.

“Eleniel, it is too late.” The Silvan guard dipped down this head, so his eyes could meet hers. “The night is closing in.”

As he was motioning his head towards the forest, Eleniel fully woke up from her reverie. She frowned. The Silvan healer knew the guards suffered a shortage of staff and had no resources to provide Elves with security for a luxury like a walk in the forest after dawn. While King Thranduil would not hinder anyone to leave the caves during the light of day, he would not allow Elves whose fighting abilities were limited to basic strategies of self-defense to venture the woods alone once the sun had set.

Eleniel sighed and hung her head. Even if she wanted to, she would not engage in refining her fighting skills. Elvish healing magic would diminish as soon as she touched a blade. It was not the act of taking lives that would decrease her healing abilities, but the sheer acceptance to injure another being, no matter how small and meaningless it may seem to the world, by acquiring skills that would enable her to do so.

As the guard let go of her shoulders, the healer looked back and forth between the forest and the guard’s eyes, not knowing what to do with herself. Noticing her predicament, he offered:

“Would it help if I let you walk over to the river, so you can stay there for a while?”

Eleniel said nothing but nodded slowly, a small smile on her lips. As the guard motioned her to leave, she immediately ran off for the river.

“Do not cross the bridge! And stay within my sight!”

Eleniel could hear the exasperation in the guard’s voice resounding behind her. She knew they were generally being compassionate with Elves like Eleniel who depended on their services, but after the most recent war, they had other management priorities, starting with getting used to a new captain.

Standing near the railless bridge, the healer let the chilly evening air embrace her. The rippling and burbling from the river beyond her feet soothed her mind and calmed her frazzled nerves.

She needed to quickly recover from her confrontation with King Thranduil, or better, finally learn how to not be affected by his intimidating demeanor… or even worse, by his… his…

A telling smile played on her lips, followed by an anguished grimace.

No. No... … no.

The healer shifted her attention to the tasks that lay before her. There were Elven warriors to tend to, a few of them were recovering from severe injuries, either to their body or their soul. Three of them were gravely wounded, their fate was uncertain. It was not necessarily the extensive physical trauma Eleniel was dreading. Elves were resilient; they were capable of withstanding and enduring. But some lacerations… they ran deeper than any Elvish healing arts ever could.

There were loss lists to complete. King Thranduil would soon become impatient if they did not find their way on his desk. The healer felt Prince Legolas’ absence sorely. If he had returned home, he would have helped her with those, bridging the gap between military and civilian staff, being as diligent as his father but far more patient and agreeable in contact with the healers.

Suddenly, a heavy hand on her shoulder startled her. Turning her head swiftly, her eyes were met with the sight of the sorrowful look on Feren’s face. He was a silent and level-headed ellon, one of the most trusted Elves within King Thranduil’s military ranks. Seeing him distraught like that was highly unusual.

“Your presence is demanded. Now.” He urged.

Eleniel’s senses were sharpened, her lips parted to ask for more information, but Feren did not wait for her words and clarified:

“He is dying.”

The healer knew he meant one of her gravely injured patients. Like King Thranduil himself, Feren had made it a habit to visit the infirmary and look after the ones who paid a high price under their command.

Eleniel’s eyes widened in shock. She ran all the way to the infirmary in the upper levels of the stronghold, without a further word to Feren, without acknowledging the guards at the gates, wordlessly running past every Elven soul she met on the flying walkways.

She did not know if anyone had informed her king yet, but she refused to alert him before she had formed an opinion on the state the Elven warrior was in. Despite her experience, the thought of having to watch an eternal light of the Eldar flicker and fade out made her physically sick. It was an abomination, one she refused to ever accept.

@yngvi-thranduil

Thranduil X Your Character (Post BotFA RP)

The Elvenking’s Halls seemed far emptier than they were before. Even the echoes that bounced off the cave walls felt as though they were somehow amplified. The Battle of the Five Armies had come to a close, and what was left of the Woodland Realm’s Forces had finally returned home. A good deal of Elvish blood had been spent during that war, but they also lost not only their Captain of the Guard, but their Prince.

Legolas’s absence was felt keenly by his father. Their relationship had suffered prior to The Prince’s decision not to return. Thranduil understood all too well that this was his own fault. His own stubbornness and outmoded beliefs and expectations had created the rift between himself and his heir. After the loss of his wife, The King had fallen into a depression the likes of which mortals were unlikely to fathom. In time, the weight of his responsibilities and the lack of true companionship had taken it’s toll. The propriety of The Sindar King’s station required that he keep the majority of his subjects at arm’s length, lest he show weakness or even favoritism. This meant he had no one he could simply relax and be himself around. No one who’s company he could truly enjoy. His son was the last link to a real connection with another that he had.

It is a staggering sort of loneliness, to be surrounded by others while remaining disconnected from them.

Now that he had settled back in at home, Thranduil would need to do his best to remain occupied. Something happened to him during that last battle, during his interactions with Mithrandir….something had finally ‘clicked’ inside his ancient mind. Perhaps locking himself and his people away to merely endure through the ages was not the best use of their time, energy and resources. His Armies could be a force for good in this world, and if Legolas was out there seeking new purpose, perhaps his father could learn something from this example. The student becomes the teacher: Everything The Prince had learned throughout his life, he had learned from his father. It was true that Thranduil was stern and perhaps particularly hard on his son, but there was no question that he loved the Younger Sindar more than life.

The tall, elegant figure of The Elvenking stood before the platform that held his own throne and contemplated wistfully. His armies needed time to recover, replenish and rebuild. There were more battles to come, of that he was certain. Perhaps a time would come when he would even give his own life, as his father did before him. For now he made his way over to a small table and poured himself a glass of red wine. If nothing else he was patient, he could wait.

//Yeah, it’s a little vague as Starters go, but I just wanted to paint a picture of time and place, and where Thranduil is mentally/emotionally/physically…while leaving it somewhat open for the inspiration of anyone who wishes to reply. Feel free to contact me if you would like to RP, but have something else in mind.

#RP #eleniel x thranduil #yngvi-thranduil

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 5 years ago

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Before Eleniel was done reciting the text about Elu Thingol – the seemingly invincible High King of the Sindar whose pride and arrogance sealed his own miserable fate – King Thranduil gave her his ever-dramatic look full of disdain and mockery.

Seething anger boiled in her chest, trickling down the cracks of her bared soul. The corset of protocol threatened to suffocate her. It was not the first time he was not only being bold but plainly rude. His reaction was unwarranted, cutting Eleniel deeply. King Thranduil was above praising his people, but he should also be above mocking their genuine worries about his well-being and his safety. In her eyes, such behaviour was undignified for any elf who did not hold the power to shackle her to an asymmetrical form of communication. But for her king? It was unbecoming.

Yet, the healer knew him long enough to understand he was deflecting. His unbearably kingly behaviour was highly functional. Over the millennia, she had learned to use her own reactions to his words as a compass to everything unspoken she would never get to hear. It helped her to gain perspective.

My ill-tempered king. Her presence shed light in the darkest places of these halls. The darkest place of these halls is your grief-stricken soul.

Eleniel could not look at him without thinking of her late queen. Her own grief extinguished her wildfire of emotions. She prolonged her exhalation phase to help her let go of that destructive energy. She needed to focus. This was not how she wanted to part with him.

The healer knew she had her fingers on a neuralgic spot as his icy cold gaze met hers. His presence suddenly felt much closer, as if he grabbed her by her throat without laying a hand on her. She could not help but avert her eyes, bowing her head while turning it slightly left, her chin pointing to the floor. It was an instinctual gesture to placate the Elvenking. He rekindled her fear, either unbeknownst or deliberately, and she was sure he could sense her racing heart.

It cut her deeply as he accused her of wanting to manipulate his free will, reprimanding her as if she had wilfully overstepped her boundaries to harm him. It was her respect for his boundaries, his autonomy and his position that slowly lead her into negligence and omission. Eleniel frowned, barely visibly shaking her head in disbelief while keeping her eyes on the stone floor. The tips of her ears were blushing and tears were welling up in her eyes again.

Eleniel felt humiliated and belittled as King Thranduil asked her if she was longing for being punished for his actions. His actions? How could he not see this was her doing? He was not supposed to be in pain, not even when exposing his scars. His suffering was her fault. If she had managed to gain his trust and really get to work with him over the past millennia, he would not have had to give away he was in pain in an ill-timed moment. She could not wrap her head around that incident.

While her tears were flowing freely, her memory took her back to impressions from very rare medical procedures. The Elvenking’s pride would never allow him to even indicate he was in pain. He even disguised it from her who was bound to an oath to never disclose it. There was no point in hiding procedural pain from her since the healer could read his physical reactions and could tell he was hiding it with a desperate amount of self-discipline. Eleniel could have shut it down easily, or at least she could have alleviated it, but King Thranduil never consented to it. It had pained her greatly, having her king suffer at her hands. While he held high ethical standards regarding the well-being of prisoners, not condoning anything that would cause them to suffer, he had made her his torturer. Again, it was due to her loyalty to him that she never made a decision in his best interest. It was not because her sovereign could have tried her for treason once he had regained his senses. She just could not bear the thought of forcing anything on him, despite King Oropher’s orders.

As the words “unjust” in relation to his regency fell from the Elvenking’s lips, Eleniel’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. She could not believe what she was hearing, and he did not give her time to process the information but continued to make assumptions of her wishes.

Unjust…

As he concluded it might be her wish to give up on her position and to be relieved of her duties, the sadness in the Elvenking’s voice almost brought Eleniel to her knees. It slowly dawned on her he might not consider her a traitor. She had already bowed her head respectfully and he was turning away from her, so she assumed he would not notice how her eyes widened in shock and relief. She needed a moment to catch her breath before she raised her head again and started speaking:

“Hîr nín, I am still bound to all of King Oropher’s commands you did not revoke. He made it very clear that your injury is not to be seen and not to be heard, no matter the circumstances. This – and he was very specific about it – included your potential non-compliance with any therapeutic option. In those cases, he expected me to find a way to educate you well enough for you to be able to comply with his wishes.

Unjust…

Eleniel still had no words to counter this accusation, and it showed in her delayed response. Yes, his reputation proceeded him, but “unjust” was not a part of it. He was a level-headed king behind his temper; his decisions were usually balanced and well thought of. She knew he was aware of that.

Unjust… how dare you to try to weaponise me, lock your words like an arrow in my bow, take aim at your chest and accuse me of threatening your life?!

Again, the healer used her own reeling emotions to triangulate her king was deflecting. Most of the time, Eleniel knew better than to take that verbal bait, but sometimes she swallowed it hook, line and sinker. This time, it was a close call.

Unjust… if ‘unjust’ is what resonates within your soul, you will need more than only my compassion to recover.

The sentence was already on her lips, but protocol caught her right on time. As much as it could feel like a corset, sometimes it could be a safety net. Taking her time to draw a clearing breath, Eleniel raised her head a little higher and looked at King Thranduil. She straightened her shoulders and stated as distinctively as she could:

“I have no reason to think you would ever punish anyone for any of your deeds, but please understand King Oropher made me personally liable on his order. My Lord Thranduil, I am asking for your forgiveness if my attempt to heed the late king’s command resulted in insolence towards you.”

Eleniel’s eyes did not leave King Thranduil while she needed a brief moment to catch her breath before she continued speaking.

“Hîr nín, I do not wish to be replaced. I consider myself guilty of treason by negligence and omission of my duties, hence I was making reasonable preparations in case you would find my assumptions to be correct. If you do not pronounce me guilty, I will gladly resume my work.”

@yngvi-thranduil

Thranduil X Your Character (Post BotFA RP)

It is a staggering sort of loneliness, to be surrounded by others while remaining disconnected from them.

#RP #eleniel x thranduil #yngvi-thranduil

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 5 years ago

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Eleniel required her entire mental capacity to state her pleading as calmly and clearly as possible. The words were chosen with caution the day King Thranduil marched his army to Dale, and they had been refined over and over until he returned from the Battle of the Five Armies. Being finally able to speak them now took a weight off her shoulders.

During his absence, seemingly every living soul of the palace who had not been dispatched to Dale had come to her, asking her to clarify the rumours about King Thranduil exposing his scars in front of a dwarf. Not a trespasser. Not a stranger. A dwarf.

The Elves of the Woodland Realm were concerned about their king’s well-being, and Eleniel was the one they turned to in an attempt to ease their minds. Sadly, none of her words seemed to be enough to alleviate the building tension and to keep the spreading sorrow at bay. The Elvenking's people knew how much he had sacrificed in the past, but only few had ever laid their eyes upon the visible reminder of the price had paid.

In addition, seeing him riding off to resolve an armed conflict, be it in the function of a sharp-witted negotiator or a level-headed military strategist, inevitably triggered the memory of King Oropher. There was an ingrained fear the Woodland Elves harboured - lest they forget the aftermath of Dagorlad. No one would ever disclose that to King Thranduil, but there was not one Elvish soul who did not hold their breath until they saw him returning safely.

With every day passing by, it dawned the healer more and more, how much she had neglected her duties. The main issues were not his scars, something rather unseen in Elves, but King Thranduil’s fewer charming personality traits. Eleniel found the king’s temper and his pride hard to contend with. He also was secretive and uncompromising regarding the injuries he had acquired from the dragon fire. What started as a way of respecting his boundaries had turned into a passiveness in order to avoid conflicts. Eleniel had been taking the path of the least resistance and had resorted to soft options – especially after the Elvenqueen, her only ally in that challenging task, had passed away.

While she could wave off questions regarding the extent of his injures or any suspected loss of function with the argument of medical confidentiality, the healer noticed she did indeed lack that information. Eleniel could not recall when she had last seen the Elvenking lifting his glamour. She had not been the healer who initiated it, and King Thranduil would never reveal more of his scars than absolutely necessary, so the full extent of his injuries was still unknown to her. Eleniel learned about his blind left eye the day the Elvenking decided to reveal it due to symptoms even he could not ignore any longer. Judging by the slight hints his body language gave away, she would not rule out he might even have lost his vision completely, fully compensating for it with his other senses and an excessive amount of self-discipline.

After the first moon had completed its cycle, Eleniel was met with so many questions she could not answer, the healer could not justify her lack of actions anymore. She had betrayed her king by negligence and omission. Now that King Thranduil had returned safely, the healer was expecting to be arrested and tried for treason any day now, as soon as the most pressing matters of the battle had been dealt with.

As she was in the middle of her statements, Eleniel had missed the slight change in his demeanor due to being trapped in fear and distress, but she was relieved as he averted his gaze. She could feel her anxiety calming down as he turned from her and walked over to the table.

What she did not fail to notice was his annoyance and the pang to his Sindarin pride in response to Eleniel’s remark the dwarf might have caused emotional distress in him, so his glamour would have collapsed.

Your pride will be your downfall.

If anything tried Eleniel’s patience, then it was his ill-timed kingly behaviour. The more emotionally worn out she felt, the easier it was for her to let his attitude get the better of her. Now, during the emotional ordeal of confessing treason, his remark hit her hard and allowed her pent-up frustration to forge ahead.

As King Thranduil turned away from her and resumed wandering around nonchalantly, sipping at his wine, Eleniel took her cold hands away from her mouth and quickly dragged them across her face, exhaling sharply. Now it was her who let a silence hang in the air in order to wrangle her aggressive impulse into obedience of protocol.

The healer steadied her breathing before quoting from a historical text, taking little breaks for emphasis:

“Then the lust of the Dwarves was kindled to rage by the words of the King; ... and they rose up about him, and laid hands on him, ... and slew him as he stood. So died … in the deep places of Menegroth … Elwë Singollo, King of Doriath, who … alone of all the Children of Ilúvatar was joined with one of the Ainur; and he who, … alone of the Forsaken Elves, … had seen the light of the Trees of Valinor.”

Eleniel trusted him to get right what she was insinuating, hoping Elu Thingol could convey what protocol would never allow for her to do.

I could not bear losing you.

Straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin a little, she watched King Thranduil pacing quietly. Her heart felt heavy. Even if her king decided to spare her life, he would banish her. This way or the other, it pained her to know those might be the last words they would ever exchange.

“Hîr nín, as I spoke about heightened emotional stress, I was talking about Thorin Oakenshield’s quest, not his mere presence. The dragon. The reason why there are still injured warriors recovering in the infirmary and loss lists are piling up in my study. You may have removed the glamour in a controlled way, but I doubt your vocalised pain was part of your strategy.”

The healer had not dared to move since she started pleading her case. Now that almost everything was said, she could feel exhaustion claiming her. Her legs were shaking, her knees threatened to give in, but she still needed to share some crucial information.

“I have witnessed you receiving death threats, and you usually do not counter them with an anguished expression on your face. My Lord Thranduil, the magic of your glamour does not only disguise your scars and partially restores the functionality of the damaged tissue - it is also meant to be an integral part of your pain management. Since you cannot… accept any other strategies, the glamour is your only barrier shielding you from the pain.”

With a heavy sigh, she continued speaking:

“Hîr nín, in my study, you will find my completed notes, everything I have ever documented about the glamour. I also have written a letter to Lord Elrond. It is on my desk, awaiting your authorisation and your seal. I strongly suggest you converse with him and seek his counsel. He can also help you find someone to… replace me.”

Eleniel bowed her head. In respect. In contrition. In shame. In anguish. She awaited his decision. No matter his understanding of her crimes, no matter the punishment King Thranduil would decide on, nothing would rid her of the guilt she felt. Not even now did she find the strength to fully inform him about the predicament he was in.

@yngvi-thranduil

Thranduil X Your Character (Post BotFA RP)

It is a staggering sort of loneliness, to be surrounded by others while remaining disconnected from them.

#RP #yngvi-thranduil #eleniel x thranduil

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 5 years ago

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Once Eleniel had enunciated her betrayal, her eyes never left King Thranduil. She did not dare to make eye contact with him but kept looking straight ahead. He had approached her closely, close enough for her to notice the intricate pattern of his richly woven robe. After regaining her composure, she tried to remain calm by controlling her breathing and keeping her head in place, but her eyes subconsciously followed the elegantly flowing embroidery, gradually guiding her gaze down to the hem of his robe.

As she noticed the slender silvery sword he carried at the left side of his body, she was gasping, and her eyes widened slightly. In all those millennia, the familiar sight had never elicited any other emotion than her feeling protected around him. Now the dancing reflections of light on the bright Elven steel reopened the gates for the anxiety she desperately tried to keep at bay.

Would he deem her crimes severe enough to justify an act of kinslaying?

As the Elvenking’s voice started filling the air of the cavernous halls, Eleniel snapped out of her thoughts. Instinctively lifting her head up, she made the dreaded eye contact with the much taller ellon. Being met with his icy blue stare, another surge of adrenaline hit her, and her lips started quivering. His words, though spoken calmly and contained, sounded strained in her Elven ears. His voice, laced with his diminishing patience und his growing indignation, felt like he had physically backhanded her across her face, cutting her lips with the rings he wore. Eleniel’s flight instinct set in and she flinched visibly, having to steady herself by taking a small step back.

As he was commanding her to be thorough and succinct in her confession, the confusing order threatened to drive her to the breaking point and into utter silence. She knew her sovereign pressurized her to gain the information he needed as quickly as possible. Eleniel wanted to comply, but she found herself incapable of integrating both requirements in her statements. In her current state of mind, she could either provide him with details, or she could give him a concise summary.

Her mind blanked out. Numbness took over and her world fell silent, making way for more tears that just kept flowing in rivulets down her cheeks and along her neck. There were no sobs, no retched breathing, only the soft taps of stray tears that landed on the fabric of her shoulders.

Eleniel did not avert her eyes. It was not for the lack of trying; she wholeheartedly did not want King Thranduil to see her in such an undignified state. There was something in the Elvenking’s ever-changing eyes that compelled her. His icy blue stare seemed to reach for something deeper than only for her words. She could feel his presence under her skin, taking a hold of her entire being. It kept her in place, enabled her to focus on her words. And finally, after what felt like an eternity, the tears ceased to flow, and she voiced in a silent but clear manner what she had rehearsed repeatedly:

“Hîr nín, word was sent to me that you have publicly displayed both, your visible scars as well as audible symptoms of potentially injury-related distress, while questioning a trespasser.”

Not distress.

Pain.

Excruciating pain.

The healer paused for a second to exhale deeply before continuing with her confession. She still spoke quietly, but her voice was not shaking anymore: “If I had heeded your orders, your glamour would have stayed intact, even under heightened emotional stress. If I had heeded King Oropher’s orders, you would not have suffered a shooting pain attack in front of a stranger who could potentially pose a threat to your kingdom.”

Eleniel could feel how sadness and regret showed in her facial features. “Hîr nín, due to my lack of actions, you were forced to show vulnerability, you were forced to disclose your partial blindness, you were forced to expose the extent of your injury in front of Thorin Oakenshield.”

An exasperated sigh escaped her lips. “My Lord Thranduil, this is my betrayal. I have known my orders for millennia, but I never came up with something substantial to address your medical issues... something that would meet your needs. I shied away from… I never tried hard enough to find... something you would be able to accept.”

The healer trailed off, not wanting to go where her mind was leading her. Betraying her kings by disobeying their orders was the punishable crime, betraying her queen by breaking her promise was the unforgivable one.

Her presence shed light in the darkest places of these halls.

Instinctively, Eleniel covered her mouth with both of her cold hands. The darkest place of these halls was King Thranduil’s grief-stricken soul. Nothing the healer could do would alleviate his agonizing grief. It was a pain of the fëa that ran deeper than any Elvish healing magic ever would.

@yngvi-thranduil

Thranduil X Your Character (Post BotFA RP)

It is a staggering sort of loneliness, to be surrounded by others while remaining disconnected from them.

#RP #yngvi-thranduil #eleniel x thranduil

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 5 years ago

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With the first step her sovereign took forward, Eleniel cast her eyes to the stone floor. A shudder ran down her spine, rippling through the muscles of her neck, her chest, and her flanks, causing her entire body to shake involuntarily. She required her entire mental capacity to resist the impulse of taking a step backward every time King Thranduil stepped forward.

The Elvenking usually stirred a conglomerate of contradictory emotions in the healer – fascination, adoration, intimidation – but angst has never been one of them. Now, she did fear him, and rightfully so.

The healer tried to clear her throat before she spoke hastily as if her speech tempo could compensate for her shaky voice: “Hîr nín, if I am not mistaken, the late king’s orders are still to be heeded, unless you have revoked them. King Oropher once gave me the order to provide you with my healing knowledge and ensure your well-being. I am to alleviate any discomfort caused by your injury.”

Eleniel ran out of breath and could feel her mouth getting dry. She swallowed hard and continued her effectuations: “Your order has been clear. My task is to safeguard your scars are disguised properly.”

She exhaled deeply. More than anything she wished she could have that conversation with him sitting down. She knew if he decided to approach her closely, he would be towering over her, not leaving any room for her to hide.

Eleniel did not dare to look up. Keeping her eyes tethered to the ground, she stammered: “I would not be here if I could honestly say I only failed my tasks as a healer. I came here to… to let you know… I blatantly disobeyed not only your orders but King Oropher’s orders as well. My actions… or the lack thereof… caused something to become a political affair that was not to be revealed.“

Her hands went cold.

“I have weakened your position. I have endangered your authority. And as if betraying two kings in one day was not enough, I broke a promise.” A sudden pang of unbearable sadness hit her with such intensity, she feared she would be toppling over. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“A promise I have been entrusted with.” Eleniel uttered, her voice choked with tears.

“I failed...” The words escaped her lips in a barely audible whisper as the healer watched a tear hit the stone floor.

I failed her. I failed my queen.

Eleniel squeezed her eyes shut. Her tears were flowing freely now. She dearly missed the late Elvenqueen.

Her presence shed light in the darkest places of these halls. An eternal light of the Eldar, snuffed out by the servants of Morgoth.

Swallowing hard, the healer finally raised her eyes and looked straight ahead. Attempting to steady her tear-choked voice, she concluded: “Hîr nín, I came to you to turn myself in. If you wish so, I will elaborate upon my crimes, but I suspect it is safe to say I am the traitor you will have to judge.”

Her ragged breathing caused Eleniel to be dizzy. The healer shot herself a warning to choose her next words wisely, but her mind was already ahead of the situation.

Would he allow her to vocalise her confession? What if he had already heard enough? Would he deem her crimes severe enough to justify an act of kinslaying?

Eleniel forced herself to exhale deeply. As her logical thinking fought back her emotions that had hijacked her mind, a strange calmness began wrapping itself around her shoulders. A trail of warmth travelled down her arms to her upper body, levelling her breathing in the process. Never once had she witnessed King Thranduil engage in deeds common sense could deem as sadistic. She could not recall one incident of torture in prisoners, so there was hope his code of honour would still stand if he found himself faced with the obligation of carrying out a death sentence.

Last but not least, she trusted his skills with a blade.

After all, chances were high if her king decided to end her life, Eleniel would neither see it coming nor would she have to suffer.

@yngvi-thranduil

Thranduil X Your Character (Post BotFA RP)

It is a staggering sort of loneliness, to be surrounded by others while remaining disconnected from them.

#RP #yngvi-thranduil #eleniel x thranduil

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 5 years ago

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The surge of adrenaline sent Eleniel's heartbeat skyrocketing as she felt Thranduil's presence with her entire being the very moment he shifted his attention to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and allowed her forehead to make contact with the pillar she was hiding behind.

In a childish attempt to escape, she held her breath, toying with the idea of freezing and pretending she could not hear him. What was he supposed to do? Call her by her name and summon her? Send guards to drag her in front of him? Come for her by himself, closing the distance between both of them with elegant, swift moves in order to corner her in her hideout before she could draw her next breath?

A sigh escaped her lips as she noticed she had to move. Now. He was her king. She was obliged to answer to him. Now. But how was she supposed to explain something she lacked all words to properly explain it to herself?

Eleniel felt her cheeks blush and she pushed aside every thought unrelated to her task. She emerged from her cover, determined to at least try to coax him into accepting her help. The healer unhurriedly walked towards him, her eyes tethered to the ground in a feeble attempt to hide her flustered appearance.

"My Lord Thranduil," she finally spoke, softly, trying to buy time. The elleth was convinced he was suffering excruciating pain of both, body and soul, in silence. Come on, Eleniel, think. King Oropher chose you for a reason. He trusted you with this.

"I have...," her thoughts were reeling. The late Elvenking's words echoed in her mind: 'Thranduil's hard-headedness was his best asset in surviving the dragon fire.'

"I have come to you to...," briefly closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. With all the courage she could muster, Eleniel straightened her shoulders and made eye contact with Oropher's son.

"I have come to you to seek your counsel in a matter of a potential case of treason. I would be affected if that person were to meet the judgement of your blade."

@yngvi-thranduil

//I can relate to the temptation of using that direct movie quote here. 😊

Thranduil X Your Character (Post BotFA RP)

It is a staggering sort of loneliness, to be surrounded by others while remaining disconnected from them.

#RP #yngvi-thranduil #eleniel x thranduil

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whispers-of-eryn-lasgalen · 5 years ago

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Eleniel watched him from what she considered a safe distance, hidden behind one of the pillars of stone. She should not be there anymore, yet something kept her from walking away as she was obliged to.

As he was pouring himself a glass of wine, she noticed his eyes fell on the second goblet she had placed on the table earlier. It was identical to the one he held in his hand.

The goblet contained two sealed glass vials and notes in her handwriting. The tag on the vial with the light blue liquid said: “1 vial: eradicates pain, 1/2 vial: alleviates pain”. The tag on the vial with the crystal clear liquid read: “1 vial: renders unconscious, 1/2 vial: facilitates sleep”.

Thranduil X Your Character (Post BotFA RP)

It is a staggering sort of loneliness, to be surrounded by others while remaining disconnected from them.

#RP #yngvi-thranduil #eleniel x thranduil

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