Impulsive and young, Thranduil brings back Aerneth to Doriath as his wife, making his abusive father furious. Through the Ages their hasty marriage is shadowed by war and death, dragons and dark lords, betrayal and kinslayings. How can they ever fin...
~Thranduil and Aerneth has moved to Eglarest with his mother, but a tragic accident makes everything worse. Or was it an accident?~
Chapter warning: Suicide (implied)
oOo
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Sorrow
"Naneth, will you not come inside? Autumn evenings are cold here by the sea." As usual Thranduil had found Eiriendîs as far out as she could get on the longest pier. She was gazing at Aman, and it disturbed him more than he would admit. Her obsession with their painting back home in Menegroth had been bad enough, but this was the real thing. From here elves could sail over the ocean and never come back, spending the rest of their days trying to find the way to that distant shore, in a country to where Eiriendîs' deceased relatives presumably had been reborn.
"Soon, dear, just a little while longer. It's so beautiful." Her voice was soft and dreamy.
With a sigh, Thranduil turned to slowly walk back. His feet felt heavy, his entire body did. Ever since that horrible fight after Lúthien had escaped, he had been dull and sluggish, like he was caught in a bad dream, trying to run but unable to even move.
His family was crushed, all because of one incident. One failure. Even now, he did not know who to blame for it, but he had stopped caring.
Oropher had beseeched him to stay. Thranduil would never forget his father's tear-soaked face, red and swollen almost like Aerneth's bruised cheek. He had humiliated himself, fallen on his knees and begged. Actually begged.
Turning his back and walking away from his stricken father had been the most difficult thing Thranduil had ever done, but for once he had hardened himself.
The first night after the fight, Thranduil had brooded long over what his mother had said about how he had failed to protect her, and the more he thought about it, the more ashamed he became. Looking back, he realised he had taken her for granted and more or less treated her as if she were invisible; never showing her the same respect he did his father, seldom talking with her or asking how she fared. Why had he been such an inadequate son?
He wanted to compensate for it now, but Eiriendîs made it so hard with her elusive behaviour. During their long journey here – on foot, because naturally King Thingol refused to lend them horses – she had hardly spoken two words, even to Aerneth, and since they arrived yesterday she had spent every waking moment gazing at the rolling waves.
Círdan and Falasiel had tried to cheer her up, but the whole situation with their daughter's sudden return had been so strange and disturbing to them that it had affected their behaviour too, they were simply too confused to be good hosts. They knew nothing about the argument between Aerneth and her father-in-law, nor about Thranduil's disgrace with the king. He had entreated Aerneth to keep her silence about it, both because he was ashamed, and because he was afraid it might cause ill feelings between the Falas and Doriath.
