THRANDUIL
I did not have the right to speak up; I know that. I was patiently sitting at the couch, waiting for Tristan to realize his mistake while Nina was upstairs in her room, her footsteps echoing. Tristan had a drink in his hand, watching on the television a group of men shooting a ball inside a basket with a big hole underneath. I was not sure if I enjoy it as much as he does.
"How old is Nina again? I think I have not asked."
"She's almost sixteen," he answered, too engrossed on his choice of entertainment. He even startled me when he cheered after his favorite player scored.
"And you'd let her go out at this time of the night?"
"It's summer, Thranduil - it's not a school night."
"When Legolas was sixteen he was not allowed to leave the house as soon as the sun has set."
"We do not have trolls or dragons here in our world."
I clucked my tongue. "But you have thieves and kinslayers as well, am I right?"
Tristan dropped his bitter drink, and turned to me with an eyebrow raised. "Just so we're clear, kinslayers are murderers, right?"
I did not say anything, instead, I took a sip of my wine, still looking at him.
He slowly turned his gaze back to his television, his left foot unconsciously tapping rapidly.
I hit a nerve. And I am satisfied.
As soon as Nina descended from her room, Tristan stood up and followed her to the door. Subtly, I listened to their conversation.
"What time will you be home?"
"I don't know yet."
"Well, you should. It's not exactly safe here, you know that."
"Daaaaad. I'm with Karen and Joan. I'll be fine."
I heard Tristan cluck his tongue. "I was thinking around ten. Or nine thirty."
"It's already eight, Dad."
"Which means you have two hours of fun!"
Nina sighed. "That's no fun."
"It's no fun if you get killed by a kinslayer." he muttered.
"Kinslayer? Oh my gosh, Dad - did Uncle Thranduil put you up to this? Now you're starting to talk like him. Should I expect you to be calling the Valar next?"
"Nobody mocks the Valar, Nina dear!" I shouted, laughing. I swear I can see Nina rolling her eyes.
"Yes, yes - you're gonna answer for this, Uncle Thrandy. Don't you think you'll be getting away with this."
"Yes, I know - see you in two hours! And beware of kinslayers!"
When I heard the shut of the door, I stood up, and followed Tristan. "Your team scored again - it was a very good shot."
He glared at me harmlessly while I finish my wine.
"You made me like this," he growled.
"Oh hush brother, I merely reminded you of the possible harms of the world. She will be fine, forget your worry."
He started pacing, biting his lower lip. I hid my smile, and went to fetch for more wine. Unfortunately, Tristan stopped me and grabbed me to the kitchen.
"You know what? Since we both worry, why don't we take watch? And oh, drink something stronger. Ever heard of rum?"
"I do not fancy it."
"You should because we will be drinking that all night long."
We set up two lean chairs on the front porch, and a table right in the middle. Tristan opened a bag of orange chips that swam on cheese powder, and a bottle of rum. In his insistence, he even made me a sandwich filled with chocolate filling.
"In my experience, old men tend to prefer sweet things than anything, especially if they are off their prime," he said smirking.
"Are you saying I am off my prime?"
"I don't know. How old are you again? Hundreds of years old?"
"I may or may not be on my sixth millenium. I lost count."
We settled down, and I started eating my sandwhich. As soon as I landed my first bite, my eyes grew wide. The filling was perfect.
He smiled, showing all of his teeth. "Yep. Definitely off your prime."
"Just so I enjoy sweet pastries does not mean I lost my sense of youth."
"No, you want recall your sense of youth - an indicator that you feel old. You need to relive your ancient days-"
"Ancient?"
"-and not to mention, all this drama. It's a sign, alright. You tend to be more dramatic when the aging nerves finally hit you."
I sighed. "I wish this is only drama."
He sat up and poured me a drink. "I can listen."
I took a whole minute to gather up my thoughts. The wind gently blew on my face, my ears filled with the peaceful waves that glided through the shores. The seashore was dark; but the flickering light at Tristan's porch and the glistening moon were enough for the whole night to provide us sufficient light. Tristan did not avert his gaze, instead, he fixated them on me.
"Legolas, since the beginning, had been an independent man; he look out for his own, he kept his thoughts to himself; he is secluded and so very quiet, contrary to what I had wanted him to be. I made him like that, and I fear he thinks it is the right thing. He is so much more than I am; than what I have become. I hope he comes out of his own shell and build a better looking glass wall.
"I did not want to leave him and all the duties at home... I fear he would feel betrayed or worst, lost... he belonged in the wild, and in the wild he found himself, but there will come a day that I must pass, and each passing moon it brings me closer to that time. I want him to be prepared for the crown, because I know in myself he is the best equipped to lead the Silvan Elves."
Tristan nodded, and I took the drink in one gulp, burning my throat, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, but it seems that the winds have changed that I found myself pouring another round and Tristan's.
"Have you talked to him about this?"
"I left him a letter. I would go into details when I come home."
He raised an eyebrow, then shifted his attention to his drink.
"So it's a test," he said.
"To put it simply, yes, and this world had enchanted me for awhile, another reason why I came."
He nodded again, but I felt that we had not come to the same conclusion, as he was biting his lip, afraid that he might say something that would hurt me.
"Go on," I sighed, "speak what you have in mind."
He drank once more, and after landed a chip on his mouth. "The way I see it, brother, is that you are avoiding him."
I rolled my eyes. "I do not avoid people, especially my dear son."
"Yes you are - you are afraid that all these you're keeping, your thoughts and your decisions would hurt him deeply, that he would not understand the choices you have made for yourself. You fear of the thought of confrontation, that when he talks to you, all the facade you made for him to see would slowly crumble to your feet."
"It's not a facade - Legolas needed a strong figure to grow with him."
"Did you? Grow with him?"
I opened my mouth to answer him, but no words came out.
"Did you let yourself learn from him, Thranduil?"
I dropped my eyes and faced the ocean. I took the drink to my mouth and drank it all in haste. I did not flinch at the intensity of the taste; I was too numb already.
"One thing he made me see was that I could learn from Nina, the young girl that she is. Despite her age I saw a light that would forever made me wonder why am I blessed with a daughter I did not deserve. She poured her life to me, Thranduil, in ways I never could."
"You do not understand, Tristan - I fear that I have done enough. He does not need me anymore - I break things. I destroy everything I touch, and once I touch him again, I may not be strong enough to build him back up. It's better if I keep my hands to myself then."
He leaned on his chair, a gentle smile playing on his face. "I don't think he would care anymore if he would break, Thranduil. As long as he's with you - he would still prefer that you two be broken pieces together than have the one fixed while the other is not. He would want for the both of you to mend each other's wounds, the way it should be from the start."
I feel my composure waver, a knock on the head if you must - it was as if my eyes were opened once more to the mysteries of the world - and I marvel at the thought of it. I was lost in the dark for a very long time, and my light, my son, even if he's not here, I could feel his presence linger.
We were both quiet for awhile. The bitter taste never left my mouth, but I found myself drinking a few more rounds, enjoying the warming sensation it left down my throat to my chest. Tristan took no care however of his intake - and as it turns out, he could not hold for long a strong kind of liquor, for his eyes were halfway closed by his seventh round.
"A wound opened when he saw Nina, you see."
"Hmm?"
"Yes... she reminded her of a girl he knew."
"Really? Who was-is she?"
"Someone really dear to his heart... his own younger sister." I slowly turned my gaze to Tristan, expecting a baffled look on his face - only to find him gently snoring, his mouth slightly opened.
"Her name was Niniel... and she was my precious little flower - only to have lost her in the hands of the reckless hate of darkness. Such bright light... lost... a star in the wide sky, a mere memory in the heart of the people who loved her...."
My thoughts trailed off as I felt a slight tingle in my fingers. The liquor must have affected me. Sighing, I joined Tristan in his slumber - and wished for the stars to guide us, both of us in our most vulnerable state.
•••
a glimpse of Niniel's story... Hope it interests you mellons!!!