Chapter Five
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Pale highlights of gold and pink were just brushing the tips of the distant mountains in the east when Oropher looked up as the slender Elleth quietly entered the outer chamber where he waited with Henorchal. The fatigue of a long night trying to pull the young elf in her care back from his near brush with death showed clearly, but her deep hazel eyes shown with a light that held a message of reassurance for the apprehensive father. "He faces a long recovery, but he will live Hir-nín." Maenesta added, "It will be several hours before he awakens however. As you suspected; in addition to his injuries, he had also been poisoned. The foul beasts were using a mixture of horthabell added to their evil liquor to try and rouse him. The combined effect works as a powerful stimulant for short term use, but is ultimately toxic to elves… something I do not doubt that they are quite aware of." The last part was spoken with quiet resignation, she had long ago ceased to wonder about the cruel ingenuity of these evil creations of Morgoth.
Oropher felt the dark weight in his heart lift for the first time in days. Though he had not slept in nearly a week, the relief of knowing that the nightmare was finally ending seemed to chaise away all fatigue. He smiled as he felt his heart sing in a way that it had not done since Elenedis had died. Doriflen would be fine, and Thranduil was safe at home; his world that had nearly shattered for a second time was once again whole. "I can not thank you enough Maenesta, I shall be forever in your debt fair lady." He said with the deepest of gratitude, as he swept his hand up in an elven salute. "Saés, if there is anything that I can do to repay you, you must tell me."
Maenesta smiled. Though this one guarded his heart closely, there had been no doubt of his deep love for his child. She had seen that when they had arrived late last night at her home. His was not a heart that loved easily, but once it did, it did so completely despite the tough mask that he showed to the rest of the world. For those with such a cautious heart, loss was so painful that they would not risk opening themselves up to any but the small handful closest to them like their children or spouse. They saw only the potential pain, without ever recognizing the strength that love also brings. She thanked the Valar that she had been able to save not only the injured child brought to her, but the heart that she could see already bore the scars of another great loss. "To see your son leave my care whole once again is all the reward that I seek." She stepped aside allowing Oropher and Henorchal to enter the room where Doriflen now lay.
"Hannon-lé Maenesta. How long do you think it will be before he is well enough to return home?" Oropher inquired. Looking down at Doriflen; the abuse that he had suffered was brutally apparent. Oropher was saddened and also angered at the sight… his son should never have had to suffer like this.
"There were a couple of ribs broken and a fracture to his right patella as well as his many other injuries." She considered carefully. "He should not leave for at least a week."
Oropher nodded in understanding. Although at one level he would have liked to have brought Doriflen home right away, his desires were irrelevant when placed against the needs of his son. He glanced over when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
Henorchal smiled softly in understanding. "You will of course want to stay with the boy. If you would like, I can return with a message for your youngest and Ansa. I can also accompany Thranduil back here if you would like. Your sons seem to be very close; perhaps it would be a comfort to Doriflen to have his brother with him.
Oropher's brow knit. Until this very moment, his only concern had been to save his son. He was suddenly struck by the many other difficulties that would have to be faced. He did not doubt that Doriflen's experiences would have more effect than just the physical. Though Thranduil's presence may ease some of these feelings, he was also concerned about the effect seeing Doriflen in this state would have upon his youngest; it could be very traumatic to one of such tender years.
He also had to consider the effects that general knowledge of his son's torment at the hands of the orcs would have on Doriflen. Elves who had been taken captive by Morgoth's servants were frequently looked upon with suspicion by others. There was always the concern that the returned elves had been broken and turned by the enemy. The monsters who had stolen Doriflen had done so for nothing other than their perverse pleasure, but that would not make any difference to some. There would always be rumors and distrust.
Right now, nobody outside of this room knew what had happened. If he could keep it that way, Doriflen had a chance to lead a normal life. Thranduil was so young yet, and the young frequently said things that they should not. To expect him to deal with his brothers trauma, and at the same time keep this secret and act as if nothing of consequence had occurred when dealing with others, was not reasonable.
No. As much as Doriflen might want or need to have his brother with him, for both their sakes he could not allow it. "Henorchal, please say nothing of what has really happened to anyone. Tell Thranduil that Doriflen was injured in a minor rock slide up in the pass through the Emyngwanûn. He will be fine, but it will be a week or more before his injuries allow him to return."
Henorchal understood the reasons for secrecy… if his child were in a similar situation; he would probably do the same. He did not however agree with keeping the two children apart, but it was not his family. It was Orophir's decision to make, not his. "Very well, I will do as you say." In hopes that his friend might yet reconsider his decision, he added. "If you change your mind, send me a message, and I can still bring Thranduil."
"I will keep that in mind Henorchal." He grasped the other's forearm firmly in gratitude. "Thank you once again."
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He was running blindly through pitch darkness. Branches and brambles grabbed and tore at him… or were they really claws? They were so close behind him that he could feel their fetid breath on the back of his neck. He fell and could not move. He could feel their hands gripping his arms, but he could not see them. Why couldn't he see? Suddenly a faint point of ruddy light appeared. Instead of calming him, it just amplified his panic. It rapidly grew to a fury red ember moving towards his eyes as hideous laughter filled his ears. The scream that had been building finally burst forth as he desperately flailed against his unseen attackers.
"Lasto beth-nín Doriflen! Listen to me my son, it is not real. You must wake."
The voice pulled at his mind gradually dissolving the shadows. His father held his arms, his face faintly illuminated by the single candle on the shelf above the narrow bed. As he drew in a shuddering breath, he realized that his cheeks were wet with tears. He twisted to the side trying to hide his shame. Anger at his own weakness tore through him, but he could not stop the tears. He had thought himself stronger than this, but that and all else he had believed about himself had shattered in the face of reality… he was weak and pathetic.
"Ion-nín, saés, You must not turn away." Oropher softly intoned seeing the slender shoulders shaking with silent tears, "It is over my son, you are safe… you need not fear anymore… it is all in the past now, let me help you put these evil memories behind you."
Oropher gazed sadly down at his eldest, once so confident and now so fearful and forlorn. Since he had first awakened, Doriflen had been caught in these terrors anytime he slept. His waking moments were not much better, fluctuating between broken soundless tears and morose withdrawal. He did not know what to do in the face of such anguish, he had always held his own so close, but his father's heart bled for his child and he reached out uncertainly wanting to just hold him until the wounded spirit could heal. Gently grasping the young elf's shoulders, Oropher gently but firmly tried to roll him away from the wall he had turned towards, and raise him up.
Doriflen cringed at the touch, and resisted the gentle pull. He did not want anyone to see him, especially his father; the only thing worse than his own weakness was to have that weakness witnessed by another. When he looked in his father's eyes, he could see his own weakness reflected in the pity that they held… pity was only for the weak. Why wouldn't he just go away? Did he take pleasure in seeing him like this? As he remembered his own satisfaction when he had been able to bend others to his will, this seemed somehow painfully reasonable to his shattered soul. His self loathing combined with the anger that always burned within him found focus in the painful and disturbing thought and Doriflen suddenly rolled over lashing out viciously at the elder elf.
Oropher was shocked at the unexpected attack, failing to react to the first few blows despite the fury and force behind them. He grasped Doriflen by the wrists in an attempt to restrain him, careful of the young elf's injuries, but this just seem to infuriate the youth who was able to tear free and strike out even harder. Oropher was finally forced to grapple with the adolescent bringing all of his strength to bear and pinning him down firmly while calling urgently to him to stop and calm down, his voice sharpened by the strain of the struggle.
When Doriflen had first lashed out, it was in rage against the witness of his shame. He could not tolerate anyone having the power of that knowledge. When Oropher was forced to pin him down, the pain from still healing injuries and the restraint magnified his fear and reawakened his feelings and memories of helplessness, causing him to struggle all the more in a state of blind terror and sheer fury. He could hear a voice calling to him, but there was a sharpness and anger to that voice, he would not surrender to that voice, he would not be broken again, and struggled all the harder. The pain of his injuries screamed at him, stealing his breath away until at last darkness tinged the edges of his world and his strength ebbed away replaced once again by a flood of silent tears. His despair darkened with this perceived defeat and humiliation as he now looked up into his fathers piercing stare.
As he felt Doriflen stop struggling, Oropher cautiously released his hold and sat up looking down with disbelief. What had happened? There had been times in the last few days when Doriflen had struck blindly out when first being woken, but Oropher had attributed that to the confused reflex of a mind still only half conscious trying to defend himself from the terror in his dreams. What had just happened could not be explained that way. He did not understand why his son would knowingly lash out at him like that. He could understand Doriflen's anger toward his tormentors, but not towards himself. His feelings were a jumbled mass of confusion, sorrow, shock and also anger. He wanted to be understanding, but he could not ignore this dangerous and violent outburst.
"Explain yourself, my son." Oropher looked down into his son's eyes filled with anger and pain, but instead of a response, Doriflen tried to turn away once again. "No, you will not turn away, not after what you have done. I have been patient, but it is time that you faced what has happened." Oropher had grasped Doriflen by the shoulders and held him firmly preventing him from turning away. During the first day of recovery Oropher had heard Doriflen call out for Thranduil, and had considered if perhaps he should send for the child after all as a comfort for his brother, but after this outburst he was relieved that he had not. He could not allow this violence to pass by, he needed an answer.
Doriflen tensed up in response to the restraint, but did not struggle this time. He heard his father's words but did not comprehend them… What did his father mean by 'not after what you have done'? Did his father actually blame Him for what had happened with the orcs? "They hurt Me." he finally choked out trying once more to turn away.
"I know very well what they did to you, I saw it, and it is something that I will never forget, but it is not an excuse." Oropher fixed his son with a hard look; he had to understand that being hurt did not excuse violence and hurting others. "You can not let others control your actions; you must be stronger than that."
His father's words screamed through his mind; he had seen everything, he knew everything, he would never forget. Everything that Doriflen wanted to hide even from himself would always be remembered by another. The thought was intolerable and yet inescapable. He told him that he must be stronger, that he must not let others control his actions, and yet that is exactly what had happened. He was weak. "I tried to be strong, but I could not stop them. There was nothing I could do. You ask the impossible."
"I ask only that you try to control yourself; you can not control what others do, but you must be responsible for your own actions." Oropher reached out cupping his son's bruised cheek "Of course you could not stop what those monsters did to you once they had you under their control, I do not blame you for that, no one could, but they are dead now, they can never harm you again. You must move past this and learn from your mistakes."
"Mistakes?" Doriflen felt confused and angry; if his father truly believed what he had said that there was nothing that he could have done to stop the orcs, then what did he mean by mistakes?
Seeing the confusion in his son's eyes Oropher sighed. He had not intended to discuss it at this point while Doriflen was still so vulnerable and wished that he had chosen his words more carefully, but it was too late now. "I tracked your movements and also spoke with Thranduil. Some of the decisions that you made were foolhardy and put you in harms way. I am very pleased and proud that you saved Thranduil from the river and kept him safe for most of the trip back, but you should never have attempted to cross the river where you did with him, and I do not understand why you left him alone and unprotected in the end. It is only by the grace of the Valar that he was not captured along with you."
Thranduil; he was the one who had gotten hurt, and his father was worried about what might have happened to his brother. The roiling fires always burning within him coiled and twisted through his mind searing his tenuous hold on reason once more. He had not abandoned his brother, as his father seemed to think; he had been returning to him when the orcs had captured him. Why would he think such a thing? He said that he had spoken with Thranduil; had his brother said something to make his father believe such a thing? It did not make sense to him, why would Thranduil say or believe such a thing? In his mind, his actions had been clear and obvious. As for the river crossing; he would never have been there to begin with if it had not been for his brother, didn't his father see that? He had been indulging his brother's wishes, and their father had given them permission to go. What fault could possibly be attributed to him for what happened after that? If he had done what he wished, none of this would ever have happened. In his mind there had been no 'mistakes' other than not putting himself first.
The pain and confusion only grew, Thranduil was the only person he really cared about; he could not accept that his love for his brother could be the cause of what had happened to him even though a twisted and dark voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was so. He shut his eyes against the voice and the anger that flared in his heart against his brother; but when he did, the leering image of his tormentors leapt forth before him… "Seen enough of this life maggot? Shall I dry those weak sniveling tears for you permanently?" Shying back from the nightmarish apparition, he lashed out in terror and pain once more. "No! Please, no… stop…"
Oropher watching the emotions warring within his son's eyes had expected either sullen silence or perhaps an argument but not the explosion that he now faced. As he grappled with Doriflen trying to restrain and calm him, he realized that this was different from his first outburst. This was not directed at him, but instead at some unseen foe, much like when he would waken from his night terrors. "Doriflen stop, you must calm yourself." As the struggles weakened and stopped he looked down into Doriflen's face noting how the eyes darted fearfully about the room as though searching the shadows for hidden dangers. "What do you see… Please speak to me, let me help you."
"Them." Doriflen did not name "them" he could not. They were there every time he slept or closed his eyes. They were dead, but he could not escape them.
"They are just memories my son, shadows of the past. You can not fight them with your body, you must learn to put them away; to banish them from your mind." Oropher understood the pain that memories could cause. For an elf, memories were so real and vibrant that remembering could be much like reliving what had happened. They could not be simply forgotten, and they did not fade with time, but they could be directed and put away; sealed off so that they would not intrude into your every waking moment. It would take time, but he hoped that he could help Doriflen to learn how to do this and to rebuild his life. "Will you let me help and guide you?"
Doriflen looked up at his father, willingly locking eyes with him for the first time since his rescue. It was long since he had felt even the slightest inclination to accept guidance of any sort from him but he was desperate. He could not live with the memories of what had happened to him or of what he felt he had become. His shattered soul grasped onto the hope the elder elf held out to him clinging to it in desperation. "I can not live with this...with them. Saés Adar, please help me. What must I do?"
Oropher felt the knot that had been tightening around his heart for the last few days as he had watched his son's emotional degeneration ease slightly and smiled softly down at the boy; if he would finally open up and let him help him, then there was hope. "I can help you to build a wall in your mind behind which the memories and pain can be sealed away to slowly die. They will still be there, but if you do not feed them with your feelings they will loose their power over you." He placed a reassuring hand on Doriflen's shoulder. "It will not be easy, but once you have finally placed these horrors, the feelings and all that reminds you of them behind that wall, the pain will fade, and you will be whole and strong once more.
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At last! Heart racing with joy Thranduil raced down the last steps of the Talan bolting across the open meadow below. After waiting a whole month for his brother's return he was finally back!
When Henorchal had told him that it would be about ten days before Doriflen and his father would return and that his brother had been injured in a rock slide he had wanted to set out right away to join them and could not believe that he was expected to remain at home waiting. No amount of pleading would convince Henorchal, so after two days he had done the unthinkable; he had defied his Father's instructions and slipped out in the middle of the night to go to Doriflen despite any possible consequences. His heart demanded it. He felt like it was somehow his fault that his brother had been injured; he should have been able to keep up with the others, he should have been able to jump further, and when his brother had been injured on his return home, he should at least have been able to track him, find him and get help for him sooner. Besides, his brother had always been there when he needed him, now Doriflen needed him even if his father did not think so.
Unfortunately, he had not gotten far. Henorchal had caught up to him and brought him back home before he had traveled more than half a day from his home. Later attempts had not faired any better despite his best efforts, and he had no doubt that his father was going to be furious when he heard about them, but at least Doriflen might find them entertaining, and would know that he had at least tried. His feet flew across the grass as he remembered how ten days had turned into thirty before he had finally caught sight of his brother next to his father as they slowly approached home at last.
"Doriflen!" The trees rang with his exuberant greeting as he flung himself forward, hugging him. "I have missed you so much Muindor-nín." Thranduil felt his brother stiffen up in his embrace and belatedly remembered that he may still have injuries that could yet be tender. "I'm so very sorry; I have hurt you." he said as he pulled back and looked up into Doriflen's eyes, but what he saw there caused him to pause. Something was wrong. He was not sure what it was but he just seemed... Different. It was confusing.
Doriflen looked down into the adoring upturned face trying to see the brother that he had loved... wanting to see him... and felt the wall behind which his nightmare dwelt waver. Shutting his eyes against the horrors he tried to focus on what his father had taught him; he must lock away those memories and feelings, and whatever could force them to the surface. Gazing down once more he felt his panic starting to rise as the harsh laughter of the orcs rose and a dark voice at the back of his mind told him 'that it would never have happened if it had not been for Thranduil... he had been captured because of him.' He looked away as he tried to put aside the pain and turmoil raging through his mind when he tried to remember his love for his brother, to separate it from what had happened, but he could not. Desperate to silence the voices and hold the horror at bay, he cut deep into his heart and sealed his love for his brother behind the wall before it could crumble and break. When he looked back he could see Thranduil's face but without the feelings it no longer hurt; the wall was strong. With a slight shudder, the decision was made; he would be strong despite the faint cry from a small glimmering light still within him that warned that love locked away would wither and die and take the rest of his heart along with it.
Doriflen smiled at Thranduil as if nothing had happened, masking away all signs of the past. "I'm fine Muindor-nín, you need not worry about me."
Thranduil still felt confused but accepted the reassurance...why would he not; this was Doriflen, his brother. The one person whom he could always trust and open his heart too. He smiled back never realizing that the brother he had known was gone.
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EPILOGUE
A single shaft of sunlight set swirling moats of dust glinting unseen before the gaze of the solitary figure, while the youth with eyes too old for his years watched for a moment before gently touching him to draw him from his deep reverie. "Ada, Naneth says it is time to go."
Thranduil felt his mind drawn back through the swirling mists of time and turned to look down into the somber eyes of his son. "Yes Legolas, you are right, it is time." He started to walk towards the door of the study but paused grasping his son by the shoulder and turning him to look at him. "He was not always this way you know, he was a good brother to me once. I do not know why but somehow the brother I knew was lost and replaced by a monster and I never fully realized it before he hurt you." His eyes welled up with unshed tears. "I do not understand what happened to him, but you must believe that I would never have let him near you if I had known what he had become capable of."
Legolas smiled and turned trusting eyes upon his father. "It was not your fault Ada, I know that you never wanted any of this to happen." his eyes turned thoughtful. "He understands how to use our love against us, but he feels no love himself. He thinks that makes him strong, but it is his weakness; his heart is dead."
Thranduil swept Legolas into a hug as he felt his heart swell with love. "You show great insight Ion-nín, I am so proud of you." He kissed the boy gently on the top of his golden head. "You are right; our love is our strength, not the weakness that he thinks. Come, let us go and show him the strength that can be found in love and compassion." He released his son from the embrace and took a deep breath as he turned from the memories of the past, and walked out to face the future. Though Doriflen may have betrayed him completely, showing that any love he may ever have had for Thranduil was now beyond recall; there would always be a small part of his heart that would mourn the loss of the brother that he had once been and that Thranduil could not help still loving. It was time to go, it was time to pass judgment on his brother.
The End.