Sun-Kissed Blood 4

Sun-Kissed Blood

Part 4

Posted: April 4, 2008
Title: Sun-Kissed Blood
Author: Elohir Mornedhel

*****

“It cannot be helped, sire,” Lindir said softly, his voice whispering against the king’s ear.

“I had hoped to avoid this,” Thranduil sighed. “I do not wish to put Legolas on the spot. He does not like to be the center of attention.”

“I do not wish to place an undue stress upon the prince either,” the advisor responded. “But, it would sully diplomatic relations between the realms if we excluded them from his majority celebration. After all, you attended Elladan and Elrohir’s as well as the wedding held in Lothlórien. It would be rude not to return the gesture.”

Very well,” the king sighed. “Invite them. I had hoped to keep the party simple. This will complicate things and Legolas is already uncomfortable with it.”

“He has not had much luck making friends,” Vaidre said quietly. “It is difficult with his special needs. I worry about him.”

“As do I, Vaidre,” Thranduil whispered. “As do I. We must make certain to keep his secret from the visitors. They cannot know of it. I will not have my son treated like some abomination.”

“We will do all in our power, aranen,” Lindir promised. “As we have since the beginning.”

“I know,” Thranduil said. “I do not mean to imply that you have failed in your duties. You have helped me protect my son and for that I am grateful. Please do not ever think your efforts go unappreciated.”

“A king has many concerns and a father even more,” Vaidre smiled.

“Well this is quite the surprise,” Erestor said as he read the missive.

“What is it?” Elrond asked as he lifted his head from the parchment he was reading.

“King Thranduil has extended an invitation to his son’s begetting day. Prince Legolas turns fifty this year,” the advisor said.

“Why is that a surprise?” Glorfindel asked.

“Well,” Erestor began. “As you know, King Thranduil is very insular. His son was not present at any of our past meetings.”

“Thranduil did attend the twins’ begetting day and my wedding. I do not see why his invitation is such a shock,” Elrond commented as he turned back to the report in front of him.

“Whenever I am there,” Erestor said. “I always feel as if he is hiding something.”

“Perhaps it is an all-consuming desire to get into your leggings,” Glorfindel teased.

Erestor snorted. “You are obsessed with sex,” the councilor pointed out. “I can assure you that the majority of the elven population do not share your view on the matter.”

“Then I most certainly feel sorry for them,” the seneschal chuckled.

Elrond laughed at their banter as he finished the report he’d been reading. Indeed, the message from Thranduil was unexpected but he would accept it all the same.

“By the Valar,” Erestor laughed as he held back a playful balrog slayer. “Elrond, where is his leash? Or better yet, where is Gildor when we need him?”

The lord of Imladris had to laugh as he watched his chief advisor fend off the half-hearted kisses of his seneschal. The laughter filling the room was joyful and happy. It was as it should be. Life was good in the Hidden Valley.

Suddenly Elrond stiffened. He stared off into space, his eyes glazing over as his gift took hold of him. Blood danced before his eyes, blood and luminescent flesh. Scattered images of pale blonde hair and sharp fangs filled his vision. His breath came in short pants as he felt pain, terror and an all-consuming hunger. He wanted to scream but the sound was caught in his throat. He clutched at the arms of the chair, his nails digging into the wood.

“Elrond!” Glorfindel shouted as he grasped his Lord by the shoulders. “Balrog’s Balls I hate when you do that.”

Elrond said nothing for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. He gasped for air and eagerly reached for the glass of water Erestor held out to him. After gulping down half the contents, he looked at his closest friends and confidants.

“Well,” Erestor said calmly. “It certainly has been a long time since the foresight has come upon you so quickly.”

“Or so strongly,” Glorfindel added. “What did you see Elrond?”

“Blood,” the peredhel whispered. “A great deal of blood and pale blonde hair caked with it. I… the images were all twisted and jumbled together. It is hard to sort one from the other or put them in any sort of order.”

“Is it something to do with the Valley?” Glorfindel asked.

“No,” Elrond answered. “I am certain of that. It has nothing to do with our home. I will have to meditate on the images. Hopefully, with a calmer mind, I will be able to make sense of them.”

“I pray it will not be too late,” Erestor said softly.

“As do I mellon, as do I,” the lord answered.

*****

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