Erebor, Lonely Mountain

13. Thranduil | You Tell Him

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Where are you going?? A young blonde haired teen trotted quietly through the trees after the raven haired mystery floating through town for as long as he could remember only to suddenly vanish and be gone for hours. Curiously after finally mastering a system to get all his chores done in his family's shop early enough today to notice which path she had darted off to. Tucked between a pair of bushes he found her, lowly on his hands and knees his jaw dropped finding her with a handful of peas she was feeding to the cheeping ducklings around her feet.

Ducks had rarely remained this close to town with the peaceful swan population, though it seemed the families of swans swimming by granted this one family to dwell here and her place within their carefully guarded nests. Their friendship clearly marking you apart from the rest explaining the feathers usually woven into the braids keeping your curls out of her face. Quietly he slipped away leaving her elusive nature as her private secret.

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Ages had passed and two homes had been lost along with that carefree teen lost to those wars stealing so much from so many for no reason past greed. The Elf King alone stood with scowl across his face strolling from one meeting to an inspection of a new fortification on the outer walls of the new mountain keep in the northern portion of their once great and vast kingdom. The faint echoes of his son's sleeping grunts sounded and again in taking his newfound back hallway to lengthen his free time just a few moments a pale yellow velvet clad Elleth darted across his gardens and sharply his body went rigid and all urgency to reach his meeting died in the moment he turned away from his chosen path.

By all accounts his kingdom should be his top priority, it always had been since his father had been first chosen King. Yet in his devotion to his people an ache had grown in his chest and no matter how agreeable or hopeful his wife had been of their arranged union ending in blissful blindness to any and everyone else his eyes still scanned the crowds and a poorly uttered name in a drunken rendezvous post yearly Feast of Starlight did not belong to her but to an Elleth he hadn't so much as spoken to past stolen orders in finding her in his searching paths to cross hers.

Needless to say without touch, words or action towards the owner of that name the seed had been planted and trust was irreparably scuffed. He came home to her every night dreaming of another and in a passing moment of her own one trip to Lothlorien her aching chest grew at the One she had seemingly abandoned. A generous offer was made and in the final months of her pregnancy the Elf was sent for and tearfully accepted the offered deal, she would remain to wean their son off her milk and publicly she was allowed her Consort with the King's blessing and arranged plans for them to sail from the Grey Havens when they wished.

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Across the lush grass he strolled leaving his wrap across the banister he passed. A steady stride turned to a timid trot after the near vanishing dark curls under the shadows of endless trees above. Stumped in a bare clearing his head swiveled until the soft breeze had his eyes drooping shut in the faint waft of an alluring green apple scent, opening his eyes again he followed the source of the breeze catching paths of thrushes and finches circling above. Lowering his gaze the path of his Elk Turo and his young sons from the year prior and newborn twin daughters from a few days back and a pooling of pale yellow velvet behind a pair of bushes lowered his eyes from his steed's upon noticing the King's silver robes.

Extending his hand in hopes of helping her to her feet he caught the turn of her head and in the sight of her violet eyes his lips parted with no voice able to voice his offer of aid. Quickly her hand rose up to latch on his wrist and yank him down to where a King shouldn't be, on his knees with his hand draped across her lap, a soft, 'shh' and a muffled squeak in her crouching closer to the bushes too peer out at the young bucks and their sisters with a spreading grin. Unable to help it a grin spread across his face in taking in the details of her features between the flickers of light in the shadows in which she was hiding. "The steeds in Lothlorien are always so quick to bolt. Don't scare them."