Finding my way Home

A King needs no advice

I apologize for my absence and this short chapter as a way of getting back into the swing of things. The only excuse is that major life changes have occurred since the beginning of December. I hope to be able to update more frequently in the days to come.

Melora was hugging the children when an elf she did not recognize approached Feren. The elf nodded to Melora, and Feren came to her side. "King Thranduil is requesting that we return," Feren told her softly.

Melora nodded and smiled at the children, "I will find you before I leave, I promise," she told them softly as she turned to Feren. "I'm ready." Melora followed Feren back toward the tent. She was a little self-conscious when she noticed the elves they passed openly staring at her. She knew she was still in the ruined dress even if Thranduil had washed the dirt from her face when she had passed out earlier. She wasn't sure if they were staring because she was a mess, and they had never seen an elf as dirty as her, or if it was because they were in awe that she supposedly returned. "Feren," Melora whispered, and he turned toward her.

"Yes, my Queen," he answered.

"Do I look horrible?" She asks him softly.

"No, my Queen, why would you ask?" Feren questioned.

"Everyone we have passed is staring," Melora told him.

"They are just in awe, as I told you earlier, my Queen; it will pass soon," Feren assured as he opened the tent flap for her. Feren let her pass ahead of him and then entered himself and bowed, "I have returned your Queen unharmed and will wait outside unless you need me for anything else right now."

"That will be all Feren," Thranduil dismissed as Feren stepped outside the tent.

Thranduil was standing there still as regal as ever; Melora could not read his mood by his face alone, but Mithrandir was still standing there, and Melora noticed that he seemed to be in deep thought if the frown on his forehead was any indication. Melora folded her hands in front of her in nervousness. She knew she had told the children she wanted to go with Thranduil and see if she could find where she belonged, but now she was afraid it wouldn't even be an option. "Did you have a good conversation?" Melora asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.
"I believe it was very insightful, my Lady," Mithrandir told her, leaning on his staff.

"That is good." Melora squeaked out; she was never good with small talk, and small talk with a wizard, and a King was no exception. She continued playing with her hands clasped before her and glanced at Thranduil again.

"Mithrandir believes that there is reason to fear that you are not who you appear to be," Thranduil said in his silken voice, "That I am being deceived and am just grasping at straws as I have lived so deeply in my grief for centuries."
Melora bites her lip and looks first at Thranduil and then at Mithrandir, "I see," she says quietly. Her stomach feels like it is in knots, worse than when she found herself in this world in the first place, maybe even worse than when she woke up five years ago, not knowing who she was or where she belonged. She hadn't realized it, but the hope that she might finally belong somewhere had been building since Thranduil, and now it seemed it was all crashing down around her. "Well, that's that." She hoped her voice wasn't trembling as much as she felt like it was. "I am just going to go and find Bard," she breathed out, backing toward the door flap and trying to fight the urge to run. She didn't want to make a bigger fool out of herself than she already had.

She had almost reached the door when Thranduil continued, " Nin mel," he called, and she stopped retreating, "While Mithrandir may offer advice, in this case, it is not needed or wanted." Thranduil leveled a look at the grey wizard.