Encounters with the Elven King

Confusion

Confusion

To say that the King did not notice the change in Isilmë's behavior these past two moons would have been an understatement and insult to him. Likewise, Isilmë was sure Thranduil had noticed as well.

Ever since the night at the Fall Solstice gathering, Isilmë saw her sister, Aurë, and the King hand in hand; she had decided to dedicate her time and efforts differently. She was completely resolute in her ways to learn and leave his presence immediately. She would hardly spend time at home either for she'd always find a reason to train or go patrolling before nightfall.

Isilmë made sure to always make small talk with her sister. How her day fared, how her health continued, what she'd done that day. Isilmë found herself to be a completely different person recently, like a youthful child; and it was a change she did not like nor accept very well. It was unbecoming of her to act in such a way.

Isilmë could not quite understand why she was feeling the way she did; but, she knew she could not continue to do so for much longer. The King was her tutor in the healing arts, and as King he had the experience to maybe know what she was dealing with. The thought of even asking Thranduil always made Isilmë shake her head though. Somehow, deep inside, she knew the problem rooted with him.

As the doting sister Isilmë was, she would never stump any possibility of Aurë having a better future. In her own opinion, Isilmë thought she was in her sister's way.

It was during an early morning that Isilmë found herself submerged within one of the rivers that ran through Mirkwood. She had cleared the area previously, everyday for the past two weeks, before she decided to venture there and bathe. Her steed, a dark tanned stallion named Giliath, awaited patiently for his companion as she doused herself in the cold waters.

Isilmë had to admit that the cold water helped numb her skin and mind, which was saying much considering how resistant elves were to cooler temperatures. And yet, even with a numb mind she could not help but think on this new emotion that overwhelmed her senses.

Sighing, Isilmë swam towards the riverbank and sat down. In nothing but a sheer tunic covering her body, clinging to her every contour, she sat down and brought her legs closer to her body. The temperature was dropping quickly now that winter was fast approaching. Dutifully, Giliath trotted behind his loyal friend before kneeling and laying behind her.

She stayed sitting there, with arms crossed over her legs, for what may have been long, precious, silent hours. Her eyes felt heavy and she continued to berate herself. What had happened? Since when was she a love-struck child brooding over-

Isilmë's eyes widened. Love-struck? No... No, no, no, no, no! She shook her head violently, her hands in her hair as a frustrated whimper escaped her chest. He was her King! He'd have no interest in her... He was just her teacher. Is this why she felt so torn? Because he had shown interest in her sister? Is this why she avoided-?! After so many years of having a widowed King, he finally began to open?

Realization of what was happening began to finally dawn on her. Her! Isilmë. The elder of the two sisters. She was supposed to be the more experienced of the two... and yet... She had never once experienced this sensation before. Elves were known for their long lives; for taking years courting and loving... before having or starting a family. Children were few and far between because of how long their lives were.

It was not unheard of for some elves to fall deeply in-love, or to form an emotional connection, faster than what was the norm. But why did it have to be him?! The untouchable male of this kingdom...

Why?

A single tear finally escaped the elleth's green-like eyes, it was one she quickly and angrily swiped away. The shock of her numb fingers against her skin made her gasp at the contrast before warmth suddenly enveloped her like a radiant sun.

Soft, thick silk wrapped around her, now realizing, shivering form. Isilmë instantly recognized the royal material, her hazy chartreuse eyes meeting with -worried?- blue eyes. She looked away and hung her head, ashamed of her sudden behavior. And yet... he was here.

Many thoughts ran through the King's mind, but none could explain why his dear elleth was in this state of mind. It was as if she were fading from a broken heart. The thought alone was strong enough to invoke a painful feeling in his chest. His brow furrowed as he gazed over her cold form before gently lifting her into his arms.

Giliath slowly followed Thranduil and Isilmë as he easily hoisted them both atop his elk. He looked down at the cradled form in his arms before expelling a sigh. He would take the off roads back to his kingdom.

The ride remained silent, that much he expected as he covered her face with the hood of the cloak he previously wrapped her in. Isilmë neither spoke nor looked at him, a bothering feeling compared to her usual fiery personality. Thranduil would curse whoever had done this!

He had made it back home with little to no interruption, making sure to steer clear of any members within his caverns. He brought the elleth to one of his private anti-chambers... One he recalled not entering in many a hundred years.

It was there that he carried Isilmë near the fire's hearth and sat down with her. Not knowing what else to do, Thranduil wrapped his arms around the elleth, warming her from the outside chill she was foolish enough to stay in. He sighed once more before sadly letting his head fall to the back of her neck where he took in another deep breath.

So many memories danced across his mind in this room. Memories he berated. Memories that brought both sadness and anger within them. And yet... these were memories that were currently stilled because of the elleth in his arms.

Isilmë remained quiet. An agonizingly slow torment warred within her mind before a knock drew her attention. Isilmë's eyes widened as a worried looking Aurë entered the anti-chamber with a tray of herbs and tea. Aurë gasped, quickly setting down the tray before almost running to her sister's side.

Thranduil looked up as he eyed the exchange between the two siblings. Aurë lovingly placed her hand on her sister's face, examining her before placing a chaste kiss above her crown. Isilmë, lost in what was happening only remained quiet as her sister looked back and nodded at their King and left.

The slow aroma of her favorite tea began to cover the room before she looked up at her King. His normally well guarded eyes looked almost pained as he gazed back at her, his one arm subconsciously tightening around her as he laid back against the many pillows and throws in the room.

Carefully, Thranduil ran a hand down Isilmë's hair, making her look away from him. The action almost burned before she slowly lowered her head onto his chest and over his beating heart.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she closed her eyes.

There was that tightening in his chest again. He sighed, allowing his head to fall over hers once more before resting his eyes as well. It seemed there was much they both needed to speak about; but, not now. Now, they would both hold this silent agreement and understanding.