To Live Again: In her Hands {Lord of the Rings / Thranduil fanfic}

7. Mid Winter Feast - Part I

I am so sorry! This SHOULD have been updated forever ago! I'm distracted. I have so many stories running riot in my imagination at the moment. GAH! Terrible author...I know I am you don't have to tell me...

Okay so the Mid-Winter Feast chapters will be in Three parts. Just feels right to do it that way.

This chapter begins after Thranduil has had his outburst at the table at the feast, and is hiding out - as usual - watching the party unfold from a relatively safe distance.

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She was beautiful...truly breathtaking. I had never saw her look so regal in all of her time here, and as per true Clara fashion, she had not the faintest notion of how dazzling her presence was.

I have hid out, behind the pillar of the darkest corner I could possibly find, and still I see how she radiates life from here.  With a sigh I proceed to lean my weight through the stone and continue to watch her, obscured by the deep green of the thick velvety banners draping the walls of the Great Hall.  A smile tugs on my lips as I watch her spin in lively circles with the children. Her cheeks flushed pink with giddy exertion. The hems of her dress hoisted up so she can demonstrate her fancy footwork to excitable elflings.

I note the dainty slippers, and I suppress a chuckle at the mere thought of her trying to execute similar steps in ridiculously  heeled shoes. I had clear visions of her ripping them from her feet and lobbing them at the nearest unsuspecting Lord or Lady. No, my Clara is not very fond of complicated fashion...although that dress?

I may be slightly distracted and more than a little hot under the collar when she exposes just a little more of her shapely calf through the sleek, almost mist like material.  I believe that dress was made to be teasing, for it follows the line of body so perfectly - from the curve of her leg, to fullness of her hip, and the length of her back, scooping across her chest so I have just enough neck exposed to allow my desires to run riot.

I feel like a youth again, she makes me feel hot blooded and possessive, all those things that you are supposed to put behind you.  Ada says that it is not right, or proper, to be controlled by your spirited desires. Although, I find that hard to swallow, hard to marry with the essence of who we are.  Maybe ruling, and politics, possibly even battle, is easier or more defined when one can think logically and calculatedly around it...but love...and a mate? No, I am afraid it is something I cannot think logically about. I want to feel it, I am too curious and too bold for my own good. Yes there is a difference between love and passion, but unless you feel it how can you know for sure? I do not believe I know for sure myself. What I do know is simple...the heart wants what it wants.  It feels right, it feels proper, and if it is a mistake or if I am being too hasty then so be it. I would rather risk it all than go on with regrets for the sake of opinion, besides when did I ever care for opinions? Seems pointless to break the habit of a lifetime now.

A slow smirk spreads across my lips, as I consider the uproar of my decision - taking an elleth of unknown origin as a wife - the council will be scandalised! Adar will probably not be able to look at me for a week straight - maybe a month if he is particularly difficult. Oh, and the neighbours...what will those haughty Noldor war mongers think? Ha...very little I'd imagine, or at the very least they might pass on a congratulatory note. As for Adar's Sindar acquaintances...well...if I am not already a black mark on their ever so spotless names, I surely will be now. Although it is not like she has even consented to pledge herself to me yet, nor is she even aware of my intent...this could backfire?

Hmm, perhaps you should calm yourself Thranduil, and just focus on actually asking her first! Because we all know how terribly eloquent you are with these sorts of things...note - do not threaten to hit someone again, that is not an attractive trait.