Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

Suspected

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Chapter Thirty: Suspected

Three Thousand Years Ago...

When Thranduil woke up, he was alone. The left side of the bed was empty, and the sheets were cold. He placed his hand over his heart, concentrated on their bond. He could feel it faintly, like a pinprick of light in a dark tunnel—just as dim and just as distant.

He ignored the wave of disappointment he felt at her absence. Expecting her to stay was too much to ask probably. It wouldn't be the first time that Thranduil had expected too much, that he had wanted more than he should have.

He rolled off the bed. Still, last night had been...wonderful. Thranduil's heart sped up just from the memory of it. He dressed quickly, ran his brush through the back of his hair, smoothed it down.

He wanted his wife.

He went to her room, not the new one next to Thranduil's room, not the one meant for a princess of the realm, but her old room in her family's quarters. He suspected it was some sort of power play on her part, not that he cared.

Thranduil entered without knocking and was stopped by a maid. She pursed her lips and didn't try to hide her disapproval. "Prince Thranduil! Her ladyship is not available."

Thranduil quirked an eyebrow. "I'm her husband?" He brushed past her.

The maid planted herself in front of him. "Your lordship, my lady is in the middle of her morning ablutions and does not wish to be disturbed!"

"I have no wish to disturb her, only to speak with her," the prince said and reached for the door to Elarien's chambers.

"My Lord! My Lady is not decent!" the maid squawked.

Thranduil's hand stilled on the knob. He turned, just slightly enough to see the lady's maid and give her a withering look. "It's nothing I wouldn't have seen last night. Please leave us."

On the far side of the room, Elarien was in the middle of a bath.

"Abusing the servants again, Thranduil?" she said lightly.

"Hardly." His eyes took in the long white column of her neck, the blonde curls piled atop her head, her bare arms and shoulders wet and shining in the candlelight. His mouth suddenly felt dry. "I missed you this morning," he told her.

"How awfully sweet you are," she said and rose from the tub. "Of course, if my maid were still here, she could hand my robe to me." Her skin was bright pink as if she had scrubbed it thoroughly.

Thranduil picked up the robe and handed it to her. He could not help but watch her.

"You could have stayed with me." His voice sounded unsure.

"I know," she answered breezily, squeezing the water from her long pale golden hair.

He refused to be put off by her nonchalance. "Then why didn't you?" Thranduil asked.