Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

48. Restoration

I have seen Thranduil very little since the burial. He is occupied with the restoration efforts at all hours, and busy ensuring the homeless villagers have a place to stay within the keep. Gwendes is residing in my own chambers, sleeping on a makeshift bed near the hearth, while Gilrin and Tadion are staying in Ada's more spacious rooms next door. If anything good has come from the battle, it is end of the separation between Sindar and Silvan.

It has forced us closer together, not only in living arrangements, but in relying on each other's skills and knowledge in rebuilding our homeland.

Thranduil suggested in passing I should put my quill to use and create designs for new dwellings to be constructed in the near future. I spent late last night sketching various ideas, but was satisfied with none of them.

Now it is a new day and I am back in my scriptorium. Several discarded parchments rest on the corner of my table. Though I am eager to assist in helping with the restoration, my mind is set against me. It is elsewhere, far from these four walls and writing desk.

I drop my quill. It is no use.

After Thranduil's return from death, everything was revealed to me. His usual character does not consist of baring his soul. But he told the entire bitter tale from its beginning to end, admitting embarrassing truths and foolish mistakes.

He was adamant his journey between worlds was no fever dream. He agreed to end his vows with Itaril, despite a consequence. Silencing the voice of reason in my mind, I allowed a spring of hope to grow within me and become a fountain. When I noticed he no longer wore his wedding ring, the fountain overflowed. Even Gwendes questioned my sudden high spirits.

But now...now it is as if nothing happened. He treats me no differently than before, perhaps less so. At first I blamed it on him being distracted by the needs of his kingdom, but with the passing of time he still speaks to me like I am a mere acquaintance. And though he has retreated in the past after vulnerability, this feels different.

Perhaps he has guessed my feelings for him and does not wish to lead me astray. His intuition sets him apart from any other, even my father. I almost gave my own life to spare his, refusing to leave his side until his fate was known. Is it not obvious to everyone? There is little need for intuition when I have displayed such bold affection.

I bury my face in my hands. The explanation for his withdrawal is clear.

He knows.

I place aside another parchment of uninspired ideas and stride to the door. I must speak with Ada. Likely he knows what Thranduil does not have the heart to tell me. Better to hear the news from my father's gentle voice...

The door swings open after my first knock.

"Rîneth." His brow creases, and he looks behind his shoulder.

I follow his gaze. Thranduil is sitting in his favorite chair facing the door, his legs uncrossed and his back rigid. It is not the day of the week he normally visits for supper, nor have I been invited. He bows his head.

"My lord." I bow in return, relieved to hide my face, if only for a moment.

I nervously smooth my rose damask gown. Ada is still standing at the door, not offering me a seat or a glass of wine. It is the first time I have felt like an intruder in his home.

"Are you well, iell nín?"

"I am fine, though still tired. I confess I have not slept enough of late."

"I must ask Gwendes to ensure you retire to bed earlier." He places a hand on my shoulder. "Is there a reason you have come?"

I blink. Since when must I need a reason to visit him? Often I visit for no reason but his familial company...

"I wished to speak with you, but I was not aware you would be occupied."

"Thranduil's visit was not expected, but it was a pleasant surprise. We were discussing..." He smiles awkwardly. "...a private matter."

I look at Thranduil. He quickly averts his gaze to the wall, his expression as closed as a Dwarven door. Whatever their private matter, I have been shut out from it. Having been privy to their discussions for longer than I can remember, I feel like the air has been stolen from my lungs.

I step backwards to the door and try to remain composed.

"I apologize."

"There is nothing to forgive, iell nín. I shall find you later and we may talk then."

I force a wobbly smile. "It can wait. Enjoy your evening. Both of you."

My hand hovers over the door handle, but I cannot turn it. Not yet. Feeling a strong rush of boldness, I whip around, and my vision collides with Thranduil's before he has time to look away.

"Is everything well between us, mellon? We have not spoken much since..." I leave the sentence intentionally unfinished.

His slight nod tells me he understands. "Of course it is. I have had many matters to attend to; that is all."

It is the answer I expected, a tepid reply which gives no comfort. I open the door with a heavier heart than when I arrived. "Good night."

"Rîneth."

My hand still grips the handle, but I do not turn around.

"Tomorrow I am leaving on a day's journey. I would like you to accompany me."

"Where are we going, my lord?"

"Meet me at the bridge at the first light of morning. We must leave early."

I look over my shoulder and search Thranduil's wintry eyes for clues, but there is nothing. He keeps his secrets well hidden. He is more Dwarf-like than he knows.

"I shall be there."

"Maer fuin, Rîneth."

A hundred questions or more swirl in my mind like a cyclone for the rest of the evening. Why does he wish me to accompany him? Why is the destination a secret? Where are we going which will require a whole day's journey? I am mystified, and soon forget my hurt at not being a welcome guest in their private discussion.

I refuse to allow my imagination to mix in with the mystery, but I am helpless to prevent the tingle of excitement in having an entire day to spend with him.

A/N: Thanks to EVERYONE who commented on the last chapter! I wanted to go ahead and get this posted tonight, so I apologize for not replying yet, but I will soon. :)