Greenwood The Great

Rain

Thranduil turned the page. He had not really been paying full attention to the stack of papers that lay on his hands as his eyes carefully went trough all of them. If there was an aspect of his duties as King that he really did not enjoy was the tedious task of going through reports from the trading agreements. Not that he did think the matter was of little importance, or that it did not require his attention, but nonetheless it was a tedious task. Patrol reports were at least exciting, but these, oh these were simply long. At least he had already gone through half of them.

The Elvenking reached two fingers to his head, massaging his temple. These reports always gave him a headache. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he remembered that he was not the only one who had to go through these reports. Oh, no. He only got the revised version of them, in which things were laid out neatly and concisely, pointing out only the matters of importance. The Valar have mercy on the poor elf in charge of sorting out the reports beforehand and rewriting them for him.

A soft breeze toyed absently with his long light blond hair, and the King of Mirkwood allowed himself to look up from the stack of papers in his hands. The air was cool, anticipating rain in its soothing whistling. Thranduil let his ice blue eyes roam around the silent garden around him, stretching his legs on the long chaise upon which he was casually sitting. Yes, he knew that coming to his gardens to read these reports had been a brilliant idea. No one would come looking for him here unless the matter was of real importance.

A lazy thunder echoed through the humid air, followed by a sudden heavy curtain of rain, pouring from the sky without the gentle warning of first small drops. A soft smile drew on his lips. Now definitely no one would come looking for him. Not that he was bothered by the fact that his presence was mostly always needed for one matter or another, but this day had especially been a very very busy day, and he felt incredibly relieved to have a moment of privacy.

Letting out a silent sigh, the Elvenking put the papers on the cushions next to him, placing a heavy book he had brought with him over them so that they would not be blown away by the breeze. For a moment, he concentrated only of the gentle sound of the swaying trees, and the heady drops drumming on the roof of the small gazebo he was occupying.

It was then that a figure running aimlessly through the curtain of heavy caught his attention. The smile on his lips grew wider as he recognized the figure that had been surprised by the rain. He could not take his eyes from her, watching her as she ran through the wet gardens, her hands over her head in a pathetic attempt to block the rain. He could not help but feel almost entirely surprise to see Alarya. What was she doing in the Palace? He had had no idea she was here. When had she arrived?

Alarya's large green eyes spotted the gazebo –his gazebo – and he saw her dashing in its direction, not noticing that it was already occupied. He did not move, simply watching her. Even as she ran from the heavy rain, she looked so elegant and graceful. He watched her reach the gazebo, dropping her hands to her sides as she stepped out of the rain, shaking the water from her arms and dress. She still had not noticed him, taking her long soaked golden hair and twisting it over her shoulder to let it drip on the marble floor.

"You are making a puddle on my perfectly dry floor."

She jumped at his peaceful voice, for the first time noticing that she was not alone. Her eyes immediately turned in his direction, and he sat straighter on the chaise, letting his feet casually drop back to the floor. She flashed him on her flawless smiles, and once again he could not read the expression in her gleaming emerald eyes.

"Good afternoon, my Lord." She greeted him, sounding almost reluctantly, like a child caught stealing the sweets from the kitchen. And yet, the flawless smile never left her lips, her eyes still gleaming with their usual life.