Brightest Stars | Love of Royals: Book I

IV: Regrets

I spend the rest of the day wondering whether or not it was a dire mistake to let myself go outside with Thranduil.  He's taken it as if I'm staying here for longer than I intend.  What he doesn't know is that as soon as I can walk without support, I'm leaving here faster than he could say Mirkwood.

However, going outside with him has somewhat lessened the tension between us.  He seems more relaxed—even I seem more relaxed, for heaven's sake.  Perhaps it is good that we are no longer waiting for something to happen that neither of us could control.

The following hours spent in my room are enjoyable ones, I have to admit. We tell each other stories: mine from memorable events I saw from the sky, and his from the juicy gossip of the Woodland Realm that even I couldn't have found out on my own. Each second, a little bit of Thranduil will soften, and he'll start to smile more, talk more, even laugh. By evening he's sat comfortably on the end of my bed, one hand on my good leg and the other gesticulating in the air as he gives me detailed descriptions of the elves he finds most irritating.

'Tavalon's children are probably the worst out of all of them. The entire family considers itself better than everyone because it's one of the only fully Sindar families in a mainly Silvan kingdom—Tavalon travelled from Doriath with my father and I before this place was built. He was a close friend in those days, but then he married and had the next most obnoxious creatures to orcs, in my opinion: Avalor and Avadhil. The elder sibling is greedy, selfish and drawls like this...' Thranduil drew out his words into a patronising tone, 'and he'll probably think you're an absolute goldmine if he finds you. He'll go on about your beauty until you want to skewer him with his own sword. Oh, and the younger, he's equally if not more selfish, and extremely inconsiderate to others besides his posse of Sindar friends he uses as bodyguards most of the time. If you do encounter him, he's less likely to flatter you and more likely to tease you simply for his own amusement. He knows if he flatters you he'll have his big brother at his neck—and trust me, no one likes Avalor when he's angry.'

'You don't like him even when he's in a happy mood, do you?' I tease.

'No, I do not. Tavalon, Avalor and Avadhil are all ones you should try to avoid. But be warned, I have the right to avoid whom I please and yet they still have a way of finding me!'

When we laugh at the same time, it just seems to fit. There's a sparkle growing in Thranduil's eyes that I haven't had the pleasure of seeing before, and when the time comes for him to leave and go to bed, I really don't want him to.

He looks around quickly; my room is only lit by a small lamp and the silver moonlight slipping through the windows and cleaving the shadows like a knife. 'Goodnight, Elena,' he says, smiling fondly at me as he rises from the bed, 'see you in the morning.'

Suddenly, from a gut instinct, my hand shoots up and clasps the King's hand firmly. Our eyes meet, and at first he looks a little confused—in fact I think I look equally confused as to why I felt the need to touch him—but then, he smiles. He encloses my hand between both of his and holds it softly, while with every breath my heart seems to beat faster and faster. Then, without warning, he pulls my hand to his lips and kisses it, slowly but with confidence, before placing it down on the duvet. Before I can take in what just happened, Thranduil is gone, leaving behind only a gust of wind from the swish of his robes, a strange feeling in my chest, and a warm mark on my hand.

***

I don't dream.  I only reminisce about Thranduil's kiss on my hand.  It seems to have dulled my senses and sent me spiralling into a sleepy fantasy.  I'm not sure why it means so much, but when morning creeps in and I awaken from my first ever blissful night's sleep, it's all I can think about.