Brightest Stars | Love of Royals: Book I

XXVI: No Warrior

I leap at the chance to see Gelya later the following day.  However, Thranduil has said that she will be unavailable until the evening due to 'personal matters', which I can only hope she divulges to me when we meet. I also can't help but wonder if Thranduil knows what they are.

In the meantime, Thranduil has been in and out of our chambers—yes, they are our chambers now—all morning, as he is constantly called to meet with advisors, answer inquiries, and deal with a very agitated prince, to name a few of his requirements.  Evidently, elves all across the kingdom have been affected by the recent conflict, and it is up to Thranduil to restore order.  He claims to only be returning to our chambers to receive more medicine for his wounds every so often, but he's healing awfully well; there's no point in him concealing the real reasons from me. 

Still feeling strangely rejuvenated after yesterday's cleansing in Samlîn, I thought it would be best if I remained away from the company of other elves until the post-battle chaos dies down.  Therefore the limited space and entertainment of our chambers wull have to suffice for now.  Although I yearn to read a good book, the mere memory of my last time in Thranduil's library is enough to make me sick to the stomach.  I cannot go in there alone—not yet.

'I'm done for today, meleth nín!' Thranduil announces proudly, as he strides through the door to the lounge to find me sat comfortably at the desk in the corner.  I look up from where I've been drawing ink patterns all over a piece of paper, on which I have somehow managed to capture the shapes of leaves and flowers in between the arrays of black swirls. Thranduil leans over my shoulder to admire it, though within seconds I feel his gaze leaving the artwork and resting on me. 'That is beautiful. I'm glad to see my ink has been put to good use.'

'I was only doodling,' I admit, grinning, 'but thank you. How was your last meeting?' I turn to Thranduil expectantly, fully prepared for him to roll his eyes and begin to vent his frustration, but instead, he smirks.

'My last meeting was with the weapons makers.  I requested to have some personal weapons made for you, and said I would tell them some designs tomorrow after you have tested a few different styles.'

'Weapons?  For me?' I say in disbelief, 'I assure you, I can just use some spares, I do not need my own—'

'A warrior can only fight to the best of their ability when their weapons are perfectly suited to them.'

'I think you're mistaken, I am no warrior—'

'Perhaps not yet,' Thranduil cuts across me, 'but you are able to defend yourself, as I saw yesterday.'

'You saw me?'

'I saw you displaying the makings of a great warrior.  You could be at the level of my best fighters one day,' he answers genuinely, then adding with a smirk, 'with no small amount of practice beforehand.'

'You don't understand,' I say morosely, 'I only feel alright now because I bathed in Samlîn.  Before that, I was in one of the worst states I've ever been in.  The battle terrified me.'

His smirk fading, Thranduil puts his hand on my shoulder gently.  'It is that terror that you need to turn into power.  It will come to you with time.  But what I can do is teach you the skill—how to apply that power.'

'I know you want to, but you cannot turn this into a warrior.' I gesture sadly to my elleth body.  'I know I'm tall, but I'm hardly strong or coordinated enough to fight properly.  Yesterday was just a one-off.'