Playing with Fire [Legolas/Tauriel]

12: The Betrothal

Chapter 12

Thranduil strode down the hall, his blue robes trailing behind him. Today was the day. In a few hours, his only son would be betrothed to Lady Eyela of Rivendell.

It was true that he felt remorse, considering that he and Anona fell in love and married. But his remorse was not enough to change his mind, or his heart. He loved Anona; but his love for her had also made him quite weak. Legolas would never experience that.

Who knows? He thought, stopping at the double oak doors that led into his son’s bedroom. Maybe he will fall in love with Eyela, over time.

His first knock received no answer. “Legolas?” He called.

“My lord!” Dalyor opened the doors wide, his expression apologetic.

Thranduil looked past the servant and his gaze softened.

Legolas was fast asleep, his flaxen hair draped over his pillow, his arm lying uselessly to one side. His breathing was deep; he had not stirred at his father’s presence.

“Shall I wake him, my lord?”

“No, no,” Thranduil waved his hand, averting his gaze from his son’s innocent looking face. “Let him sleep another hour. Just make sure he doesn’t miss his own betrothal.”

He must be exhausted, he thought. He never sleeps in.

Before leaving he gave Dalyor instructions about the patrol. “Tell Tauriel that she will be doing her morning patrol alone,” he ordered.

“Yes, very good sire.” Dalyor nodded, but he seemed like he needed to say something more.

“What is it, Dalyor?”

Dalyor looked at the king sheepishly. “Well, it’s just that the prince has been acting very troubled lately and I was wondering if your Highness would be so kind as to tell me what is plaguing his mind.”

Thranduil only raised an eyebrow.

Dalyor’s face paled, believing he had stepped out of line. “I’m truly sorry, my lord, it’s just that I wish to help him—“

“Dalyor.” Thranduil raised his hand to stop the other elf’s bantering. “Legolas is…” he trailed off, and looked at his son. “He’s just stressed about the betrothal,” he finished, not entirely saying everything he had wanted to.

Dalyor nodded again. “Very well, my lord. I shall speak to him.”

Before Thranduil could ask what he meant by this, Legolas turned over, and Dalyor stiffened.

“I shall leave you,” the king said. “I’m sure you will have him looking handsome in no time,” he joked, winking at the servant.

Dalyor smiled. “Your son is already very handsome, my lord. Lady Eyela is a lucky elleth to be getting such a well-rounded husband. You’ve raised him well.”

Thranduil looked at the other elf in surprise. It was not unusual for the lords and ladies of the court to comment on Legolas, and on his upbringing. But he had never heard a good friend of his son’s say such a thing about him. It put a small, very rare smile on his face.

“Thank you, Dalyor.”

He continued down the hall, trying to disregard the regrets and worries that kept swirling around in his mind. He thought of Anona, and her words to him.

 I did the right thing for my son, he thought. Right?

****

****