Moonbeam

Chapter Fifteen

Tara listened to the rain pounding off the window, her eyes closed. The gentle sound of breathing made a soft noise in the room, and for the first time in hours, she felt relaxed.

Heat radiated from her left side, coming from the solid body sat next to her.

Thranduil sat with one knee over the other, turning the pages of the diary as he read through each one in silence. She was curled up on the couch, her head resting against his arm. Hours had passed, and repeating his actions from when he'd shown her the letter left for him by her mother, he hadn't left her side. He'd held her while she'd broken her heart. Cradled her as she'd cried herself to sleep. Carried her over to the couch as she'd woken up, tired and sore from sitting half on the floor and half on him for so long.

As before, he hadn't pushed her. No pressure for questions or answers, no pressing to uncover her thoughts and emotions.

He'd simply stayed with her.

Her eyes opened and she focused on the soft grey fabric that hugged the strong thighs so close in her line of vision, and her mouth went dry. She allowed her gaze to wander, coming to rest of the soft yet undeniably large bulge that rested in between his legs. Tearing her eyes away, she pushed herself into an upright position.

He turned his head and glanced at her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes and no," she said, after deciding how to answer. "I am confused. Angry. Lost. I am a lot of things right now."

He nodded. "I understand." He continued to turn the pages, almost at the end of the diary. "It appears Caladwen had more secrets than anyone," he murmered.

She shivered, tugging his cloak tighter around her as her gaze swept around the room. He'd wrapped the garment round her as she'd slept in his arms on the floor. "I need to get out of this room," she murmered, her brows coming down in a frown. "It is not good for me to be in here."

He inhaled deeply as he reached the end of the final entry, shaking his head as he closed the book. "I agree," he said. His eyes remained on the cover of the diary. "This is explosive," he murmered, almost to himself. "Come. We will leave this god-forsaken room and find something to eat." The book was tossed carelessly onto the drawer unit.

"I am not hungry," she said as she rose to her feet.

He stared down at her, towering over her as he stood next to her. "It was not a suggestion," he said. "And you will eat something. You have had nothing all day, and I will not have you falling ill through malnourishment. You are in my care and my protection, and I will ensure that your needs are met."

Her eyebrows lifted slightly at his tone.

He slid an arm through hers. "Come with me," he said in a softer voice as he led her through the doorway and out into the dark corridor. "We shall go to the kitchens and see what we can find."

"The cook will have gone home hours ago," she said.

"And the larder will be fully stocked," he replied. "So your concerns are pointless." A cheeky smile accompanied his words.

Rolling her eyes, she fell into step beside him as they walked along.

Soon afterwards, she found herself fighting the urge to giggle as he emerged from the pantry with an armload of food. "Hungry, are you?" she teased.

Ravenous, he thought. "Yes, and you must be too," he replied, bumping the door closed with his hip. His eyes roamed the interior of the kitchen store. "I do not think it would be a pleasurable experience to eat down here," he muttered, and strode past her.