A Reason to Stay

This story was just another one I had in my back pocket. It's only a few short chapters and is simply my take on the loss of Thranduil's wife and what compelled the Elven king to ultimately stay and forego sailing west. As with all of my stories, this story was just written for pleasure and, I'm sure, has many technical inaccuracies. Please just overlook and enjoy it for what it is!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Cílon (whose beginnings with the royal family you'll get to see in this story).

Translations for entire story:

Hir-nin = my lord

Penneth = young one

Ion-nin = my son

Herven-nin = my husband

Bereth-nin = my wife

Mel-nin = my love

Hannon-leh = thank you

Ada = father

Naneth = mother

"Your grace, the master of Dale presses for greater payment."

An impatient sigh escaped the lips of the Elven King. "Again?"

"He cites the reason for this upcharge to be your grace's increased demands in wine barrels for the upcoming party," quoted the woodland messenger, daring to peek a brief glimpse at his king to gauge his mood before continuing. "He states the normal shipment at the previous price would be satisfactory but that this rushed, larger order should be compensated accordingly." The Elven King cocked his head forward and raised a single eyebrow.

"And his proposed terms are…?" The messenger bit his lip and nervously glanced once back down at the parchment in his hands.

"15%...?" the Silvan elf replied and gave his king a quizzical look, unsure if the terms would sit well with him. The messenger guessed correctly and inwardly cringed as he watched the king's eyes widen, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and his posture lean forward from his chair.

"15?" repeated the king in shock. The messenger swallowed nervously.

"Yes, my lord," he confirmed and rolled up the scroll bearing the legal mark of Dale. The king sighed in frustration and rose from behind his desk, placing his palms flat against the smooth wood of the table top as he stood.

"We shall give 5% and no more," instructed the king and the messenger in a discreet burst of activity flourished out a pen to record his orders. "I will agree to a raise in the fee for the rushed demands but will not be cheated. After this order, we will return to the agreed upon contract. I think that is fair for all parties involved." The king set his chin firm as he slowly rounded the desk, preparing to retire for the evening. As he gathered a few letters from his large pile of work to privately address, he smirked. "They will not argue as we are their sole source of income for that trade and have little choice but to meet our wishes," he smiled smugly.

"Until they discover they are our sole supplier," muttered the servant as he continued his scribbling. The king paused his walk to the door and the messenger froze as he realized he had greatly spoken out of turn. He heard the rustle of the king's robes behind him as he turned and felt his weighty gaze upon his back. He swallowed again, waiting for the king to speak. The tense silence stretched for a minute more before he heard a reply.

"Quite," was all that was said on the subject, the king's tone unreadable but for a hint of warning. A pause of disciplinary silence followed to solidify its meaning before the monarch spoke again, his tone returning to its normal steady note of authority. "We shall continue with the rest tomorrow." The messenger did not release his breath until the doors shut heavily behind the king.

Pale elven fingers danced in clear, warm water, causing a small current to swirl and circle. A single green leaf bounced and bobbled along with the gentle current, twisting this way and that, ever slowly coursing downstream. Two pairs of eyes beheld the leaf. The first, a young pair of blue sapphires, gleaming with excited focus. The other, a gentle laughing pair of silver-white gems, pure as starlight, watching the owner of the first one with pleasure.

"Be patient, penneth. Wait until it comes within your reach," the young female elf whispered eagerly to her son who obeyed with restrained energy. They both watched the leaf bobble along as it came closer and closer towards them. "Wait for it…" she whispered again, her giddiness leaking through. Her son's eyes widened with adrenaline as the leaf trickled nearer until finally it was close enough for him to pounce upon it. The warm tub water splashed up on them both and the laughter of mother and child blended together in rippling melody. The boy proudly thrust his hand upwards towards his mother, the green leaf clutched victoriously in chubby fingers. "Delightful, my darling!" encouraged the young she-elf and bent down to kiss his soft hand. "You did it again!" The baby chortled happy cries of excitement and splashed the water around him in triumph.

The sound of the bedroom door opening distracted the mother from her charge and her smile broke out wider as she saw her tall husband enter.

"You have arrived just in time, herven-nin," she greeted brightly as she twisted farther from the wooden bathtub to see him. "Our son has just managed to catch yet another stray leaf! That makes four now, just tonight!"

Thranduil briefly glanced up from the various letters in his hands as he crossed the room to his private desk in the corner. "You are aware, Amathwen, that we do in fact have servants for this chore," he drawled as he sorted through the letters, his back to his family.

"It is not a chore!" countered Amathwen brightly, as she attempted a disapproving scowl and failed miserably. "I enjoy bathing him! We have fun adventures together in this little tub. Don't we, ion-nin?" She cooed as she turned back around to scrunch her nose up playfully at her firstborn. The baby giggled back and pressed the wet leaf to her cheek. Amathwen smiled and took the offered leaf from her son. "You should come watch and play with us, mel-nin. Our son's aim is quite excellent."

Thranduil gave a small smile at his young wife's gaiety and finished reading the last bit of one of the letters before placing them on the desk to draw closer to the wooden tub that had been placed in their large bedroom beside the lit fireplace. His son generally would be bathed in the tub in his nursery by his maids, but his wife had a peculiar habit of insisting she bathe him in their own room. "Legolas is very bright for such a young age. I would expect nothing less," he commented as he gathered his robes and knelt to the floor beside his wife at the tub's edge. "Show me," he requested softly and smiled with pride down at his young son. The baby eagerly watched his mother place the crumpled leaf at the far end of the tub and swirl her hand to create the currents. The small leaf twisted and spun in the wake of her graceful fingers and soon approached Legolas. The baby squealed with glee as the leaf floated closer until…SPLASH!

Thranduil jumped back slightly as warm droplets splattered his face and he blinked quickly. After carefully rubbing a few drops out of his eyes, he saw his son happily clutching the leaf and presenting it with pride. "Well done, ion-nin! With aim such as that, you may have some skill as a warrior someday," he praised his son with a smile but Legolas was too occupied with studying the leaf to notice.

"Or at least a hunter of leaves maybe," laughed Amathwen and Thranduil joined her in her mirth. "Do you wish to try, Ada?" Thranduil hesitated briefly before nodding, and Amathwen turned to coax her son to give up his prized possession. "Give the leaf to Ada, Legolas," she prodded as she brushed the short wet blond locks out of her son's eyes. But Legolas could not be convinced as he was too content to simply inspect the leaf. Amathwen tried two more times before Thranduil sighed and stood.

"Perhaps another time then. The evening draws late as it is," he hinted as he headed towards his closet to undress. Amathwen sighed in agreement but her smile quickly returned as she selected a choice fluffy towel nearby and scooped Legolas out of the bathwater. By the time Thranduil had returned, his wife had properly dried off their son and wrestled him into his nightgown. He noted the servants had also been by to remove the bathtub. Amathwen eagerly approached him as he drew near the bed and gently deposited their son into his arms so she could undress herself. Realizing he was being separated from his mother, Legolas began to whine and grow fussy, stretching to see where she had gone. Thranduil gently hushed his son and stroked his hair to calm him.

"Hush, penneth. Naneth will return, I promise," he softly whispered in the baby's ear and drank in his clean scent of pine from his bath. Legolas's lower lip still trembled and he continued to whine until Amathwen reappeared. It was all Thranduil could do to keep Legolas from leaping out of his arms and into his mother's.

"Now, now, penneth. There is no reason to cry. I am here. Ada is here," encouraged Amathwen as Legolas simmered down against her chest. "So no more tears tonight." She glanced up at Thranduil's taut expression and sighed with an embarrassed smile. "He's just tired, mel-nin."

"I seem to catch him often when he is tired then," her husband merely stated as he headed towards his side of the bed.

"Thranduil, this is natural and happens to many fathers. Just give it time," Amathwen tried to reassure him before exiting their room to go put their son down for the night. Thranduil poured himself a glass of wine before lowering himself down to their large bed and waited for his wife to return.

Amathwen returned not but ten minutes later and grinned as she shut the door behind her. "He is already fast asleep! That bath must have drained him." Thranduil merely hummed in reply as he took another sip of his glass before setting it on the side table. He allowed his eyes to survey his beautiful wife as she removed her evening robe and fingered her golden hair to loosen her intricate braids. She caught him looking but he didn't shy away and merely smiled broader. "I see something pleases you, hir-nin?" she teased him and started to undress further until there was nothing left but a single strand of white gems which she always wore about her neck.

"Hmm, I always see something that pleases me," he complimented as she crawled onto the bed to draw closer and he drew himself up on one arm to lean over her. His face momentarily frowned. "Although…" Amathwen's face suddenly fell at his tone. Her immediate change in expression amused him as he realized she mistook his meaning.

"You did not let me finish," he laughed aloud and ran a gentle hand down her cheek to soften her worried expression. "I was merely going to say that you should have a necklace more fit for a queen made for you," he softly told her as his long graceful fingers trailed lovingly down her neck and fingered the simple white gems that hung there.

"But what is wrong with these? I'm quite fond of them," she playfully pouted and reached up to brush back some of her husband's long white blond hair so she could see his face more clearly.

"There is nothing wrong with them, bereth-nin," he assured her and bent to place the softest of kisses at the tender portion of her throat. "I just wish to give you the best is all." He felt her hum in satisfaction as his hands snaked around her bare body and pulled her closer to him.

"Perhaps as a wedding anniversary gift then sometime," she whispered, beginning to lose touch with rational thought as his lips began to explore her. "For now, it is only you that I want."

Thranduil paused in his ministrations to look upon his angel, absolute adoration and loving worship only in his eyes. "For me, you are all that I ever want," he breathed, his hot breath tickling her bare skin. Amathwen's smile shone as radiant as her eyes, causing the gems at her neck to fade in comparison. For the rest of the night, the Elven king and his wife proved to the other their undying love and pure passion for the other, with the twinkling starlight as only a witness.

So chapter one ends happy for the Elven king and his family…something I can't really promise obviously for the rest of this story.

I tried to sort of fill in some gaps with the gems and their connection to Thranduil's wife. (By the way, if you have never watched the behind the scenes stuff regarding those gems for the Hobbit movies, definitely watch it as it explains a lot about their take on them and Thranduil's obsession with them. Watching that sort of prompted this short story.) I know people write Thranduil's wife in different ways, but I always have sort of pictured her as very light-hearted which would balance him out a bit. I see her as his light in a very dark world, which is why she is very precious to him. I also tried to give her traits that I could see manifesting in Legolas—namely her playfulness and curiosity. I picture her as quite a bit smaller than Thranduil and much more delicate and gentle in appearance but deceptively very strong and resilient (also to sort of show how Legolas is a blend of his two parents). Let me know what you think! Reviews are appreciated!