The Queen's Heart
Summary: Marriage requires both parties to meet halfway. Thranduil, son of Oropher, must learn to do the same.
Disclaimer: Not one betrothal ring.
Rating: T simply for safety.
All of my stories are interconnected unless stated otherwise but you do not need to read one to understand the other.
My stories are now available in the form of a list in chronological sequence on my bio.
Enjoy!
~S~
She danced alone under the trees.
He wanted to join her but at the moment, he was content in watching. Besides, he never liked dancing.
The moss covered ground was damp and springy from the rain of yester eve. There was no music; whatever she heard that mapped her dance was something only for her imagination. There were no flowers either to follow the line of her steps; these were just myths sung in ballads to make dancing maidens more beautiful in mind's eye. She did not need such exaggerations. She was beautiful to him without them.
She did not know he was watching, and he did not make himself known. Instead, he prowled in the shadows of the trees, pleading to them wordlessly not to give him away to her. The trees obeyed reluctantly, even if they were free. They did not need to listen to him, but he was desperate.
She was dressed in green and gold, her hair done in intricate braids and pinned in place with numerous pins laden with green stones. Her betrothal ring flashed on the index finger of her right hand, the companion of which he wore on his own hand. So she did not take it off. The situation was still salvageable.
All couples fought. But that did not mean it lessened the gravity of what he did. He disregarded his betrothed completely and failed to understand her feelings. It was a small thing they fought on and now that he looked back, he felt he should have been kinder and gentler. His father certainly seemed to think so. Oropher witnessed the entirety of their argument.
His father's disappointing look after Arodien fled the room was more than enough to make him feel small. His next set of words made him feel even smaller.
"You disappoint me," Oropher delivered the words quietly, without an ounce of anger. And yet he felt their weight on his shoulders.
"Why did you not stop me?" He demanded of his father. Oropher only leaned back in his chair and eyed him.
"You will understand, when you are wed that the relationship between husband and wife is unlike anything in the world," he said. "You will love, weep and quarrel. But no one should ever come between the two of you. That is the golden rule, my son. For as long as you live, do not ever let a third party ruin your relationship that you have with your wife. The world will watch you destroy the very thing you love most, and then it will seek something else to entertain it. And you will be left alone and with many regrets."
It was more than enough to send him groveling to his betrothed, but he did not find her. He sought her in her most favorite places to hide and contemplate on her own but it was futile. Until now.
He stepped out of his tree's outspread branches that hovered over him protectively but did not completely leave its safety. He was still largely in the shadows. She twirled twice on light feet before bowing to an unseen dance partner, her back towards him. She rose up to her full height. He stopped her with a brief touch on her shoulders. She gasped and turned around. Her hair fluttered against his cheeks like a soft touch of feathers. But it did not hurt him.
"My lord Prince," she said formally, dipping into a low curtsy. His forehead creased lightly at that. When had she last called him by his title than by his name? He expected the answer was never. But then, he deserved the hint of rebuke he heard in her voice.
"I have come to ask for your forgiveness." He said quietly. It was difficult to speak coherently. It was easy to apologize but difficult depending on whom he was apologizing to. His betrothed raised one eyebrow at him and she seemed surprise.
"My lord Prince has nothing to apologize for." She began but Thranduil finally stopped her.
"Arodien, enough with the formalities," he interrupted. He took her hand, gently, so that she may withdraw if she wanted. But Arodien did not shy away. He led her to a fallen log and sat down on its moss-covered surface and spread his cloak outwards. He gestured her to sit on his cloak beside him, so that her dress would not be ruined. Arodien surprised him with a small smile and complied. When she was seated, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, strengthen his heart and coat his dry mouth with moisture.
"I am not perfect," he began. "You know this. Others will offer you far less trouble and spare you the grief my company might offer you. I have no guarantee of the future and I do not wish for you to enter this marriage without any knowledge of what you are getting into."
"My lady," Thranduil continued, troubled. "There is little I can offer you apart from the weight of duty. I am no Silva. I have little patience, a lot of stubbornness and a quick temper. My recent past was not kind to me and I will ask your forgiveness beforehand if it tears us apart from time to time. But I am not an animal, or a fell creature. And yet, as you can see, there will both times where we will be content and at peace and then there will be a time when we will have some argument and heat."
"I love you dearly and you know this. Love is not everything in a marriage, and I know this as well. It consists of other things, like understanding and respect. Respect I shall give but understanding takes years to form. If you will have me, then I would like to learn how to be understanding." He made the mistake of looking up as he spoke and he saw, to his dismay, Arodien was struggling not to laugh.
With one hand delicately hiding her smile, her trembling shoulders gave her away. Thranduil stared at her, appalled, and then looked away when he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He did not realize he made a fool of himself. He braved on, stammering.
"I only thought it would be best if we entered this marriage knowing fully well what we are getting ourselves into." He was certainly getting second thoughts after witnessing his betrothed's deranged laughter.
Arodien tore her hand away and laughed incredulously at that.
"You are not a romantic, Thranduil. Let us be honest about that."
He frowned.
"I suppose I am not."
When did he last notice an Elleth for courtship? He could not remember. In fact, he doubted if he ever saw anyone in that light. Instead, he remembered countless nights on the cold grassy ground during his patrols, or the warm guardhouse where he dined with fellow soldiers and sung many jolly songs. But no Elleth. He never courted before. He had no idea what to do. She patted her cheek and she forced him to look at her.
"My dear, if I knew you were perfect, you would appeal to me far less." Arodien told him, still smiling. "You are adorable, and you have a tender soul beyond this ridiculous facade of seriousness!" His smile began to grow until it matched hers. "You are fine just as you are. The fact that you mean to try and better yourself means more to me than you can imagine."
"I still need to learn how to be romantic," Thranduil admitted.
"Do not worry," she assured him quickly. Thranduil relaxed a bit. Arodien drew near and he saw she was smiling mischievously. "I shall teach you." She said in a low voice. Thranduil nodded numbly, unable to say a word.
Arodien held his eyes for a moment longer than necessary and he found he could not break away from her blue eyes. Then she laughed and sprang to her feet. She tugged on both of his hands, urging him to join her.
"Come! Dance with me!"
Thranduil dug in his heels and shook his head in alarm.
"Arodien-"
"Frightened?" She asked him, eyes glittering. "Come, I shall teach you."
He was unwilling at first, so he stumbled on the first few steps. After a while, it helped when she laughed away his mistakes and patiently waited for him to be at ease.
He finally gave in to the laughter bubbling in his chest and turned her around. Her skirts rustled against his legs as she twirled, clutching on to his hand. She stopped and faced him, her free hand resting on his shoulder while the other remained in his grasp. She seemed to have forgotten their quarrel. It was better that way. There were more to come.
"Not ever again," he told her, meaning the dance. Arodien smiled and shook her head, breathless.
"Until the wedding," she answered. Thranduil grinned.
"Until the wedding," he relented.
~S~
Author's Note:
In my stories within the Green Leaves Universe, Thranduil is always portrayed as someone who does not like dancing. It slowly became iconic when numerous readers began to notice that characteristic in him.
Also, others noted that he and Arodien are very rarely featured in my stories. I decided to write about them together. :)
And yes, I have the least bit of romantic bone in my body. If you are here to read bodice-ripping, steamy and what-not, then this will be an unlikely place to find some. My idea of romance is rather different, because I feel that whatever goes on between husband and wife must remain between husband and wife, and their romance and love can be seen in simple gestures rather than what goes on under bedcovers and on marriage beds.
-I accidentally posted the wrong fic with the right title. Do not worry. It has been righted. Thanks to nyx thranduilion and earthdragon for pointing out the mistake!