To Sow a Barren Land
Disclaimer: Let's be realistic for a second. Had I owned 'The Hobbit', Tauriel would definitely be a character in the books, Kíli would definitely fall in love with Legolas (who would also be in the books but not quite as his dad is the star), Thorin and Thranduil would totally have some hot chemistry going and Thranduil would be having his little Dwelf daughter or son!
AN: Fast forwarding here a bit. ^^; Definitely some progress between Thranduil and Rainion and I'll be working with their developing bond from this point. Also, err...more mashing up of events. And chaos.
Chapter 2
For days, they would play this delicate game. One would seek a chance to be looked at and the other would do anything in his power to look away. If Thranduil extended his arm, Rainion would draw back his own. If Thranduil tried hard to meet gazes, Rainion would look at anywhere but at the blond. If Thranduil's face twisted in sadness, Rainion's face would remain stoic. If Thrnaduil sought closure, Rainion would provide the most formal kind.
Rainion realized, their balance was on a precarious level dangling at the edge of a sword. If Thranduil slipped, he would fall. If Rainion slipped, he would never rise again.
He would not see the shy glances directed at him whenever he was busy pouring tea. He would ignore the bright blue pair of orbs shining expectantly at him, awaiting his response and the same blue eyes drooping when none would come. His ears would not register the soft voice calling out to him vulnerably and his heart would not burn and soothe at the same time when the same gentle voice would spread a cooling balm on his wounds.
As the pregnancy progressed, Thranduil's need to reach out increased as well. But each time he would do so, each time he would be leaving hanging on one end as Rainion curled further and further away.
It must've been painful for Thranduil, Rainion thought. He understood that what he was doing was unfair and that one day he'd have to answer to his ancestors about the way he treated someone who asked for his help. However, whenever he'd look at the sorrowful blue eyes, his mind would reel back to those days when the same orbs held nothing but lust and a distant gaze, lips moving and whispering the name of some other, the warm side of his bed and the way to the exit where porcelain long limbs would trudge quietly, leaving Rainion to be on his own.
It was then that his heart would tug with a feeling of simmering anger. He would cast aside the slight pull in his chest whenever that innocent face looked at him. He would hide away his feelings and he would shield himself away from the other's sorcery.
Still...
The trembling voice would quietly call for him. Shimmering eyes would be hopeful for forgiveness. Gentle hands would clasp around his own and would stop him from leaving Thranduil's side.
And Rainion would slip.
Thranduil shivered slightly, leaning against his balcony chair. His afternoon tea was long forgotten on the table in front of him. One hand was absently stroking his growing belly and the other was cradling it with a limpness which was only due to a strange lethargy. His eyes were glazed and blank, staring out into the distance, taking in the beauty he had been long devoid of.
A soft glow of orange was splashed across the sky, adorned by saffron clouds interlocking with each other in front of the setting sun. Streams of orange filtered through the clouds and as they fell upon the leaves and trees, they bordered them with a golden hue, evaporating gently into warm shades of red and brown.
As the sun rays became dimmer with the growing season, the forests too took on a darker contrast. It was the strangest of things. Thranduil hadn't been outside ever since his pregnancy began to show but he had seen many winters to notice the sudden tinge of darkness.
His thoughts soon changed course as memories of fresh air and star studded skied filled his mind. Oh how he wished to go outside! How he wished for a friend...
"Winter approaches," he said calmly, turning his head towards his right and frowning slightly when he was met with a light nod from the other before the Silvan turned his attention elsewhere.
"Are the pantries stocked?" Thranduil asked again and looked up at his caretaker eagerly, lowering his gaze a little when Rainion stared back at him with a forced distance and formality.
"They are well stocked, Your Highness," came the other's curt response before he busied himself with placing biscuits on the barely empty plate.
Thranduil nodded and kept looking in the other's direction. He was still hopeful that Rainion would indulge in his attempts to make conversation and in turn would actually allow himself to be something more than just a guardian. But his hopes were diminished when Rainion didn't so much as spare another glance at him.
Thranduil's face felt and there had been a tightness in his heart as he unwillingly turned and faced the patch of woods as seen from the balcony.
His eyes started stinging and he bit his lips, trying to contain the heaving in his breath as a powerful wave of poignancy rolled over him.
He missed the little glance Rainion provided him wearily before resuming his work.
"Will you never forgive me?" A rasped voice cut through the uncomfortable silence, drenching it with grief which was not effortlessly concealed as Thranduil's tone cracked at the end.
He faced the other as silent pleads fell from his eyes. He gasped with a shudder and gritted his teeth when finally Rainion loaned him his focus.
Warm brown eyes were still cold and were harshly spewing criticisms against the Sinda male but they suddenly softened as Rainion's throat made a gulping action and he opened his mouth, trying to form words.
"It is not my place to forgive you for something you have the right to do. My prince," responded the other in a chuffed manner, hidden much by his formal training and sheer will to keep that formality in place.
But Thranduil saw through.
"By that, you simply mean I control you and therefore have freedom of doing anything I want, regardless of it being fair or unfair," Thranduil frowned and contradicted gently, a little appalled by the level of courtesy the other held for him. Or rather, that which he had to hold for him.
He noticed the small twitch on Rainion's face and decided to prod a little further, "By that, you mean I do whatever I want without any regard for others around me."
At that, Rainion's face flickered flashes of hurt before settling back to its original coldness and Thranduil found his eyes growing with pure shock. He gasped and frowned disdainfully, self-loathe overtaking him as a hiss came out of his lips, "If you mean it, why can't you say so upfront?"
In response, the other's brows furrowed in complaint and he parted his mouth to say something before he closed it and directed an almost neutral gaze which simply made Thranduil fume.
"Will you never talk?" A snarl covered his mouth and as he spoke, his eyes flared with rage born out of frustration, "Am I so unworthy to even yell at?"
He rose from his chair abruptly. The action made him to lose his balance a little and he caught sight of Rainion quickly rising from his own chair and darting across him to render his support but Thranduil raised his hand, making him to stop midway and look completely bewildered.
"You won't even look at me. I understand that. Whatever I did was horrible. And not a day goes by that I don't hate myself for it," Thranduil said in a tone which reflected the anger he mentioned, mingled with shame and disappointment. "You won't yell at me, you won't accuse me, you will do nothing!" His gaze hardened all of a sudden and he narrowed his eyes, wanting to pierce through the other's head, "Why will you do nothing? Why will you keep your calm and act as if you are unbothered? Tell me, why do you not want to save me from my disgrace?"
He paused and kept on staring wildly at the other. His breaths were swollen and his chest was puffing up and down so much that it disturbed the tranquillity of the whole ambience.
Rainion was staring back with wide eyes. His jaws were parted and he was completely overtaken by surprise and shock and the suddenness of Thranduil's outburst did nothing to help him with words.
At last, Thranduil gave up. He groaned and walked over to the railing. He placed his arms across it and supported himself, all the while keeping his head low so that he could contain any more outbursts which threatened to make their way. Hs fists turned white from gripping the railing too hard and his back started undulating up and down as his breaths became harder and harder.
Suddenly, he raised his head a little when he thought he had heard the quietest of all sound. Ever so hesitantly, he loosened his grip on the railings and half-turned towards the Silvan's direction.
It was his turn to be shell-shocked when his ears caught the sound again.
Rainion was speaking in the faintest of tones.
"What did you say?" he asked, once more hope shimmering in his eyes which only increased as Rainion answered him yet again.
"I hated you. I wanted you to suffer," The Silvan looked apologetic immediately and tore his gaze away. But after a moment, when he again raised them, Thranduil's heart felt warm all of a sudden and the expectation he had in him grew even more as Rainion went on.
"But that is not why I avoid you," his tone was cold. In spite of that, Thranduil felt a tightness spreading all across his chest as he detected the uncancellable hurt reflected off from the other's voice.
"Then why do you do so?"
And within that tension, a warm fire was slowly building inside his hearth. Thranduil didn't know why but he felt relieved that he was acknowledged. That he was spoken to. That the only person—who was helping him so much—wasn't ignoring him anymore.
"Because," Rainion paused and took a deep breath. Maybe it was the hue of the sky or maybe it was he whose face was glowing red. Nevertheless, his voice was breathless and he lowered his eyes awkwardly before they were brought up with an honesty which gripped Thranduil's entire attention.
"Because if I let myself to love you again and if I get hurt once more, I will surely die."
With that, he looked away once more and scrunched up his face, as if he was mentally rebuking himself.
As for Thranduil, his jaws were on the verge of touching the floor and his mind felt light all of a sudden as thoughts rushed in and rammed against each other. His face and nape burned with a stinging sensation and his cheeks felt so much heat that they matched the shade of vibrant red seen upon autumn leaves. His lips wagged and his words snuck back inside his throat. His mind went entirely blank as bewilderment and stun stirred inside his heart.
Rainion now fully faced Thranduil. He was hesitant still, yet there was a streak of confidence and ample of genuineness coming off from his eyes.
"But my own self betrays me." He spoke quietly and Thranduil never before felt a flutter in his chest amidst all the surprise and confusion he was feeling at the moment. "I can never bring myself to stop loving you. Even if I don't receive your love in return."
For a great while, Thranduil was unable to say anything. His eyes were broadened and his cheeks were glowing crimson.
He was confused and shameful and guilty of toying with the other elf's feelings. Yet, he wanted him nearby. He wanted Rainion's notice. He wanted the elf's forgiveness and he wanted him as a company. And even if he didn't admit it to himself, there was always a part of him which screamed at the top of its lungs— he wanted Rainion as a friend.
His brain was muddled and his heart was beating loudly as a result of such rush of new emotions. But beyond such chaos, the fire that was smouldering inside his heath brunt brighter and brighter and as its flames touched Thranduil's core, he felt a warm sensation radiating throughout his body and somehow, it didn't feel wrong. It didn't speak of danger.
If anything, it brought a quiet little smile on his lips.
The court was humming with shrill whispers as the dwarven advisors argued amongst themselves. Each of their faces had been strewn with panic and not a single dwarf stood in composure as they began feeling the heat of the growing threat.
"Silence!"
Suddenly, the whole court lulled into quietness as the voice of their king boomed within the vast hall.
"How far has the feud proceeded over the weeks?" Thrór asked in a steel cold tone. Even if he was not showing it, his insides were becoming frigid with fear as the battle of the races became stronger.
"It has taken a worse turn, Your Majesty." One of the advisors spoke, his eyes laced with unspoken terror. "The Noldors united with the Doriath elves and have rode through every village of the Blue Mountains. It will be a matter of time when they reach us. Though, their search has grown slower with time."
The dwarf wasn't done. He went on and as he did, Thrór only prayed to the Almighty for the chaos that had reigned was something beyond the king's wildest nightmares.
"It is not a matter of rights anymore. It is a matter of kin. They will not rest till they destroy the offenders. We can only hope for their trail to grow cold."
"Has the Woodelves taken part yet?" Asked one concerned voice.
"No. Their king follows an isolationist doctrine," Thrór provided thoughtfully, his heart leaping uneasily as he remembered the might of Oropher and how easily he could turn against them. He only hoped for the Woodland king to maintain his doctrine.
"But Your Majesty," His attention was caught again by the other dwarf and just by the way he hesitated, Thrór knew that they were already in the deepest of pits.
"That is not all. A dark power is felt all around. The Istaris feel it and they speak of an ominous foe that grows stronger day by day. Rumour has it that..."
He paused and he seemed absolutely frightened.
Thrór felt his mouth growing dry and a cold chill was taking hold of his chest. He nodded, indicating the other to go on, which he did after swallowing thickly, "Rumour has it, apart from the great rings forged, there is another ring which holds immense power. Whoever it is, wields it and it grows in its hunger for evil as days pass."
Thrór stayed quiet for a long time. He felt all eyes staring at him with immense expectation. They believed their king to protect them and to provide solutions to their entire problem. However, this time, Thrór saw no way out.
He knew that the relation between elves and dwarves would never be the same. He understood that the elves were the least of his problem at the moment...but it was also true that to fight against the dark powers, he would require every dwarf to stand together. And though it was possible in light of this racial feud, Thrór realized very well that Erebor would be all alone if the others caught the air of them arranging the whole charade. And the necklace would catch wind soon enough.
"Then we hide the jewellery and we wait," he ordered grimly. "The elves' energy has definitely lessened from the start. With time, they will grow tired and will give up their search. They will not forget. But they will grow cold as the necklace becomes no more than a lore. Also, they have more things to worry about. Like the growing darkness. If we have felt it, they must have as well. Because of that, the elves will soon prioritize over their protection than of some necklace. The dark powers are the main matter of concern."
Things were escalating quickly out of hands. He had lost a valuable and powerful ally. He would not be above suspicion from the other race and if their secret got out, their own kin would retract their helping hands. This time, Thrór was extremely worried. He was afraid.
AN: Just one question—is it getting a bit complicated, you think? O.o