A/N: Wow you guys! The review response to the last chapter was so great that I got all excited, so here's chapter 4!
The Princess of Greenwood
Life settled into a comfortable routine for Hermione for the next few months. She woke up in the morning and was bathed and dressed by Maeves. Then she was taken to the private dining room in the royal wing for breakfast with Thranduil and Legolas. After that, Maeves took her back to the nursery to play with a small chest of toys. She had two realistically carved wooden horses with real horse hair for their manes and tails, a soft doll made to look like an elleth that had three different dresses, a much worn toy bow and sword, and a hand painted picture book that was the only book she was allowed to touch without adult supervision.
While at first she'd doubted she'd ever want to play, she'd underestimated her own childishness. The horses really were quite fun, especially when one pretended they were animagi. The book was by far her favorite, however, as it showed landscapes from around Middle Earth, and Maeves would answer questions about the pictures if she wasn't busy sewing new clothes for Hermione.
Following playtime, Hermione would beg to go to the library and be told no, as it was snack time and then her outdoor play time. While less fond of her toy bow and sword, she gamely took them with her to the royal gardens. Sometimes passing guards would play with her if she had the toys. And it was just logical to make sure her new body was in the best possible shape, wasn't it?
Of course it was.
There was a rose bush in the royal garden that Hermione particularly liked. It always had interesting things to say, being smarter than most plants Hermione conversed with. She wasn't sure why, but she was glad of it, especially as the rose bush kept tabs on Hermione's willow tree for her.
After outside play time, Hermione would wash up and go have lunch with Legolas and Thranduil, though sometimes one or the other of them would have to work or train and not make it in time. She threw a fit the first time that happened, despite herself. But though the elves were very indulgent with her, it was explained that being royal was a very big responsibility and she couldn't have a tantrum every time she didn't get her way, and she would see her betrothed and her Ada at dinner, wouldn't she? After her initial outburst was over, Hermione was grateful that she wasn't going to be completely spoiled. She'd hate to turn out to be like Draco Malfoy, of all people.
After lunch was her favorite time of the day. Maeves took her to the library and gave her lessons in reading and writing. She was supposedly a bit young for it, but she'd begged and pleaded until Thranduil caved and ordered she be taught, likely thinking that she'd get bored and give up quickly.
Well, the joke was on him.
Once she finished her lesson for the day, she could pick any book she wanted, within reason, and Maeves (or sometimes Legolas, if he wasn't busy) would read it to her. Then it was dinner time, and then bed. Thranduil always came to tuck her in, and Hermione was completely in love with him in the way that children love their parents, while at the same time being very aware of his faults due to her adult level of intelligence.
It was a strange feeling.
Things weren't all smooth sailing, of course. Hermione had several more total meltdowns, where Maeves had to send someone for either Thranduil or Legolas, or else dash through the halls with a wailing Hermione in her arms, for only the king or prince could calm Hermione in such a state. They would ask questions, and she, still under the Unspeakable Geas, would frustratedly tell them that she was 'remembering before I came out of the tree,' further reinforcing the idea that she'd literally been birthed by the willow tree.
Elves could be more idiotic than wizards at times.
Just when she'd started to really settle into her new life, guests started arriving for the ball Thranduil was holding in Hermione's honor.
-l-
The first to arrive was the ruling family of Imladris, along with their escort. Hermione had the feeling that Thranduil and Lord Elrond were friendly rivals as well as allies, and Thranduil was going to rub being 'given' an elfling supposedly destined for his son in Elrond's face. Thranduil could be very petty at times, which, while an unattractive trait in a king, was not the worst thing he could be. He was very proud, and that pride often led to pettiness, but he was also fierce in protection of his people and love of his family, so it evened out.
The royal family of Greenwood met their guests in the throne room, Thranduil seated on his throne on the high dais that let him look down at whoever stood before him. Hermione was perched in his lap, with Legolas standing at his father's left side. Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian came forward and made their greetings first, followed by their three children: Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen. The two ellyn were twins, and carried an air of mischief about them that immediately put Hermione in mind of Fred and George Weasley. Arwen looked to be around the same age as Legolas, sporting that slightly unfinished presence that said she wasn't quite all grown up.
The entire family was dark haired, save for Celebrian, who was a blonde. Elrond's features were not quite as elegant as those of most elves, though he was still gorgeous by any human standard. But then he was Half Elven, according to Thranduil. Otherwise, the family were your typical elves.
Arwen was very pretty though. Very, very pretty.
Hermione held her arms out to Legolas in a silent demand that he pick her up. When he did, Hermione sent a smug look at Arwen, which for some reason everyone found funny.
Hermione pouted.
-l-
Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien were the next to arrive. Their introduction in the throne room did not go well at all, for the instant Galadriel's eyes met Hermione's, Hermione fell into a dead faint, slumping back against Thranduil.
-l-
She woke to a complete and utter mess. Maeves wouldn't stop fussing, and left it to Tauriel to explain that in the immediate aftermath of Hermione's 'fit' (apparently she didn't just gracefully keel over like fainting princesses were supposed to, but thrashed around a bit), Thranduil had ordered the Greenwood Guard to seize Galadriel and put her in the dungeon for attacking the Princess of Greenwood. Celeborn had naturally objected to this, and the only thing that stopped Greenwood's guards from brawling with Lothlorien's wardens in the hallways was Galadriel volunteering to go to the dungeon willingly. Now Hermione was ensconced in her nursery with Tauriel guarding her on the inside and Legolas standing in the hall outside the door. Thranduil was interrogating Galadriel while Celeborn threatened war for the way they were being treated, and all throughout this explanation Maeves was clucking that Tauriel should stop telling Hermione things that she shouldn't be worrying about, the 'poor little dove.'
Hermione took a deep breath and counted to ten, her mind working overtime as she considered what to do. She had to be in control in this moment. She couldn't let childish impulses rule her if she was going to make everything alright again.
"Maeves, dress me in my feast clothes, please. And get my crown."
"There won't be a feast tonight, little dove. Why don't you rest? Do you want any of your toys, or your picture book?"
Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. "Tauriel, please get Legolas."
Tauriel got Legolas.
"How are you feeling?" Legolas asked, coming forward to rest his hand against Hermione's cheek. "I was worried for you."
Hermione raised her small hands cover his and rubbed her cheek against his palm. "I'm fine now, but things will not stay fine unless you take me to see Ada. Tell Maeves to put me in my good clothes and my crown."
Legolas considered her for a long moment, and Hermione looked straight back at him, her heart thundering in her chest. This moment was the first in which she really needed him to trust in her, and she couldn't help but feel it would set the tone for the rest of their lives.
Believe me, believe me. Be there for me, she silently begged, unwilling to do it aloud.
After what seemed like a hundred years, Legolas turned to Maeves and said, "You heard your princess."
Maeves' mouth fell open, but while she could ignore an order from the toddler princess, disobeying the almost-of-age crown prince was an entirely different thing.
She efficiently put Hermione into a frilly blue dress, brushed her hair, and placed her crown on her head, then called Legolas back into the room. (Toddler or not, it was inappropriate for Legolas to be in the room while his betrothed was undressed.)
Hermione held her arms up to Legolas and he picked her up. With Tauriel and a contingent of guards flanking them they made their way to the dungeon, where raised voices could be heard.
The dungeons were truly a dark and desperate place. Or at least the cells were. There was something eerily beautiful about the labyrinthine levels and stairways with their spatterings of whatever light could find its way there, but the cells were damp and moldy and infested with vermin and absolutely dreary. Hermione vowed that when she had enough sway in the kingdom she would introduce humane standards to their penal system. This wasn't quite as bad as Azkaban, but it was up there.
Thranduil was pacing in front of the cell that held Galadriel, something lethal in his eyes. His crown of branches gave him the appearance of antlers, making him seem like a stag preparing to charge. In that moment he reminded Hermione of the hippogriffs she'd seen in her old world: beautiful, yet liable to attack if offended.
Celeborn stood next to the tiny cell that didn't even afford Galadriel room enough to sit down, his hand gripping his wife's through the bars of the door. Now that Hermione was able to look at them for more than a few seconds, she could see that Galadriel was uncommonly beautiful even amongst elves, a goddess among angels. Celeborn had a stronger presence than most, but otherwise was gorgeous in the usual elven way. Both had golden hair like their daughter, Celebrian.
"Adar, stop this," Hermione called out to the pacing Elvenking.
Thranduil spun on his heel to catch sight of them, his eyes going wide in surprise, and then wider in fury. He moved to intercept them. "Legolas, I told you to guard her! Get her away from here!"
"Ada, no!" Hermione protested. "I asked Legolas to bring me. You have to know. Lady Galadriel didn't hurt me on purpose. Our magic just doesn't like each other."
Thranduil paused in his stride. Now that he was closer, Hermione could see that he was actually trembling with rage. She held out her arms to him, hoping that if he held her it would force him to calm down.
He looked for a moment like he might refuse, likely because he recognized that he wasn't in control of himself. But Hermione made her eyes big and soulful and full of a childish trust and the potential to be hurt if he turned her away, and at last Thranduil took her from Legolas, pulling her tight against his chest and breathing in the scent of her hair.
"It was an accident, Ada. Not an attack," she soothed. "The Lady tried to look in my mind, and my magic wouldn't let her. And then I fainted. But now I'm fine."
The Unspeakable Geas wouldn't let her reveal that it knocked her out to protect her from having her mind read, but saying 'magic' was vague enough to pass muster and get her point across.
"You see, Thranduil," Celeborn said. "It is all a misunderstanding."
Thranduil's spine stiffened and Hermione nearly groaned. Celeborn just couldn't keep his mouth shut…
"And why," Thranduil asked in a soft, deadly voice, "was your wife attempting to read Hermione's thoughts? Was that also a misunderstanding?"
The Elvenking turned back toward his prisoner, but Hermione couldn't see anything. Thranduil pushed her face down against his shoulder, one hand curled protectively over the back of her head. "In Lothlorien your subjects may have no objection to you sliding in and out of their thoughts like a thief in the night, but you are not in Lothlorien. This is Greenwood, and here I am king, and I say no subject of mine, from the highest royal to the lowest squire, shall have to worry about the sanctity of their mind!"
Hermione grinned against Thranduil's shoulder, her heart swelling. Certainly, she knew that at least some of his concern was that Galadriel would ferret out state secrets, but a great deal of his reaction was born of a true desire to protect his people. In this moment he was a great king. He was the Elvenking.
She squeezed her arms around his neck in a hug and kissed the bottom of his chin, the only part of his face she could reach. He gave her a little squeeze in return, but did not break eye contact with his captive.
"I only wished to be sure the child was truly happy here," came Galadriel's mellifluous voice, pierced with a dart of sorrow. "That is all I meant to do."
Oh hell no.
"You dare!" Thranduil spat, his top lip curling with renewed outrage.
Hermione cut him off.
"I love you, Ada," she said in her most determined voice. Then she pushed at his arms until she could crane her head around to look at Galadriel and Celeborn. "I love my Adar. I love Legolas. I love Greenwood." Then, childishly, because she could not help herself, she finished, "I was happy until you got here."
Galadriel gave a wistful little smile and bowed her head. "And for that I am truly sorry, Princess Hermione."
Before anyone else could open their mouth and ruin everything again, Hermione said, "I forgive you. Ada says that being royal is about doing what's best for Greenwood and everyone who lives here, even if you don't like it. So I forgive you, even though I don't like that you made my Ada so sad."
And now Galadriel's lips twitched, just a little, and Hermione knew that they were on the same page, mind reading or no mind reading. "Indeed, your highness is most gracious. And your Adar most wise. You will be a fine Elvenqueen in the fullness of time."
Hermione looked up at Thranduil. "You can let her out now, Ada. It's okay."
-l-
There was a feast that evening after all, and Hermione got jam everywhere because she deserved it.
.
The Unspeakable Geas: A lot of you asked questions about this, so I thought I'd address it here. No, Hermione can't get the elves to help her break it. She'd have to be able to tell them about it first, which she can't do. And it protects all ways she might communicate things covered by the geas, so no she can't write it down, show them memories, draw a picture, and so on and so forth. The geas wouldn't be worth much if all someone who wanted information from an Unspeakable had to do was give them a piece of paper or perform legilimency. The geas isn't designed to be broken.
That is the in universe answer. The out of universe answer, is that it is a construct that lets me prevent Hermione from spilling her history. I don't think she'd keep it from Legolas on her own, not with the soulbond prompting her to want to tell him everything, so the Unspeakable Geas was born to keep her mouth shut. I want the elves to deal with her like she's similar to Glorfindel, and if she told them her history it would change how they view her.
