A/N: I'm expanding this piece as part of National Novel Writing Month, which means that hopefully it will be novel length by the end of November. The goal is to write 1700 words per day and I'll try to post as I write. Wish me luck!

Summary: Thranduil and Brinya talk in the garden.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Chapter 3: The Secret Garden

Brinya was absent mindedly tapping the table with her fork. A sharp look from Anoria let her know that this was very annoying. Suppressing a grin that she had actually managed to get under her normally saintly sister's skin, she put down the fork. She wasn't really hungry anyway. Eating Eldar food reminded her a little of drowning. It was quite pleasant once you stopped struggling to taste anything. If living forever meant eating food like this she thought she might not mind getting old and dying. The wine was another matter. It was delicious. For the most part, the elves were a restrained people. They only allowed themselves to overindulge at particular celebrations like the feast of starlight. Sadly, they had missed this year's festivities on that occasion, and Brinya prayed that they would be home in Balinor well before the next year's took place.

She had already drunk a bit more than was wise when she felt the king's eyes on her. She had felt him staring at her during her training and she wondered what he wanted. In her experience, when a man far above her station stared at her, he usually wanted something she wasn't prepared to give. She hoped that if she ignored him, he would go away. Shortly after dinner she saw him making his way toward her table. So much for hope.

He bowed gracefully before them, "Your highness," he addressed Princess Anoria, "I wonder if I might beg your indulgence."

A blush crept into her pale cheeks, "King Thranduil, I am happy to assist you in any way I can."

"May I borrow one of your lovely ladies? I have a special project that I think requires a young woman's touch."

"Of course. Any of my ladies would welcome an opportunity to be useful to you. It is the least we can do. Is it something I can help with?" She blushed a little at her own temerity. She would not normally offer to assist an eligible man so readily, but King Thranduil hardly counted as eligible in the usual sense. Although he was technically free to marry by human standards, it was said that elves rarely remarried and she only had to look at him to realize that there was no possibility of a courtship. He was perfection made flesh. His tall sturdy frame, his piercing eyes, his unearthly pale skin had all remained unchanged for millennia. He certainly hadn't come here to pay court to a minor princess like her. She couldn't say why, but something told her that he felt human women were beneath him. He had treated their little party with all the cold cordiality diplomacy demanded since their arrival, but she knew he disdained them. She suspected that if he ever thought about women, he must only think of his own kind. She would have been right, if he hadn't caught sight of Brinya.

"You are very gracious, but I would not wish to take up your valuable time with such a trivial matter. Perhaps Lady Brinya could assist me?" He had tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but he wondered if his eagerness betrayed him. He had been out of practice at his game for so long. How did one attract a woman's attention without also attracting the attention of everyone else? He privately mused at his unease. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt uncomfortable or uneasy. This girl was already bringing up more emotions that he had felt in centuries.

"Of course," replied the princess, too surprised to refuse. No one particularly requested Brinya for anything and technically she wasn't a lady.

"You have my deepest gratitude," he said to Anoria and bowed again. Then he turned to Brinya, "If you would accompany me?"

She nodded once and followed him silently, carrying the voluminous folds of her skirt in her sweaty hands. She didn't like this. What task could he possibly have that would make him ask for her assistance specifically? If anyone else had heard his request, what would they think?

The palace at Mirkwood was large and they walked a good distance in total silence. At last they came to a large courtyard mostly overgrown with weeds. The king gestured for her to follow him inside. Curiously, Brinya entered, picking her way over the roots of giant trees that appeared to have grown unchecked for many years.

"What is this place?" she asked finally.

"It is a bridal garden. There is a custom among my people that when a man declares his intentions to a woman, he takes her to a garden that has become overgrown. If she is amenable, then the two of them get to know each other for the length of time that it takes for the garden to grow into full bloom. Only then does she give him her answer."

Brinya's head was spinning. There was no way this was happening. It wasn't possible. At first she had thought he was looking for a gardener. She'd thought this was an out of the way place and probably none of the elves were interested in fixing it up. She'd never done any gardening before, but she would have been willing to give it a shot. Nothing could have prepared her for this. A bridal garden? King Thranduil, the most ancient, powerful, wealthy, and universally sexiest being alive, was asking her if she wanted to plant some flowers with him as an act of courtship. This was too weird.

Brinya wouldn't say she was accustomed to unkindness. Her family had raised her overwhelmingly with love and support, but as she'd grown older she had to contend with a certain degree of mistrust for other people. People outside of her immediate family and friends tended to see her as a means to an end. They tended to think that because she was of no birth and no fortune she could be used and discarded. She knew her father had tried to keep the worst of the disreputable proposals from reaching her ears, but she heard about them through the grapevine of palace gossip. Sometimes she was the last to know, but she always found out eventually. The worst one had come from a duke who offered marriage to his feeble minded son, but clearly intended her for his own use. The worst part was the sneering way he had insinuated that she should be grateful for the offer, and Brinya had realized with sickening clarity that he wasn't completely wrong. Someone of her standing couldn't really expect anything better.

She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She was waiting for him to admit that he already had a wife and this was the kind of offer he would only make to a woman who was so far beneath him that she wouldn't dare refuse. That was what she was used to. It was what she was expecting, but it didn't come.

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, "This is all wrong," she sputtered. "This must be a mistake. I am not a proper choice for a man of your standing." She surprised herself with her words. She never really believed that she deserved the hand that fate had dealt her, but here she was turning away her only chance at a better life because she thought she belonged where she was. For years, she had born the shame and ignominy of her birth with her head held high. For as long as she could remember, she had told herself that her actions counted for more than her pedigree. She was worth something. She was a good person. She deserved to be happy. She had done nothing to be ashamed of and she refused to be ashamed of being alive. She was glad she had been born, no matter what those circumstances were. In a just world, no one could possibly think less of her because of who her mother was. But the world was not just and she was judged everywhere she looked. Until this moment, she had never truly believed that she was less than other people, but now she wasn't so sure. Now here she was being courted by the most perfect suitor she could ever imagine and she was prepared to refuse him before he even began. She couldn't bring him shame by connecting her name with his. She wasn't nearly beautiful enough or clever enough or royal enough to do him justice. His reputation would never recover.

Seeing the tears in her eyes, Thranduil cupped her chin in his hand and held her in his unearthly blue eyes. There was a strange intimacy in the gesture that made her shudder, like he somehow knew her already. "Do you think I would make such an offer to someone who I believed could offer me nothing in return?" he asked.

She knitted her brow in confusion, "I do not know, my lord. I only know that you made the offer to me and that I have nothing, not even a name, of my own."

Thranduil smirked, a little condescendingly, "I have earned many names over many lifetimes. I believe I have enough for us both. You have your beauty and you bear a striking resemblance to the princess. That must be a currency of some value where you come from."

Brinya blushed, "It is the worst kept secret in the kingdom, my lord. Everyone knows my birth, but they are too afraid to speak of it."

"What are they afraid of?"

"Of my stepmother, the queen. I guess you could say she adopted me. She thinks of me as a daughter and she would let lose a murderous rage on anyone who suggested otherwise."

"I imagine she saw your true value and wished to claim you as her own. Do not assume that your gifts are worth so little. Everyone you meet sees your beauty and knows your kindness. I see your passion and it makes me want to feel again. It has been so long since I have felt anything close to human emotion. Once I felt things as men do. Elves are not gods. We desire and love and grieve. I have lived so long and I have loved and lost so much. My heart turned to ice a long time ago. Now I strive to melt that ice by standing close to you. I see the fury with which you make war against this life and I want to remember what that feels like. Do not rebuke me out of some misguided notion of sparing me pain. You spare me nothing. I feel nothing. No fruit tempts me. No wine offers me pleasure. No woman makes me feel desire, except you. Do you imagine that I require my wife to have fortune, a title, a name? What family or kingdom on middle earth could offer these things to me? There is not a treasury anywhere that could rival my white gems or a family anywhere whose name is as ancient and respected as mine. I am king here for eternity. I am the closest thing to a god your people will ever encounter. Yet I seek a comfort only you can provide. Only you can free me from this prison of apathy. I have become indifferent to this life. Challenge me. Force me to feel or I will fade away to nothing. All I ask is for you to consider my offer. Help me in the garden. Give me time to win your affections. When the garden is in full bloom, tell me if your feelings have bloomed as well. I will not hold you to any promises until then."

Speechless, Brinya turned to go. She wanted to get away from this place and from him as fast as her feet would carry her, but he caught by the arm.

"Do not imagine that my love comes without a price," he warned. "A thousand years ago I was a force to be reckoned with. My wrath was legendary and my goodwill sustained whole settlements for generations. If you accept it, my love will be jealous and consuming. I do not need a mouse. I need a woman with enough fire to burn the humanity back into me or I will freeze us both to death. Think about my offer. If you accept, come again to the garden. The way will be open to you and I will know if you return."