I had my first full meal in days. Complete with fresh fruits and vegetables, meat and cheese, and seven some wine. After eating like a starved traveler, I went to my room and fell swiftly into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I awoke, I had no idea of the time or even what day it was. I yawned and stretched. After I got up, I realized I had slept for some time. It was early afternoon. I definitely felt well rested.
I washed up and dressed. I had not changed my clothes in days either and I could not deny how good it felt to have a new dress on. I chose one of black, grey, and green. The green, I noted, was close to the color of the king's eyes.
My hair took a long time to brush out completely. The golden waves were tightly tangled. When I had finally got my hair smooth, I braided pieces above my ears and back around my crown. I added a simple plain silver headpiece. I believed that one's appearance had a lot to do with how they felt at times, at least it helped, and after days of not taking care of myself, I felt the need to make up for that.
The infirmary was quiet when I arrived. A few other war patients were in the main room. I gave each a small smile and asked how they were feeling. The replies were all pleasing.
When I entered the king's private room, I smelt fresh soap and warm soup. Harn was sitting in the chair that had been mine for days. He looked up when I walked near and placed a single finger to his lips.
"He's sleeping?" I confirmed. "How has he been?"
Standing, Harn said, "He is gaining strength. This is one of few times he has actually slept fully. I have tried to get him to eat. He is not very interested in food."
"Because he lacks appetite or is he merely being stubborn?"
Harn's eyes widened. No one spoke of the king being stubborn. "Well I brought him some bread and water earlier and soup not too long ago. He only picked at the bread. When I gave him the soup he said he was tired and then he did fall asleep."
"Very well." I nodded. "I think it would not hurt to get him up and moving. Movement increases blood flow and will help with the healing. Perhaps after that he will have more of an appetite."
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine now. Rested and fed. I will stay with the king. You are free to go now."
He gave me a polite nod and then left the room. Once again I was alone with the king.
It was not long that I was sitting in what felt like my place, at the king's side, before his eyes fluttered open. I let him get his bearings for a moment.
"You've returned," he stated before I could speak.
"Yes, I've eaten and slept."
"And did your hair."
My hand flew to brush lose strands away from my face. "That is not important. Harn said you refused to eat."
He straightened himself and lifted his shoulders. I noticed that he had been dressed in a loose white shirt. "I was not hungry."
"You must eat in order to get your strength back." I picked up the bowl of broth and stirred it with the spoon. "It's chicken broth, that's all."
"I know what it is." He glared at the bowl coldly as if it contained the beating heart of an enemy. "I do hope you are not planning on spoon feeding me like a child."
"If you do not act like a child, I will not have to do so." I handed him the bowl.
The look he gave me was none to kind, his eyes narrowed and his jaw was hard, but he took the bowl from my hands and slowly spooned the liquid into his mouth. His hands shook slightly, but the more he ate, the steadier they became. When he had consumed nearly half of the bowl's contents, he handed it back to me.
"Was that really that horrible?" I couldn't resist.
"Are you always this annoyingly cheeky?"
"Only when I must be." I set the bowl down and stood. "Come now, I want you up and walking."
He raised a single brow, his left one. I wondered if it was a talent he had always possessed and how much he would have missed that ability had he lost the eye, including the brow. "Why?" The word rolled slowly off his tongue, slow and sticky like syrup.
"It helps the healing process and it's what I want. As we discussed previously, my domain."
"Your domain is part of my kingdom."
"My lord, your life is in my hands. Would you like to continue questioning me?"
He snorted and smiled, large enough to show off his white teeth. "One day someone will not take too kindly to the way you speak to them."
I only crossed my arms.
But he did as I requested. The blankets were thrown off his body and he slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He wore grey tights and nothing on his feet. They reached and touched the stone floor.
"Slowly." Then I added, "Please."
"I have been walking for much longer than you've been alive," he smirked.
"You are that old? That is not what I was referring to. You are still weak."
"From what you've told me, I believe that I am about twice your age." He moved to stand and I rushed to his side as his legs straightened, his knees locking beneath him. I realize then how tall he actually was. I had always thought him to be of a great height, but having only seen him at distance, or quickly, with the position of power he held, I had merely assumed it was my mind lengthening his spine. Now that we stood side by side, I felt almost dwarfed. He was an entire head taller.
"You have been king for a great while now." A thought crossed my mind. He had been ruling a very long time with no queen by his side. I wondered if that was why he was so bitter, or if was the other way around. "You had no visitors," I pressed. Perhaps he had a lady waiting that we citizens of Mirkwood did not have knowledge of at the moment.
He looked down at me. We were standing so close, he was peering directly down. I felt warm breath on my face. "Who," his tone was icy, "would have come to see me?" He placed his right foot before himself and shifted his weight.
"Oh, I don't know. Friends?" I matched his step. "A lady maybe?" I resisted the urge to elbow his ribs.
He moved his left foot, right again. "You think I have a lady?"
"I would not have asked if I knew."
"Why are you interested in knowing?"
"I am curious to know what sort of woman would be able to stand being in your presence, not to mention enjoy it."
"If you must know," he continued slowly across the floor, "the most time I have ever spent with a woman, with her and her alone, was the time we were with me here. If you would like to count that, being unconscious as I was for most of that time."
"Oh. I did not mean to…"
"To what?"
"Pry, I suppose. Unearth any unpleasant feelings."
"There are no unpleasant feelings. I am not interested in that sort of thing right now. My efforts are elsewhere." As he finished his words, he took another step, but it was wobbly, not as graceful as he had moved until that point. His knees buckled.
My arm flew out before him, slapping against his chest and gripping his upper arm. He had reached out and wrapped his fingers tightly around my other forearm.
His eyes turned glassy then and stared straight ahead, completely blank. I tried to pull him up, make him straight again, but I was small and not very strong. He was tall, and muscular, too heavy for me to hold.
"My lord, please, we must get back to the bed." My own knees began to shake and bend. "I cannot carry you."
The words were lost on deaf ears. He continued to fall in my arms.
I could no longer hold him up. We tumbled to the ground in a nimble heap. I adjusted myself and took his head against me, holding him carefully against my ribcage.
"Can you hear me?" I slapped my hand to his right cheek. "My lord, please." The left side of his face wavered and started a pale pink. "My lord! Thranduil!"
His eyes opened slowly, lazily. He blinked a few times, the haziness in them slowly left, and then gazed up at me. His eyes made their way back down, taking in his head against my chest, his shoulders in my lap.
I said, "I think that was a bit too much for your first day on your feet."
He sighed. "This is not what I wanted." His muscles tensed and he started to push himself up from the ground.
"Be careful." I helped him, allowing him to lean on me the entire up as we worked our way to standing together.
"I am fine." He pulled away from my grasp but I moved to him again and reached for his arm. He batted my hand down.
"You mustn't rush things," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "I know you do not want this, but I cannot allow you to strain yourself. You must go back to bed."
He no longer fought. Instead he slowly, clumsily, walked to the bed, reaching out for it as if he was in the desert for days and it was water. He sat down and placed his head in hands. I would have rather been given a snarky remark than have this.
"I am king," he muttered into his hands. He pulled his face away.
My hand flew to my mouth when I saw that the burn had returned. His right eye was slightly red, the left a black pit once more. His muscles in his face flinched uncomfortably. The pain was being felt.
"I should be out, fighting for my people, protecting them, leading them. Not here in this wretched place, falling to the floor."
Without giving myself time to consider it, I sat down next to him. "This place is not wretched. It's my home. Where I belong. I know you do not and that is why I am doing what I can to get you out of here."
Silence.
I went on. "It is frustrating, I know. But you cannot expect, after what you endured, to be able to go out and fight once again and run about the forest. It is just not possible."
"I should not have endured what I did." He looked straight ahead, his expression hard, his hands tight in his lap. "It was mine own stupidity that cause this mess in the first place." He reached his left arm out, burnt and sore, and slammed the table. The bowl of soup, disturbed, jumped from the table and hit the floor. The broth spilt in a small pool.
"You have made quite the mess while you've been here."
The look I received was meant to do harm.
I cracked my fingers. "Listen, my lord. Thranduil. I do not know what happened. My knowledge of battle fields and hunting and killing is incredibly limited. I could not even fire an arrow. Well, I have never tried. But I know that being here is difficult. I have seen others tortured by this. Some come here in better mental shape than they leave with. But trust me, please. You will get out and you will be strong again. Really, what is mere days to your long life?" I tried to make eye contact again. "We can try again tomorrow, and the day after that. I shall not give up, so long as you do not."
He finally looked my way. His eye locked on mine. "No one has ever promised me anything like that and kept it." His voice shook but it was barely above a whisper.
I stood and held the blankets up so he could arrange himself under them. He laid down and let me cover him. "I will not go back on my word."
His eyes closed slowly. He placed a hand over the blanket on his chest. His fingers bent and straightened like a spider's legs. I slipped mine beneath them and held there tightly. Only for a moment. Once he fell asleep, I took my hand away, but sat next to him and prepared myself for more long days.