TA 2773

Ava didn't know whether to thank her father or yell at him for what he had done. In a way she had been relieved that he had interrupted whatever it was the King had been about to say. Did she want to hear such words from him? Were those the words he had been about to speak to her? Ava wondered if he would have declared how he longed never for her to leave his side again. Was that what he had wanted to say? She was annoyed for her father for interrupting, but if Thranduil had spoken such words, then she was relieved Elrond had come for her.

She did not know how she would have reacted to him. What would she have said? Would she have agreed with him? Would she have brushed him to one side and told him not to be so foolish? She doubted the latter, but she was unsure. She was not ready to discuss such matters with Thranduil. She barely knew anything about him. He barely knew her. How could he have been about to make such a bold statement? Of course, he might not have been about to say that. He might have told her that he never wished to see her again.

Somehow she doubted that.

Groaning, she remained sat up in her bed, pulling the covers tightly to her chin as she looked around the chamber. Usually she shared such a room with her sister when visiting foreign realms, but she had been given a chamber to herself this time. It was not vast, but it was not small. A large bed sat against the wall whilst a dresser and wardrobe sat on the concrete floor by a wooden tub for bathing. The walls were wooden, no doubt made by the greatest and strongest trees. Mirkwood was different: Ava would say that. The staircases which led to every location were grand and twisting. The smell of wood was everywhere she went, but the cold concrete floor seemed cold in contrast to the wood's warmth.

Ava couldn't sleep. She soon stood and changed from her nightgown and into her plain red gown for the day. She pushed her slippers onto her feet and tucked her hair behind her ears before leaving her chamber. The walkways were quiet as the day slowly dawned over the great woodland realm. Soon enough Ava found herself stood by a large platform where a tall throne sat on top of wooden stairs. Gaping, she realised that she must have come across Thranduil's throne room.

"Even his throne is pompous," Ava whispered at the sight of it and moved to stand beneath it.

It was high in the air: there was no doubt about it. She wouldn't put it past Thranduil to want to sit so high and look down at those he considered beneath him. But one thing struck Ava as odd: there was no chair for his Queen. She knew that Thranduil had been married before, but there was no reminder of such a fact. Her father had yet to remove her mother's chair from his chamber. He had not the heart to remove her from his life.

But there was nothing to show that there had once been a Queen. Did she have a throne beside her husband? Did Thranduil prefer to keep her away from his affairs?

It only made Ava the more curious about the Elf-king.

...

Many of the elves struggled to break their fast the following morning. No doubt they were exhausted by the previous night's events. Ava had been sat in the small hall, chewing delicately on some meats she had rested on a roll of bread. She ate it slowly, wondering if her father and sister would soon join her. It turned out that Elrond would, yet Arwen was still rather tired from the previous night.

"You left the feast early, my daughter," Elrond spoke to Ava once they had greeted each other and he had taken a seat beside her. "I trust that you are well."

"I am fine, Ada," she promised him with a rueful smile. "I was tired."

"I see," Elrond said, pouring a cup of water. "And your premature departure had nothing to do with the discussion I interrupted between you and King-"

"-No," Ava quickly stopped him from speaking his name. "I told you before that the King and I were discussing unimportant matters. You interrupted nothing between us. Why would you think that you had?"

Elrond knew that finding the truth from his daughter would be impossible. She was guarding herself very tightly around the matter of King Thranduil. Elrond observed as she refused to meet his stare and chose to busy herself with chewing on her bread. She was silent; her gaze sat on the plate underneath her stare on the table. She evidentially refused to speak with him of the matter.

"Because of the way he was looking at you," Elrond finally whispered. "I saw his hand on your arm, Ava. Do not think me blind."

Ava startled at her father's honest words and inwardly cursed herself before she bit down on her cheek to stop herself from speaking her thoughts. She doubted her father would take too kindly to them. Why would he? Ava did not know her own thoughts.

"I would be a fool to think you blind," Ava whispered and began to stand from her chair. "I simply do not like to be interrogated when I do not know the answers myself."

"Ava," Elrond sighed his daughter's name as she quickly left the hall and he watched her go, knowing that chasing after her would be futile. She needed time alone. She would come back to him. He knew it. She had to: she was his daughter.

It did not take long for Ava to find herself outside of the palace gates. The guards standing by the entranceway paid her no heed as she wandered across the bridge and towards the forest. The sun was now firmly set in the sky and shining through the gaps in the trees. Wandering over the bridge, she soon came to a pathway and followed it slowly through the trees. She continued to look around Mirkwood, in awe of the sights she saw as she went. The trees were majestic and there were some exquisite flowers growing on the ground.

But there seemed to be some form of underlying darkness about the realm. A darkness which she doubted anyone spoke of. It wasn't until she ventured down another pathway did she notice a small wooden bench in the midst of a garden of rare blue flowers. She moved down the grassed path and took a seat on the bench, moving to fold her arms over her legs and rest her head on her kneecap. Her skirts fell down the bench as she remained curled in a ball, her eyes staring at nothing but the blue flowers before her.

She didn't know how long she had been seated before she saw him again. Was he following her? Was he determined to make her feel uneasy at every given turn? She cursed the sight of him as he moved into the clearing, his eyes still set on her as he went.

"Why are you outside of the gates?"

"I needed space," she whispered to him honestly. "I stumbled upon this clearing. The flowers are truly lovely."

Thranduil almost winced at hearing her words before he dropped his hands to his side and moved closer towards where she sat. He perched on the opposite end of the bench, sitting straight and lacing his fingers in his lap as he stared to the flowers before him. He was amazed that she was here. Why was she here? Did she know that he ventured into these gardens every morning since he had last seen her three years ago? But how could she know? She would have no idea. He almost wondered if this was some form of joke, or a cruel fate.

"Yes, this was my wife's garden," he informed Ava.

It was Ava's turn to seem startled at his words. She rested her cheek on her kneecaps so she could turn her gaze towards Thranduil. He seemed more interested in staring at the blue flowers before him than acknowledging her hesitant stare.

"She used to come here every day and plant the flowers. She never truly liked being confined inside of the palace. She preferred to be outdoors. It was something I never truly understood," Thranduil admitted, his gaze becoming more scrutinising as he tilted his head and stared to the flowers.

"She had fine taste in flowers," was all that Ava could speak to him.

"So it would seem," Thranduil whispered. "I kept the garden in pristine condition for her after her death."

Ava's mouth gaped and then closed, her stare moving from him. What could she say to him about that? Was there anything she could say? She had no idea, nor did she dare ask him. Narrowing her own eyes, she did her best not to take note of how Thranduil looked back to her.

"Tell me, Lady Ava, I saw you visit your mother's statue. How did your father feel when he lost her?"

The personal question caused her breathing to falter and her eyes to close. Thranduil could still see the pain in her features. He could still see how the hurt was raw, even after all this time.

"Devastated," Ava spoke the truth. "He was not himself for years. He spent time sitting in his study, looking at the chair she used to sit in when he asked for her counsel. He would not converse, nor would he travel. He...he was strong for me and Arwen when we went to see him, but a piece of him had gone when she left. He still misses her."

Thranduil looked away from the elleth and back to the flowers. "How can you know if a piece of you is missing?"

"It is easy," Ava responded. "Ada loved mother more than anything. She is still in his thoughts, but that is what love truly is, is it not? It is when you would do anything for the person you are with. You would do anything to keep them by your side and safe, but you also know that you have to do the best by them. Letting mother go was difficult, but Ada knew that it was for the best. It would bring her peace, but it hurt him too."

Thranduil took her words in, allowing them to sink into his mind. She spoke of love as though she had experienced it. She spoke as though she was some form of expert. Even Thranduil truly did not know what love was. Even after all this time he did not know if he had loved his wife like he should have. He did not know if what he felt for her had been admiration or love. If love was what Ava had described then he knew the answer to his query.

"Why is it you ask?" Ava wondered from him.

"I was merely curious as to what you thought," Thranduil lied to her.

"You must miss your wife terribly," Ava dared to state and Thranduil winced.

He didn't. He didn't miss his wife. The day of her death had brought him nothing but sorrow. He had been saddened by the news. He had held Legolas to him and promised the little elf that his mother had loved him terribly. Legolas had wept for days and nights, but Thranduil had shed no tears. He had cared for her, but he did not feel as though a part of him had been ripped from his body. He still felt whole. He still felt complete. It was horrid of him, and he knew that. He was a cold man, but he had been kind to his wife. He had cared for her and seen that her every need had been met, but not once before had she elicited any other emotion from him. She had never made him shout. She had never made him angry. There had been an amicable relationship, but nothing else.

"Time heals wounds," Thranduil told Ava.

"Does it?" Ava whispered.

"Yes," Thranduil told her. "You will know in time, Lady Ava."

"Perhaps," Ava merely managed to agree with him. "I should return back to my father. I am certain that he will be worried about where I have gotten to. I would hate to cause him anymore worry."

"Why is it you came here, Lady Ava?" Thranduil suddenly asked her before she could move from the bench. "Why was it that you stopped here of all places?"

Ava stood slowly and straightened her skirts around her legs. "I saw the flowers and I could not help but admire them. I never meant to disturb the garden if it feels sacred to you...if you feel as though it is only the thing left of your wife."

"I had the gardeners take care of the garden ever since her death," Thranduil told her, making a move to stand and stop her from leaving. "But ever since I met you I have visited these gardens every morning for three years. I come here because I hope to find the answer to all of these questions I have in my mind: questions I cannot seem to understand."

"That is understandable," Ava spoke to him. "Ada often goes to mother when he feels-"

"-Questions about you," Thranduil interrupted before she could compare his situation to anyone else's situation. "Questions about why I cannot go a day without thinking about you. Elves know when they find the one they are to be with, do they not? I come here and question what I ever felt about my wife, and the more I question then the more certain I am that I did not love her. I admired her. I cared for her, but I did not love her. It is almost as if I come here and seek acceptance from her...acceptance that what we had was not true."

Ava shook her head, refusing to listen to his words. She tried to move around him, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Stop it," she demanded from him. "You do not know why you are saying these things. You are confused...your wife...you said it yourself; we marry for love and nothing else. You would not have married her if you did not love her. Stop talking like this."

"No," Thranduil hissed, leaning down to look Ava in the eye, his neck protruding from his neck as his hand slipped down to her wrist to pull her closer to him. "Do you have any idea what I have gone through? Do you know how pathetic I feel for thinking such things? I am a King. I have other problems to worry over, but instead I find myself thinking of you."

Ava felt his grip slacken on her and she recoiled from his hold, his hand leaving her gown covered arm as she ran a hand up and down the arm he had held. She could still feel the warmth from his touch as she looked away from him, gulping. Did she admit the same thing to him? Could she admit it to him?

"You are not the only one," Ava spoke in a whisper and Thranduil's ears pricked upwards. "But I do not know why I feel that way. Everything about you angers me. Everything you do makes my blood boil and I cannot explain why."

"And I feel the same way," Thranduil promised her.

"But that is nothing," Ava quickly spoke. "That means nothing. You have to see that. My father never became angry with my mother...anger is not...it is not..."

She could manage the final word. She could not say love. How ridiculous was this? How had she found herself in such a situation as this? She felt nothing but detest for the Elf-king. She hated how he spoke to her. She hated how he dismissed her so easily. She barely knew him, but what she knew was not what she wanted in her life.

"But I have never known anyone speak to me as you do," he informed her.

"Then I am a rarity," Ava said, "but that does not mean anything. We do not know each other, not truly. Nothing can be built on the basis of annoyance."

"Then let me know you," Thranduil asked of her and Ava wondered just how many more surprises he could throw at her this morning.

What was he asking of her? He wanted to spend more time around her? He wanted to know things no one knew of her? She guarded herself. She had kept her emotions sealed because it was the best thing for her to do. She did not want to be hurt. She had seen her father suffer. She had suffered when she lost her mother. The thought of losing anyone the way she had seen her father lose her mother scared her. And that was simply it: she was scared.

"No," she whispered to him. "You do not mean it. I do not mean it...what you speak of...it is not something I wish for...knowing you...I...what if you despise me? Or what if I despise you? And we live leagues apart."

"Stay in Mirkwood," the King said, although it sounded more like a demand than a question to her. "Reside in Mirkwood and I shall be able to speak with you properly. What is it that scares you, Ava?"

He could see that she was worried. He could sense the hesitance in her words and it shone through even more in her actions. She was stiff and her eyes were anywhere but looking at Thranduil.

"Everything," Ava told him honestly. "I cannot do this right now. I need time. What you ask is not a simple request. Surely you have to see that."

"Then time is what you shall have," Thranduil said to her. "Do not think that I enjoy feeling this way. Believe me, I do not. The constant unease has done nothing to settle my mind, and the constant wonder I feel places doubt in my thoughts. Before I met you I never had such emotions."

"Likewise," Ava told him.

"I do not know whether it is a good or a bad thing to feel so insecure," Thranduil said. "Perhaps time shall answer my questions."

"Perhaps," was all Ava could say before she found herself rushing from the garden and leaving Thranduil alone once more.

She placed a hand over her chest, the feeling of her beating heart pulsing onto her flesh. Had that conversation taken place? Had he just admitted that he did not love his wife? Ava could scarcely believe it. She had always thought that the King was nothing but a cold hearted elf. She hated to admit that she had seen another side to him just now; a side which exuberated weakness and worry. Was there something more beneath his hard exterior? It would seem so. Ava only worried what would become of her for seeing it.

...

A/N: I am, once again, blown away by the people following and favouriting and reviewing. I didn't think that many people would like this, to be honest. So thank you to Guest, james90, glittergirl, DD, KatieGG, XxAlexMarihaReyesxX, Oriana5, SweetAssassin, xxxRena, Ladah and ZabuzasGirl for reviewing the previous chapter. I wanted to bring a new dimension to Thranduil in this chapter, something other than showing how callous and brash he can be (although that side will be back!). Do let me know what you think!