Sudden Departure
Ellyria spun the two practice swords in slow arcs at her sides, reacquainting herself with the feel and weight of the faux weapons.
"I've missed this," she said quietly, looking at Felinor with his own wooden swords.
"Half speed only, Ellyria. Just to warm up," suggested Felinor, sweeping the sword in his right hand around in an arc.
She nodded and approached him, one sword at level with her chest, the other still lowered at her side.
Ellyria and Felinor went through all the forms for two handed sword fighting easily.
"Again," requested Ellyria, bringing her sword up.
They went through the forms several more times.
"How are you feeling?" asked Felinor when they had finished.
Ellyria smiled widely.
"Again, full speed."
Felinor barely brought his sword up in time to block her thrust but he adjusted quickly. His movements mirrored the counterpoints of hers, his sword waiting to meet hers.
"I am not tired yet. Spar?" asked Ellyria hopefully, though she could tell the swords were feeling heavier in her hands than they had a moment ago.
"Call it when you are through," agreed Felinor bringing his own sword up this time but she answered it easily.
She fought back in earnest, searching for an opening. He caught her once on the hip and she cracked hers on his thigh before he was able knock one sword completely from her hand.
Ellyria stopped and stared at her hand as though it had betrayed her, but only for a second before she tried to keep attacking with her remaining sword. She was able to keep up for another minute before Felinor was able to swipe that sword from her hand as well.
"Enough," she panted, bending down and resting her hands on her legs for support while she caught her breath.
"Come, sit down," urged Felinor, taking her by the arm and leading her to a nearby bench.
"This is disgraceful," she breathed, wiping her hands on her leggings and flexing her fingers.
"You are still too hard on yourself, Ellyria," Felinor said trying to placate her.
"The wound is gone and with it much of the poison," countered Ellyria.
"But not all. It has only been a little over a month, Ellyria. You are most impatient, for an elf," chided Felinor gently.
"You would be too were you in my place Felinor. I remember what you were like when took that spear to the leg last century," retorted Ellyria.
Felinor smiled in chagrin.
"I had hoped you would have forgotten that by now," he said glancing at her.
"What you are saying to me now is very similar to what I tried to say to you then. We shall have to find better ways to encourage one another when one of us is wounded," Ellyria said with a fond smile.
"Or we could just stop getting wounded," quipped Felinor.
Ellyria laughed.
"Well that is the ideal situation, yes. Come, one more round and then I will rest for the day," she said rising and picking up her practice swords.
Their second session was longer than the first but it ended much the same way with Felinor disarming her.
"I concede," she breathed, collapsing onto the bench.
"A wise choice, my lady," said Felinor with a smile coming to sit beside her. "Get your breath and I will see you back to your room."
True to her word, Ellyria slept until it was time for dinner.
She and Lord Thranduil dined in a new chamber so close to the glade that grass and other plants crept into the far edge of the room. Several elves played music in an adjoining room so as not to be intrusive. The food continued to be excellent and the conversation entertaining; until Ellyria asked after the prince.
A shadow crossed briefly over the King's face and he took a sip of wine before speaking.
"Legolas seldom eats with me. He prefers the company of his captains so you need not worry that you are keeping me from him," replied the father quietly.
Ellyria frowned but felt that any further questions would not be welcome and changed the subject.
Afterwards, he took her to a far corner of his realm where the mountain split apart and revealed a window into the outside world. It was just dusk but still light enough for Ellyria to see the Lonely Mountain looming darkly in the distance.
"Have you ever seen the dragon that has taken up residence there?" asked Ellyria quietly, remembering the tales from when she was younger.
"No, it has not stirred from the mountain for many years now," replied Thranduil, staring at it.
"Perhaps it has died," she suggested though not really believing it.
"If it feeds well, such a beast can live on for hundreds of years without needing to feast again," Thranduil informed her.
"Does it make you uneasy knowing that such a creature is so close to your realm?" asked Ellyria, wrapping her arms around herself.
"It is well content with the horde in Erebor; there is nothing to compare here. And I have faced several serpents before," replied the King, pushing back memories he did not want to see.
Ellyria looked at him but said nothing.
"I would be glad of its demise; it is preventing me from entering the mountain," muttered Thranduil, gripping the stone rail on the balcony.
"Why should you wish to?" Ellyria asked.
"There is a necklace in that mountain I want retrieved."
The possessive, dangerous quality of his tone made the hair on the back of her neck rise.
She stole a glance at him; his straight posture, squared shoulders and the fixed way he stared at the mountain. It was not hard to imagine him standing on this balcony for a century, doing nothing but stare at the mountain and the beast within that was thwarting his will.
"Dragons do not live forever. In time, you will get it back," said Ellyria gently, turning away from the opening.
Thranduil made a noncommittal noise in his throat and turned to her.
"Come, sparring today must have taken much effort," said Thranduil leading her away from the opening and back toward her room.
"It was embarrassingly brief and yes I am tired from it still," she admitted, as they walked along the raised path back through his realm.
"Thank you again, my lord for a pleasant evening," Ellyria said, when they reached her door.
"The pleasure is mine."
She watched the King go before stepping into her room for the night.
The next evening, Melia came for her earlier than usual and took her to another new location for dinner. The elf led her into a long room lit by three large chandeliers of candles. Their table was at one end of the room and the two longer parallel walls were made of archways that led to other rooms. She got the impression that this room was usually used for dining but for a much larger group. The King was speaking with Feren when she and Melia entered but the other elf bowed and left shortly after their arrival.
"More sparring today?" asked Thranduil as he led her to her seat.
"No I thought I should rest today and went for a swim instead. I must thank you for letting me use it. We don't have anything like it in Eastwood," said Ellyria, sitting down.
"I am pleased you like it."
She took care not to speak of Legolas, the Lonely Mountain or dangers in the outer world that might draw him back into the brooding elf he had been yesterday. Ellyria finally discovered a cheese she did not like and had to force herself to swallow instead of spitting it out.
"Not to your liking?" asked Thranduil, watching her with a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Ellyria swallowed with a grimace and then took a large gulp of wine before wiping her mouth and replying, "No, what was that?"
"A goat cheese from the Andaman Hills. It is cured for nearly a month before it's made available for consumption," explained Thranduil, stilling smiling.
"It's horrible," she whispered.
Thranduil laughed and her heart leapt.
"Yes it is but there are some who like it," agreed the King, taking another sip of wine.
"Trolls?" suggested Ellyria, wiping her mouth again and taking a large bite of bread.
The Elvenking chuckled and resumed eating.
When they had nearly finished, Ellyria sat back in her chair and let out a contented sigh. The elven musicians on the other side of the arches began to play an old song, one from before Ellyria's time though she knew it well. Her eyes lit up in recognition and she turned her head to face it's source.
"You know this song?" asked Lord Thranduil, surprised.
"Yes, my father told me once it was my mother's favorite. She liked the story of Linhe and Grende of how he traveled to her realm every day with a rose to win her heart. It explains the why most of the dance is linear in motion," said Ellyria, putting down her cup.
Before the King could speak, she asked, "Do you know it, my lord?"
"The story or the dance?"
"The dance."
Thranduil set his cup down.
"It has been at least an age since I have danced any song, let alone this one."
"I'm sure your feet will remember it even if you do not," said Ellyria with a smile.
Thranduil looked at her curiously and she ignored the voice in her head urging her not to do this.
"Will you dance with me?" she asked, hoping she was not overstepping some hidden boundary.
His curiosity turned to genuine surprise.
"No one has ever asked me to dance before," he confessed, an odd sensation going through him.
"Well tonight I am. Will you," she prompted again gently, knowing that the first steps began soon.
He hesitated for the space of a breath and then rose to his feet.
"I do not like to deny my guests anything," he acquiesced, holding out his hand for hers.
Ellyria stood as well and took his hand, walking with him to the center of the rectangular space.
The beat of the music changed and Ellyria and Lord Thranduil bowed to each other. Much of first part of the song required that they walk in a circle around each other but maintain eye contact while doing so. He moved gracefully, as she had seen him do while fighting. At a cue from the music, they changed directions so that he followed her in the circle.
There was a long note and they stopped to face each other and bowed again.
Then livelier strains took over and while Thranduil remained motionless, she swept away from him. Her arms waved slowly as she spun to the music, a warm smile fixed on her face as her hair and dress flowed around her. She turned and danced her way back to where he was standing, watching her intently, his expression unreadable.
She drew close to him and paused so that he could reach out and rest his hand on her hip. He walked forward as she walked back and then they changed direction. He dropped his hand from her hip and raised the other above his head but kept it low enough that she could rest her palm on his as he moved forward again. Though he seemed engaged in the dance, she sensed that he was going through the motions without any real enjoyment in it.
Ellyria was grateful for the song dictating that she turn her back to him. She stretched out her right arm and looked to the right as the King moved behind her and stretched his arm out as well mirroring hers. As she moved forward with him following so closely behind she could hear his measured breathing, she worried for a moment that this was not a good idea. That perhaps this was dragging up a painful memory for him of the last time he had danced with his unmentioned wife.
He could have refused me, she thought to herself, turning back to face him. There was no pain in his eyes but no pleasure either. Nevertheless, she kept her smile on and moved with the enjoyment she always felt while dancing. Even if the King did not prefer to dance, he was good at it; his hand always waiting for hers when she reached out and though he moved close to her, he never stepped on her dress or the back of her boots.
When the song was nearing its end and the strains of the music climbed into a higher register, Thranduil spun her away from him and then reversed her back to him but drew her closer than he needed to. Her breath caught at his nearness, his blue grey eyes studying hers intensely. His hand on her lower back kept her near him, his other clasping hers gently as they danced in a wide circle.
She wanted to say something to him but all the words she could think of stuck in her throat as he looked down at her. Finally, the music died away and they stood back from one another, bowing respectfully as the song came to an end.
"Thank you for indulging me," she said, smiling warmly at him.
The King was about to speak when a quiet but authoritative voice from behind him interrupted.
"Forgive the intrusion, my lord, Lady Ellyria," said Feren, bowing his head, "but there is a disturbance in the forest that requires your attention."
Feren did not look up when he finished speaking.
Thranduil turned to listen as he spoke.
"I will be with you in a moment, Feren," dismissed Lord Thranduil, nodding to his captain.
Ellyria frowned in concern as Feren nodded and turned on his heel toward the far doorway.
The King turned back to Lady Ellyria and inclined his head to her.
"I am glad that you asked. You know your way back?" asked Thranduil, his tone gentler than the one he had used with Feren a moment ago.
"Yes I know how to get back to my chamber. Please don't let me keep you," she offered, nodding to him.
Without another word, he turned and strode purposefully away from her. Ellyria stood still, thinking on the past few minutes and then gave herself a mental shake. This was not the place. She put her chin up and smiled, then turned and walked to the archways that the music had been coming from. She stepped through them to see three elves cleaning their instruments. They all stopped when they saw her and the one who had been sitting rose to his feet.
"Thank you. Your music was beautifully played," she said sincerely, smiling at all of them.
They all inclined their heads to her.
"We are pleased to hear it, my lady. Thank you," said the one female elf, her thick brown hair falling over one side of her face.
She nodded and then strode out of the hall and headed quickly back to her room to be alone with her thoughts.
Once inside, she rested her head against the door and took slow breaths. Ellyria closed her eyes to calm herself but she kept seeing the King's face and the intensity of his gaze.
"I should not have asked him to dance with me," she murmured to herself, going to her bed and taking off her boots.
She moved to her table with a nearby mirror and undid the braids in her long hair. She brushed it out and changed out of her dress and into a soft sleeping gown. The ghostly memory of his hand on her hip and back still lingered as she got into bed and blew out the lantern on her bedside table. Ellyria put her hands under the covers and held them against her heart that had slowed little since the end of the dance despite her efforts to reduce its thunder.
"This foolishness must end. There is no future here," she said to the night and closed her eyes in search of rest.
Lady Ellyria found herself in the King's balcony room, looking at the pool of stars. Lord Thranduil sat beside her; neither spoke.
After a few moments in companionable silence, she rose to leave and he followed suit. But when she reached out to thread her hand through the opening to pull the white door toward her, the King caught her hand in his, staying it. Ellyria had reached out with her right and turned to face him in surprise. Thranduil kept hold of it and took a small step toward her so that she was obliged to take one backwards. He gained more ground until her back pressed up against the door. As he had moved, he kept his eyes locked on hers as though searching for something in their depths. When she could no longer back away, he took one last step to her, his eyes falling to her lips. She was dimly aware of her difficulty drawing breath, her pounding heart and the flush to her cheeks. Though he overshadowed her completely, she did not feel threatened or cornered.
She tried to speak his name but her tongue would not obey. He still held her hand, gently enough that she could have pulled free easily if she wished but she did not move. He drew closer, inclining his head to meet hers.
"Ellyria."
She felt a gentle puff of warm air as he breathed her name against her lips. Her eyes slid closed of their own volition and she tilted her head up to meet his.
Ellyria snapped awaked with a gasp and bolted up in bed, trying to catch her breath. She looked wildly around her dimly lit room, certain that she was not alone. She wiped her hand roughly over her mouth and got up to wash her face. As she toweled off, she glanced out the opening in her room, still unsettled. All was quiet in the Elvenking's halls and dawn's first light was just beginning to filter into the cave. She peered over the edge of the towel while looking out, as though she had done something embarrassing and did not wish to be seen. Her cheeks were still warm to the touch.
Though the dream unnerved her, she sensed that something else was amiss but could not place her finger on it. She went back to bed and lay awake until late into the morning.
"My lady, are you unwell?" asked Pela as she came into her room.
"No I am not ill, Pela. Please don't worry," she said, rising and dressing.
"Would it be very rude of me to ask for solitude today? I spent a troubling night and wish to clear my head," asked Ellyria as Pela tied the last of her ribbons closed at the back of her dress.
"Not at all. I can give you something to help you sleep tonight if you feel you will need it," offered the healer, looking at her with concern.
"Thank you. I think I will," decided Ellyria, hoping whatever she was given would prevent her from dreaming again.
Pela nodded and left Ellyria alone with her churning thoughts.
She had barely walked several yards away from her chamber before a guard came rushing up to her.
"Lady Ellyria, there is a messenger for you. Please come with me to the King's throne," bid the tall, dark haired elf dressed in armor.
"Certainly. A messenger from Eastwood?" she asked, hurrying beside him.
"Yes, he arrived only a quarter of an hour ago."
"What has happened?" she asked, fear grabbing hold of her.
"He would not say, my lady," replied the guard ushering her to the raised platform that held the King's antlered throne.
Six guards were ranged along the edge of the space and Lord Thranduil was speaking in low tones to an Eastwood guard in the center of the platform.
"Lady Ellyria, my lord," announced the guard, allowing her to pass him.
Her heart skittered in her chest as she looked at the King so she turned all her attention to the silver armored guard before him. The guard turned when she was announced.
"Ardreth, what is it?" she asked, coming up to him and bowing to the King.
"There was an orc raid early this morning, my lady. Lord Morgaine suffered an injury. He asks that you return," recounted the guard.
An icy fist clenched her heart.
That was why she had snapped awake, not the dream. Someone she loved had been threatened.
She forced herself to speak,"yes, I will return home now."
In her periphery, she saw the King's expression change from concern to a frown.
He bowed to her and turned back to the King.
"My Lord Thranduil," he said bowing, "Thank you for your time."
The King inclined his head to the elf and the guard took his leave.
Ellyria turned to watch him walk away and then went up to the King.
"I must go. Thank you for your hospitality and kindness," she heard herself say and began to turn away.
"No," spoke Lord Thranduil, clasping her arm to prevent her from leaving.
She stopped and looked back at him in surprise.
"An orc pack was sighted in my woods last night. I have closed my roads until I know it is safe. Your messenger came here under escort," he explained, not letting go of her arm.
"You can open one road so that I can get to my father," protested Ellyria, searching his face for sympathy and finding none.
When he did not speak at once, she looked down at his hand on her arm and then back at him. There was nothing cruel in his gaze, only fear and concern.
"Or am I your prisoner?" she asked softly.
At the word 'prisoner,' Thranduil's expression changed and he reluctantly let her go.
"No, you are not," he relented but studied her anxiously as though he would never see her again.
"Gather your things and change into your armor. Someone will come for you and Captain Felinor. I will open the East road and make it safe," vowed the King, inclining his head to her.
Ellyria breathed an inward sigh of relief and could only nod and thank him before taking to her heels and flying back to her chamber. She hastily changed out of her dress and pulled on leggings and a shirt. Ellyria had finished putting on her boots and was slipping on her breastplate when there was a knock on her door.
"Come!" she called anxiously.
Felinor in full armor burst into the room.
"I came as soon as I heard," he began, striding over to her and helping her clasp the plate closed.
"What have I been doing here? If something happens to him, I will never forgive myself for lingering away from home when there was no cause to," Ellyria fretted, trying to pull on a bracer.
"Ellyria. It will be well. Stay calm," counseled her friend, pushing the bracer over her wrist and snipping it shut.
Ellyria nodded and kept her lips tightly closed as he helped her with her other bracer. She picked up her helmet and started for the door.
"What of your things?" he asked behind her.
"Leave them, they are not important!"
She pulled open her door and stepped outside, Felinor close on her heels.
"My lady, Captain Felinor, this way," called one of the King's guards, motioning for them to follow him.
"Have the others left already?" asked Ellyria as they walked.
"All the other guards from Eastwood returned a two weeks ago," said Felinor quietly.
Ellyria nodded and kept walking, a thousand grim thoughts crowding into her mind, jostling for her attention.
Their journey through the King's halls seemed to stretch on until finally they reached a set of tall metal doors carved into the stone wall. They stood open and Ellyria could see their horses and Mirkwood soldiers outside. Inside the gates, stood the King speaking with Feren who was also dressed in armor.
The guard led them up to the King and departed with a quick bow.
"My captain and his guard will escort you to the edge of your woods, my lady," said the King, nodding to Feren who inclined his head to Ellyria and Felinor.
"Thank you, Captain," replied Ellyria.
Felinor placed his hand on his chest and bowed to the King before walking out the door with Feren at his side, leaving Ellyria and the King alone.
She met his worried eyes and tried to give voice to all the things she wished to say to him but all that came out was, "I am in your debt, my lord and Master Viridian and Pela's. Will you thank them for me?"
"You owe me nothing, my lady. I will pass your words along," replied the King.
"I pray we may meet again someday under less dangerous circumstances." offered Ellyria, placing her hand on her chest and bowing to him.
Thranduil opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again silently.
"Go, your father is waiting," said Lord Thranduil instead, placing his hand on his chest and bowing to her.
She met his eyes one last time before striding to her impatient horse. Once outside, she realized the East Road was lined with dozens of Mirkwood guards, standing at attention, facing out into the forest. Ellyria swung up onto her horse, glanced at Felinor and Feren who were already on theirs and nodded to them.
"Let us be gone," said Ellyria, turning her horse to face the path and digging her heels in.
