"Where am I?"
Thranduil lifted his eyebrows and smiled lightly at her. They were sitting on the great bed, still in the massive, shining quarters where Erulastiel had woken three days prior. She had wanted to leave the room, to explore the cavernous palace - and yes, she admitted to herself, perhaps find another route out of the kingdom. However, her healer, Nestadon, had insisted that she remain resting for at least a week, and so Erulastiel found herself in the company of books from Thranduil's great library, the occasional servant whom she convinced to stay and talk, and, today, the elvenking himself. He had entered the grand room silently, and Erulastiel had been so engrossed in her latest literature that she hadn't even realized his presence until he gently removed its pages from her hands.
She had been surprised - after their last interaction, Erulastiel wasn't entirely sure how to react to Thranduil. And that kiss, she thought, she had been ruminating on its meaning for the past few days, unable to make sense of its origin or ramifications. Time would tell, she assumed, and she decided upon a friendly but guarded approach to dealing with the elvenking.
He had placed the book upon her bedside table and then summoned a serving-elf from beyond the door. She entered swiftly, carrying a tray of bread, fruit, and wine, placed the tray in the middle of Erulastiel's bed, and was gone as quickly as she had entered. Erulastiel turned to look at Thranduil, who merely shrugged and sat down at the foot of her bed. And it was in this manner that Erulastiel found herself sharing a meal with the elvenking.
"You are in my quarters, little one," he responded, breaking her from her rumination on the past several days. "Where else would you be?"
"The dungeons, perhaps? I did commit treason, per your very words," she volleyed, taking a small bite of bread and smiling at Thranduil.
Past her cool facade, however, Erulastiel was shocked to finally learn of her location. His personal chambers? He must have countless rooms, she thought. Why bring her here? The idea simultaneously unnerved her and comforted her. She did not particularly care to be in such close and...intimate...proximity to the elvenking. However, after their conversation from several nights ago, she recognized a piece of herself within Thranduil's soul; it was a connection that she could not make with any other elf. They were both scarred by the darkness, and that, somehow, made them kindred spirits.
Thranduil shifted slightly at the foot of her bed, his cloak falling down upon the covers. He was again clothed in regal splendor; a crown of berries adorned his smoothed hair, and a golden robe billowed down his frame. Now rested, his eyes again held power and authority, and he appeared every inch a king. He rested easily upon her duvet, drinking in the fine wines and their spirited conversation.
"You did not commit treason, for you never crossed my borders. I believe you have me to thank for that," he said, smirking slightly at her and taking a sip from a rather full goblet of wine.
"Yes, my Lord, thank you for the arrow in my leg," Erulastiel responded, mustering as much sarcasm as she could hurl at Thranduil. "Were it not for you, I might be halfway to Imladris by now, instead of languishing in this bed. How terrible that would have been!"
Thranduil cocked his head and drank again, his eyes measuring her over the rim of his cup. They had hardened at her words, losing the ease of previous moments and now carrying a tinge of danger. Lowering it onto the tray, he toyed with some jewel upon its frame before speaking again.
"So, you were fleeing to Lord Elrond, then?" he asked, a slight edge carrying in his voice. "I had wondered where you planned to find asylum. I should have known that you would fly to your sister at Rivendell."
Erulastiel swallowed against the lump in her throat. True, Imladris had been her destination, but she dreaded the arrival and the moment of meeting her sister once more. After the battle that left her scarred, Celebrian could no longer bear the guilt of seeing her, and Erulastiel's sister had refused to visit Lorien. As the road between Imladris and Lorien became more treacherous with the growth of the darkness, journeys between the two kingdoms became impractical, and the sisters had not seen each other in decades. Erulastiel had hoped that this opportunity to visit her sister would allow for healing - and now she lay injured. The irony did not escape her, and she turned away from Thranduil's gaze, not wanting the elvenking to see the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She was not ready to reveal all of her secrets to him, especially when he still kept things from her.
She felt the bed become lighter, and sensed Thranduil's presence at her side. Keeping her eyes away from his face, she heard him sigh and speak.
"I have distressed you. That was not my intent," he said.
She turned to face him again, her eyes blazing and rimmed with tears, both of past sorrows and of present angers.
"Exactly what is your intent, my Lord?" she asked, seething with each word. "Since our meeting, you have ignored me, threatened me, ordered me shot, and attempted to drug me. If I am ever to consider trusting you, you must answer my concerns."
Thranduil appeared taken aback. His great, icy eyes widened in shock at her attack, and he swiftly stood from his crouching position at the head of her bedside. Sweeping through the room, he placed hands behind his back, twisting shimmering jewels upon his slender fingers. When he turned to face Erulastiel again, his eyes were full of questions.
"When did I attempt to drug you?" His deep voice echoed through the room, and Erulastiel could have sworn the elvenking truly did not understand her question.
"Do not play ignorant with me," she responded, attempting to gain answers through his confusion. "I saw the vial in your hands, I heard your order to fill my drink with its contents."
He did not respond, but remained motionless, staring at Erulastiel without blinking. Suddenly, his eyes became cold and harsh, losing all indication of their former state of misunderstanding and curiosity. The balance in the room had shifted, and she felt it. It was palpable. Her indignation now became his anger, and displeasure played upon his eyes.
"So, it was you who incapacitated Maerdes," he said softly, walking toward her with hands still clasped behind his back. She instinctively shrank back into the pillows, but Thranduil continued his slow, steady movement. "She remains in the healers' quarters, incapable of waking from her sleep. Tell me, little one," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "did you use your gift on her?"
Thranduil had reached her bedside, and he placed his arms on either side of her pillows, trapping her body with his. She was terrified. Somehow the tables had turned, and her interrogation had fueled his fires of anger. Trembling, she found herself unable to answer as his icy eyes bored into hers. Understanding that she would not respond, Thranduil closed his eyes and attempted to regain control. Slowly, he lowered himself until their foreheads were touching, and Erulastiel could feel the barely-concealed rage from the contact.
"Did you use your gift on my youngest handmaiden?" he asked again, keeping his forehead pressed against hers, and the deadly softness of his voice demanded an answer.
"I...I did...my Lord," she said, "But only because I feared for my life, because I was afraid you would harm me." She stopped, but found her voice again, this time stronger. "And it appears I was right to use my gift on Maerdes. I saw the vial you handed to her. What was it - some truth elixir? Something to incapacitate me?"
He did not move. They remained locked in their fiery embrace, the heat of anger radiating from their touching skin. Finally, Thranduil spoke again, his words a whisper of breath upon her lips.
"If only it had been such a potion, my life would be infinitely easier," he said softly.
Erulastiel could barely taste the wine upon his breath. Part of her wanted to drink it in, to fill herself with it, but another part raged against his control. She was only half-relieved when Thranduil removed his forehead and stood again beside her bed. Retrieving the tray from the covers, he turned away from her and walked to the door. Erulastiel was simultaneously relieved and disappointed, both happy to see the elvenking leave, and yet, she found herself longing for his blue eyes, for his deep voice that echoed through the walls. When he reached the door, Thranduil turned again to face her, his anger under control but his sadness evident in lined eyes.
"It was the sleeping draught you require to fight off the dreams of darkness," he spoke quietly. "Some will be delivered to your chambers shortly."
With that, he bowed to her and left the room. Erulastiel remained staring at the closed door, not comprehending why she suddenly felt so alone. A flash of light from the foot of her bed caught her attention - Thranduil's great silver cloak lay tangled amongst the duvet of her blankets. Minimizing her leg movements as much as possible, she retrieved the massive, shining fabric and pulled it over her body. His scent remained, infusing her pillows with red wine and pine needles, and Erulastiel found herself drifting off into an uneasy slumber.
When Thranduil returned several hours later, to deliver her sleeping draught and to retrieve his abandoned cloak, he found Erulastiel tangled in its silver folds. Smiling, he laid a small vial on her bedside and leaned over her sleeping frame. The starlight shone upon her pale skin, and Thranduil again found himself drawn to her. Bending down, he placed a soft kiss upon her forehead, lingering a moment longer before withdrawing, leaving his cloak and passions behind, shining beneath starlit skies.