Chapter 11: Pronunciamento

Thranduil woke to the same soothing sensations spreading in his stomach as he had become accustomed to from Tauriel over the last few days. Her hands were like blessed and he treasured their work most when she accompanied her enchantments with a physical touch, her gentle rub. He instinctually turned to feel those magical fingers closer. The effect however was counterproductive as the elleth pulled back, conscientious, "I apologise my Lord, I did not mean to wake you, it's just that you seemed uncomfortable in your sleep."

"You did the right thing," Thranduil wished he could order those hands back, but that would have given the appearance of him being more needy and personal than he wanted to appear. So he just pulled up on his pillows instead, set to trouble himself with the problems of the kingdom for the day, should they present themselves.

"No change?" Tauriel noted his unwavering expression, a sure sign that he was concealing some pain.

"I am well enough," he assured, "send in Rilorfir, let's see what the Council has for me today."

The redhead handed him his morning tonic sitting at the ready on the nightstand, a potion made to strengthen him as well as serve as an analgesic and anti-spasmodic, the best intermixture Elvellon could come up with after his own examination of the monarch. "My Lord..." She started bashfully, "I would like you to get better, not just get through the day with my help. I can't do it on my own and I do not know if you're trying."

"What is it you're accusing me of now!" Thranduil's mood seemed momentarily affected not just by her words but the taste of the medicine as well.

"Do you still want to die?" Tauriel dared, but she knew it had to be addressed.

"Do I want to die! If I wanted to die I would have sailed already when Legolas was here, don't you think!" He spat contumaciously.

"You might say that, with your mind and perhaps with some of your heart as well, but your body seems to have other ideas. Elvellon thinks that the explanation for your continuing illness is that your body won't eliminate the poisons completely as it wants to hold on to the possibility of passing. You will keep being unwell unless you convince it otherwise and only you can do that."

"Drivel!" Thranduil dismissed the theory outwardly along with the rest of his tonic he shoved back into his ex captain's hands. Currently he was in no mood for anything that came from Elvellon.

"With all due respect Sire, do you have another explanation for your illness."

He sucked in a breath because of her insolence. "Quiet! Do you want me to repeat myself!"

"Rilorfir is overseeing the distribution of sowing seeds among farmer families for the spring today," Tauriel got back to the subject of his orders.

"Is someone else waiting to see me then." Thranduil pushed, irritated that he had to prompt her with the day's agenda.

"Only Elvellon," the archer admitted wearily as the reason for the visit would be obvious, "he is just trying to help if you wish it so."

"Send him on his way!" With all his might and age, Thranduil still sounded like a petulant child.

Tauriel bowed to accentuate her benevolent intentions, "my Liege, I want you well, as does the rest of your kingdom. Only a spirited king can force his nation to change its ways."

"Whatever you're talking about!" Thranduil's eyes went to the desk where a draft of his edict was lying rolled up. "Have you read the parchment!"

"I..I am deeply sorry my Lord. I was sitting here watching over you all night and...I didn't mean to intrude, I was merely pottering around. Please forgive me, I did not know it was a secret document. Is it a secret document?"

Thranduil inclined his head sideways, "it will be common knowledge soon enough, what I want is your opinion," he looked at her intently. Honesty he did not need to ask for as her ex guard was always true to herself.

Tauriel's smile was saturnine, "well, my Lord, if I understand it well, that decree just gave me the blessing to be with whomever I want to be, may that be a dwarf or any other species. Too bad it's too late."

The older elf's eyes widened somewhat, "I would hardly think many elves would have the ludicrous notion to choose a dwarf, or otherwise I would have to change my wording."

This time, the elleth's smile was more genuine, self-aware of how unusual her recent path had been. "I have detested you for a long time for your unwillingness to accept change," she started her real answer, "and I am profoundly impressed by your suggestions if I may."

"It's not a suggestion. It will be law," he gave a displeased sigh.

"Of course, my Lord."

"Does that mean you'll comply? You've obviously had time to think about it in the night." Thranduil tested the waters of how his ordinary citizens will react. Because no matter how steadfast he showed himself outwardly, he had not felt so uncertain in his role even since first inheriting the crown. "A child is all that's asked from you, not to love another," he stressed in view of her recent loss.

"It's hard for me to think about such things right now, my Lord," she referred to the same events, steeling herself for possible disagreements.

"But you don't rebut the idea, do you?"

"No, Aran nin. I am your loyal servant," she felt like making sure he understood that she felt regretful about her disobedience.

"Very well, that is all I wanted to verify," Thranduil moved to get out of bed, surprising the elleth with the sudden agility, "send a servant in, I want to select some garments for a day of open audience with my people."

tbc