Although the sunrays were still warm enough for Nimiel to leave the caves without a cloak, she could not ignore the increasing number of red and yellow leaves on the trees. Autumn was approaching once again and in secret she was looking forward to her favourite time of year. The harvest season, the storms that would blow away the foul odours of the darkening forest, children collecting chestnuts and acorns, the first crackling flames in the fireplaces during the long evening hours. She smiled and picked a dry leaf off her skirt while entering the corridor that led to the royal quarters.
After finishing her shift at the Houses of Healing she had paid a visit to her little herb plantation to refill her supplies. Now it was time to face the last challenge of the day: convincing the king of a few more than necessary renovations in the healing quarters. Once again she checked the written list of measures she wanted him to sign off, just to be sure.
The first adversity she had to overcome in order to complete her quest was to find the king. She had not seen him in days and she was almost certain to know the reason for his scarce appearances. The guests from the late queen's kin had been staying in the Woodland Halls for more than two months and Thranduil, who had never been overly fond of disturbances to his routine, was slowly but steadily getting tired of them. Nimiel could not blame him for it. She had not seen much of them but she had been introduced to them as well and spent her share of time in polite conversation.
The most agreeable one of the party was undoubtedly the young lady, a sweet-tempered, well-educated girl who showed genuine interest in all the new people and places the Woodland Halls had to offer. The lord was a pleasant fellow as well, given that one was interested in horses and tales of the sea. He did not care much about etiquette, which made him a refreshing contrast to his wife. Nimiel had disliked the lady from the moment she had first laid eyes on her. She could not quite figure out the reason – of course one part of it was the fact that Daenis' only recognition of Tauriel saving her daughter's life a few weeks ago had been a forced smile and a few studied words of appreciation. She still kept side-eyeing the captain, especially when she saw her in the company of the prince.
Nimiel shook her head in silence. It was more than obvious that Lady Daenis was forging out most specific plans regarding Legolas and her daughter. From an objective point of view there was nothing wrong with her intentions. Noble families had always preferred to marry their children to other nobility and no one could deny that Legolas and Gelinnas did indeed get along exceptionally well. Still, Nimiel felt slightly uncomfortable whenever she saw the two of them together, the truth being that she had never given up hope for Legolas and Tauriel to resolve their issues.
Of course she was happy for the prince; in fact she almost saw herself as a substitute mother figure to him, and who was she to begrudge him this chance of happiness? However, she was not as blind as to overlook the obvious: There was still a lot more than mere friendship in the looks, gestures and words that Tauriel and Legolas shared and poor Tauriel was not taking too well to the sudden presence of Lady Gelinnas, although she was trying hard to appear cheerful and friendly. A sigh escaped Nimiel's lips; sometimes the Valar had a strange sense of humour.
She reached the door of the king's study and decided to try her luck. She knocked and indeed, after a while, she heard the noise of a shifting chair and footsteps.
"Enter!" the king's voice called and Nimiel fulfilled his request. She found herself walking into a mess of open books and parchment rolls, the desk was buried under various layers of maps, and a pile of battered quills as well as the nearly burnt-down candles indicated that the king had already spent a lot of time with his paperwork. Nimiel bowed to him, trying to hide her smile at his astonished and even slightly embarrassed expression.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he asked her when he had regained his royal composure, gracefully ignoring the infernal chaos around him.
Nimiel forced her eyes away from the piles of paper and parchment and replied unceremoniously, "I am seeking you out because I need you to sign off a few renovation measures at the Houses of Healing."
The king arched an eyebrow. "Again? Did you not have the healing quarters refurbished a few years ago?"
'May the games begin,' Nimiel thought and prepared herself to reel off her arguments in the order she had practised. "Two hundred and fourteen, to be precise," she pointed out. "The water damage in the storage rooms is starting to affect the durability of our supplies and there is mould growing in some of the treatment rooms. These are insupportable conditions in a place where people are supposed to recover their health." She felt her back ache due to the uncomfortably straight posture she had taken while making her point, all in order to appear determined.
The king nodded, a small frown on his forehead, but with the ghost of a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. This was a battle they had often fought before. "As a regular attendant of the healing quarters I have never noticed the grievances you mentioned," he stated.
Nimiel retaliated immediately, "That is because I never take you to the affected parts, out of politeness. Maybe next time I should treat your face in one of the mildewed rooms and see how you like mould spores in your open wound." She was well aware of how disrespectfully she was speaking to her king and she would never have chosen these words in a public conversation, but she had a long-standing rule saying that whenever she was alone with him and he was not wearing his crown, he was simply Thranduil, a person she had known for millennia who could take a few honest words once in a while.
The strategy seemed to pay off. The king gave her another short frown, but then he shrugged and conceded, "Very well then, do whatever you need to do." Nimiel could not suppress the smirk of satisfaction that conquered her face and it did not go unnoticed by the king. She placed her list on his desk on top of a historical map of Greenwood that still showed the borders during Lord Oropher's reign. He examined the list with a sigh of pretended exhaustion before he took up a quill and put his signature under it.
"Thank you, my lord," Nimiel said and folded the list, "I will not keep you from your… occupation any longer." Her sceptical glance at the chaos made the king chuckle.
"Am I detecting a hint of judgement there?" he asked, trying to look severe but failing. "Granted, I may have caused poor Galion a permanent trauma when he walked in here an hour ago…"
"I cannot blame him," Nimiel admitted and made an attempt to turn around, but the king stopped her by stepping in her way.
"Wait a moment, will you? I have not seen you in a while – a most lamentable circumstance. So, if you are not bound by any pressing issues, I would like to offer you a glass of cider and the prospect of a friendly conversation."
"I suppose I can consent to your generous offer," she allowed and accepted the glass of apple cider the king had just poured from a carafe on his desk. She waited for him to fill another one for himself and proposed the ironic toast, "To black mould and chaos!"
"May we survive them both!" the king gave back and they took a sip of the sweet beverage.
While looking for a place to set down her glass Nimiel remarked, "It is true, we have not spoken in quite some time. One might assume you are hiding."
The king gave her a somewhat nervous glance. "Why would I hide in my own halls?" he asked back, already confirming her suspicion.
"Who can say?" she reasoned. "Maybe to avoid certain encounters?" She grinned and took another taste of cider.
Thranduil's inner battle was plainly visible but in the end he chose to give in, "I see that there is no deceiving you, my friend. Our guests have been wearing on my nerves lately. Well, in fact it is mostly Lady Daenis. I know I am being a despicable host, but there is no use in denying that I will not regret their departure in three days."
Nimiel struggled not to look too amused. "I am not going to reproach you," she assured him. "Ten weeks can indeed be an eternity, depending on the company you spend them in." The king nodded in silence and for a moment they simply savoured the peace and quiet of mutual understanding and shared annoyance.
Soon enough another thought crossed Nimiel's mind and she could not resist mentioning, "Someone at least seems to enjoy the company of your guests. Your son has been spending a lot of time with the young lady."
"Indeed he has," Thranduil affirmed, not showing any emotion whatsoever and apparently unwilling to elaborate further on the subject that Nimiel was so interested in. She assessed him inquisitively and realised that he knew exactly what she was playing at.
She eventually chose curiosity over dignity and asked, "I do not mean to gossip, but do you believe that they might be forming an attachment?"
Thranduil shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "It is possible." As if everything had been said with these three words, he turned towards the desk and started examining one of the maps on it. Nimiel could have massacred him with her bare hands for such teasing. Finally he turned back towards her and graced her with his attention, the smirk on his face reflecting how much je enjoyed infuriating her. "If they were developing a mutual fondness, I would not be opposed to it. It is high time Legolas makes up his mind about choosing a wife."
"So Lady Gelinnas might be the one?" Nimiel probed. After a short pause of doubt she added, "Do you see her fit to meet your..., I mean Legolas' requirements?" She could not quite imagine that sweet but slightly clueless girl to be the future princess of the Woodland Realm.
"Whyever not?" Thranduil asked innocently and forced Nimiel to explain.
"She seems rather... young, in every possible sense. Would you really entrust your realm and your people to her and Legolas? Because that is what is on your mind, is it not?" There, she had said it!
She savoured the look of slight bewilderment on the king's face, before he conceded, "You know me too well, my dear Lady Nimiel. You are right, I have been pondering the notion of ceding my crown to Legolas one day, but probably not any time soon. I will not simply let go of my responsibility in times like these." His eyes wandered to the old map on the desk and lingered on the realm's southern border for a few seconds.
Nimiel tilted her head curiously and pointed out, "And yet, you have been restless these last few years and I think I know what causes your condition. Has the longing for the sea finally caught up with you?" She had been observing the king for a while and recognised the unmistakable absent look in his eyes that befell all those who felt the urge to leave the shores of Arda.
Thranduil let out a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed. He leaned against the desk, swirling his glass. "I admit it has. Although I am not sure whether it is a true desire to sail west or simply the weariness of six thousand years. I am tired of worrying and fighting. I am feeling the sickness that has befallen the forest in my own body and mind. It would be a relief to turn my back on all this, but at the same time I feel I would rip out a part of my soul if I left Greenwood and my people behind." He did not look as troubled as his words suggested, but rather nostalgic.
"Your departure would rip out a part of the forest's soul as well," Nimiel remarked, "but after everything you have done for the realm and its people, you certainly have the right to leave for fresh fields and pastures new, if that is your desire." Speaking the words made her realise that she would rather not imagine what life in the Woodland Halls would be like without the capricious, short-tempered, demanding monarch and she suppressed a heavy gulp.
Obviously her face was reflecting her thoughts against her will, because Thranduil gave her a reassuring smile and replied, "I do not think it is. I do not feel like leaving Legolas to his own judgement yet. Besides, was it not you who told me that this world was worth holding on to?"
"That sounds like something I would say," she gave back with a little too much relief in her voice that made a rare expression of warmth appear on the king's face.
He set down his glass on a pile of books and assessed her with friendly curiosity while he inquired, "What about you? Do you long for the sea?" Nimiel tilted her head, not sure what to answer. The truth was that after more than six thousand years it would be most peculiar if she had never heard the call of the Undying Lands, but she did not feel ready to respond to it yet.
"Sometimes I do," she admitted, "but it is like you said: There is still too much here that I hold dear."
"I am glad to hear it," the king answered, "because I would have been very sorry to see you leave."
After that there was a short silence. Nimiel tried to find something to do and the only thing she could think of was to empty her glass in one gulp. Not the wisest decision, as she found out an instant later when a very ungraceful coughing bout shook her entire body. She tried desperately to maintain at least a bit of dignity in the presence of the king, but it was a hopeless endeavour.
Thranduil watched her struggle for a few seconds, then he took the glass out of her hand without further ado and gave her a few solid slaps on the back, which helped her catch her breath again.
"Thank you," she managed to rasp, feeling her cheeks flush crimson.
The king chuckled and pointed out, "You are welcome. It would cast a very bad light on me if the head of the healing quarters were found suffocated in my study."
"How considerate of you," Nimiel stated, realising that his hand was still resting on her back and that she was not at all opposed to its presence.
Suddenly a knock at the door sliced through the moment, causing the king to pull back his hand and Nimiel to take a step back. Thranduil suppressed a grimace of annoyance when he all but barked his usual short order to enter.
The unsuspecting intruder was no one else than Galion. He stepped into the study hesitantly and announced, "My lord, Lady Daenis wishes to speak to y-…" Before he had even finished his line, the elleth in question had already entered the study as if she had never heard of any court protocol whatsoever. Nimiel felt a wave of indignation rise in her chest at such impoliteness.
Lady Daenis stopped at realising that the king was not alone. She frowned slightly but she quickly regained her detached expression and greeted him, "My lord, I am sorry to interrupt but I have something to discuss with you. If I may…?" The last question was directed at Nimiel, who could not even wrap her mind around that impertinent attempt of simply commanding her to leave. Lady Daenis had obviously fallen victim to a crucial misunderstanding about their respective positions.
Nimiel forced her voice to transport all the poise of her Sindarin upbringing when she answered, "Of course you may – as soon as the king and I have resolved on the issue we were just negotiating. I will be happy to let you know on my way out." She graced the lady with her sweetest smile and from the corner of her eye she noticed Galion's struggle not to start laughing. Daenis could not quite hide her agitation but in the end she managed to pull herself together, gave the king a short nod and rushed out of the study again, followed by the butler.
When the door had closed, Nimiel looked back at the king, who was assessing her with equal parts of amusement and sincere admiration. "My lady, you deserve my utmost respect," he admitted.
Nimiel accepted the compliment with a bow of her head. "I was merely proving a point," she stated dryly, remembering to pick up the list she had brought. "I will not keep the lady from her urgent business for long. Thank you for the cider." With that she bowed to the king and took her leave.
Thranduil watched Nimiel close the door behind herself and let out a deep breath. Right before the door opened again, he managed to get rid of the smile that was still lingering around the corners of his mouth. Lady Daenis came back in and repeated her earlier routine of a bow and a respectful greeting, doing fairly well at pretending that nothing had happened. The king straightened up and put on his long-studied, friendly but indifferent business face. "My lady," he addressed the visitor, "how may I help you?"
"Thank you for receiving me on such short notice," Daenis opened her speech, obviously trying hard to focus on his face instead of the general chaos around him.
The king nodded nonchalantly and assured her, "You are welcome. So, what is the pressing matter that brings you here?" He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and made no effort to hide his intention.
Lady Daenis started, "As you know, our departure is not far ahead."
'Thank Eru for that,' Thranduil stated to himself before she continued, "In fact, it is a shame that we must leave just now." She stepped a little closer to him, as if she were executing a carefully planned choreography, and cut to the point in an almost conspiratorial tone, "the reason being that I could not help but notice a certain mutual partiality between your son and my daughter."
Of course, what else? Thranduil refrained from sighing in exhaustion. Instead he asked innocently, "Is that so?"
"Indeed," Lady Daenis affirmed, "and I was thinking, maybe we should let Gelinnas stay a little while longer to give them the opportunity to get to know each other better."
Thranduil pondered the thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that, as long as her parents would not insist on staying as well, that idea was not the worst one ever uttered within these walls. Nevertheless he objected, "Your husband would certainly not approve of leaving his daughter in the very place he blames for the loss of his cousin." He thanked the Valar for six thousand years of diplomatic training that enabled him to speak these words calmly.
Not much to his surprise, Lady Daenis only shook her head. "You would not be intimidated by him, would you? Andor is good with his horses, whereas I am good with people. Gelinnas is my youngest child and my only daughter, so it will pain me to part with her for anyone. But if it were dear Legolas, who is practically family, at least my heart would ache less. Who am I to stand in the way of my child's happiness?"
Thranduil only just stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Or rather your own?" he could not resist remarking.
A nearly invisible shadow of annoyance flickered over Daenis' perfectly composed features and she took a split second too long to reply, "In these dark times we all have to choose our allies wisely, King Thranduil."
'Now we're getting to it,' the king stated to himself with a somewhat misplaced sense of victory and looked at her firmly while clarifying, "I will not force my son to marry for the sake of politics." It was true, he did not have the intention to impose marriage on Legolas against his will, however favourable his own opinion of Lady Gelinnas as a daughter-in-law might be.
"No one wants to force anything," Daenis hurried to explain, "but a little careful prodding cannot hurt, can it? Or am I to assume that you would prefer your son to pledge himself to one of your Silvan subjects?"
Her last remark made Thranduil lose his composure for an instant. Who would have thought that this harpy would actually manage to put her finger on one of his sore spots? Apparently there was a good reason for her reputation as an especially cunning politician.
"Certainly not," he admitted dryly.
"My lord," Daenis said almost soothingly and took another two steps towards him, resting her hand lightly on the edge of his desk, "as you know, in our home we rear our horses with extraordinary care. We choose only the purest ones with the most excellent endowments to breed and give them the best possible training. We teach them to be obedient, loyal and graceful and if they do not meet our high requirements at once, we go through the lessons again and again until they are worthy of our good name. This way we make them outshine even the noble steeds of Rohan."
She picked up a marble paperweight in the shape of a tiny horse and twirled it between her fingers. Thranduil was already sensing where this monologue was going and cringed internally as his intuition was proven right. "I have taken the same care in bringing up my daughter. She is like a precious gem, polished and rare, and she would certainly make an exquisite adornment for your court."
A slight feeling of disgust made the king take in a sharp breath. "My lady, I believe you have made your point," he replied coldly and took the paperweight out of her hands.
Daenis closed her eyes in frustration, but she managed to force her mouth to smile again immediately – this time a little more determinedly than before. "You and I are more alike than you think," she claimed, "We both have our family's best interest in mind. Consider my offer. Given the circumstances, neither of us can be picky in terms of alliances."
She had a point, that much was for certain. Scaring off a potential ally against the evil that was brewing in Arda was not the wisest move. Besides, what harm could come from letting the girl stay a while longer? It would not be viewed as a definite consent; after all it was quite common for the offspring of noble families to spend some time away from home for educational purposes. He had sent Legolas to Imladris a few centuries ago, so why not accept Gelinnas as a more permanent guest?
Thranduil resolved to be a generous host for once and conceded, "My lady, if it is your daughter's wish, she is welcome to stay as long as she desires."
Daenis graced him with a victorious smile. "I never doubted your wisdom for a second."
-x-x-x-x-
Tauriel made no effort to cover up her bad mood when she was descending the stairs to the training yard, followed by Sidhril.
"Come on, you should at least try not to look like you're attempting to murder her!" Sidhril teased her, but all Tauriel could was shake her head.
"I might," she grumbled, tightening her grip around the two bows she was carrying.
She was on her way to one of the most undesirable missions of her whole career. A few days earlier Lord Andor and Lady Daenis had started their return journey to the West – however, their daughter was still gracing the Woodland Halls with her presence. She was apparently going to spend an indefinite time in Greenwood for purposes of education and experience. Tauriel did not even want to imagine what that might imply, given that Legolas was obviously very much impressed by the girl. He spent a lot of time with her, showing her around the caves, discussing every educated topic from history to poetry with her, pretending to be fascinated by every horse story she told him… Tauriel sighed; it was enough to drive her up the wall!
Not that she was jealous – Eru forbid, why would she be? She and Legolas had resolved to be friends. But as his friend, Tauriel was concerned for… Yes, what was it again that concerned her? Right, Legolas' likelihood to rush into the decision of attaching himself to that girl he had known for barely three months.
Tauriel threw a glance at Sidhril, who was grinning a little meanly from one ear to the other. "What?" the captain snapped.
"Nothing, nothing at all," Sidhril insisted and Tauriel gave her an ice-cold glare. How in Eru's name had she even ended up with the assignment to teach Gelinnas the basics of self-defence? Granted, if she was to stay in the Woodland Realm, she should certainly know how to stand her own ground, especially after the earlier incident in the forest.
Since Tauriel had saved her life, Gelinnas had somehow got the idea that the captain should become her new best friend, and although Tauriel could not deny that she felt flattered and even a little touched by that unexpected offer of affection, she did not look forward to spending more time than necessary with her. But Gelinnas had sounded so hopeful while asking her to be her teacher that a no, even along with a plausible excuse, had seemed too cruel to Tauriel.
She pushed the door of the training yard open and mentally prepared herself for a short dagger duel with Sidhril that they had been planning to squeeze into their schedules for several days. Tauriel did not get many opportunities to take out her blades anymore, so she was grateful for every chance to keep herself in shape.
What the two soldiers had not anticipated was that Gelinnas had apparently had a similar idea. Tauriel froze between two of the giant stalagmites when she saw that the lady had already arrived, accompanied by no other than Legolas. Judging from his gestures and his stern expression while holding up his bow, he was trying to explain to her how the mechanics of the weapon worked and how one was supposed to hold it. 'Why doesn't he do the teaching himself then?' Tauriel asked herself silently, catching and returning Sidhril's disbelieving look.
"Let's come back later," Tauriel suggested under her breath.
Sidhril held her back and whispered, "I want to see this!" At first Tauriel was not sure whether she shared her friend's interest, but in the end they decided to stay quiet and observe the spectacle for a while.
Legolas had set up a wooden target and was about to demonstrate the correct way of aiming. When he had released his arrow and hit the centre, he drew another one and handed the bow to his hesitant student. "Left hand here, right hand on the string," Tauriel heard him explain and could barely stop herself from grinning at the ever so slight hint of impatience in his voice.
Gelinnas grabbed the bow and tightened the string, dropping the arrow in the process. "Oh, I'm sorry," she mumbled, but Legolas did not say anything, simply picked up the arrow and gave it back to her.
"Now bend it again," he instructed. "Remember, the arrow is the prolongation of your arm and your arm is your visual axis." Gelinnas nodded hectically, focussing on the target.
"Elbereth, how hard it is to pull this string!" she exclaimed, the distraction causing her to let go of the arrow and shoot it towards a stalagmite approximately twelve feet from the target. Sidhril and Tauriel exhaled simultaneously and exchanged a pitiful look.
Legolas was obviously fighting his urge to laugh, but in the end he succeeded and stoically drew a new arrow. "Alright, let's start over," he suggested. Gelinnas displayed an all but desperate expression, but she nodded bravely and aimed once more.
"No, this is not going to work!" Legolas interjected after watching the tragedy for a few seconds. "Let me show you."
He stepped behind her and made her shift her upper body a few degrees, then guided her arm in the right direction and helped her bend the bow. Tauriel almost snorted on seeing how close he was standing, but that was nothing compared to the excruciatingly charming smile of gratitude that Gelinnas gave him.
"Eyes on the target would help a lot!" Tauriel hissed in Sidhril's ear.
Her friend whispered back, "Oh, I think they are right on it." Tauriel gave her another glare, although she could not deny the painful truth in her words.
She was interrupted when Legolas suddenly exclaimed, "Eru! I still need this hand!"
Tauriel instantly turned towards them and saw that Gelinnas had apparently let go of the arrow before Legolas had been able to remove his hand, which was now bleeding.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry!" the girl apologised once more, biting her lip.
"That's it!" Tauriel resolved, "She can do with him whatever she wants, but as soon as she harms him, it's my duty to intervene! I'm supposed to guard him after all."
Sidhril encouraged her with a nod and said, "Fine, I'll better take my leave then. Be brave, Captain!" With that she left the training yard.
After taking a last deep breath, Tauriel braced herself for the inevitable and stepped out of her hiding place. Gelinnas and Legolas were already in the middle of another shot, which did not even look as doomed as the ones before – until Gelinnas became aware of Tauriel's presence. Within a mere blink she turned towards her, lost focus on the bowstring and accidentally released it. The arrow would have gone right into Tauriel's chest if Legolas had not given the bow a life-saving knock to the side in the very last moment.
The arrow landed on the floor a few feet behind Tauriel. She closed her eyes and buried her fingernails in her palm, vaguely realising that Gelinnas stuttered, "Excuse me, Captain, that was unintentional…"
"I know, don't worry," Tauriel interrupted her and could not resist adding. "Although I have to say, I expected the archer who would one day manage to kill me to have hit a mark at least once before."
Gelinnas' face instantly turned crimson – and so did Legolas', but maybe for different reasons. He gave Tauriel an awkward grin and muttered, "Well, now that you're here, I should leave the two of you to your lesson." He quickly took his bow from Gelinnas' hands. "Good luck!" he shouted over his shoulder from halfway to the door and Tauriel was unsure for which one of them the wish was intended.
As soon as they were alone, Tauriel swallowed her frustration. "So, I see you have already prepared yourself," she said for lack of a better introduction.
"Well," the girl gave back, sceptically examining the two differently shaped bows that Tauriel had brought, "the truth is that I was afraid to make a complete fool of myself in front of you, so I asked Legolas to show me the basics in advance. So much for my honourable intention!" She frowned and displayed an awkward grimace. A moment later her expression suddenly changed while she added, "But you have to admit that for an absolute beginner it is not bad to make the prince bleed and almost kill the Captain of the Guard within mere minutes, right?"
Tauriel had to process her words twice before she realised that she had not thought Gelinnas capable of such self-mockery. Against her will it made a chuckle escape her mouth. "Indeed, you do deserve credit for that, my lady," she conceded.
"Please, call me Gelinnas," it came back along with a perfectly poised but genuine smile.
Tauriel was still slightly dumbfounded, so the only answer she could think of was, "Well then, shall we begin?" For some reason she was not so sure about her complete and utter reluctance to spend time with that girl anymore. Maybe, just maybe, this would not be the most horrible mission of her career after all.