Hey sweet precious readers! How do you fare? Well, I hope. This week I have a lot to thanks, as many of you reviewed last chapter, it was wonderful to read what you guys wrote! Also, there are some new courtiers, welcome bubblettrocks, systematic star, Kumori no Carlie, SOLDIERNichole and smoonchester, thank you for following/favoriting this story, it's really amazing to know that even this far into the story there are still people who stop to read it from the start and like it and follow or favorite it, you guys are amazing, really!

Also, this chapter Zynia will have a really short POV, just so you guys don't feel like "What the hell, whose POV is this?"

Chapter XXVI

With a Little Help From My Friends

Thranduil took the red ribbon to his lips, inhaling the apple scent. He would prove Hazel wrong. He would prove to her that he wasn't a coward, or a liar. Or heartless.

The king had asked to meet her again the next night, since he needed time to think of something. Yes, he would apologize for calling her low born, and for all the thing with the ranger. Even though just thinking of him made the king sick. Alyan must be very happy with their fight, since he now had Hazel all to himself. The king wanted to beat him again just to think of it. He wanted to send the ranger away, to some distant village, but he knew Hazel would never forgive him if he did so.

Stupid ranger, being all friendly and understanding. The king saw well enough the game that he was playing. Thranduil drank in a healthy sip of wine, feeling helpless. What if he had finally lost Hazel to the damned ranger? The king jumped from his seat close to the fire and poured what remained of his wine on it, managing to fill his room with smoke. Restless, he walked to balcony door, watching the stars. He wouldn't entertain such thoughts. Thranduil trusted his elleth.

Only, she wasn't his anymore.

No, Hazel was his soulmate. She would never be anyone else's.

Which didn't mean she would always be his. There was a huge gap between the two options. The king felt sick to think about it. Hazel was independent. What if she changed her mind about going to Rivendell? No one could make Hazel stay if she set her mind to leave.

Thranduil wanted to go to the Healing Wing and make sure that she was still there, but he controlled his despair. Hazel would go nowhere in the dead of night.

As soon as the morning came he could order her to be locked up in her bedroom.

Thranduil shook his head at his absurd thinking. That was the very kind of thought that put him where he was now. He wouldn't lock his pet dove. He would give her that silent proof that he trusted her.

The king took his eyes from the stars and dropped in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Apparently, that included tolerating the ranger.

I looked at the paper, analyzing my work for the thousandth time or so. By the time I was satisfied with it the sun was already coming up and I felt destroyed. I hadn't eaten anything the day before and sleep deprivation didn't exactly help with that. But at least my work was done, and I could now free myself of the guilt that chewed on my heart. Perhaps after that I would be able to eat something. The thought of food still made me sick.

"Hey. Good morning." Zynia greeted me with a sleepy smile, surprised to find me up before her, and I managed a fake smile, feeding on my little victory. Now she couldn't call me lazy anymore.

"Good morning, Zynia."

I emptied my mind, focused in grooming her honeyed waves.

"Hey, I'm not going to breakfast with you girls, there's something I have to do, can you please ask Ellia to care for the gardens today?"

"Yes, of course." Zynia's green eyes pinned mine through the mirror "But we have to talk later. I'm worried about you, Hazel."

"There's no reason to worry." Lie.

"Hazel, don't try to fool me, I know you're not eating. Nor sleeping. We'll talk about it later." She imposed, talking to me in her healer voice as if I was a stubborn elfling not wanting to eat the vegetables.

"Yes, Nan." I sighed.

The king pushed the food around his plate. Whose idea was it of serving apple crumble as breakfast? The entrancing apple smell wasn't helping, and every second was a fight against the will of dropping face-first in the plate.

"You're not eating." Legolas noticed "I thought you liked apple crumble."

So it was Legolas' idea.

As touching as it was, his son's attempt to get him to eat something wasn't helping much.

"I'm not hungry."

Legolas shot him a judgmental gaze.

"I would hardly believe it, since I didn't see you eating anything since yesterday." The prince pressed "I'm worried about you, Ada."

Thranduil absent-mindedly patted his son's golden head, as if he was just an elfling again.

"Good boy. Don't worry, Ada is alright."

Legolas looked at him, incredulous.

"Ada, have you been drinking in the morning on an empty stomach?" The prince asked in a whisper, as to prevent anyone from overhearing.

Hell yes.

"Of course not." The king denied, turning back to dragging the food around the plate.

Legolas narrowed his eyes. The prince knew he was lying. To hell with that, he was the king, and a king can drown his sorrows any time he seems fit.

Thranduil walked the way back to his study, watching as people all but jumped out of his way. His face must be specially terrifying today. Sighing, the king dropped on the chair, feeling about to cry just to look at the immense load of paperwork. On top of that there was a letter with the pompous crest of Lothlórien. Thranduil took the letter, opening it with curiosity. The elegant handwriting of Lord Celeborn greeted him in golden ink.

My dear friend Thranduil,

The king smiled. Celeborn was a valuable companion and a wise elf, his advice was ever welcome.

I grieve that this letter should find you in less than merry moods, and even more so that I should ask of you something that may grieve your heart even more.

The king tensed. Galadriel and that damned mirror. Didn't she have anything better to do than watching other people's lives?

Your current ambassador is homesick of late, and I fear he has not shared his feelings with you for fear of what you might think.

Thranduil frowned. He hadn't, indeed.

As it is, thinking of his well being, I ask you to call him back to the Woodland Realm he so craves to see again, and send the competent Lord Maeglad in his place. I know said lord has been a valuable councilor to you all this long years he has been in your service, but my lady and I believe there's no other capable of representing the Woodland Realm interests in the heart of Lothlórien. So, even though I know how much we ask of you, since Lord Maeglad is also your trusted friend, I firmly believe, and so does my lady, that this is for the best, and I ask you to consider it.

Best regards,

Celeborn

Thranduil puzzled over the letter. Celeborn and Galadriel had never shown any preference for Maeglad or any other noble. Yet, the request from the Golden Wood lord was oddly specific, leaving hardly any space at all for negotiating. Apparently, Thranduil would have need of another Trade Councilor.

There was another piece of paper behind the letter, and the king recognized Galadriel's handwriting. That letter bore no greetings, just a short message.

I'm saving your neck, my friend.

I could lecture you on treating ladies with the respect they're due, but I know you've already done it yourself a thousand times by now.

Be careful of gossip. I wouldn't have need of my mirror if I had the stewardesses of the Woodland Realm. And make the best of the chance I'm giving you.

Sincerely,

Galadriel

Thranduil left out a sigh of relief, leaning back on his chair. That was masterly. How didn't he think of it himself? Maeglad would never refuse such an honor as being entitled Mirkwood's ambassador in Lothlórien. That was, without a doubt, the best way of getting rid of him. Hazel would be most pleased to hear that. The king smiled. God bless Galadriel. And her mirror.

Putting the letters from Lothlórien down, the king noticed another letter that wasn't there before. The paper bore no mark, nor signature, and Thranduil opened it, curious. Apparently everyone found themselves in the right to walk into his study and leave petitions. He should keep it locked. Thranduil was immediately greeted with a flourished writing that he knew all too well.

Apparently, it was a random series of facts in chronological order. The king looked at the three pages, an accounting of times and facts, until he noticed the short message in the end of the third page.

You are one of the bravest elves that ever lived, the bravest I've ever known. Don't ever think otherwise, for I never did so, despite whatever I might have said out of wounded pride.

There was no signature, but there was no need of one anyway. Hazel knew he would know her handwriting at once.

Looking back at the previous pages the king started to understand what they meant. There was a list of facts he had taken part in. There was the slaying of a dragon, the war against Sauron, some other widely known facts, deeds of great bravery as king and warrior, but there were the less known or less celebrated facts that got his attention. There was the day he faced the queen after losing her to Maeglad in a drinking contest, and Thranduil smiled that Hazel still remembered that. There was the day he became a father, when Legolas was born, and though that was hardly thought of as an act of bravery, God only knows how he was scared to even hold such a tiny thing that was his son back then.

Thranduil felt his heart light and heavy at the same time. If, on one hand, Hazel didn't actually thought him a coward, it only made it harder to cope with the fact that she no longer loved him.

Was it possible to win back her love? Or would she hate him forever? Thranduil closed his eyes shut. He couldn't bare her hatred. No, Hazel couldn't hate anyone, she was a creature of utter kindness, the light that took him out of his darkness. She had awaken him after an eternity dwelling in pain, loss and coldness.

The memory of her storm-filled eyes made him shiver. It wasn't until that moment that he realized how powerful she actually was. The king usually thought about Hazel as his pet dove, or his rebellious Queen of Hearts. He had never seen her actually furious before that day. There were glimpses, of course, as when she bit his hand for daring shut her mouth, but never like that.

Thranduil took the letter to his lips. There was only one elleth, apart from Hazel, that had bested him in his rage, and he had married her after she put an arrow through his shoulder. The main difference between the two of them was that Enya's temper was as infamous as his own, while Hazel was usually quiet, save for when she was making minor trouble around.

Thranduil hated to admit, even to himself, but he had taken Hazel for granted. She loved him in such an open, trusting way that he ended up treating her as a subject in love, as she was his subject in court. He had never been so wrong. She was actually his queen, and such a gracious queen that she allowed him to think he was in control.

How could he be so stupid to lose her?

It could not go on like that. He had to find a way to win her back. The king forced himself to think about the offenses he had said to Hazel. He would have to make up for each one. Starting with the ranger.

Thranduil clenched his hands in fists. The hardest chore first, and then the others would seem easy. Taking his twin swords with him, the king headed to the training court.

"Alyan."

The ranger turned to the king with a bow, his face betrayed nothing, but his grip tightened around his own sword as to keep his hands from shaking.

"My lord."

Thranduil summoned with a nod and they started sparring. Now that he was no longer blind with fury, Thranduil was more accurate and less violent in his attacks, noticing that the ranger fought in a half-hearted way.

"Are you afraid of hurting me?" He mocked, seeing a variety of possible answers dancing in the ranger's eyes, though the boy knew better than voicing any of them "Did you sleep well tonight?" The king pressed, causing a chuckled laughter from the crowd.

Alyan tried harder, but his mind was elsewhere.

"Ranger, you have one minute to win this fight, or you'll be making soup for a week."

The king teased, but as he watched Alyan fighting, there was nothing of what he expected to be. He wanted to make up for the previous day's beating, but Alyan was only body present, how could the king appoint him as leader of the rangers for the week?

Think, Thranduil.

Oh, that. Everyone has something that drives them, and keeps them going in a fight. He only had to find that in Alyan.

"You win this fight or else captain Tauriel will spend the rest of the week making soup. And now you have only thirty seconds." He tried, earning a sound laughter from Legolas.

"For the sake of all of us, Alyan!" The prince shouted, causing captain Tauriel to punch his stomach, but Thranduil didn't pay them attention. Alyan fought harder now than the king had seen in years.

The fight lasted almost ninety seconds more before the king finally managed to disarm Alyan.

"You" He started, breathless "fought better in the last ninety seconds than the past twenty years or so. And why is that?" The king looked at the crowd that had huddled to see the fight "Everyone here has a reason to fight. Some fight for the glory of it. Others may have other reasons." Thranduil looked at the eager faces of the apprentices "Until you find whatever drives you, you'll only go as far as a ranger. Alyan found himself a noble reason today. He fought for the sake of his friend." The king paused, looking from the young elves in the crowd back to the breathless ranger that still recovered from the fight "Elves like that, they join the guard." There was the sound of the soldiers around holding their breaths "From today on, Alyan will join captain Tauriel's team."

There was an instant noise as the rangers and members of the guard rushed to congratulate the newest guard. Someone found a spare uniform somewhere and captain Veryan pushed it in a bundle in Alyan's hands amidst the chaos of celebrating elves.

The king watched quietly, with a smirk of respect for his rival. He had intended to make Alyan leader of the rangers for the week if the boy fought well enough, but that fight wasn't supposed to last longer than twenty, thirty seconds. It was absurd that a soldier with such skill would be still a ranger. Thranduil had seen something in the boy, some passion that reminded him of Legolas, and even now he still looked at Alyan's face, as he celebrated with his friends.

That's why he couldn't miss it, even if it was just a moment. When the captain Veryan pushed the bundle of the uniform of the guard in Alyan's hands and the new guard turned to thank him. It was only a second as their eyes met, but it was enough to make the king go pale.

Wait, what?

Thranduil blinked and Alyan turned back to talk to someone, as the captain patted his back.

No, that wasn't right. The king kept his ice mask, even though his first thought was to hit his head against the wall. Several times.

He had fought with Hazel because of an ellon who liked ellons.

He should go to Hazel and ask her to hit his face the hardest she could. He was positively the stupidest creature to ever roam the land. He should go to Elrond and ask the lord of Rivendell to drown him in the Bruinen. Then he should go to Galadriel and ask her to hit his head against a mallorn tree until the tree fell down to the land. And then go to his dearest elk and ask it to run him over a few times.

Hazel told him. She told him to trust her and he didn't. His mind instantly recalled another fight they had, long ago.

"Light behavior? Would Your Majesty say the same if it was Tauriel or Azira on my lap? Because I assure you, Majesty, that the situation is identical."

Of course it was.

Of course it was.

"Ada, you look like you swallowed a frog or something like that." Legolas appeared beside him, helpful as always.

"I should hang myself." The king sighed, leaving the training court.

I was wrong in assuming that handing my apologies to the king would restore my life to normal. Or new normal.

I nibbled at a piece of bread, watching Irminne trot happily around. It tasted like clay. Everything I tried to eat tasted like clay. My loyal companion didn't go as far as she used to, and I knew that she sensed my tension and was worried about me.

"Good girl." I offered her an apple and she took it, gladly.

"Hazel." Zynia's voice startled me. I had spent the whole morning hiding from her "We need to talk."

"No, we don't" I sighed, stubbornly "See, I'm eating." I showed the piece of bread.

"Poorly. And you're not sleeping." I stared at my feet "You know you can't lie to me, this is what I do for a living."

"I'll try to eat some more. And get some sleep." My promise sounded weak even to my ears. It wasn't lack of trying that kept me awake and starving.

"You know that's not what this is about." Zynia guessed "You haven't told anyone, have you?"

My silence was confirmation enough.

"Here's what we're doing, if by tomorrow morning I see you haven't slept I'll be taking this in my hands." Zynia said, gravely, sending shivers down my spine. As the expert in sickness of mind and soul, she had impressive mind powers and to see healers like that in action in their area of expertise was quite scary.

I nodded in agreement.

"Don't tell anyone." I added, thinking specifically of Azira. The last thing I needed was Lord Elrond ordering me to be taken back to Rivendell.

"I won't." Zynia agreed, and I followed her back to the Healing Wing, after taking Irminne back to the stables.

"How's your hand?" She asked, making small talk as we walked down the castle's corridors.

"It's getting better." I looked down at my bandaged hand "I can help, if you want me to."

Zynia nodded, pleased.

"That would be great. Melim and I have some stuff to set and Ellia will need some help."

"No problem." I tried to sound vibrant and merry, but my poor interpretation wouldn't fool a child, leave alone Zynia.

As we reached the healing room I dropped in my chair, looking at the pile of books before me. I was so late in my studies.

"Hazel, one more thing." Zynia's voice caught my attention, and I looked up, surprised. I didn't even hear her entering the room.

As I looked into her green eyes, I only felt the lightest touch on my temple before all went dark.

"Ad-"

Thranduil nearly jumped out of his skin to hear Legolas' voice. He had been lost in thought and didn't hear his son knocking on the door. Or, most likely, Legolas didn't knock on the door. The king quickly wiped the tears of his face, but the prince's pale face was proof that he had seen them.

"Legolas, you were looking for me?" Thranduil got up to his feet, trying to dodge the prince's attention.

"You were crying..."

Well, that didn't work.

"I punched the wall way too hard." The king turned his back so that Legolas wouldn't see the lie in his face, pouring a glass of wine.

"You're lying." A pale hand grabbed his wrist, stopping the glass on the way to his mouth, as Legolas quickly took the glass of his hand and spilled the rich red drink on the priceless carpet.

Thranduil turned to face his son, giving up on the attempt to conceal his sadness. The king looked into his son's eyes and there was only concern. That was more than he deserved. He blinked, feeling the tears trying to come back.

"Give me my wine."

"No." It was Legolas' short answer "Now we'll sit down and you'll tell me what happened so that I can help you."

The prince must have noticed the confused look in his father's face.

"Ada, I just want you to be happy, whatever that means. I know you've been fighting with Hazel, she's been hiding and you've been looking half-dead for days and I don't know what I can do to help you."

That sudden caring was just too much for a tormented heart. Thranduil dropped in bed, not caring if he looked like an ellon half his son's age, lost and confused. If there was someone he could open up to, that someone was Legolas.

"I botched everything. I lost her. I'm an idiot." He started, preparing his son for the full account of his idiocy.

The king sat at his desk, daydreaming, just for a change. Legolas wasn't a kind judge, as Thranduil knew he wouldn't be, but if the prince was right, letting the boy Alyan into the guard would certainly please his dearest sister, as he now referred to Hazel. Of course Maeglad had forgotten to mention that detail. He would be better off in Lothlórien, licking Celeborn's boots. Maeglad had been a vain young ellon, but intelligent and captivating, and the king wondered how he missed the moment when ambition changed his friend.

There was a light knock on the door, and the king answered with a bored 'come in'. He hadn't done a thing apart from the training, maybe he could start working, for a change.

Thranduil was fairly surprised to see the young apprentice healer before him. Most the kids in the castle feared him and stayed out of his way. Of course little Ithilwen was always in the library, so she was more comfortable around the king, which meant she wouldn't run and hide anytime he was nearby. That was significantly more than most of the other kids.

"Ithilwen." The king greeted her with curiosity, and she curtsied low.

"My lord." Ithilwen's greeting sounded strangely grave for one so young "May I speak frankly with you?"

Thranduil nodded, finding it amusing that such a young elleth would speak so gravely. As if she had any important problems in her life.

"My lord, all due respect, you're an idiot." The king stared at the golden-haired elleth for a moment.

"Careful, child." He warned, forcing himself not to cast a storm. If he as much as raised his voice to that girl, Hazel would kill him.

"Lady Hazel has always been kind to me," The elleth went on, not caring much about his warning tone "and you made her sad. Worse, do you know she's not eaten a thing in the past two days? And she didn't sleep as well." At that the king jumped to his feet, as the apprentice looked at him, her hands on her hips.

Of course Thranduil had noticed that Hazel was distressed since their fight, and she didn't attend the meals, but he assumed she snatched something from the kitchens.

"Lady Hazel is sick?" He asked, at once worried. Elves didn't often get sick.

Ithilwen relaxed a bit her challenging pose, looking concerned.

"Lady Zynia had to force her to sleep. She can do that, but no one can force Lady Hazel to eat." When she looked up at the king there was renewed anger in her brown eyes "Whatever you did, you better fix it, my lord. And quickly."

"I will not tolerate this insolence, young lady." Thranduil warned once more.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but Lady Hazel is really sick and I thought you would care!" Ithilwen insisted.

"You dare hint-"

"Why are you still here talking to me instead of doing anything to help?"

Thranduil froze. The insolent brat was right, why was he still wasting time?

Without another word, the king stormed out of the study, nearly running over Legolas.

"Ada, Hazel-"

"I know." He snarled, not slowing his pace as people all but flied out of the way, Legolas following closely behind him with Ithilwen.

Lady Zynia shot him a judgmental gaze as soon as he reached the Healing Wing, sending the apprentice away with a wave of her hand and leading them into Hazel's bedroom. The king couldn't help noticing the shattered mirror, which explained Hazel's wounded hand.

Thranduil approached Hazel. Even in sleep she looked distressed, her face paler than usual. Legolas lingered behind, whispering with Lady Zynia.

The king looked back and saw the two of them distracted in their talking, taking the little privacy they granted him to caress Hazel's face. His little dove. Thranduil took a soft brown lock in his fingers. He had always loved her hair.

"Will she get better soon?" The king asked, interrupting the two elves that whispered worried.

"I hope so." Lady Zynia said, looking concerned at her friend "I'll try to get her to eat something as soon as she wakes up."

The king pulled a chair, dropping in it.

"I'll make sure she does." He muttered. Thranduil would get Hazel to eat if he had to summon Elrond all the way from Rivendell.

Elrond would skin him alive. But at least he would find a way to make her get better.

Legolas and Lady Zynia exchanged a look.

"My lord" Lady Zynia approached the king, as he took Hazel's little hand in his, keeping his eyes on the sleeping elleth "My lord!" the healer insisted, and Thranduil turned to tell her to leave him alone, but as soon as he met her eyes there was a light touch on his head, and he didn't even had time to take in what she did.

Zynia turned from the sleeping elves to see the prince looking at her, his blue eyes wide with a fearful respect. Just the way she liked. Hazel, wasn't sleeping? Black her out. The king too is not sleeping? Black him out. And then smile like it won't take a week to recover from that, and people will shake in their boots, thinking that she could black the whole castle out if she wanted.

"That was..." Legolas didn't find any words to elaborate his thoughts on the elleth's trick.

"I feed on your fear." Zynia smirked.

"What do we do now?" The prince asked, ignoring her teasing.

Zynia shrugged.

"Just leave them there, I suppose. I'll have Melim and Azira on guard in case they try to kill one another when they wake up."

Legolas considered it for a moment, biting the inside of his lip.

"I can't help feeling guilty." He sighed, unhappy.

"What did you do, throw one of your famous tantrums?" The healer arched an eyebrow at the prince "Am I the only elf with an ounce of self control in this castle? You and your father make the ground shake, Hazel breaks everything she finds before her, Alyan kisses the first passing-by ellon-"

"Hey, you poured hot tea on my head!" The prince protested "Hot tea!"

"Aye, but I did it in a very stylish way." The elleth smirked once more, turning to leave the bedroom "Come, let's leave them there and pray they won't destroy the whole Healing Wing."

"Or cross their arms over their chests and refuse to talk to one another as they starve themselves." Legolas added, making the healer laugh.

"That's so Hazel." She agreed.

I woke up feeling dizzy, and tried to remember what had happened. I was talking to Zynia and then I blacked out. I breathed in, trying to force my eyes to open, and the clean smell of Mirkwood cedar filled my lungs. How I loved that scent. I smiled, reveling in the beloved scent of wood and lifted my hands to rub my eyes, or at least my right hand, since the left one was stuck in something.

I opened my eyes and was confused for a moment, as I still couldn't see a thing. Blinking a few times, I started to distinguish shades. There were the corners where the walls touched the ceiling, and I was aware of the sound of rain. Heavy rain. I looked to my right and watched the water running down the glass, as a nearby lightening illuminated the room, making a loud noise. I tried to get up to go to the window, and was reminded of my restrained left hand.

I would pay a lot just to see my face when I saw Thranduil sleeping on a chair, his head on the bed, the beautiful silver hair splayed on my bed linen.

The scent of cedar wood.

The king held my hand in an iron grip. There was no way I could get up without waking him, so I just sat on the bed, suddenly aware of my thin nightgown, as the blanket that covered me slipped down. I rushed to cover myself again, using only my right hand, as the left one was useless under Thranduil's blond head. He slept like an elfling, with a hand under his head, and he had chosen exactly the hand that held mine.

What is he doing here?

Carefully, I tried to slip my hand from his grip, wondering what time was it. It couldn't be late, since there was an ellon in the girls rooms. Did anyone know Thranduil was here? Great, now we would be the subject of heavier gossip, and this time we weren't even guilty of anything.

"Come on, let me go." I whispered, trying once more to free my hand "I have to go strangle Zynia for blacking me out." I tried to reason the sleeping king, but Thranduil didn't seem to care much about my vengeance.

I gave up on my freedom, sitting resigned on the bed. He would wake up, eventually.

This is going to be terribly awkward.

I shouldn't look at him. I should just pretend not to notice him there until he woke up and left. It would be too painful to look at the man I loved, the man that would never be mine.

I must like suffering.

I should look at him. I deserved suffering. That was the only reason why I turned my head to admire his aristocratic beauty, the silvery blond hair, always so smooth, the elegant nose and those sweet, sweet lips. My heart tightened. I missed the light of his wonderful blue eyes. Why did he had to be such a heartless bastard? My dearest Thranduil.

He stirred and I held still, not wanting to disturb his sleep. The king made himself comfortable on my hand, muttering something in Sindarin, which I could hardly comprehend. I hardly breathed, afraid of waking him, but he went on muttering in his native idiom, and I couldn't help a smile when he said something that sounded like a curse.

I was an idiot for thinking him so sweet, mumbling and cursing in his sleep. But it was not like I could do anything about it, he was really sweet.

"Meleth nín?"

I froze. From all the words in his beautiful idiom that I never learned, Thranduil had to say the two that I had. My love.

I wanted to cry, but forced myself not to, in order not to wake him. Instead, I bit my lip and breathed slow, blinking a few times to hold back the tears. Carefully, I took a lock of silvery blond hair that had fallen over his face and tucked it behind his ear.

"My love." I hardly breathed the words, afraid that any sound might disturb his sleep.

Suddenly, Thranduil grabbed my right hand and took it to his lips, looking pleased.

"My Hazel."

His sleepy words were like a knife through my heart. I loved that man more than life itself, and he said my name in his sleep. The Valar must truly hate me. I tried to slowly take my hand of his, but he held me tighter, making the cuts ache. I took advantage of my hand being so close to his lips and caressed them, in longing, earning a gentle kiss in return.

How I missed that. My heart burned and I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears. It would be hard if his breath wasn't warm on the back of my hand. As it was, it was impossible, so I let the tears run quietly, all my willpower in not making any sound. How could I ever learn to live without Thranduil, without my soulmate?

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

His voice startled me and I opened my eyes, looking into the beautiful blue jewels that eyed me with concern.

"No... you didn't." My voice was shaky.

"I think I slept." Thranduil sounded confused, and I noticed that he still hadn't let go of my hand "Lady Zynia..."

"She blacked you out." I sighed, distracted by my plans of vengeance "I'm so killing her."

"I would think both of us needed some sleep." Thranduil smirked and my heart leaped. I missed his arrogant smirks as well "What time is it?"

I shrugged, the storm didn't allow us to see the stars.

"You should probably eat something, now that you're awake." Thranduil suggested, letting go of my hand and taking an apple from the basket full of fruits that someone, probably one of the girls, had placed on my table.

"Thank you. I will." I held the apple in my hands, and kind of expected him to leave. It might be late in the night, and he was breaking rules to be here with me.

"I'm waiting." Thranduil leaned back on his chair, watching me.

I looked at the fruit in my hands and found out that I wasn't hungry at all.

"I'm not hungry now."

"You are." Thranduil narrowed his eyes at me.

I sighed with irritation. I should be hungry, which was entirely different of actually being hungry.

"I'm not." I insisted, crossing my arms over my chest.

Thranduil snatched the apple from my hand and, with a quick move, cut it in half with his dagger.

"Not you have to eat it, or else it'll turn dark and disgusting and you'll have wasted a perfectly good apple."

"Majesty-"

"Eat." Thranduil commanded, placing half the apple under my nose. I snatched the half fruit and narrowed my eyes at him.

"My lord-"

"Eat." He interrupted me again, this time shaking the other half, in order to tease me with the sweet smell. I reached for it but he quickly pulled it back. I got up from bed but the king jumped to his feet and held the apple high, out of my reach.

"Thranduil!"

We both froze, and he fixed my eyes with his intense blue gaze.

There was a long silence.

Thranduil slowly put the apple down on the table, touching my left hand so lightly that I had to look down to be sure.

"Hazel?"

I looked up into the blue heaven of his eyes.

"I know I was wrong and you don't have to forgive me, but please..."

I felt my heart heavy to see that there were tears in his eyes. I was a monster for making him so miserable. Carefully, I raised my bandaged hand to his face, wiping his tears away with the sleeve of my nightgown.

"Don't cry, my love. I can't bear to think you're sad." My own voice was shaky, as I tried not to cry, only long enough to help Thranduil.

"As long as you call me your love, I promise I'll never be sad." the king's voice was strained when he covered my hand with his, and I held my breath "Do you still love me?"

I should say no.

But I couldn't lie to him.

"Always." My own voice was merely a whisper.

The king brought his face closer to mine, and I felt my heart racing again. I had wronged him so. How could he forgive me?

"Would you take me back?" I asked, in a breath, searching into his blue eyes.

I didn't get much time to search, as he covered the distance between us with the chastest kiss. It was so good to have his lips on mine again that I couldn't stop the tears of joy that ran down my face, and I really felt like crying when he left my lips, even if he kept his face close to mine.

"Do you trust me, Hazel?" His warm breath caressed my lips and I found it hard to find my voice.

How could I ever deny my sweet golden king the one thing I always asked of him?

"Yes."

He showed his appreciation for my trust with another gentle kiss, and I felt the need to kiss him deeper, to feel his hands on my waist again, but he parted from me once more.

"Then please believe me when I say I love you."

Now it was my time to kiss him in response, and my heart fluttered in delight to feel him shivering as I buried my hands in his silver hair, reveling in that taste that I loved so.

Of course I believed him. I would agree if he said that the sky is pink, if only to kiss him again.

"I've missed you." The confession came out before I could think, and I felt embarrassed to admit so openly how weak I was.

It only lasted a second, as my confession made the king reach for my waist and my heart raced out of control to find myself once more pressed on his strong body, the hot skin of his hands burning through my thin nightgown. As our kisses grew more and more desperate I felt his touch climbing up my back to caress my neck, as Thranduil left my lips to place a hesitant kiss on my exposed shoulder, almost like he was asking for permission. That angle was so perfect for me to nibble at his earlobe.

The king made a small approving sound on my shoulder before lifting me up, and I locked my legs around him, reveling in the attention he now payed to my neck. I started to unbutton his tunic, my hands just slightly shaking, and held my breath as it slid down his back to the floor. His body was so beautiful that never any artist would manage to get it right. Also because I would kill any who tried.

I reached behind me and managed to lock the door, glad that the storm outside drowned the sound of the lock.

Gold.

I allowed myself to reach for him, just a little, and it was like looking in a mirror of my own love. How could I ever doubt him?

I didn't try to hold back my soul any longer, it was a lost battle. As our essences touched I felt the king's hand on my calf, slowly climbing up my leg, and I was instantly aware of how thin that nightgown actually was. Not thin enough for Thranduil, as I heard a tearing sound, followed by the feeling of the cool still air on my skin. The touch of his soul and his body was overwhelming, and I embraced it. I could feel everything he felt, there were no barriers, no divisions of any kind. I everything I was, he was too. There was no him, and no me anymore, there was just us.

There was the feeling of the soft mattress under my back, and hands that kept mine pinned to it, our fingers interlocked.

There was no fabric. Just skin. Soft, sensitive, scented skin.

There was just love. And lust.

Aaaand that was this week's chapter! I really hope you guys enjoyed it, if you did don't forget to review, and if you're new at court, follow and favorite to keep up with the next chapters! Next chapter, as usual, comes up next weekend. Love you guys xoxo