*Beta'd*
Hello fair people of fanfiction and awesomely clever readers of this story. I fear I have taken on a great deal of new projects and juggling them all requires A LOT of organisation...something I clearly lack. Anyhoo my apologies...technical faults, overly ambitious writer ego, and well stuff has made this entry late.
Can I draw your attention to three things please;
1) I have started an origins story to this tale...called "To Live Again; Ghosts", so if you want to know how Oropher partied it up in Doriath and how a little Thranduil came into being...you should probably check it out. Just a thought? Totes won't be offended either way...well maybe a little...joking...kinda...just kidding *narrow eyes* *grins*
2) I CANNOT work wattpad...I'm deeply sorry for all you wonderful people who have asked to come on over to the...what could we call it...uhmm orange side? lol I lack the capacity to understand how it works. I tried to upload the story no-one read it...I then discovered I may not have added it correctly and that's why no one read it...which was a relief I actually thought no-one liked me *sniffs*...I lost patience with trying to figure out how it worked so I tossed my tablet at the nearest wall...don't worry it was padded. So for the protection of my sanity and my will to live...I shan't be attempting again...unless someone wants to teach me. But let's just say it would take some convincing...I am not amused.
3) I am working on some original work...which I intend on publishing...someday soonish. I have a plan and a dream and I'm sticking to it! So my updates may be longer than usual, but fear not! I adore this story it is my crutch when all the other stuff gets to heavy, so you will always have a To Live Again fix. Plus we are more or less moving on to the last story arc. In saying that it will probably always be open ended.
And that is my news updates for the moment...thanks and praises in the AN. Loooove you all with a passion!
Chapter 38
"Isn't she the most beautiful creature you have ever seen?"
"Look at those adorable little dimples…let me see that smile little Princess!"
"Oh my lady, just look at that smile, it could light up a room!"
I chuckle gleefully at my troop of hand maidens as they coo and gush over my clearly delighted daughter. Celairiel is sat in the middle of the garden on a heavy rug with pillows. She is now able to sit and even attempt some crawling expeditions; with quite a lot of elegance and grace, I hasten to add- particularly for her tender age of just three months. She sits comfortably and claps the ground excitedly with her pudgy little hands, giggling and gurgling in response to her many admirers, who are more than willing to give into her demands for entertainment. Oliel is of course chief of her favoured faces, and my dearest friend is now currently playing an elaborate game of peek-a-boo with the little rascal. Every single one of her delighted peals of laughter sends the ladies into fits of adoring giggles and cooing.
"You all spoil her," I chastise weightlessly, because none of them could care less what I have to say. The little elfling is far more fascinating.
"Ah, but a little one that wonderful should be spoiled," Gilron chuckles from behind me as she runs a brush through my long hair. "It is good to hear her laugh, no?"
"The best sound in the world," I confirm with a nod. It is hard to believe that for the first few weeks of her life she was weak and listless, barely being able to muster enough energy to feed at times. But those days seem long ago and far away- especially now that I see her before me, doused in light and the picture of health.
"How is Legolas coping with it all?" Gilron quietly asks and moves to kneel beside me.
"Good," I reply too quickly, and this gains a raised eyebrow from Gilron. "Well... as good as can be expected. He sometimes throws a little tantrum just to try and get more of attention off his Ada. Sometimes in the most inopportune moments, like when Celairiel is wailing and I can't get her settled."
"Torphen did the same when Oliel was born. It will just take time," she tells me with a maternal smile and clutches my hand in hers. "But what of the other matter? Has Thranduil spoken with the child yet?"
"No," I sigh and bite my lip, "But hopefully he will soon, I've encourage him to, the child deserves answers."
"It may help for him to put to rest those niggling questions," Gilron nods in agreement. "But that issue is between Thranduil and his son. Trust the Prince to make his own call on that sensitive topic."
"I do," I reply and smile out towards the horizon. "Legolas is with his Ada today, maybe they will have a good heart to heart."
"I am sure they will," she says with a bright smile, but our conversation comes to an abrupt halt when Ollie skips up to me and outstretches her hands.
"Come my lady, I need a private word?" she tells me in a sing song voice, and gives me a cheeky wink.
"A word on wedding details would that be?" I query as I let her haul me to my feet.
"Of course," she sniggers and links her arm with mine.
"Yes- well, hold on," I chuckle as I go and retrieve my daughter from the mat, ignoring her disgruntled whine at being removed from her entertainers. "We have a third companion nowadays."
"Indeed," Ollie smiles fondly and pinches Celairiel's nose, making her squeal happily. "At least I can count on one of us to show the right level of excitement." She smirks and I roll my eyes as I follow her along the well-trodden path through my colourful gardens.
It is early spring and already the colour is everywhere, everything is green again and everything is humming with the anticipation of new life. I feel quite giddy in this infectiously bright season. I feel like I am emanating the essence of spring itself because I can really truly understand the significance of the miracle of new life now. In my happiness I have taken to wearing garlands of flowers in my hair as a salute to this glorious time of year. But as of right now, Celairiel is quite taken with the flowers atop my head, stretching up to try and remove them; so I pluck a stalk of sweetpea and slip it behind her ear, which seems to please her as the three of us meander lazily around the vast grounds.
"So, I have a very important question," Ollie chirps as she dances ahead of me, eyes bright with excitement.
"Well, go on then," I encourage with a flick of my hand. "Tell me?"
"I need your expert advice," she tells me with a serious look and dips her hand into the pocket of her dress to reveal two shades of silken material: one a daring red, the other stunning blue. "I am getting married the week after next and I still cannot decide on the shade of my wedding gown. Should I be bold and be dressed in red…or be serene in blue?"
"Are you serious? You have no gown yet?" I cry in alarm and shake my head in disappointment. "Ollie, honey, you are underperforming."
"Oh, be quiet," she mutters and playfully punches my arm. "I have had a lot to organize, what with the new house and the details of the feast. I cannot do everything!"
"Okay, okay, calm down. I was teasing you! I am sure your Nana will be able to create a dream of a dress in a few hours if necessary," I chuckle in response as she rolls her eyes. "Alright… let me think." I pretend to muse over the colours, deeply examining each one and offering them to Celairiel to inspect too, but she is content to just play with the fabric, or stuff it in her mouth. However, this is just a show. I know straight away what colour I would have her wear on her wedding day.
"The blue," I say confidently. "The red is bold and you would look amazing in it; but in the blue, dearest Ollie, you would look as ethereal as the Vala Queens themselves." It is true, the icy shade would just set off her stunning, molten chocolate mane, and bring out the lovely blues in her crystal turquoise eyes.
"I thought you would say that," Ollie replies with a reluctant smile and drops her head.
"Hey, if you want to wear the red then do so," I quickly back pedal. "It is your day, do what you want. Wear muddy brown if that is what makes you happy."
"No, no, no," she chuckles. "I agree with you, and so does Nana, but I feel I should do something bold Clara. Something passionate. Do you follow me?"
"Well," I smirk as I rest my daughter on the other hip so I can eye a now scarlet Ollie more closely. "You could always make a second dress in red…as a gift…to Aradan?"
"Clara!" Ollie splutters and grows even redder, making me kink up in fits of laughter. "Clara, that is bold!"
"But it is a good idea, is it not?" I titter and she nods vigorously in agreement, before burying her face in my shoulder and letting out some nervous giggles. Celairiel joins in on the laughter and happily pats Ollie's head, gurgling excitedly when her favourite playmate lifts her head and sticks her tongue out childishly.
"I am so nervous about that act, I feel like I should make it memorable or special or something," she giggles breathlessly and returns her starry gaze to me. "Oh Clara, I feel so inept, please tell me... Will it be awkward? Will I know what to do?"
"Shhh, Ollie," I snigger as I stroke the soft tendrils of my baby's hair. I am pretty sure she cannot understand a word of our conversation, but it still feels inappropriate. She mouths an apology, but continues to look pleadingly at me. "It is a natural thing Ollie, don't over-think it, just let it happen."
I hear my own advice and I cringe, because I am a hypocrite. Here I am, telling Ollie not to worry, that it's a natural thing to join with your husband, and I can't even muster the courage to be intimate with Thranduil…Clara you big fat wuss! Thankfully though, she does not sense my uneasiness and I can brood over my anxieties in peace. Although, the joke about creating a night gown as a gift for Aradan has set light to an idea in my head. Maybe the wearing of little negligée would give me some confidence, help me feel a little more desirable, and if cut the right way it could hide a multiple of sins? Hmm... this could be a solution to my niggling problem. Or I could look like a giant walrus…eugh fetching.
"Clara, are you listening?"
"Hmm?" I mumble and am interrupted by loud and inpatient fussing, as my daughter tries to wriggle out of my arms.
"Oh, your Nana is such a dreamer, can she not see you want to go for a walk," Ollie tsks, helping her from my arms, letting her slip to the ground to support her as she tries to scramble after a butterfly that flits past her.
"I was thinking," I say with a nonchalant shrug, crouching down on the ground to beckon for Celairiel to try and walk towards me. I find it strange how fast elflings develop in their first year of life. I mean, it is the strangest thing to think that she will be walking and talking clearly before the year is out. It makes these moments so much more precious to me, because I know they will disappear in a heartbeat.
"Dare I ask what you were thinking about?" Ollie teases as she dutifully assists my determined little one make her way back to me.
"Best not to ask," I grin sheepishly, then cheer loudly when I catch my daughter in my arms, singing her praises and telling her she is the most elegant little elfling in all of Arda, which, of course, she quite enjoys.
Thankfully, Ollie does not ask, for a change, and we enjoy a good few minutes of hilarious elfling playtime. These are happy days, these are the days I live for, there is so much happiness to be found in a smile and laugh. This is what I always wanted, to be rolling around on the soft grass, barefoot and singing to my child, surrounded by my loved ones. Sometimes, I just can't believe how I lucked out, surely this is criminal to have this much fun!
I am mid-way through blowing a raspberry on Celairiel's belly - while Ollie laughs heartily from her lounged position on the grass beside me – when we are interrupted by a messenger from the King's Halls. I sit upright and smile goofily at the confused looking ellon, who looks a tad uncomfortable at finding his Princess rolling about the grass.
"Can we help you?" Ollie smirks, as she lazily lolls her head to the side to look at him. I bit my lip and duck my chin at her haughty tone. The young elf's eyes bulge out of his head and he suddenly drops into a low bow.
"Forgive me, your highness, I forgot my manners!" he cries in alarm at his mistake. At this, I just giggle cheerily and haul myself on my feet to lop towards him.
"Take no heed of my bold friend," I grin and place a hand on his shoulder. "I don't blame you for forgetting yourself; I do look a little wild don't I?"
"No my lady, of course not," he gasps and I just snigger at his completely obvious, but very thoughtful lie. He ducks his head again and blushes deeply before pushing an envelope into my hands. "This arrived for you this morning my lady, it has the seal of the golden flower and the sender has written for your urgent attention."
"The sender? Well there is only one I know that uses the seal of a golden flower," I muse aloud and frown as I tear open the letter.
"That seal is from the Lord Glorfindel is it not?" Ollie asks as she comes to stand behind me with Celairiel in her arms. I nod in response to her statement and offer my curious daughter the envelope to play with.
I quickly scan the contents of the letter, and then reread it a few times just to be sure I have absorbed the information correctly. The messenger elf and Oliel stand patiently to the side, clearly awaiting my report of the contents, but I can't say anything. I take a stabilizing breath and tentatively refold the letter, placing it in the waistband of my dress. I carefully rearrange my features into a calm mask and then look to my small audience. Ollie gives me a quizzical look, whilst the young ellon tries to remain impassive, and Celairiel just looks plain bored with the situation.
"Thank you," I say to the messenger elf, then gesture for him to leave. He bows and swiftly departs, but with no small look of confusion in his soft blue eyes, so young and innocent. I inhale a deep breath and nod my head for Ollie to follow me. She does, and all three of us march at full speed back to the lawns where my ladies wait.
"Clara, what is it? What is wrong?" Oliel whispers as she tries to keep up with my quick pace.
"Nothing you need to worry yourself about," I reply in my most soothing voice. She goes to argue, but I hold up my hand. "Ollie, just don't ask, it is nothing; just something I need to discuss with my husband."
"But…Clara you look worried?" Ollie murmurs and grasps my arm, making me pause so I turn and look at the two of them for a moment. My eyes rest on my daughter, who stares up at me with big questioning eyes, and instinctively I reach out and stroke her cheek.
"Just stay here with my daughter, and enjoy the afternoon, I've arranged for tea to be served on the lawn," I say brightly and kiss them both on the cheek, before darting back to my chair to retrieve my robes from Gilron.
I make my excuses to my ladies and encourage them to have a lovely afternoon with my precious daughter. I know I can count on her to keep them entertained and distracted for hours. I promise them I shall return as soon as possible, and give a none too pleased Celairiel a cuddle before I depart. I am fairly certain that Thranduil will be at the barracks; firstly, because that is where he spends most of his free time and secondly, because Legolas wanted to practice with his bow today. So I make my way there, and spend the whole time fussing over the hems of my cinnabar coloured robe.
The contents of Glorfindel's letter is filling me with anxiety and making my stomach churn. He tells me that the roads between Kingdoms are now perilous, open attacks by orcs and other foul creatures are a common occurrence. King Amdir, in the south,has already had his borders breached! More than once! Thankfully though it was only minor skirmishes on the fringes of his Kingdom but still, this is terrible news and the warnings are ringing clear alarm bells in my mind. It won't be long until this terror finds its way to our borders... if it is not already here. Glorfindel pleads with me to be careful and to encourage the King to increase his defenses, but it is not really Oropher who makes that call. Thranduil is the general commander of our forces; any decisions regarding our defenses are made solely by him. That is not to say the King has the final word, and technically he should, but my overly ambitious husband tends to ignore orders differently if he feels he knows better, which is regrettably often. So I hedge my bets, and decide to go to Thranduil first. I reckon he'll respond better hearing the concerns from me rather than his father, because that will surely turn into a squabble over tactics- which is something I am keen to avoid at all costs!
The barracks is a hustle and bustle of serious and stern looking elves. It doesn't matter how many times I visit this place, I am still massively intimidated by the sights and sounds. Ellith and ellyn actively engage in open combat in front of me, they never break concentration and they never misjudge a movement or shot. So I try to remain inconspicuous as I scurry through the familiar archways looking for a familiar face to point me in the right direction. Sadly I find none, so I resolve to go to the general's study; a sort of room in which Thranduil holds his meetings and engages in all matters concerning the protection of the Kingdom. I've only ever been in it a few times, and on those occasions it was just to surprise him with a meal or friendly face when he was working late. So I'm quite pleased with myself when I locate it easily. I press my ear against the oak door and make out the sound of serious voices, all engrossed in quiet conversation. I lean away from the door and quickly smooth my hair before I rap the wood briskly.
"Enter!" a cool and authoritative voice answers, and I automatically jump to do as I'm bid. It is only when I'm half way through the door that I feel my eyes boggle at how quickly I jumped to Thranduil's orders. I honestly feel sorry for those under his command; I wouldn't like to be on the receiving end of that tone of voice.
"Um…it's only me," I say quietly as I enter the cramped space. Several sets of questioning and slightly intimidating eyes land on me all at once, and I suddenly hug myself under the weight of their disapproving glances.
"Clara?" Thranduil balks and swivels around to face me from his original contemplative stance by the hearth in the far corner of the room. A brief smile plays on his lips as he takes a step towards me, but his posture changes almost instantly, a deep frown appearing on his brow; "Clara what is it? What's wrong? Is Celairiel alright?"
"No! I mean no, she is fine," I exclaim and lift my arm apologetically. Thranduil practically wilts with relief, as he leans on the round table in the centre of the room, which is covered in maps and other military related paraphernalia. "I…uh…I need to speak with you, privately?"
"Can it wait?" Thranduil answers me and gestures to the crowded room; "This may not be the best time." The handful of elves in attendance all snap their heads to their prince, then they all cautiously turn to wait for my reaction.
"Pardon?" I ask and fold my arms about my chest, raising an eyebrow about several inches up my forehead. Really? His little meeting is more important than his wife? I don't think so! I know I'm not the most articulate, but I won't be undermined in the presence of his fellow warriors. Thranduil narrows his eyes at me from across the table, but I stubbornly jut out my chin in response.
"Okay then!" I hear Aradan's familiar voice clearly in the huddle, and he rises off his seat. "Well, I think we shall adjourn this meeting for lunch, hmm?" he asks and eyes his fellow comrades with a frantic look, which I assume is for my benefit. There is an awkward pause for a moment as everyone sort of looks to Thranduil, searcnig for confirmation of that order.
"What, are you all deaf?" Thranduil snaps, flicking his hand towards the door, and again everyone sort of eyes each other questioningly, until he sighs dramatically; "Leave!"
And there we have it…there is a rumble of apologetic agreements and much scrambling as the room empties. Aradan is the last to leave and he gives me a playfull 'tut tut' and shake of his head, as he walks past. I just about manage to keep my mask of stoic resoluteness in place, but a smile does tug at the corner of my lips.
"Well?" Thranduil asks with a slightly sarcastic edge to his voice, as he glides around the table until he faces me. "You have the floor," he grins cheekily and leans back against one of the chairs, the humour in his eyes betraying his irritated expression.
"That wasn't very nice," I reply sternly and stalk up to him, then stand on my tip toes to level him with an unimpressed glower. His grin suddenly contorts into a smirk, and he boldly rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, which makes me bristle a little.
"You are very demanding meleth-nin," he sighs and pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling my face closer to his. "Now tell me, what is so urgent that it required the premature ending of my strategy meeting."
He leans into kiss me, but I jerk back and slap his shoulder in warning of his crass actions. He lets out a throaty chuckle at the extremely peeved look I give him. In my disgruntlement at his less than serious demeanor, I slink around him, but as I do, I snatch a long length of his hair, which is all neatly groomed back into a band fastened at the nape of his neck. With a strong tug, I yank him backwards and he lets out a tirade of expletives in response.
"What was that for?" he yelps and clutches his hair with the most betrayed expression on his face.
"For being an arrogant asshole!" I snap and fold my arms defiantly across my chest. "Now that I have your attention, and you are not quite so sure of yourself, I need to discuss something with you!"
"Alright, okay!" Thranduil grumbles and sinks down onto a free stool, pouting a little at his wounded pride. "I was just teasing you."
"Well don't!" I snap and scowl furiously at the dying embers of the fire. There is a long and tense moment of weighted silence, before I sigh and scrub my face with my hand. "Where is Legolas, I thought he was with you? I thought you were going to speak with him today?" I realise this question is slightly off topic, but my first priority is always the children.
"He is at the range, practicing with a senior marksman. I only left him to attend to this meeting," Thranduil replies defensively, but continues to watch me through suspiciously narrowed eyes. "I intended on taking him for a walk this afternoon, where I will speak with him. Clara is this what you disturbed my meeting for? Because I told you I would speak with him in my own time, stop pushing me!"
"I'm not pushing!" I balk at the insinuation, "I was just asking out of interest of my son! And no- actually that is not what I came to speak with you about. Believe it or not Thranduil I do have other concerns besides the kids!"
"I apologize," he tells me with a stiff expression, but holds up a hand in a peaceful gesture. The two of us engage in a slight stare off until Thranduil relents and drops his head into his hands and blows out a low, long sigh. "What is it mell nin?"
"I received word from Lord Glorfindel, his news isn't at all good," I murmur and retrieve the letter from my waistband and shove it under Thranduil's nose. He picks it up and gives me an unimpressed look, I am well aware of his lack of fondness for my friend, but I still gesture impatiently for him to read it. Eventually he complies and I wait for him to read, then reread the letter, assuming that he is reacting in much the same way I did.
"It is not exactly shocking news is it?" Thranduil mutters when he is finished and refolds the letter before handing it back to me. "We knew this would come did we not?"
"You're not concerned about this?" I ask completely gobsmacked by his lack of panic.
"About skirmishes in other lands? No, not really," he shrugs and gives me a rather blank look, he sighs when he observes my shocked expression and thankfully elaborates for me; "That is the price they pay for their actions, they brought this evil upon themselves, they let it in! Our people have no connection to this war, why should they risk their lives to mend another's mistakes?"
"Because if they don't they'll burn in the enemy's wrath anyway!" I shout and throw my arms above my head in exasperation. Yes, I can understand the suspicion and the unwillingness to assist in a war they did not start, but this is not some easily dismissible evil warlord, this is the very essence of darkness. How can he not see that this war will affect him and his people regardless of their stance?
"Burn?" Thranduil seethes as he abruptly stands to his feet and corners me, his eyes dancing with hatred. "I have already burned in the flames of the enemy! I have felt his cruelty and I have seen the brutality of his hatred! Don't speak to me of things you know nothing of Clara, you are as innocent as a child!"
I stagger back from his rabid snarling; the vicious contortion of his usually placid and beautiful features alarms me. He is suddenly dark and haunted, a look that I have not seen in him for many years, and it makes my heart sink to the very pit of my stomach. I open and close my mouth, but find no words to rectify the situation; I should not have been so callous with my words, I honestly had not expected such a reaction from him. The look of complete fright must shake him out of his temper for Thranduil's angry and shuddering breaths suddenly ease and he straightens up; a look of pure shock and remorse filling his features as he stretches out a hand and clutches my elbow, trying vainly to pull me towards him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't-" he starts to ramble and gives me a frantic look, his whole body tensing up in anxiety; "Clara, please do not fear me," he pleads quietly and continues to tug on my arm, begging for a response.
"I don't fear you," I reply in a small voice and step closer to him, allowing myself to be pulled into his arms, as he envelopes me in a tight embrace. "I worry about you," I mumble and press my hand to his left cheek, remembering the horrendous scars that are hidden beneath the faux surface of his skin. I could curse myself for being so careless with my words, our years of quiet happiness blinding me to the turmoil that still gnaws away at his fragile spirit.
"Not nearly as much as I worry over you and the children," he sighs heavily and presses his forehead to mine. He gently strokes my cheek, his features growing grave and solemn as he speaks out loud what is haunting him; "You are innocent Clara, and I would gladly take the torture of those flames a hundred times over just to keep you that way."
"I know you would," I answer him and lower my gaze, "but this isn't about just me and the children."
"That is true," Thranduil agrees and tilts my chin upwards so that I look at him again. "And you were right to warn me first, but I knew it would come to this. I have been strategically building up the defences of the borders bit by bit. Why do you think I fought to return to the guard? I am the only one with enough knowledge of the enemy to ensure the realm is kept hidden."
"You can't keep us hidden forever Thranduil," I cry and rub my temples in frustration. "The enemy will come for us, you know this."
"It won't come to that," Thranduil attempts to soothe me as he cups my cheeks in his hands. "And if it does, we will be ready for him. Nothing has breached our borders in a century, and for those that did, they met a foul end. Do not doubt the ability of the Silvan warriors to keep our lands safe, they are a ferocious and deadly people."
"I do not doubt our people," I sigh heavily and rest my head on his chest, "I just fear the danger that surrounds us. I don't want to be trapped."
"I will never allow that to happen," Thranduil promises me in a serious voice, full of confidence. I should trust that voice, but I know in my heart that this is not a promise he can ensure not to be broken. Well, I have done my bit in warning Thranduil, the rest is up to me now.
xXx
"You sent for me my lady?"
I twist my head towards the door of my study in the healing halls, and smile broadly at the familiar flame haired elleth. I gesture for Ferel to come in and take a seat at the table. She dutifully does as she is bid and patiently awaits her instructions.
"I did," I confirm and eye the several leaves of paper littered before me on my desk. "How are the children? Sleeping, I hope?"
"Yes, Celairiel is asleep and Thranduil is with Legolas," she confirms with a nod, and I blink questioningly at her.
"Should he not be sleeping?" I query and Ferel blushes a little.
"My lady, it would seem that father and son are engaged in a heartfelt discussion, I did not want to intrude," she tells me and I suddenly reach across the table and grip her hand, making her jump.
"Ferel stop calling me 'lady,' we are practically family, I'm just Clara to you," I chuckle and she nods in understanding. "But this heartfelt conversation- is this something I have instigated regarding Legolas' birth mother?"
"I think so Clara," Ferel tells me with a sympathetic look, and I nod in understanding. Oh thank the Valar, maybe our little spat spurred him on.
"And how is it going?"
"From what I heard, I believe Thranduil suffers more than the child with the memories."
I simply nod to this and vow to ensure that my husband isn't an emotional wreck by the nights end. I think he has had enough trips down memory lane tonight to last him a lifetime.
"Was that all you summoned me for?" Ferel inquires and eyes the sketches in front of me suspiciously. I smile sheepishly in response and shake my head, with a sigh I lean over the table and steeple my fingers;
"I received word from a friend that the world outside our borders is becoming more and more dangerous," I start and let my eyes drift to the paper in front of me; "Ferel, I do not want to involve Oliel in this, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't worry her. She is getting married soon and I just can't abide the thought of causing her any unnecessary heartache."
"Yes, of course, but what can I do?" the beautiful elleth questions me, her rare green eyes practically popping out of their sockets.
"You are going to help me make a few…adjustments," I say quietly and push the sketch closest to me in front of her. She timidly picks it up and studies it closely, a confused expression settling on her face, which makes me chuckle a little. "It is armour, or at least I hope that is how it appears."
"I realize it is armour, but I still don't understand?" she queries and clutches the page worriedly.
"As much as I respect the garb of the Silvan people and the cultural significance of the armour the guard wears, I feel it could be improved," I say in a business like tone. "I have done quite a considerable amount of research over the years, and it would appear that compared to our Noldorian cousins, and even the Silvan to the south, the armour we possess is not as…reinforced as I would like it to be." Ferel simply nods, so I continue my assessment; "Ferel, I am worried for our people, I want to ensure that if war ever comes to our borders, that our warriors would be well equipped to withstand the dangers they would face. It is just a small thing, but I reckon, if we can craft more chain mail and resistant type materials, and combine them with the uniforms already in circulation, then we could reduce the risk of unnecessary death and critical casualties."
"But Clara, do we have such resources?" Ferel asks and I sigh in relief that she seems to consider my idea feasible.
"Not as much as I would like," I admit as I scan the ledgers of the resources we have at our disposal for the umpteenth time. "But enough to make some improvements."
"I see," she nods and studies the sketch. "You are thinking better breastplates, and more protecting around the vulnerable points at the neck, shoulders, and groin?"
"Yes, but I'm just an artist Ferel! I want you to show this to Gilron and I want to hear her opinion on it," I instruct her. "Tell her what I have told you. I know she doesn't make armour, but she has the connections to find out for me if this is at all feasible and if it will be remotely useful."
"I agree," Ferel replies firmly and looks me dead in the eye; "I agree that we should be looking at ways to protect our warriors. You are wise Clara, you have knowledge that we do not possess. I will take these to Gilron, but I will also question my husband on the matter. Just in passing of course, as if I am just curious about the dynamics of armour. I can tell him that it is from a healer's perspective, so I would know what wounds would be common. Then maybe between the three of us, we can come up with something."
"Yes!" I nod enthusiastically, "And when we have a suitable suit of armour created, and the knowledge that we can recreate this for our army in place- then we will take it before the King and my husband for approval."
"Yes!" Ferel exclaims in agreement and stands to her feet; she meets my gaze with her own look of determination. I knew she would help me in this matter, we both have husbands that we love and would do anything to protect. "I shall go right away," she tells me and swiftly curtsies for me, and before I can say anymore, she exits the room.
I watch her disappear and then with a weary sigh, I turn to lean my weight on the table. I worriedly study the letter that rests on the centre of that table, rereading the warnings in Glorfindel's elegant script. Thranduil believes he is doing enough, and if I didn't know what I did, I would not think twice about our earlier confrontation on the matter. What I now realise, is my husband is still wounded, in mind and spirit; he'll always carry those scars with him. I can fully understand his reluctance to join any war, and I suppose part of me doesn't want him too either. I love him, and I selfishly want him to stay with me, but I have to face the hard truth. The fact is that the Silvan elves suffered the most, not because of their skill but because of their lack of experience in war. Their rustic and ill equipped armour is the first thing I can tackle. I may not be able to stop the coming evil, nor will I be able to save the people from the threat of war, but I can put measures in place to improve their chances of survival. This will be my first small step in trying to rewrite the histories that I know of.
If they can be changed at all?
xXx
I do love the quiet hours of dawn, it has a sort of contemplative quality that I can use to my advantage; to think through my disorganised thoughts. On this particularly silent morning, I pad about the bed chamber, picking up and tidying away bits and pieces of Thranduil's clothing. I don't know what time he eventually came to bed, but I know it was not that long ago. I assume that after his discussion with Legolas, he went into the woods, because I can smell the fresh pine and resin scent that still clings to his garments.
I gently place his folded tunic on top of the oak dresser, and as I do I silently appraise my husband's sleeping form, face down on our bed. He doesn't look restful at all; he looks like even his dreams are causing him anxiety, with his hands balled into fists and clamped around the sheet so tightly that the whites of his knuckles show. His troubled expression worries me, mostly because I know it is probably connected to old memories. I am certain the discussion he had with his son has triggered an avalanche of self-doubt and unnecessary guilt on his part. The horrible thing is, I fear he and I have become so out of sync in the last few months that I have failed to be a comfort to him. This upsets me, because being his comfort is something important that I feel I need to fulfill as his wife, and I feel I have in some way let him down.
I consider the distance between Thranduil and I. I should have been able to read him quicker yesterday at the barracks, but we seemed to have fallen into a pattern of mundane routine. I spend my days looking after the baby and adhering to minor duties connected with healing practices in the Kingdom, and Thranduil spends his carrying out his many roles and responsibilities as Prince. We barely see each other in the evenings, by which time Thranduil likes to be with his children, because he has not seen them all day. So the closest we ever get to conversing is to bicker over something inconsequential. Come to think of it, yesterday was the first time that we actually talked about something other than the children and it still verged on the edge of an argument. In all honesty, the problem is quite plain; we need to devote a little time to ourselves, only it's been so long, I feel awkward even instigating it. But I need to try; he needs to know I am still here for him, that we are still an inseparable pair and not just parents, but lovers- and more importantly true friends. Sadly, I am not quite sure when we will get the time to do that.
A soft whimper from the nursery alerts me to the fact that someone is awake and hungry. So I abandon my brooding and go to pacify my darling little one. I enjoy this quiet time with my daughter, just us, together, before the servants arrive and I have to split my attention one hundred different ways. I finish feeding her and take to pacing around the nursery humming quietly, as I rock her soothingly. I find myself quietly wandering back into the bedchamber just in time to see the doorknob turn ever so gently, and my lip curls upwards in response.
"Legolas, if you think for one second that you are being stealthy, you are mistaken," I whisper and then grin when a familiar fair head peeps around the doorframe and gives me an apologetic look of innocence.
"Nana?" he starts quietly and tiptoes into the room, his wide eyes carefully watching the still form of his father on the bed. "I can't sleep."
"Well neither can your sister, so you have company," I chuckle and rest Celairiel on my other hip. She gurgles happily to see her older brother and outstretches her hand to acknowledge him. Legolas gives a half smile and waves at her, making her giggle delightedly. "Alright you two, hush, Ada is still sleeping." I warn them both and gently guide Legolas into the nursery to give Thranduil some peace.
I plop back down on the pine rocking chair and beckon Legolas to come sit by my feet, which he happily does and curls into me, resting his head against my knees. I give Celairiel a small wooden rattle for her to play with, while I run my fingers through Legolas' silky soft hair.
"Sweetheart what is troubling you?" I eventually ask, sensing the sombre mood surrounding his young fae.
"Ada talked to me last night," he quietly answers me and nervously fiddles with the hem of my skirt. "About who my…um…who the lady was that had me."
"Oh?" I manage to reply in a curious voice, "And did he answer all your questions?"
"Yes, I think so," he sighs and twists around to look up at me with serious eyes. "Nana I don't think I like her very much. I think she made Ada very sad."
"Did he say that?" I query my voice dropping a little with worry. I would hope that Thranduil would have the sense to not allow his bitterness to mar his son's memories of an elleth that I am sure at one time loved him- because to think otherwise seems preposterous to me. I sense the warmth of my baby in my arms, and the instinctual and overpowering love I feel for her, and I can't imagine for one second Bregeth not feeling that way with Legolas when he was born. I can understand it frightening her, but I cannot believe for one second that she felt nothing towards her own blood.
"No, not exactly," Legolas admits shyly oblivious to the concern that I harbour as he continues; "He told me that she was a very important lady from a noble family, and that she was very strong, I think maybe she was a warrior like Ada. He said that she cared very much for me, but knew she couldn't be a good Naneth to me because she was unhappy. She did not want to live here with Ada and I, she didn't like it and it made her cry a lot. So they decided it was best if she left, so that she wouldn't make me sad. Ada told me that she wanted me to be happy and have a good Nana that would look after me properly."
"Hmm, that does sound like a wise decision," I say quietly, much relieved that Thranduil had chosen to paint Bregeth in a more flattering light. However, I am sure he has garnished the truth a tad; "But what do you think about it, and why do you think it made Ada sad?"
"Because he almost cried," Legolas replies innocently and I raise a questioning eyebrow. "He did, I saw a tear fall, but he wiped it away and said that he was fine. I know she made him sad Nana, because Ada loves the woods and he loves me and all the elves here, and she didn't try very hard at all to love us back, did she?"
"I guess not," I reply honestly and stroke his cheek as soothingly as I can. I know what he is feeling, I felt the same thing over my own mother. She obviously didn't try too hard with me either. Still, maturity brings a certain acceptance, and I would presume that my mother probably felt overwhelmed and unable to cope. Motherhood was obviously not what she wanted, and like Legolas' Naneth, it was probably easier to leave than cause any more pain.
"So no, I don't like her Nana, and I am glad that she left," he retorts angrily and thumps the ground with his fist. "I think that it was best that she went away, because now I have you, and you are my Nana, not her! You won't leave me or Celairiel, sure you won't?" Legolas suddenly asks and turns to look me deep in the eye, his little face paling at the very thought.
"Of course not!" I cry and throw my free arm around him. "Legolas do not even dream up such an absurd thought! You and your sister are the greatest gifts ever given to me, and I love and cherish you both with all my heart, you know this don't you?"
"I was just checking," Legolas admits in a fearful voice. "Sometimes you were sad before Celairiel was born, and sometimes you sing about the place you came from, I was worried that you would want to go back?"
"No Legolas, I never want to go back," I reply earnestly and inwardly chastise myself for being careless. Of course Legolas would worry, that would be a natural thing to do. So, with a warm smile, I remind my son of the facts; "Legolas, darling, I can't go back to the place I am from, because I made a choice to stay here with you. I made that choice a long time ago. You see I love you very much, and I simply will not be parted from you or your sister."
"And I love you," he cries softly and scrambles on to his feet to embrace me properly. We cuddle for a long time, and I decide to say no more on the matter. I imagine it will take Legolas some time to come to terms with this knowledge. It will be a process he will have to work through, but I think he is more capable than most to deal with it. All I can do is continue to be the Naneth he yearns for and needs, it is what he deserves. Although I do feel some form of trepidation over the future- will he want to seek out his mother? And if he does, will I become secondary to her? Those are worries I simply cannot allow to show, things that I will just have to deal with if they ever happen.
My contemplative moment with my children is interrupted by the arrival of Conien, who has come to check the fires and attend to the comforts of myself and the little ones. In the early morning she mainly just tidies and scurries about, because most of the time we are all sleeping. So, she is a little surprised to see our early morning huddle.
"My lady," she quickly acknowledges my presence with a curtsy and I simply nod in return. "May I help you with anything this morning?" she queries curiously and eyes both Legolas and a now drowsy looking Celairiel.
"Yes, actually there is," I say breezily as I stand to my feet and return my sleepy daughter to her cradle. "I think Legolas would really benefit from a nice warm mug of milk, with maybe some extra honey, do you think you could fetch some for him?" I ask and receive a delighted look from the elfling, who has a notorious sweet tooth. I grin knowingly at him for a half a second and then add; "Oh, and I think there may be some leftover walnut bread? But I am not sure where I put it?"
"I remember!" Legolas nearly shouts and receives two hushes from both Connie and I, so he drops his voice and animatedly whispers; "You returned it to the kitchens Nana, in the big pantry. I helped you. I could find it if you want?"
I share a raised eyebrow with my hand maiden, but- concealing a chuckle- nod in agreement. I know it is probably bad parenting skills to feed you kid indulgent food for breakfast, but he's had a hard night and walnut loaf with extra honey does tend to fix most things, besides it is only this once. So without another question, Legolas takes Connie's hand and the two disappear out the door, with strict orders to bring the loaf back here untouched with some milk for his Ada and I too. I turn my attention back to my daughter to find that she has happily returned to the land of dreams for a few hours. So I meander back through to our own bedchambers, and find myself perching on the edge of Thranduil's side of the bed.
I carefully stroke the strands of his platinum hair away from his face, and rub my thumb along the deep frown line etched on his brow. It wasn't my intention to wake him, but I will admit I am happy when he blinks and refocuses his confused gaze on me.
"I'm sorry," I mumble quietly and give a small guilty smile. "I didn't mean to wake you, but I couldn't help myself."
"Mhmm," he grumbles incoherently and drowsily scrubs his face with his hand, disguising a yawn as best he can. I chuckle gently because he is quite adorable when he doesn't quite have his razor sharp wits about him.
"I missed you last night," I continue and give him a concerned look. "I was worried." Thranduil doesn't answer initially, he simply rolls onto his side and props himself up on his elbow to observe me better.
"I apologize," he mutters tiredly in response and catches my hand as I stroke away some of the stray strands of his hair that have fallen into his eyes. "I just assumed you would not mind my absence," he tells me truthfully as he holds the palm of my hand to his lips.
"No, it's fine honestly," I laugh quietly, but rearrange my features into a serious mask before I continue; "Ferel told me that you spoke to Legolas, I was just concerned... that after our discussion, I might have caused you unnecessary anxiety."
"You caused me no more anxiety than I already bear," Thranduil answers me with a soft chuckle and stretches out his hand to cup my cheek. "But I will admit, I needed a few moments to gather my thoughts after divulging my memories to my son."
"He seems to have responded well," I remind him with a hopeful smile. "Or at least he didn't project any of his hurt onto you."
"No, not yet at least," Thranduil sighs and looks away to nothing in particular. "It worries me how accepting he is of my word. He never once questioned my actions on the matter; he never demanded to know why I let her leave him?"
"Why should he?" I query with a frown, and tug Thranduil by the chin so he returns his gaze to mine. "You are the one that provides for him. You are his stability and his protection; he doesn't question you because he doesn't doubt the love that you have for him. Stop beating yourself up about something you could not have changed, it is done and past."
There is a long moment of silence as Thranduil silently regards me and contemplates my statement. To my relief, with a heavy sigh and low chuckle, he eventually nods in agreement.
"You are right Clara," he tells me with a relaxed voice as he lies back on the bed. "I think I am spending too much time with my own thoughts."
"You always spend too much time with your own thoughts," I chuckle and sprawl across his chest so that our noses touch and my hair cascades over us. "Thranduil, love, I am so sorry for causing you any pain yesterday. I'm sorry for not making time for you…for us. Do you think we could escape for a little while someday soon?"
"I think we could," he grins and strains his neck so he can press his lips to mine, and with his other hand he pushes my disarray hair back behind my ear, then cradles the back of my neck, pulling me closer. When he breaks away from the gentle kiss, I return to resting my forehead against his, and he lets out a soft sigh; "I've missed this," he tells me in a whisper and I nod in agreement, because it's the truth. I don't think we've had a quiet moment to enjoy each other's company in so long, and it is nice just to draw closer to each other's fea, a comforting thing for an elf. But alas, these things are not meant to last, and I hear the distant chatter of Legolas' voice as he returns to our chambers with our early morning treat. Thranduil and I dutifully untangle ourselves, and with one last look of bittersweet understanding, we launch straight back into the constant whirl of our daily lives.
I sorta kinda love sleepy Thranduil more than awake one...*gets all dreamy eyed* Ahem...is it just me orrrr is there a little frustration between our young couple? Hmm? Might have to sort that out next chapter! XD
Anyhoo changing up this update...let's do the thanks at the bottom! Woooo...Thanks and awesome vibes too...
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Leafygreen16: Do not despair there shall be more chapters
fan: MUHAHA LOOOK WHAT YOU FOUND...I LOVE YOU! I WANT I WANT I WANT I WANT! Please tell me you bought this? Also thank you very much!
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Guest: Well I'm glad it was as real as I could make it then :)
Ambrosialily: I know right she is just the cutest little thing and with Legolas it is just nnnnawwwww. Clara/Thranduil fluff..hmm...may be A LOT of that in the next chapter...rated R and all *sniggers*
2legs2short: hahahaha yes Clara has frumpy lumps that she is not impressed with...#horrifed
Diannak: Thank you...and I do intend to be healthy...if pesky bookshelves wouldn't stop blatantly attacking me! hehehehehe glad you enjoyed it, and oooppps I apologize!
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Boom done...toodlez guys! Leave me some love...I've missed you's all and I ain't feeling so hawt at present! Y'know how it is...life and stuffs...meh...but on the upset...THE HOBBIT ISSSSS SO CLOSE! *explodes with excitement*