Hello my wooooonderful and supportive friends...that just happen to also be my readers. Sorry for the wait. I was feeling gloomy. I feel sad when I hear of other writers pilfering from my OC's and original story plots...especially when they pretended to be friends *glum face* I don't care in the slightest if anyone is inspired or uses bits and pieces of my story...completely flattered actually...that is totally cool as long as you ask me first and give me credit if you directly use something. Ya'll should know me by now, I love to chitter chat about fanfictions and I will help anyone out who earnestly asks. I love reading your fic's and helping with ideas...I'm nice...I'm just not nice if you pretended to be a reader just to get info. That's not cool bruh..so not cool! Thrandy dislikes! Also bear in mind that this is directed at no one who is actively or non actively reading this story. I'm not pointing fingers...I'm ranting.
Okay Okay...I'm fine...little rant over. Tears all dried up...I just needed a moment of writer contemplation. But I love this story too much so I had to keep writing.
Monster chapter again...sorry for that...lots of stuff going down!
Also I hear their were May Birthdays...and probably June ones too...GUYS YOU NEED TO LET ME KNOW! So I can do this...
HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY Rodidor and Raider - K...and whoever else wants a birthday shout out...here have dorwinion wine and cake...DeLacus baked it! :) I feel like we should have a birthday dedication. Woo!
Alright wonderful people do your thing...R&R...lemme know how you all like be being back with Clara?
Chapter 51
"Nana! Nana!"
"Oh my baby girl, my little princess - my light," I cry in utter relief as I watch Celairiel run to me. She weaves through the pillars that lead out to the little rock garden in the servants' quarters, and leaps into my waiting arms.
"Nana, why will they not let you come home?" She cries and burrows her face into my neck, her arms turning into a vice like grip around my shoulders; "Why is Legolas not allowed to come with me?"
"I don't know honey, I really don't know," I sob painfully as I crumple to the ground with her, and kiss her crown. "But I will not allow it, Legolas will join us soon. I promise you that!"
"They would not let me go to him Nana," Celairiel tells me with wide betrayed eyes; "They said he was to be guarded because he was to be King someday…but Nana they are wrong. I told them so; I told them Ada was to be King. I pushed them away, and I kicked them when they tried to stop me from seeing my brother. I told them Ada would hurt them if they stopped me. I told them when Ada came home he would send them away…but Nana they just laughed!"
"Who did this?" I demand, and grip her small shoulders tightly; "Who said these things to you sweetheart?"
"The elf from the council, the one who is sour faced, and the elleth Tithemes," Celairiel tells me confidently, and I quickly ascertain that she speaks of Galour and his wife. "Nana they have moved into our home, the lady came with her maids. She tried on your jewellery. I tried to stop her, I bit her and pulled her hair, but she sent me away with Ellie…so Ellie brought me here. Nana I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt her - well I did - but she shouldn't touch what doesn't belong to her."
My hand quickly flies to my throat, and I gasp when I realise the set of gems that Thranduil gave me is not there. I had taken them off and set them by my bedside to bathe. That BITCH has my necklace! That tramp! Ohhh, HOW DARE SHE?
"Nana…please don't be mad at me," Celairiel's soft little voice pulls me away from my murderous thoughts, and I quickly refocus and redirect my attention. Also, infinitely glad that I didn't launch into a tirade of swear words in front of my easily influenced child, as she peers up at me with questioning eyes tinged with a hint of dulled anger.
"No, I'm not mad," I reply calmly, and smooth her hair from her face. "Although darlin', I think we need to work on your temper. Kicking and biting is fine in this instance, but promise me you won't make it a habit? Little Princesses should be well behaved, and polite, even if they are angry."
"I promise," She chirps, and supresses a wry smirk, as I do the same.
"Why don't you go and find my old charcoals, I think Ollie still has them kept in the chest in my old room." I command my pacified daughter; "We can draw something nice for Legolas - to give to him when we see him again."
"Okay," She agrees and stands with me, eyeing me cautiously; "But what are you going to do about that lady in our house?"
"I'm going to throw her out and send her to the dungeons," I reply sharply and Celairiel grins darkly.
"Good! I don't like her, and Ada will send them faraway when he comes home," My daughter gives a confident bob of her head, before she skips off to find my old art supplies, and I stride back into the lounge to decipher this news.
"They have moved into my quarters…is this some kind of joke?" I roar as I stampede with all the ferocity of an enraged bull into the living room. Ollie is the first to my side with her arms crossed, glaring accusingly at both Elbes and Calanon.
"No…and yes," Elbes stutters and tugs at her sleeve; "We couldn't stop them; they said it was there right to acquire the assets - to ensure nothing was stolen. They tried to make it out they were taking everything into safekeeping, but my lady I do not believe them. The elleth – his wife – she lifted the jewels the Prince gave you. Your daughter saw her, Celairiel was wild and wicked with the lady, and we had to haul her away. But, I do not blame the child; it was most distressing for her."
"The white gems?" Ollie pipes up, her jaw slackening as she looks to her mother for confirmation; Gilron pales slightly and shakes her head. Gilron has arrived at Ollie's request, and she has been my rock of support ever since.
"Yes, I believe so," Elbes elaborates; "The ones my lady always wears."
"The Queens jewels!" Gilron spits vehemently and clenches her fists; "That elleth knows damn well the heritage of that necklace. That is an heirloom from Doriath; it was commissioned by Queen Melian herself. It was gift to Lassiel's family for their long years of service. They were a dear gift to her; every elleth that served under Lassiel knows this story. It is treason for her even to touch them! She is as much as claiming right to be called royalty if she wears them."
"I did not know that," I gape in disbelief at Gilron, and clutch my bear neck tighter; "Thranduil, h-he never said. He just gave them to me, flippantly, like they were nothing more than a parting gift. If I had of known I would never have left them lying so carelessly on my bedside table!"
"Oh child," Gilron chuckles sadly and comes to take my shaking hand; "He knows you, he knows you would have been terrified to wear such gems if you knew their meaning. Thranduil intended you to wear them proudly; he knew that when you returned wearing them the people would know the King had given you his favour. Oropher would have given Thranduil permission to bestow you with such a queenly gift. It was more an outward sign for us…than a personal gesture for you."
"Fat lot of good that did, now that heartless crow has them in her possession," I growl and cross my arms tightly about my chest before I begin pacing. Suddenly the events of the last time I was with Thranduil come flooding back, and the ache in my spirit tears into a searing burn that feels like it has been rubbed with acid. I bite my lip to suppress a yelp and try to remain standing tall, although my voice comes out rougher than I had expected when I speak; "They are in our home, they have our son, they are rifling through our belongings - I cannot take any more of this! I need to find those papers and take back the control, before they bring about a civil war!"
"Agreed!" Calanon pipes up – from his obscured position at the back of the room - and suddenly gestures behind him to a very familiar ellon; "Which is why I have enlisted the help of the perfect accomplice."
"Tinuben?" I balk and stare open mouthed at all of them. Timid and soft spoken Tinuben is going to save the day? I really hope the plan sounds better when Calanon articulates it, than it does in my head right now.
"Yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds Clara," Tinuben giggles nervously as if reading my thoughts; "But I am in actual fact, the only servant still able to gain access to the King's chambers. You see I keep a lot of Legolas' teaching material in there - Oropher liked to sign off on my various teaching plans, mainly history topics, he would ensure I knew my facts when I taught him about Doriath. I also help with the accounts of the Kingdom, so I know where the King archives his personal reports. I can find the documents Clara."
"Oh I would kiss you right now if that was not entirely inappropriate!" I shriek and lunge for the suddenly flustered elf and throw my arms around him; "Tinuben, you are officially a protector of the peace…do you know that? I will have Thranduil bestow lordship on you when returns, I vow it!"
"Oh…ah…there is no need," Tinuben blushes and gently but awkwardly removes himself from my embrace; "Do you really believe Thranduil is well…do you believe he will come home?"
"I don't just believe it Tinuben, I feel it," I confirm with a weary sigh as I clutch the painful site at my chest, and force my tongue to speak the truth that my heart believes and yet as the days drag on it is becomingly increasingly harder to do so; "He lives, and he grows stronger. I promise you we will hear word of his return soon."
"Then we do this in loyalty and love for our King, and his Queen," Tinuben replies as he, and everyone else in the room bows.
I sort of stand open mouthed and dazed for a few long seconds. The weight of his words and their actions seems to touch me in the midst of my anger and my grief. This is dangerous for all of them; we are basically plotting treason, although I wouldn't call it that. But we are attempting to overthrow the council and that is an offense punishable by imprisonment, or at the very worst banishment. I am chained to this room, and Tinuben would freely go in search of documents that would free me? If he gets caught, I dread to think what Galour would do to him? In my worry I glance to Ollie and Gilron, and I know as a mother how I would feel risking my child's life for another. Gilron only gives me a beaming smile, while Oliel looks proudly to her brother;
"I will help you with this Tinuben," My best friend chirps up and scurries to his side; "You will need a lookout; I can distract inquisitive eyes and ears."
"No Ollie," I warn, as I reach for her hand; "Ollie, he will know of our friendship. This is dangerous, too dangerous even for you Tinuben. I hate myself for having to ask this off any of you, you shouldn't need to put yourself at risk."
"It is not that risky," Tinuben chuckles and tilts his head to the side; "What happened to the Protector of the Peace speech? Really all I need to find is Raffyn's set of keys for the restricted library…I am sure they are bound to be in his chambers somewhere?"
"Yes I am sure of it," Ollie nods and crosses her arms; "He is – I mean was – always organized to within an inch of his existence," My friend corrects herself, and a suddenly expressive flash of grief passes over her features. It is hard to come to terms with the fact that those we speak of so fondly are no longer with us anymore.
"Organised yes, but suspicious and guarded would have been better descriptions of him," I muse aloud and begin to pace a little more aggressively than intended. "This isn't a case of lifting a set of keys from his rooms. He would have secured them, hidden in plain sight probably." I tap my chin and try to conjure up memories of evenings spent listening to Raffyn clatter about with keys and reports. Sometimes, in my early days, I would have helped him in his study. I am certain that key should be in there – but where? Dammit why couldn't I have paid more attention instead of swooning like the ridiculous child I was!
"What are you thinking Clara?" Calanon asks carefully, as Tinuben glances nervously at the door. He knows the longer we all congregate here the more likely it will be that someone will find us. Then we really will be in trouble, and questions will be asked.
"Okay!" I breathe in deeply and run my hands through my hair in a soothing motion; "Leave the key finding to Gilron and I. Elbes you take watch here, pretend you are allowing me supervised visitation to my daughter if anyone asks. Tinuben, you make sure you stay around the study and the King's private apartments. Make up whatever excuse you have to, but I doubt Galour will be too interested, he'll not expect you to be involved in anything."
"I am certain there was a compliment in that - somewhere," Tinuben purses his lips and cocks an eyebrow at me, and I smirk playfully for him.
"Gilron will get the key to Ollie, and Ollie you will get the key to your brother, understood?" I eye them all hopefully, and thankfully they all nod back. Calanon opens his mouth to ask the inevitable questions, before I cut him off with a wave of my hand; "Calanon, keep the lords distracted and give Galour whatever attention he wants to keep him preoccupied. If this goes down as I want it too, he won't have too long to bask in his own glory! I don't intend to be in the least bit merciful!"
There is a unanimous whisper of agreement throughout the room to my commands, and without another word my best friend, my healer, and my son's teacher leave. Gilron glides to my side and encircles her hand with mine. Soothingly she rubs my back, and presses a kiss to my cheek, before pulling my chin so that I look her in the eye;
"My darling Clara," She whispers in a worried tone; "Be brave now little one, this is your test of courage."
I barely smile through the angry and defeated tears, as we embrace tightly. We stay like this for a moment; for I am sure she has comforted Lassiel many times like this before. I am sure the previous Queen faced much more strife in her life than I, and I am positive Gilron recognizes a test when she sees one. Either way she is right - it is a time to be brave.
"Well we better get hunting!" I exclaim and give a little shrug of my shoulders, still working vainly to keep my shattered tears from falling freely.
"Hunting for what?"
The curious little voice pulls my attention completely, and I smile adoringly at my headstrong daughter. She stands with her hands on her hips, and her one eyebrow rose questionably – she looks so much like Thranduil when she does that. Before I can speak, Gilron interrupts;
"Celairiel we need to find a key, do you think you could help us?" She asks pleadingly, and predictably a mischievous glint lights Celairiel's eyes, but she does well to disguise her interest.
"Does this key help get that stupid lady out of my house?" Celairiel asks airily, through half lidded eyes as she toys with a strand of her hair. I can tell she is trying to weigh up the worth of this activity, and if it is much more appealing that drawing some pretty pictures for her absent brother. Both Gilron and I nod in unison, and a sly grin plays across her young features before she flicks her hair over her shoulder and chirps; "Okay, I can help."
"Excellent," Gilron claps her hands, as we rush towards Raffyn's chambers. "Between the three of us we will find that key in no time!"
xXx
Three solid hours we have searched for the chain of keys that Raffyn kept in his possession. I expected it to be difficult, but not this difficult!
Once we emptied all drawers and cabinets, Celairiel and I resorted to ripping up sofa cushions, whilst Gilron nosed through every vase and ornamental dish in sight before moving onto Raffyn's wardrobes. In my mind's eye I can clearly picture the ring of three keys Raffyn always had laced to his waist; one was for his treasury, one was for the King's apartments, and the last was for the King's private archives. They were big, clumsy, ornate keys that clinked when he walked…they shouldn't be that hard to find…why is this so difficult?
"Nana?" Celairiel taps my arm, as I sit on my knees on the floor before the large bookcase, pawing through yet another drawer. I glance up at her, and I realize tears are brimming in my eyes and her young face is drawn in anxiety at the desperation in my movements; "Nana don't be upset, we will find the key. I am very good at hunts – Legolas' told me so."
"I know you are honey," I smile, and attempt to inconspicuously wipe my eyes and nose with my sleeve; "Listen Celairiel, Nana just needs a minute to think…why don't you go help Gilron check the bedside chest, hmm?"
"Okay," She nods timorously, and retracts her hand from my arm and sighs loudly. I watch her move dejectedly across the room, her hand moving along the polished surface of the bookshelf, her fingers brushing off the hard backs of the many books housed there. My eyes follow the titles of each book as she moves by them, and suddenly I let out a shrill gasp and launch across the space to where my daughter stands by the bookcase, looking a tad alarmed.
"Books!" I yelp, and bash my head with the heel of my hand; "Of course! No one is going to look for keys in books…Celairiel you little genius!"
"What did I do?" She giggles nervously, as I start to manically trail books from their perfectly ordered shelves, searching for one that sounds hallow.
"You just give me the brightest ideas my love," I sing and ruffle her hair excitedly, as she watches me with wide eyed wonderment…or maybe just slight terror. I have to pause myself in my excitement, and think carefully – exactly what book and where would you hide a set of keys in a bookcase? I spy a line of history books – very dull, very Raffyn – but I note how they count upwards in volumes and curiously Raffyn has two copies of a "third" volume. Holding my breath, I rap my curled knuckle to the first and then its twin…bingo…the first one is clearly hallow. Slipping it out from the case I carefully unwind the leather ties and open it to reveal the hallow shell, and the set of keys! Carefully I hold them up, and breathe out a prayer of thankfulness before clutching them tightly to my chest and staring victoriously at my daughter.
"Oh Nana!" She beams, and wraps her arms around my waist; "You found them!"
"What? What did you find?" Gilron whispers shrilly as she dances in from the adjoining bedchamber, then stops mid skip to clamp her hand over her mouth to restrain a shriek of delight.
"You need to get them to Ollie…now!" I command, and she raises her hand to me before I toss her the keys.
"Wait…just wait Clara," She warns, and steadies my arm; "I will check that we are not being watched, and we need to find a way to get you back into your home, because you need to finish this not me, nor Tinuben."
"Of course," I reply and clutch the keys tighter still; "You can be assured Gilron, if I get my hands on those documents I have no intentions of quietly taking back my position!"
"Good then stay here with Celairiel, and wait for my signal," Gilron orders me for a change as she slips out the door; "After all it has been a few hours Clara, we need to know what is going on out there."
"Indeed," I nod and follow Celairiel back into the main living quarters where Ellie has kept guard, in the pretence that she is allowing mother and daughter to spend some well-deserved time together.
The three of us nervously take up position on one of the large settees by the fire, and attempt to remain calm as we wait. Celairiel crawls up my belly and rests her head on my chest, clutching a handful of hair in her hand she begs me to sing to her. Of course I oblige, and between her calming heartbeat against mine and my soft lullabies, I eventually begin to gain a sense of calm and clarity. Those documents are bound to exist, and it won't be long until I can chain up that snake and put him safely behind bars where he will no longer be a threat to my children, or my people.
In this new quiet I silently vent my frustrations and curse this war for causing the separation between Thranduil and I - for I could really use him here. The only problem is, although I know he lives, I have not the slightest notion of how he will be returned to me? What if comes home so badly damaged that he is unrecognizable to me? His fea already feels different to me, it is still him but it is changed…greatly changed. It has been seven long years, and so much has changed for us both. Everyone is expecting a reuniting of a King and his Queen. But all I want is to find my husband in the broken fragments of the elf that returns to me. Truly, this mishap with Galour and the council is nothing compared to the greater pains and anxieties of my heart, and I swear to Eru I will not hold back if I am proven right. That disgusting creature will beg at my feet for mercy, I will ensure it!
"Clara? Clara you have to come quickly?"
Gilron pokes her head around the doorway, and beckons me with a finger. I glance at the sleeping form of my daughter, who lies outstretched over my belly. I deliberate leaving her, for I am terrified of letting her out of my sight in case someone takes her from me.
"It is alright, Elbes and I will stay but you need to go…now!" Gilron proceeds to encourage me, and grasping the urgency in her voice I slip out the door.
"Where do I go, and wait…are you not coming?" I ask quietly, as she points upward.
"To the communal libraries on the second floor," Gilron whispers softly; "No you don't need me, you'll find your help there! Be quick and be careful – don't get caught."
"Yes ma'am!" I nod and sweep up the servants stairwell, with my heart in my mouth. I have no idea what I am going to find, but I sincerely hope it is Tinuben with a handful of sealed papers.
I make it to the second floor only to spy a guard stride past with a brightly glowing lamp. With a sharp inhale, I dart back behind the shadows of the stairwell and crane my neck to see if he will disappear down the left wing. Unfortunately he pauses by the entrance of the communal library, and appears to take up sentry duty there – much to my annoyance! With a muffled groan and a dull thud, I bash my head against the wrought iron baluster.
Great!
Biting my lip, I attempt to conceive another plan that will allow me to gain entrance to the libraries, without getting noticed by the armed guard. Seriously - Since when did I have to act like the burglar in my own home? I swear, when I get this sorted I am having a nice long bath and demanding a weekend to myself! This is ridiculous…
"But…I just want to play in the hallway?"
That voice! That is my boy…my little rescuer…he is in the library and that is why the doorways are being manned. I literally pop my head up over the bannister like an excitable meerkat, and crane forwards to see if I can catch a glimpse of him. Oh Gilron you genius…if I can just get his attention for a minute?
"Can I just kick my ball up and down the hallway…please? I won't leave your sight I promise," Legolas pleads with the unrelenting guard. But I hear that sweet and innocent note in his voice that ensures he manipulates any situation and after some huffing and puffing the elf relents, and I hear him scuffle about with his soft ball.
I watch silently from behind the shadow of the stairs as Legolas jogs up and down the hallway, my heart aching at the sight of him so close. It takes me all my resolve not to rip up the stairs and grab him. I have to think...I have to get his attention! Scowling, I rub my forehead and consider how to alert him without alerting the guard as well. Just as I am about to throw my hands up in exasperation, I spy the charm bracelet around my wrist and the heavy little heart stone attached to it.
Yes! That's it!
Eagerly I wrestle with the stone and the clasp until I free it from the bracelet. Leaning forward, I slip my arm through the balusters and reach up so I set the stone on the polished wood floor. I have to time this just right, but I am pretty sure my son will see the stone…he misses nothing; he'd see a flea hop off a black cat in the darkest night of winter! I crane my neck and wait until I spy him turn back to face me and kick the ball towards the stairwell. The moment he taps the ball, I push the charm so that it skids into the centre of the hallway and right into his line of vision.
I spy him pause and then pad curiously to the object to inspect. I hold my breath and cross all available fingers and toes, and pray he puts two and two together quickly. Mercifully he picks up the stone, and immediately his eyes dart to the stairwell, but then back to his custodian. Carefully he tucks the stone into his pocket, and resumes kicking his ball, and for a moment I'm confused. Did he understand my message? But I need not have worried. With an ill-timed kick Legolas launches the ball down the stairwell, and spins to alert the guard of his mistake;
"Opps, I'm sorry!" He chirps and clutches his hands innocently behind his back; "Can I go fetch it, I promise I'll come right back?"
"If you are not back up those stairs in two minutes young master, I will be forced to come find you and take you back to your chambers," The guard reminds Legolas sternly, but my son just shrugs and saunters to the stairwell.
"Okay…okay…two minutes - yes sir," He huffs and salutes as he rounds the staircase, and I slink down to the lower level so we are slightly out of earshot.
With a hop skip and a jump Legolas descends the stairs as if he has not a care in the world, but when he reaches the bottom he practically lunges into my waiting arms. He buries his face into my neck and attempts to conceal terrified sobs, so I clutch him tighter still to muffle his fear and keep him hidden;
"Sshh, don't cry," I soothe, but find I too am blubbing like an idiot, as I kiss his crown repeatedly. "Sshh, they will hear."
Legolas pulls away and glances fearfully up the stairwell, his young mind working quickly in an attempt to concoct a plan of escape. We could run, but that would cause a scene! No, we have to distract this nitwit and then find Tinuben. I scan the hallway and spy an open storage closet…it is perfectly reasonable to assume the ball rolled into the closet? If we could get him in there, we could lock him in and that would give us some time. Quickly I snatch the soft ball from the ground and toss into the dusty closet, which is no more than a servant's store. Legolas follows my gaze and suddenly his eyes light with understanding, and he grins.
"That is two minutes up young prince!" The guard bellows down the stairs, and as he does I place a finger to my lips and crouch behind the door. Legolas wipes the tears from his eyes and peers up the stairs at the descending elf. "By order of lord Galour you are not to be without protection, I cannot allow you to wander alone. If you are intent on disobeying me young sir, I will be forced to quarantine you in your chambers."
"I-I'm sorry," Legolas murmurs and points towards the open closet; "My ball rolled into the servants closet I can't find it."
I hear the guard sigh, and quickly I reach for the wooden base of the extinguished torch above me. I grasp it tightly in my hands and say a quick little prayer of forgiveness, because I do feel kind of bad about my next actions. I wait patiently until Legolas directs the irked guard to the closet and has him rummage about inside. Then I creep around the doorframe and raise my makeshift club.
"I do not have time to be looking for toys! After this you will be returning to your quarters!" The guards puffs, and as he spins around to point a warning finger at my incredibly innocent looking son, but he finds me instead and his mouth pops open.
"I'm really sorry about this," I apologize, right before I clunk him round the head with the blunt object and watch guilty as he blacks out.
"Is he going to be alright?" Legolas asks with mild concern, as he eyes the passed out elf cautiously. "We won't get into trouble for that, will we Nana?
"Oh yea, he'll be fine," I confirm with a nod, but check to make sure he is still breathing before I shut the closet door and jam it closed with a discarded chair. "Don't worry; I will have Calanon check him out later."
"What are we going to do now?" Legolas cheeps anxiously and takes my hand tightly in his.
"We find Tinuben!" I reply resolutely and brandish the set of keys I have safely tucked in my pocket, and tug him back up the stairs.
"Nana Tinuben is in the study preparing lessons, he has been for hours," Legolas reminds me, and then pulls my hand to slow me down; "You cannot get caught by Galour – he'll throw you out!"
"I'm not going to get caught," I soothe Legolas, when he pierces me with terrified eyes; "I am going to sort this once and for all, just you wait and see – and you're going to help me!"
Legolas simply nods, and I allow him to safely lead the way through our home. He carefully leads me past guards and quietly we make it into the study used for his schooling. Legolas is momentarily confused to find Tinuben missing, but one knowing smile from me and he accepts that things are well. From the study I can see the main doors into the King's private apartments, and I spy Ollie as she pretends to clean everything around them. I have to alert her that I am here, so I can get the keys to Tinuben. Legolas spies my concentration on Ollie, and suddenly he is skipping across the hall and bounding up to her with a serene little smile. They talk for a moment, and then he plays with the heart stone visibly in his hand before hopping back to me in the study. It takes Ollie all of about five seconds before she faux cleans the door handles of the study entrance.
I wave from my position wedged between the bookcase and an armchair, and she visibly sighs in exasperation. But when I wave the keys at her, she grins excitedly and flits about the room pretending to return a few books before snapping the keys from my hand and darting off to find her brother. Legolas takes up lookout duty, as he pretends to read by the doorway. Sprawling himself out on the mat he flicks impatiently through a large book covered in maps, every now and again his eyes would scan the halls and then return to the book, but not before landing on me and giving me a small upward quirk of his lips. His little gesture to let me know everything is well. After what feels like an age of being stuck behind a bookcase and an armchair I hear the approach of swift footsteps and I poke my head around the chair to ascertain if it is a friend or foe.
It is Tinuben who professionally strides into the study, pretending to be absorbed in the papers in front of him. He gives Legolas a gruff gesture, and my son jumps up from the floor and ambles into the room after his teacher, closing the doors behind him. Tinuben sits down at the desk and sets out the papers calmly, acting very much like nothing is out of place, and I listen as he and Legolas have a very brief and ordinary conversation, before he raises his head and grins like a Cheshire cat in my direction.
"You didn't?" I mouth and crawl out from behind the chair, timidly straightening up and stepping towards him, not daring to hope.
"About this lordship…do you think your majesty could pull a few strings and get me a nice embroidered tunic? Oh, or a nice set of writing quills…the expensive ones…with golden tips?" Tinuben winks, and leans over the table as I leap the distance between us and snatch the large officially sealed and signed document.
"Tinuben – for this you can have anything you want!" I confirm with an overwhelmed gasp before I tug him close and plant a kiss to his cheek. He blushes crimson and ducks his head, making Legolas giggle as he joins us by the desk.
In a flurry I open up the document and read aloud, clearly, in Oropher's own handwriting, his final wishes. There it is, written in elegant script – my name. I drop onto the nearest chair and breathe out a long sigh of relief. I could actually cry if I wasn't so bloody furious at the fact I was cheated out of this! Clearly Galour has either destroyed the public copy, or he has it under lock and key! It doesn't matter anyway, what matters is I have proof now and I am claiming my right to rule this realm in the absence of my husband – the official and only heir to the throne.
My murderous thoughts are briefly interrupted when I hear Ollie pleading with someone to not enter the study because she hasn't cleaned it, and I am pretty certain that somebody is the snake himself. The door bangs open, and of course there he stands absolutely seething, his beady eyes practically burning out of his head at my presence. Slowly I stand and clutch my freedom to my chest; I outstretch my hand and angle Legolas so he stands behind me. Tinuben rushes around the desk and comes to stand by my side, so that Legolas is carefully shielded from view.
"Seize her! Seize that wild and violent elleth before she harms another one of my servants" Galour spits and two guards appear to flank him, ready to arrest their Queen. So I can assume the elf in the closet woke up then…I couldn't have timed that better myself! His dramatic entrance has caused a stir, and both Calanon and the other noble who spoke up in my defence arrive just in time to witness me losing it.
"You lay one finger on me and imprisonment in the dungeons will be the least of your worries," I warn the two guards who approach, and suddenly they seem not so sure. "It seems we have a snake in our midst. A desperate, power hungry, and greedy little snake!" I hiss and point my finger threateningly at Galour, who suddenly pales.
"She is mad with grief…seize her before she says something she will later regret!" Galour orders again, but the two guards don't budge instead they glance anxiously at one another.
"Be silent Galour!" I shriek and he goes rigid at my tone. Calmly I stride up to Calanon and the other noble and offer them the official documentation, which they both study carefully. After a moment Calanon smirks at the sickly looking Galour, and the other noble immediately bows to me;
"Oh your majesty," He cries as his head nearly touches his knees; "Please can you forgive the council our most grievous mistake!"
"I cannot help but wonder how much the council knew of this mistake, and how much they were either threatened or cornered into agreeing to the unjust ruling of this pathetic excuse for an elf!" I bark viciously at both the stunned Galour, and the visibly quivering council lord. With a disgusted snort I come to stand toe to toe with Galour and look him dead in the eye – but he seems to have trouble doing the same for me; "Look at me Galour – Look at your Queen when she addresses you!"
"You are not my queen! Your husband is dead, and if not it won't be long I am sure…and you expect me to kneel to you – some pathetic Avari scum – I think not!" He hisses, and I come across his face with the hardest slap I believe I have ever given. The force of the blow colours his cheek a delightful red hue, and he actually stares in shock at my actions.
"You knew Oropher's last orders; you knew I was to be his regent?" I cry and feel my hands ball into fists; "You knew and you did everything in your power to prevent it. That is treason Galour – do you understand what you have done? You have poisoned the King's council and attempted to overrule his final decrees. You have just verbalized your wish to see his son -and the true heir - dead!"
"And I would do it again in a heartbeat – it should have been me!" Galour wails in my face, and stamps his foot like a petulant child. "I should have been the King the Silvan claimed not him! He was nothing but a pauper's son covered in a few yards of silk! He was not a noble by birth! Him and that bizarre wife of his – she was a kinslayer!"
The room goes so quiet that I am certain you could hear a pin drop. Dark looks start circulating between the older elves in the room, and I get the distinct impression that accusing their beloved Queen of murder is the stupidest thing Galour could have done. Instinctually I nod for Ollie to leave with Legolas, for I won't have his Grandmother disrespected in his presence. Once my son is removed from the situation, I level Galour with a cold look;
"How dare you speak lies against the House of Oropher, your wicked tongue knows no ends Galour!" I hiss icily and click my fingers for the two guards to react – which they do without complaint; "Seize this coward, and remove him from my sight…I cannot even bear to look at him! He is no friend of the Silvan, nor is he capable of loyalty to his Sovereign."
"Call me a liar if you will, but I was there! I know each and every dark secret of the House of Oropher," Galour snorts haughtily and wrestles with the guards. "Pathetic scum – I thought maybe Thranduil would learn from his father's mistakes and marry someone worthy and at least sane, but I see that he is just as pathetic and ill reared as his mother! I would rather rot in the dungeons than watch you destroy this Kingdom."
"Well if you insist," I sneer, and shove my face into his, just so I can make my point clear; "You will go to the dungeons Galour; you and your wife, and all your servants. I will have your assets frozen and your titles revoked until my husband can return and pass judgement on your crimes."
"My wife is innocent; you would not make her suffer for my crimes?" Galour suddenly pales, and his eyes fill with a dreadful panic. A look I know all too well.
"My son and daughter were innocent, but you seemed to think it was fine to hurt them," I reply calmly and inspect my nails before continuing; "After all Galour, was it not you that told me I had to watch my behaviour or else I could implicate my children further? Well, consider your little tantrum grounds enough for me to consider you and your house a threat to the peace of this Kingdom. After all I am only acting in the interest of the people – nothing personal Galour but I just don't think you have the mental capacity to take command. Wouldn't that be your expert opinion Calanon?"
"Without a doubt," Calanon nods solemnly; "The elf is greatly troubled, it would be unsafe to allow him within the public domain."
With a cold smile of victory I retract from Galour, and gesture for the guards to do their duty and ship him off. He stares wide eyed and open mouthed as he is trailed from my presence; by the look on his face I assume he wasn't expecting that. Once I am rid of his vile stench I turn curtly on the other noble elf in my presence, and he instantly shrinks from my dark glare;
"Consider the various council seats held by the remaining lords frozen until further notice," I tell the rather shaken ellon in my presence; "I need to be sure I can trust my councillors before I hold session again. Any pressing concerns can be brought to me directly, and in the interim you may continue carrying out your duties as servants of the realm."
"That is most gracious of you my lady," He mews and bows deeply again; "The council does not deserve such mercy from you."
"Maybe not," I sigh and absently turn the sleeves of my gown up; "But I am not revengeful by nature. I am reunited with my children, and my King's laws have been upheld, I see no need to cause any further pain to our people. As I informed Galour, I reserve judgment until my husband returns from the wars. He is after all the designated heir and therefore the matters of treason, and slandering of his name, are his to punish justly."
"Indeed my lady," He bows deeply again; "The council will have much to answer for on his lord's return. We have failed to protect that which was dear to him."
"Are we not all here?" I query and eye the ellon appraisingly. He nods timidly as if unsure of what I mean, so I sigh and explain my point; "The Kingdom is still standing, the children are safe and well, and the people have not suffered needlessly because of this error. I am pacified, and I am sure my husband will take this into consideration."
The elf mutters some more apologies to me, but I raise my hand and Calanon quickly shows him the exit. I may be pacified that the remaining council members did not intentional go out of their way to overthrow me, but that doesn't mean I can tolerate to be in the same room as them at the present moment.
"Oh Clara, that was tremendous," Calanon praises breathlessly and goes to clutch my hand, but I twitch away from and stalk to the doorway throwing it open with a violent force; "My lady?" He squawks and rushes to my side. "Are you well?"
I roll my eyes at the idiocy of the question – am I well? I have not been well for weeks; I am inches away from breaking something in half because I can't quite cope with this stress. The stress of an elven body, the stress of being severed from something so acutely vital to my survival, and dear gods why does every feeling and thought have to be intensified? If I was mortal I would not sense these things, I would not feel my injured mate suffer, neither would I sense the suffering and fear in my children as if it was entirely mine; nor would I feel hate, or rage, or grief so profoundly with such an all-consuming fire that it would threaten to burn up everything in my path. Elves are magnificent creatures, so blessed to feel a range of emotions so deeply and profoundly, but they spend centuries learning to explore and cage these feelings. I have only spent a handful of years in this body, and even now it continues to overwhelm me. I suppose this is why Raffyn followed me so carefully, or why Oropher was continuously so paternal over me, or why Thranduil was so innately protective of me. Even at the thought of their names, a bubble of sorrow rises up my spirit and chokes me, and I stagger into the nearest wall.
"Clara!" Calanon cries and reaches for me when my legs go from beneath me; "Tinuben send for my apprentice – tell her to bring my satchel."
"Is she alright?" Tinuben asks, his voice a tremor…or maybe my hearing is echoing out again. I feel Calanon pull me into his arms, and I squeeze my eyes shut to avoid the swimming sensation of the room.
"She is exhausted; she is fading Tinuben she cannot go on under this stress! I am still amazed she has made it this far," Calanon answers him with a slight awed tone, and I recognize that I am being carried swiftly back to my chambers, to the warmth of home and familiarity. Still part of my conscious brain fights to remain alert – I am not finished!
"Cal-Cala-non," I stutter and place one of my trembling hands on his shoulder. "P-put me down, I can walk."
"No Clara, you cannot," He whispers urgently, but I shake my head and wriggle determinedly in his arms so he has to lower me to my feet.
"I have some unfinished business," I groan as I grip my head, and use my other arm to steady myself against the nearest wall. "Send for the guards, I want all traces of Galour's servants and family rounded up and taken to the prisons. This is my home, and I will not appear like some weakling before blatant robbers!"
"Please, mellon," Calanon begs quietly and reaches for me, but I go rigid and straight when he touches me; "Clara you have expended the remnants of your fea to save Thranduil, you cannot keep exerting yourself. I do not know how to make this any plainer…you are fading."
My hand curls into a fist against the cold stone of the safe walls of my home. The perfectly smooth and polished stone, carved to appear like the swirling and ancient branches of wise old trees. They look real, they look alive, but it is just lifeless stone – dead – a perfect façade. Yes I know what Calanon says is the truth, my spirit has been slowly crumbling away since the night I departed it to Thranduil. It only seems to burn on because I force it to, because if I didn't my children would suffer at the hands of devils like Galour. But now, in the aftermath of this wholly unnecessary drama, I feel my strength ebb away from me and there is nothing I can do about it. I knew the risks when I attempted to draw back my mate from the point of death, and I suppose if Thranduil had of been closer, or if his fea had of returned to its full strength he could have sustained me, but it didn't play out like that.
I know what Calanon was hoping for; I know he was hoping that given enough peace and rest I would sustain myself for my children's sake. He was hoping that word of Thranduil's return would have reached us and I could have held out long enough for my fea to be reunited with his – the only way to heal it, to make me a whole thing again. But Galour's stunt has drained me further, and I know it has taken its toll but I am not dead yet! The last embers of my own light glow under the surface, and I've never been one to let go without a fight. Certainly I shan't be allowing that weasel Galour to have the satisfaction of tipping me over the edge. I can keep going, I can push through this, and I've been through much worse than this! If Oropher could endure decades of separation from Lassiel, I can hold out a few more months.
"Calanon!" I wheeze angrily as I twist to face him; "Just get me my guards; you can worry over the state of my fea later."
My chief healer, and chosen advisor blinks thoughtfully at me for a moment, as if trying to figure out if I am in denial or not. Mercifully he doesn't attempt to argue with me, but his lips press into a thin line and his eyes betray a sense of great worry, and I know it is aimed at me. I know if he could, he would keep me under his watchful care in the Healing Halls, but that would look bad to the people. They need to know their Queen to be is perfectly well, and anticipating the return of their new King without doubt or fear. That is my role, and I intend to fulfil it without complaint or objection.
"Yes my lady," Calanon bows deeply and without another word, he turns and speeds quickly to the main entrance, calling loudly for the guards.
Squaring my shoulders, I breathe in deeply and attempt to hold myself tall and strong. I proudly sweep open the doors to grand living space shared by my family and I, and gaze coolly over the expanse of room, maintaining an air of aloofness when I spy the unwelcomed guests.
There is much feminine shrieking, and worried whispers, as I glide into the room and straight up to the mass of ladies who are all nestled around the well stoked fireplace. I count at least six fine ladies, all lounged about on the floors or on the settees, one is draped across Oropher's armchair and I immediately glare scornfully at her. The mousy haired elleth blushes damson, and slides off the chair to join her friends on the floor. I spy copious amounts of empty and half-filled wine bottles scattered lazily about them, some have even spilled and stained the floor and cushions various shades of red. Half eaten plates of food litter the ground, as well as numerous articles of my clothing and jewellery. My anger flares viciously, and my fists tighten painfully at my sides, also I am pretty certain my face must be glowing red with rage.
"What is the meaning of this?" A fair and almost tinkling voice to my left pulls my attention from the guilty looking ellith before me. The voice belongs to a dark haired elleth, who is actually rather small for her Sindar heritage. She is pretty, but rather plain of face with no obvious distinctive features, nothing that sets her apart from the cluster of Silvan she-elves by the fire. However, one thing does catch my eye – the set of glittering white gems nestled about her throat.
My temper rolls darkly over my features, and I do not even try to conceal it because I rather enjoy the fright in Galour's wife's eyes as she begins to register her situation. My living room is suddenly filling up with stone face guards, who are ruthlessly rounding up the six ellith on the floor, and their irritating girlish squeaks of panic are what is alerting the dark haired elleth to her doom.
"This is an outrage," She gasps as two guards restrain her arms, and she levels me with a disbelieving stare; "I have done nothing to deserve this treatment, why would you treat me so despicably my lady Clara?"
"Oh save the sweet words for someone who gives a damn Tithemes," I bark, and give a sardonic grin for added effect. "You know I used to like you Tithemes, I sort of thought Galour didn't deserve you…now I see that you both completely deserve each other! You actually disgust me, do you know that?"
"I beg your pardon my lady, but if I or my husband have done something to displease you then I am truly sorry, but the law stat-"
"Pease shut up," I sigh in exasperation and stifle an exasperated, but slightly deranged laugh. "Please just do not insult my intelligence any further. Everyone now knows what you and Galour tried to do to me and to my husband…the rightful heir. Stop pretending to be innocent; it is really not classy at all. In fact I find it pathetic. So let's cut to the chase, give me back my necklace and get the hell out of my house, you trashy, low grade, gold digging, tramp!"
Tithemes mouth pops open in shock, and she gives a little offended gasp. She shrugs her arm away from the guard and allows her hand sweep to her neck, and I watch as her fingers curl around the gems. Her lip curls up into a sneer, and before either the guards, or I can stop her, she rips the necklace from her neck. The delicate chain snaps and the glittering starlit gems clatter to the stone floor, making a musical tinkling sound as they fall. There is a moment of silence before my face contorts into rage, and it takes me all my strength to not punch her in her smug pinched up little face. I have to remind myself that expending anymore unnecessary energy on the likes of her is hardly worth it, so instead I dismissively flick my hand and toss my nose in the air;
"Take her to join her husband in the dungeons, I am sure they will have plenty to discuss over the next few months." I command in a bored tone, and enjoy the look of sheer panic that fills her eyes as she dragged shrieking from my presence.
I stand in the suddenly eerie quiet of my King's vast halls, my familiar and beautiful home. The smell of fresh Pine and honey scented Sarcococca fills my nostrils, and reminds me of things that I really wish it wouldn't. My chest constricts around the mangled mess of my shrivelling heart, and I swear I can feel it crack under the strain. For a few minutes I focus on the rise and fall of my chest, calmly bringing my laboured breaths into an ordered rhythm. Once satisfied that I can trust myself not to fall apart on the spot, I force my feet to shuffle forward to the shattered mess of gems on the marble floor. Kneeling down I gently pick up each sparking jewel and cradle them close to my heart, and it is about now that I realise I am sobbing.
The more I work to squash the tears the harder they fight to push free! Angrily I bite down on my tongue and force myself not feel them, not to give them permission to fall, at least not in response to that gaggle of worthless scum. I train my gaze to focus on carefully ensuring I find all the gems and the now split chain, but it is in my searching that another pair of hands find mine pausing them briefly.
"'Tis alright Clara, I can do that," Gilron's soft voice reminds me gently, but I shake my head stubbornly.
"No, its fine," I rasp, and swallow the painful lump of a sob stuck in my dry throat. "I am fine!"
"Yes, I know you are, but let me do my job my lady," Gilron grips my wrists tightly in her long hands, and forcibly takes the broken necklace from my weak grasp. My swollen eyes flicker upwards to meet her intense gaze, and I cannot help the confused glare I give her.
"No, this isn't your job Gilron," I mumble, and yank my hand free of hers to use my rumpled sleeve to press towards the wetness of my cheeks. "No you have done enough, don't fret over me I will send for some servants to help me. You should go home to Olban, get some rest; I've asked enough of you already."
Gilron sighs softly and shakes her head so her waves of silvery blonde hair fall free of their braid. She sits back on her knees, and carefully catches the loosening strands of hair in her fine fingers before gently securing them back in place. Once this is achieved she levels me with a serious and soulful look, a look that causes me to sit back and observe her cautiously;
"My Queen," She speaks in a voice full of reverential loyalty, devoid of any familiar friendship we might share between us; "Let me do my job…let me attend you as I have done so for your predecessor."
Numbly I nod in agreement to her request, and as I do so I sort flop onto my hip and gaze disorientating at the other elleth. She called me Queen, am I that? I guess I am, but to actually hear it spoken so freely and so earnestly is entirely overwhelming. I feel my breathing begin to creep up in agitation, but it is quickly dispelled when Gilron raises me to my feet and leads me through the rooms I share with Thranduil. Swiftly she undresses me and finds me comfortable night clothes to wear, then diligently places me in a warmed bed just in time for Calanon to arrive to carry out his assessments.
I don't protest when a questionable liquid is wafted under my nose, and I drink it without complaint. The warm tonic brings with it a sensation of floating, and suddenly everything doesn't feel so important. All my questions, all my worries, and all my desires seem to flitter away and I am filled with a great need to sleep. The last thing I consciously remember is what I perceive as Gilron's hand stroking my hair from my face, and her gentle voice whispering healing words that only entice me into the safe embrace of my dreams. At least there I am free to feel and act as I wish – a place where I can paint as many pretty pictures for myself as I wish.
Sleep comes easily and passes me by quickly, it is not dreamless but the colourful images take no form. It is all just a kaleidoscope of colours, both warm and cold. It's nice to not have to decipher anything and just rest, but eventually I feel the pull of consciousness on the fringes of my fea and begrudgingly I allow myself to wake up. With a heavy flutter of eyelashes scraping against cotton pillow slips, my eyes squint involuntarily to the shafts of fierce light that are none to pleasing to my throbbing head.
"Ugh!" I whinge, as I theatrical throw my forearm over my eyes. I am completely ensnared in my bed clothes, and they are much too hot – suffocating hot – I wrestle with the sheets until I am free and I breathe in deeply. But the room is warm. Scowling I haul myself upright and stare in disbelief at the roaring fire place. A stabbing pain in my chest floors me for a moment and I wobble, throwing my arm out to balance myself I ascertain that maybe I'm not as strong as my mind thinks I am.
With a little more caution this time, I gingerly ease myself out of bed and sigh in contentment when the soles of my bare feet make contact with the cold stone floor. Carefully I rise from the bed and stagger tiredly out of the room. I don't really care what I look like, I probably look worse than a particularly frightful Banshee, but I don't know what time it is or where the children are – priorities will always be priorities.
Unfortunately I do not find Celairiel or Legolas in their beds, and that really doesn't help the intensifying pain in my chest. Rubbing my sternum absently, I roll my eyes and consider fetching slippers and a robe in order to go on a hunt for my missing kids, but my sluggishness causes me to flop unceremoniously on the nearest armchair. I note from this position that the grand communal family rooms have been cleaned and tidied to perfection, with not even a hint of their former occupants. Everything is in its place even Oropher's books are back in their position - stacked neatly by his favourite chair along with his strewn robe.
Rising weakly out of my chosen armchair I plod heavily up to his favoured seat and pick up the robe, as if I had intended to fold it up neatly, but instead I wrap myself in it and sink down to the floor. Puffing out my cheeks, I blow out a long sigh that slowly turns into a sob, and then another and another until I am crying pitifully.
"I miss you…Ada," I sniff painfully into the swathe of fabric that even covers the very tips of my toes. A bubble of grief crawls up my chest and explodes like an ugly growl from my lips, and all I can do is muffle it in the folds of the robe. This insignificant piece of material that smells like him, and in some ways feels like him; rough but soft on the inside, strong and protective against the elements, something you run to in order to find solace from the harshness of the world. What will we do now without such traits, without such strength? Thranduil is strong yes, and protective, warm even if given the right opportunities, but steadfast, unchanging even in the face of great upheaval? No, Thranduil is volatile and unstable, his reactions ruled by the whims of his nature which is wild and unfettered. He does as he wishes, and I have always loved that about him, but is that what a nation of broken people need? How is he going to cope with this, how in all of Arda am I going to rein him in and give him the anchored foundations he needs to stay focused? I am not his father; I am not wise and ancient like Oropher! Suddenly it is as if I hear an exasperated chuckle on the air, and plainly in my mind I can envision Oropher groan out a rather wearied but loving,
'Now you understand…'
I barely contain my delirious giggle. Yes, now I think I do understand. Blinking back tears and scrubbing my face with my hand, I rock my head back so it rests on the arm of the chair. Not only do I understand all of Oropher's anxieties and concerns over his son taking the crown, but I also sense why he felt it important that I grasped the significance of my position. Oropher never cared about who or what I was, he never questioned the love between Thranduil and me, but he did question my ability to be what he knew Thranduil would need…what a King would need. My mind wonders over Celebrian, the fair and almost doll like creature, so perfect and feminine. She has all the traits of a virtuous beauty, and in every way matches her mate, they suit each other so perfectly. But, there is more to her than just that. She is more than just the perfect match for Elrond; she is well breed, intelligent, immersed in the culture of leadership and politics. She wisely discerns her husband's foes from his friends, and cares for him on a more practical intuitive level. I suppose she has learnt to manipulate and control Elrond in ways that bode well for both her and the protection of the people, although I highly doubt Elrond has a penchant for stampeding head first into danger because of a whim. I also doubt the lady Celebrian has to deal with various mood swings, and erratic leaps in behaviour – I cannot imagine Elrond being quite as lively or as highly strung as my beloved.
With images of dances around fire pits, and shameful displays of overly excessive public affection, I snort back a sob and a laugh, as I shake my head fondly. I love that proud, ego-fuelled, selfish, dramatic, over-zealous, slightly weird, blonde jerk with all my small and comparably younger heart. But love and desire will not get this Kingdom back on its feet, and neither will it be what my husband needs in the long term. By whatever means possible I need to be Thranduil's foundations, I can no longer be a floundering damsel that requires his care or consideration. It has been seven years, and I have stood on my own two feet and kept this Kingdom turning in his absence. Did I think that when he returned that would be the end of my struggles? I guess in a naïve way I did, but now I realize how significantly they have grown. There will be much to do, much to change, and much to adapt. He'll need me now more than he has seen done so in the past. The injury, the teething years of our unexpected union, my past, his past – it all seems irrelevant now in the face of what is to come. So there is nothing more for me to do but to dig deep and bury my insecurity, throw away my nervous fretting, and accept the weight of duty on my barely adequate shoulders.
I am a Queen now, maybe not officially but that is only a formality, and with the acceptance of such a title I feel like a new page has turned in my bizarre and slightly dysfunctional life. A page that is entirely unwritten, with no indicators or nothing to help guide me forward. I have nothing but the tattered remains of the bond with my mate, the love of my two incredible little ones, and the unbreakable hope of a nation. I must become what Oropher believed I had it in me to be, I must become the shelter for my family and my people. I must stand firm and not relent, not once, for they need me and that is more than enough to fuel my fire, and bring strength into my weary bones.
Rising from the floor, I unwind the robe from my shoulders and fold it up neatly. Placing a kiss to the fabric, I place it back on the chair and smooth it out lovingly. I take a moment to offer up a prayer of gratitude, for I have been truly blessed to be guided and loved by such a spirit as Oropher, and my only wish is that wherever he is now, he is content and at rest;
"Someday I'll see you again," I mutter to the chair, as I wrap my arms around myself to huddle against the cool breeze in the air, my earlier flush leaving me now; "I made a vow, and I intend to keep it. One day I'll bring them all back to you, one day you'll see the fruits of your labour. The House of Oropher will be celebrated across the lands…you'll see."
A tell-tale shiver runs up my spine and I automatically shrug my shoulders in response to it, a soft breeze blows past my cheek and strands of my hair billow out past my cheek. Furrowing my eyebrows I turn towards the breath like air, timidly catching the flyaway strands with my hand and tucking them behind my ear. Before I can consider the sensation, and the prickly Goosebumps that decorate my skin, the ornate golden handle of the main arch doorway creaks downwards. My heart leaps into my mouth and I instinctively step backwards, vainly trying to get my lips to form a welcoming word.
"Who is there?" I ask in a rather shrill attempt at a commanding voice, for I hate to admit I am more than a little freaked out by the unexpected weighted presence in the air.
"Oh…Oh my lady I am so sorry I did not mean to startle you!"
I practically wilt with relief when Calanon stands in the threshold of the ornately carved oaken doors, his fingers clutching crumpled up paper almost a bit like how a hawk holds their prey. I let out a tired giggle at my silliness, and smile as welcoming as I can for him;
"Calanon…mellon nin…don't sneak up on me like that," I joke as I lop up to him, all the while watching the note he holds protectively in his claw like hands; "Calanon, how long have I been asleep, and where are the children? I don't even know what time it is? Is everything okay…you look like you could do with a seat."
I motion for Calanon to sit but he merely shakes his head, and follows my gaze to the paper in his hands. His breathing is a little laboured, like he has been running or is stressed about something. Suddenly I'm not so calm anymore as I take a step forward, my mind leaping to all sorts of terrible conclusions;
"Calanon…where is Legolas? Where is Celairiel? Is everything alright?" I repeat slowly and with a hint of a threat to my tone.
"The children are very well; Gilron took them to be with her family while you had some rest. I have already sent for them to be returned home." Calanon mumbles a little absently, as he straightens out the paper in his hand and then in an unexpected move shoves the paper under my nose. His usually placid sea green eyes are bright, almost glistening with tears, and are filled with some sort of awe or relief, I can't quite tell. I go to put my hand worriedly on his shoulder but he shakes it off before he speaks;
"Clara…it is Thranduil…he is alive…he is coming home. It is how you promised us."
And with that said he drops to his knees and grips my hand, pulling it to his downcast forehead. The swift intake of breath comes from me, and I automatically lift my free hand to my lips. My head feels so light that it nearly spins right off my shoulders…Thranduil is coming home? He is safe…and coming home! He is alright, I knew he was…I knew he wouldn't give up on us. He promised he'd come home to me if he had to crawl all the way back…we promised never to say goodbye and we never will!
"Oh my lady Queen," Calanon sobs quietly, as he lifts his gaze to meet mine and I am certain I am freely crying by this stage; "You brought our King back…all will be well now…all will be well."
I barely get my nod of agreement out before he stands and wraps me up in a tight embrace, and that's when I let go. In a moment I am in a flood of ecstatic tears, mumbling out all sorts of praises and commands to tell the whole Kingdom the wonderful news. I want a feast, and a celebration for the news of our returning warriors. I want the Healing Halls ready to receive any elves that may need care, and I want attention given to the healing gardens in time for their return. I want them all to return to their haven in the forest, I want to heal all memories of war. I want the peace they deserve.
xXx
*Several weeks later*
xXx
The afternoon sun glitters beautifully across the marble bridges that connect the King's Halls to the wider forest. Everything seems to shimmer a warm golden hue - so telling of late and lazy Greenwood summers. No clouds shadow the overhead crystal blue skies, nothing but a light breeze moves the very slightest of brush stroke wisps across the horizon. The trees barely sway, only their green leaves rustle harmoniously creating a woodland song so perfect that not even an elven voice will interrupt it to sing. The vast array of birds and peaceful forest creatures add to the majestic symphony, and I wonder inwardly are they barely aware of how sublimely perfect their timing is. Do they know of whom their melodious welcome extends to…do they know the new King has come home?
Standing by the enchanted doors of our great home in the carven rock, I quietly scan the crowds before me. The sight of many green banners lifted high fills me with an unshakeable pride. Fair elven faces all turned away to the opening gates, each and every one of them standing tall to honour their returning warriors. A silence has descended among the people as we all hold our breath in anticipation of what we might see when our army finally spills through those protective gates. I barely notice that my fingers are in tight knots when Ollie stretches out and takes my hand with hers. The both of us look to each other for calm and strength in this moment, her beautiful turquoise eyes dazzle in her heart shaped face, her perfectly dimpled smile reminding me that I should do the same. So I breathe in deeply and paint a serene smile across my face. Behind me I hear Gilron blow out a nervous sigh, and Tinuben murmurs something quietly which makes her chuckle. Calanon and Olban, along with the disgraced remnants of the council stand just slightly to my right and a few feet ahead. The noble lords should always be the first to meet their new Sovereign.
I have chosen to keep both the children out of the public eye for the moment. This is simply because they have been separated from their father for several long years. The moment of their reunion should be a private affair, without the prying eyes of the entire Kingdom watching them. I want to give Thranduil a minute to compose himself, this is surely overwhelming for him, and even more so when he sees the huge difference between the boy and the baby he left, and the youth and the child that he will meet now. No, I want that reunion to be just about family, no intrusions and no pretense, just us and what I hope to be many happy tears.
The drums suddenly sound, and the welcoming chorus of horns herald in the return of the soon to be King and his warriors. I am brought out of my thoughts with a jolt, and suddenly I am craning to see the approach of the army. My heart hammers loudly in my chest, and it takes all my self-control to instruct my feet to be still. Instead I smooth down the golden panel of my light mint dress, and continue to breathe deeply. I must not show emotion, I must remain regal and composed; I must be strong for all of them. I must, I must, I must, I…
"Thranduil?" His name comes as a whisper from my lips, because I feel him. I feel that wonderful warmth of his energy flow to me, his calling fea so beautiful and that my heart actually stutters and tightens in response. Tears prick my eyes as my toe inches forward – no I mustn't I must stay still. It is so alien and unnatural to for the elven spirit to resist its response to the call of their mate that I actually feel a little disorientated. Ollie's hand tightens around mine again, but when I look at her this time I realize she to feels the same strain, and so we both resolve to hold each other back.
When I gain composure over my senses again I turn my eyes to the approaching mass of warriors. It strikes me that so few have returned – less than I would have anticipated after my intervening with the armour. Then I realise not all of the warriors can walk, and many are being transported in crudely constructed carts or stretchers. Many of the depleted stock of horses have been put to work hauling these carts, or carrying those not fit to walk. When I don't automatically see familiar faces I begin to panic, my serene smile slowly slipping into a frantic frown. Then I see him, and my face crumples further as I turn to Ollie to steady her.
"Aradan!" She cries, and steps forward so I slide a protective arm around her waist; "My Aradan…Clara he…oh Eru no, not my Aradan!"
"It's alright Ollie, look he is able to get up without help…don't panic, it is nothing to fear." I soothe as best I can as she openly sobs.
I watch how my beloved friend, and once fearless Captain of the guard, hauls himself determinedly out of a cart with his only remaining hand. He is sallow, exhausted, much thinner than I remembered, and his once mischievous eyes are dull and hallow in his sunken face. War has been cruel to him, war has broken him, yet still he strides full of confidence towards a horse and huddle of still able guards. He pauses briefly to receive a staff of some kind from a young looking squire who appears to scuttle dutifully after him.
I crane my neck as I try to glimpse through the mess of muddy elves in worn and muddy green armour, for I can spy the familiar jet black of strong powerful legs belonging to only one horse. I am suddenly aware of Gilron - or maybe it was Tinuben - gently prying a shaken Olliel from my grasp as I step curiously towards the scene. It takes but a moment for the sound of a muffled groan of pain to reach my keen ears, and suddenly my spirit flares in acknowledgment. In a moment the group disperses and I am met with the very familiar sight of a shock of platinum hair, broad shoulders, and the most exquisite pair of deeply unfathomable silver-blue eyes I will ever have the fortune to behold.
For the briefest second Thranduil is slightly bent over, like he clutches his stomach painfully, but in a heartbeat he is standing rod straight with his face trained into a look devoid of any emotion. Yet only to the trained eye would one know that this was merely a mask, for I know my mate and I know when he is riddled with anxiety. I know by the slight downturn of his lip, the little quiver of his fingers as they tap out one ghost rhythm on the staff he holds, and I know almost certainly by how high he holds his chin - it is bravado, a sign of his inner doubt.
I watch helplessly as he is assaulted by the council and noble elves of the realm, and I barely listen as the discussion unfolds. Thranduil only answers when spoken too, just to confirm or elaborate on the facts of his father's death as retold by Aradan and the other guards. Halfway through the little official discussion I spy his eyes drift, and again my fea spikes feverishly in response to his resounding call. It is becoming increasingly difficult to stay put for it feels like my spirit is lashing about so violently, stretching itself to the obscene, in its vain attempt to finally feel the relief of completion, to be joined with the other half of itself. When I feel like I cannot be still for a second longer, nor will I be able to stop my lips from calling out my husband's name, Thranduil's gaze lands on me…and suddenly the world goes quiet.
I stand frozen to the spot, at the very top of the stairs that lead into the King's Halls…Thranduil's Halls…his city…his Kingdom. I watch as he utters something to the guards, and to the nobles that corner him. I know it must be harsh and biting, for all of them automatically separate to allow him freedom to ascend the steps towards me. Yet, not for a second do our gazes ever drift from each other's eyes. I register how my chest heaves with each quick and laboured breath, for suddenly it feels like there is no air left and I cannot breathe.
And then he is within my reach, his fingers reaching out to entwine with my quivering outstretched hands.
"Thranduil," I utter aloud, but barely for my voice is only a faint whisper; his answering smile enough to shatter my heart into a million tiny pieces.
In answer he draws one of my hands upwards to place on his left cheek. I feel like I have stopped breathing when my fingers stretch and stroke the skin there, like they always did in the past. Yes, he liked this, it brought him calm and it settled him. I watch how his smile fades, and he automatically leans into my palm as his eyes flutter closed for just the briefest of moments. When they open again, he smiles and pulls my palm to his lips to kiss briefly, and those wonderfully deep eyes of his dance with an unspoken promise to come;
"Guren linna le hervess nín," Thranduil whispers with the slightest crack in his voice, as he drops my hand to run his fingers through my hair, drawing my mass of messy waves away from my face. Softly he catches my face in both his hands, and I cannot help how my head lolls heavily into his touch. His voice is more mesmerising than my memory could ever recall, his touch so much more sensitive than any dream I could paint, and his spirit so much warmer and captivating now that distance does not separate us. In a moment his lips rest gently to my brow and completely I give into him. In a second all the pain subsides and my life's flame flares in unison with his…he is home.
All is well...All is well.
Fin
JUST KIDDING...JUST KIDDING...JUST A CLIFFY...more to come I swear.
I apologize I am feeling a little giddy tonight. Anyhoo...uber love and thank you so all the reviewers. Again I am so sorry I can never get round each of you every chapter but I'm trying to keep track. But thank you...
RoseGold1996, .104203, AkatsukiShizu3, bonecollecorgirl, Lady Mirwen, Siriania, meldisil, BirdA, Satipheen, YAYA Kitsune, .freak, Raider-K, Phoenyx634, crazykenz, DeLacus, Teddy bear 007, Areej.A.A, Muirgen79, Spriggan, TheMightyOkwaho, gossamermouse101, ladymoonscar, Lady Ravanna, PureAngelEyes, beachchick3, Legolas's Fried Potato, fireelfmaiden1, Teapot of transformation, adelphe24
MonaTheGreat: And fall to peices she does...a lot...thank you!
Guest 1: You who reviewed about Thranduil who has a silver tongue...HELL yea he does. Ain't nobody can shut it down like he can. Just nope...no talking about Clara that way. True feisty royal. Thank you so much that was a really wonderful and entertaining review...eeep! thanks!
Caribbean Passio: It was slowly prepared but I hope you like. Thank you very much that means a lot.
Arasta Arodiriel: I wish it was a published book...would make my life so much easier...I'd have it all properly bound and pretty. But nope no such luck. She is a Daddy's girl...it shall be fun to develop. Thank yoooou.
leafygreen16: I did...i'm sorry...here is more :)
MadamX: Naw...no need to thank me! I'm just doing my job :)
Guest: I have a plan right through to the fourth age you'll be glad to know. Thanks :)
Sam: Oooo he will be bitch slapped don't worry! *excited*
Caribbean Pearl: Thank you...as I said I have a plan right through to the fourth age.
Diannak: award for best emotional review...muahahahahaha I totally love your style Diannak...you make me smile! You Legend. But in all seriousness I am truly happy to hear your mum is recovered, and I'm sorry if that chapter was hard for you in anyway. But so thankful for your support!
Guest: Yea Galour's an ass! Don't worry Thranduil will lose it big time! I'm excited for that too.
natasya ivashkov: OH OH OH I HAVE MY FIRST HASHTAG...YEA #ellethsrule especially Clara #weirdchicksareawesome Thank you, these hashtags are fun. She kicked his butt!
Guest: hehe thank you
Happy reviewer: And I am happy you have joined us on this crazy story...welcome and thank you.
Guest: Good cause it's not ending any time soon :)
Guest: Nooo...well yes...but noooo! I hope I made this better :P
Love the title: Aw man *blushes* that is so sweet. Best compliment. thank you.
Asfalse: *bows humbly* thank you.
Guest: So happy I can brighten days. Your welcome.
asdfghjkl: eeeeee thanks! :)
Guest: thank you thank you thank you.
Moi: Eppp *blush* you read the lemony lemon...I know! But it felt right to do.
And to all the faves and follows...THANK YOU...MWAH!
So, who thinks Thranduil needs to return the favour and help heal our Clara *nudge* if you know what I mean? And who can't wait to see his reaction to seeing Celairiel and Legolas all growed up (sorta). Exciting...oh and at the end of the chapter Thranduil said
"My heart sings to see you again My wife."
just a nice common little elvish welcome between spouses nothing grand...but meaningful for them.
