Chapter 3 The Banquet showed up on my computer, so I don't know…

Lady Meren did not move as her husband entered their chambers. She remained seated where she was, by the window so she could see the golden sunset as she weaved together cords of equal magnificence.

Lord Thranduil's heart was heavy as he approached his lady. He laid his hands on her shoulders from behind her, but she did not respond to his touch. He then went around in front of her and gently pushed her hands down to her lap, forcing her to stop her work.

Meren refused to meet her lord's eyes.

*It is my last night here,* Thranduil said softly, his deep voice making Meren's heart pound. *Have you no comfort to give me?*

Meren rose and walked to the other side of the room. She faced the wall.

*Are you angry with me? What have I done?*

Silence.

Thranduil dared to go to his wife. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and gently whispered in her ear, *I will return. I promise.*

Then Meren turned in his arms and laid her hands on his broad, strong chest.

Thranduil could see her tears now. The water made her eyes glisten in the fading light shining through the window. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but were wiped away by her husband's rough thumbs.

*Why must you go?* Meren whispered.

*For Legolas. Our son. I will return with him.*

*But you do not have to go!*

Thranduil brought his wife closer to him and with his hand guided her head onto his shoulder.

Meren's heart broke, pushing out a few cries from her lips. Thranduil's steady beating heart calmed her, and she closed her eyes, memorizing the build and feel of her husband. *I'm sorry. A wife should not be this way. You will be gone long without the comforts of home. I'm being selfish.*

*No,* Thranduil said soothingly. *Do not say such things.*

Meren looked up into his face. *What do you want?*

Thranduil gave his wife a long, drawn out kiss. He was still very much in love with his bride. *I just want to hold you tonight.* Thranduil could tell he had made the right choice, for he could feel his wife relax a great deal in his arms.

He would miss her terribly. His wife. His lady. His joy.

~*~*~*~

Tathren watched as Sadron carefully wrote out the name of the plant on a label. As he finished, her gaze wandered to the shelves of herbs and medicines Sadron had accumulated over the years. He was a great healer and Tathren loved watching him work.

*I can't believe you aren't going to say goodbye to your father.*

*You underestimate me. I can hold a grudge for a long time.*

*That is something to be proud of?*

Tathren took the comment hard coming from Sadron.

Sadron softened when he saw that he had truly hurt Tathren. *You could at least do it for your mother. Her heart bears so much pain at present.*

*You think I bear nothing?*

*I didn't mean that. Who knows when you will see your father again?*

*I don't care if I ever see him again. I don't know how my mother lives with him.*

*Maybe she is in love.*

*With my father? He is colder than a stone. He offers no warmth.*

*How do you know that? I've seen the way he looks at your mother sometimes. He is smitten. And she is the only one who can calm him in his anger.*

*That does not mean she loves him,* Tathren argued. *It means she is a good wife.*

*Is that how you think it should be? Then why do you insist on being with me instead of Bauglir?*

Tathren stamped her foot in frustration. *Why do you always seem to be against me?*

Sadron laughed and reached out for his lady. *I know you don't always agree with your father, but I do know you love him.* Sadron gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek. *Go and see your father off.*

Tathren's mind raced. He was right. He was always right. She gave Sadron a quick hug and then ran off. She ran up the stairs that led to the top of the gate. She wasn't too late. There she stood on top of the gate watching as her father rode out from under her. Her eyes followed him until he disappeared over the hillside.

*He will be pleased to know you did this.*

Tathren turned to find her mother. She looked as though she had not gotten much sleep the previous night. Her hair was pulled simply back, but a few strands had escaped the leather band and they blew into her face at even the slightest breeze. Her eyes were sad and desperate. Tathren could tell her mother had done quite a bit of crying.

*He wanted to say good bye to you, but he is too stubborn.* A slow smile spread across Meren's lips. *That is where you get it from.*

*Is there any news of Legolas?*

Meren's eyes closed at the mention of her son, but then she looked back up to Tathren. *None. Rivendell denies our accusations. We have been left no choice.*

Tears pooled in Tathren's eyes and spilled down her cheeks without her permission.

Lady Meren reached to comfort her daughter.

*I feel so helpless…so lost,* Tathren confided to her mother, her voice breaking a couple times in her words.

Meren was crying now, too. The unexpected tears of her daughter made her work all the harder to remain strong. *It is only because you are not used to not being able to help. But you must be strong.*

*I can't do it, mother. How will I ever be a good wife? I can't just sit at home and do nothing.*

*Then this is an excellent time to practice, yes?*

*I cannot focus with father gone and Legolas missing.*

*Legolas is not missing, dear. He is in Rivendell, and soon will be home.*

Tathren nodded, hating herself for every tear she had allowed to fall.

*You must be strong,* Meren said trying to demonstrate strength in her voice. *Legolas needs your strength, as you father needs mine. When we are strong here, they are strong where they are.*

Tathren nodded, finally able to stop her tears. She knew it was just something her mother said, but yet it still managed to comfort her.

She remembered another phrase her mother used to say. A lady's strength is not determined by what she does on the battlefield, but by the hope she offers to her loved ones who are.

But there was one thing that was still on her heart that she did not feel she could share with her mother. Tathren knew well her father's battle tactics and she feared for his safety. She knew that when his rage overcame him, he did foolish things. He had nearly been killed three times before. If he died, her mother would not survive her grief. Tathren hoped against hope that he would live, but she could promise herself nothing…