Findilan watched her friend, and hid a smile behind a slender hand as he lost his footing on the tree he was climbing, and fell back down to the ground. The young man looked up at her and grinned, before flopping down to sit on the leafy forest floor. The Queen sighed, and went to sit beside him.

"Why did you drag me out here?" she asked. "If it was to prove that humans have appalling agility when it comes to trees, you need not have bothered – I knew that already."

The man, Deorfel, snorted derisively, but his green eyes twinkled. He had arrived in Greenwood a month ago, after being found on the borders by Elven soldiers. He had been badly injured, near death, and if not for the skill of his healers, would surely not have survived. But he had, and whilst recovering, had been visited often by Findilan.

Many laughed to see them together, for they were a very contrasting pair. She was slender, with long fair hair that hung loosely down to her waist, and silver eyes that laughed every minute of the day. Deorfel, though, was muscular and well-built, with shoulder length hair the colour of coal. But despite their differences, and the fact that one was immortal and the other mortal, they had become very close.

The Queen bit down on her lip, and shot the man a sideways glance. "Have you...have you ever been in a position where you feel...shut out sometimes by one whom you love?" she asked slowly. When Deorfel raised an enquiring eyebrow, she waved her hand impatiently. "You know who it is that I speak of."

"King Thranduil."

Findilan sighed, but nodded. "I love him with all of my heart, and I know that he loves me, but sometimes I wish that he would lay aside his work and make time for his family. I know it is easier said than done, but it would be nice to spend more than just a few hours in the evening with him."

"He does have a lot of work," Deorfel said quietly. "His advisors help little, from what you have told me."

"I understand that, but surely it is not too much to take some time for his wife and infant son?" Findilan sighed, and rested her head in one hand. "I have all that I want from him, except one thing: time."

Deorfel was silent. Now seemed like a good time – no, the perfect time – to tell the Elven-queen his feelings. On the occasions he saw Thranduil and Findilan together, he felt ill, but now hearing all this, he wondered at the possibilities. Was there a chance that...? Yes, he would tell her everything. Right now, before he lost his nerve.

"Fin, have you ever thought that there is someone else who can give you what your husband cannot?" he asked gently.

"What are you suggesting?" Findilan replied.

Deorfel sighed, and touched a hand to the Queen's shoulder. "Thranduil has the looks, wealth and the long life. He even has a title before his name. But despite all that, he cannot give you what you want: time. You said it yourself."

"That is through no fault of his own," Findilan said sharply. "And maybe he does not give me as much time as I would like, but I have everything else I could want from him, thank you very much. Now, if you do not mind, I must return to the palace."

As the Elven-queen got to her feet and began walking away, Deorfel closed his eyes. "I love you!"

Findilan froze in her tracks, and turned slowly. "What?"

"I love you. There, it is out," Deorfel replied. "When I first laid eyes on you, my heart nearly stopped beating. I have been well enough for two weeks now, to return to my own home. Why do you think I remain here? It is because, from the moment we met, I knew that I loved you. That love only grows as each day passes."

"Why are you saying this?" Findilan breathed.

"Because it is the truth," Deorfel replied. "Coming here to Greenwood was the best thing I have ever done, because it led me to one whom I feel nothing but love and adoration for. You are all that keeps me here, Findilan."

The Queen shook her head in disbelief. "What are you saying?"

"Come away with me," Deorfel said earnestly. "You can take little Airëlus, and you can both come with me. Not only will I be able to give enough to merely satisfy you, but I will give all the time you want."

"Are you suggesting that, not only do I leave my husband, but that I take his son away from him also?" Without waiting for an answer, Findilan slapped the man across the cheek. Eyes flashing, she turned on her heel. Deorfel pulled her back, though.

"I am sorry," he said desperately. "That was wrong of me to say something like that. I know you would never take Airëlus away from Thranduil, and I know you would never leave either of them."

"I wish you had not told me this," Findilan whispered.

"But I have, and like my feelings, that cannot be changed." Deorfel took the Queen's hands, and gazed into her eyes. "You see, love is an emotion too strong to just be got rid of. You must accept that I love you, with all my heart."

"And I love Thranduil," Findilan breathed.

Deorfel smiled gently, and trailed his fingers down the Elf's smooth cheek. "I love ale, but that doesn't stop me drinking your Elvish wine when the fancy takes me." He sighed when the Queen did not laugh. "I have made a decision, and so must you. I will be leaving tomorrow, though it may be against the wishes of my heart. Change your mind, and I will stay. If not, I fear that this may be our last meeting."

"You were my friend," Findilan said softly. "I have known you for such a short space of time, but I feel as though I have known you for years. I love you. But not in the way that you claim to love me."

"Then I cannot stay," Deorfel sighed.

Tears filled Findilan's eyes, and as the man turned, she caught his arm. "Wait," she whispered. "You cannot leave."

"I must," he replied. "But you know what will keep me here."

Findilan looked up. Their eyes met, and the gaze was held for a few moments. But then she looked away. He nodded once and turned to go. But again, as before, she caught his arm and pulled him back. He raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question that did not need to be voiced.

"I cannot watch you walk away," Findilan said quietly. As she moved her face closer to his, she closed her eyes tightly. But that did not stop tears falling from under her dark lashes. They were tears of confusion. Tears of helplessness.

............................................................................................................

Queen Findilan lay in bed, with two year old Airëlus held tightly against her breast, helpless to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. Her head was filled with thoughts of what she had done with Deorfel earlier that day, and even though she tried hard to erase the vivid memories, she could not. She kept trying to convince herself that it was all a horrible nightmare, but of course, she knew otherwise.

"Nana," said Airëlus quietly, reaching up and touching her cheek. When his tiny hand came away damp, he blinked in surprise. "Nana!"

"Yes," Findilan whispered. She buried her face against the baby, and sighed, breathing in his sweet smell. "Oh Airëlus, if only you knew what I have done. Maybe one day you will. I wonder what you will think of me then."

The infant Prince pulled some strands of his mother's fair hair into his mouth, and started sucking at them. Why he enjoyed chewing other people's hair, no-one knew. Still, he was only a baby, and there was plenty of time for him to grow out of this particular habit.

"You do not know what I am telling you," Findilan said quietly. "But it is nice, knowing that you will not judge me, or think any less of me." Her son's face remained impassive.

Just then, the oak doors to the chamber opened, and King Thranduil came in. He had already discarded his formal robes – he didn't really like them anyway, but his advisors fussed if he did not look the part as well as act it. Findilan swiftly wiped at her eyes, and when she looked up at the other Elf, she managed to smile. Though, it was hard.

"You are earlier than normal," she said softly.

"Yes. I was trying to properly word a letter, but I lost interest, so I left my advisors to do it." Thranduil shook his head slightly. "I am sure they will get me back tomorrow, with lots more work."

"Was it an important letter?" Findilan asked.

The King shook his head, and sat on the edge of the bed. He smiled as Airëlus crawled into his arms. "No, it was not. You know, if there is one bad thing about having my father's councillors to aide me, it is that they still look on me as though I am but a child."

"Why, what did they say this time?"

Thranduil shrugged as he un-did the clasps on his outer tunic. "The same as usual: concentrate on the task in hand; don't let your attention wander; you should spend more time on this work; you-

"Do you think that taking the advice of those councillors is always such a good idea?"

The Elven-king looked up, surprised at the edge to his wife's voice. "Well, they...they help me, Fin. My father tried to prepare me for this, but I never expected it to come so soon. Consequently, I listened to very little of what I was taught about ruling a kingdom. I did not think I would come back from the Last Alliance with one less parent. But I did. And I was thrown in at the deep end. Even now, a few years later, I still find the work too much at times."

"I know you do," Findilan replied.

Thranduil put Airëlus down on the bed so he could pull his tunic off. He dropped it next to the child, though it quickly ended up on the floor. "Thank you," he muttered, picking it up and throwing it once more onto the bed.

"No!" Airëlus giggled as he pushed the tunic back down onto the floor.

"You are always a help," Thranduil said, shaking his head.

Again, he picked it up and dropped it onto the bed. Airëlus smiled and threw it across the room. But the Elven-king caught it, and deposited it on his son's head. Findilan laughed quietly, though her heart was not in it, as the Elfling struggled to get free. She sighed, and turned her head away.

"Are you alright?" Thranduil asked softly.

Tears instantly filled her eyes as she heard the concern in his voice, but she nodded vaguely. "I am fine, just a little tired." She looked back, and nodded towards Airëlus. "Now, are you going to rescue your son, or not?"

"No, I thought he could stay in there," Thranduil replied.

Both Elves laughed as there was a small cry of protest from inside the tunic. Airëlus certainly did not say very much, but he understood more than he let on. Smiling, Thranduil took pity on the child, and rescued him. The little Prince smiled, and tugged on his father's hair.

"Thank you Ada," he whispered.

Thranduil nodded, and watched his son crawl under the bed covers. "I suppose he is sleeping in here tonight? Fair enough."

As the Elven-king put out the lamp and also got into bed, Findilan propped herself up on one elbow and said quietly, "Can I ask you a question? You may think it ridiculous, but I still want to ask. Do you...do you love me?"

Thranduil's head snapped up again even before it had touched the pillows. In the darkness, his eyes flashed in disbelief. "Of course I think it is a ridiculous thing to ask" Why should you even need to think something like that?"

"Do you?" Findilan pressed.

"Yes, with all my heart." Thranduil sounded amazed, and he looked it, too. "I love you, Fin. I always will."

The Elven-queen nodded, and reached across Airëlus' small body to hug her husband. Burying her face in his chest, she whispered, "I just wanted to hear you say the words. I love you too, no matter what happens."

............................................................................................................

A few weeks had passed since the night when Queen Findilan had asked – in Thranduil's eyes – the most unnecessary question to ever leave her lips. The Elven-king was lying on his bed, glad to finally have a much needed break from his councillors, who had decided that today was the day to try and drive him to insanity by their constant bickering.

Just when he was contemplating going back to see if any of the advisors had begun killing each other in his absence, there was a shuffling noise from out in the corridor. His eyes narrowed slightly as a piece of folded parchment was passed under the gap between the door and the floor.

Wondering who could possibly have the audacity to do something like that outside the Royal Family's private rooms, Thranduil got off the bed and went to pick the note up. He recognised the curling script to be that of the human. What was his name? Ah, Deorfel, that was it.

As the Elven-king began to read, he did not even think about what he might find out.

............................................................................................................

Queen Findilan pushed open her chamber doors, and blinked in surprise when she saw who was in there. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a meeting to attend."

"I did," Thranduil nodded. "But I have a letter for you. I thought it might be something important."

"Oh?" Findilan took the parchment from her husband's hand, and glanced down. She recognised the script, and her heart sped as fear washed over her.

"Are you not going to read it?" Thranduil asked softly.

The Queen looked up and smiled, though her mouth was dry, and she was sure that the heat rising on her face would give her away. "I am sure it is nothing important. I can read it later."

"Ah, but I think you should know what it says." Without waiting for a reply, Thranduil pulled the letter back, and flipped it open. His hands shook as he began reading out loud, but he managed to keep his voice steady.

Findilan,

I know I am taking a risk doing this, but I must see you. Now that I am apart from you, my heart is sore, and it was only when we were together that I could be at ease. Maybe you do not feel the same, but just having your lips against mine was enough. Will you come to my chamber? Please, do not keep me waiting.

Deorfel

Findilan slowly raised one hand to her mouth, and tried to still her heavy breathing. He knew. Thranduil knew everything. But she did not care what the consequences for herself could be. She knew that she deserved whatever she got. Tears filled her eyes, and a few escaped.

"Why?" Thranduil asked in a low voice. "How could you do something like this? I...I don't understand."

That was too much for Findilan. She sank down onto the bed, and rested her head in her hands as she sobbed, "I am sorry. I am so sorry."

"Don't!" Thranduil spat. "I did not ask to hear an apology! All I want to know is why you have betrayed me. We are bound, Findilan, for ever. Did our love mean so little to you?"

"It wasn't like that," the Queen whispered.

"Oh, so you are just an innocent victim," Thranduil nodded as though in understanding.

Findilan took a deep breath to try and calm herself. "He was going to leave. I was afraid to let him go. He was my friend."

"So you decided to throw yourself at him?" The Elven-king swiped at his glistening eyes, and sat in a chair opposite the bed. "Not one of your best ideas, but still."

"I deserve nothing from you," Findilan said quietly. "But will you hear me out?"

"Speak."

The Queen drew in another breath, preparing herself. "I...I found a friend in Deorfel. The only company I had during the day was little Airëlus, and although I love him dearly, I wanted someone whom I could hold a conversation with. And then Deorfel came along."

"It looks to me like you found more than friendship in him," Thranduil said coldly.

"He made me feel special, because he was always there for me, never having to rush off to do any work. He was never busy, and had so much time." Findilan dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "You see, I was not used to that. When he told me he would be leaving, I was afraid. Afraid that I would be loosing a close friend."

Thranduil snapped his eyes up, and nodded slowly. "Now I understand. It is because of me that you did this. It is because I could not give you the time of day. But I still do not understand. Why could you not have told me?"

"I was afraid you would feel that it would get in the way of your work." Findilan flinched as the other Elf's eyes flashed. "But I wish I had spoken to you. I never wanted this. If I could turn back time-

"You can't!" Thranduil snapped. "What's done is done, and no matter how much either of us want to re-write the past, we cannot."

Findilan stood, and looked down at the Elven-king. "What happens now? You must hate me, and I do not blame you. I will go. It will be easier for you if I am not here, even though it will pain me to leave."

As his wife turned, Thranduil reached up and caught her hand. "You were never alone, Fin. Never. I know I have precious little time in the day, but all you had to do was tell me how you felt. I would have done something about it. Do you really think you mean so little to me?"

"Do you want me to leave?" Findilan whispered.

Thranduil paused for a moment, before standing also. "I never dreamed anything like this would ever happen. But it has. How am I supposed to get through it without you? And what of Airëlus? He needs both of us."

"But I thought..."

"When first I read the letter, I was angry," Thranduil said. "But now I know that you did this for a reason. I love you. But the question is, do you still love me?"

"I never stopped loving you," Findilan breathed.

Thranduil visibly relaxed, and he closed his eyes as he pulled the Queen close to him. He really had been afraid for a few horrible minutes – afraid that all the love they shared had been fading right in front of him. Exhaling deeply, he moved away slightly, preparing himself for what he had to do next.

"Where are you going?" Findilan asked.

"To see Deorfel."

"And what...what will you do?"

Thranduil tried to ignore the trembling of his wife's voice, as he calmly replied, "I will do what I must."

............................................................................................................

Deorfel lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. What he and Findilan had done, was wrong. He knew that. What he also knew, was that no matter how much he loved the Elven-queen, the feelings were not returned. She had only done what she had, to save her friendship. Yet in doing so, had put her marriage at risk.

"But I love her," the man murmured. "Feelings like this cannot be forgotten."

As there came a knock on the door, Deorfel sat up and smiled. It was her. She must have read his letter and come straight here, to his chamber. But, when he went across and went to let her in, he got a shock. It was not Queen Findilan – it was King Thranduil.

"My...my Lord," Deorfel said in surprise.

"Good afternoon," the Elf nodded. "May I come in? Or are you busy? Or maybe expecting someone?"

"No, not at all." Deorfel stepped back a little, to allow Thranduil in. He closed the door and waited for a moment before turning around. He began to say "what can I help you with?" but was cut off mid-sentence as a fist slammed into the side of his head.

Thranduil smiled in grim satisfaction as the man was sent flying into the wall. As Deorfel groaned, the Elven-king stepped forwards and grabbed the front of his shirt, only to pull him back up and throw him to the opposite side of the wall. Again, the mortal crashed into the wall, and he sank down it until he was sitting on the floor.

"Did you really think you would not be found out?" Thranduil hissed.

"What have you done to Findilan?" Deorfel coughed, holding a hand to his chest.

The Elf's eyes flashed in anger. "You think I would do something like this to her? How dare you? I love her, which is more than can be said for you. I know what you did."

"I had to have her," Deorfel spat, and his green eyes glinted. "I love her too much. If I did not have her, then-

"Your lust would be unsatisfied," Thranduil sneered, turning away from the man. "It was not love – it was merely an infatuation."

Deorfel snarled in rage, and leaped to his feet to pull the King back around to face him. His arm shot out, but Thranduil had anticipated this. He grabbed his wrist, and pushed him away again. Green eyes locked onto blue, and the animosity in the room was so evident, it was almost painful.

"It was not an infatuation," Deorfel snapped.

"But if it was, you would not have bribed her," Thranduil replied. "You would have respected all that she said to you, and you would have left her."

"Where she would be alone, deserted by you," Deorfel retorted.

If he expected a reaction, he did not get one. The Elven-king merely shook his head slightly. "I pity you. All this time, you have been thinking that she was alone. She wasn't – you were. What family do you have? What friends? You had no-one until her, and she made you feel wanted. Would you really have been able to walk away? Could you have left, even if she had refused to give herself to you?"

The man hesitated for a moment, but then shook his head once. "No."

Thranduil was silent, and he sighed deeply. "You are banished from Greenwood, Deorfel, under pain of death. If you are caught in my Realm, you will be killed without hesitation. Never have I done something like this, and I wish I did not have to start now. But there is no other way."

"What of Findilan?" Deorfel hissed.

"She will respect my decision," Thranduil replied. "That's love."

............................................................................................................

Two long weeks had gone by since that day. And although Findilan did respect her husband's decision, it had not prevented her from shedding a few tears upon finding out. She was still trying to re-build her life with Thranduil, though it was hard. Tense silences often lay in the air, and even little Airëlus had begun to sense that something was wrong.

The three of them were in the family room at this moment in time. The King and Queen sat on the floor, watching their baby closely. He could walk without help, but if he got too excited, it was not rare for him to trip over. He was currently walking from Thranduil to Findilan, to Thranduil and back to Findilan. He had been doing it for half an hour, and every time he stopped in front of them, he would either say "hello Ada" or "hello Nana", without fail.

"He is never tired," Findilan said softly.

"He will wear himself out eventually," Thranduil replied.

The Queen nodded slowly, contemplating, as she watched her husband and son. She did not miss Deorfel – at least, she did not miss the way things had been in the final weeks with him. But she did miss the friendship they had previously had. Still, she was glad that an end had been put to it, and she knew that Thranduil finding out had been for the best.

There was a knock on the door just then, and the King looked up in surprise. He had told all of his councillors not to disturb him today. Sighing, he picked up Airëlus – who was chewing on his hair – and went across to see whoever it was outside. It was a guard, and he looked more than unhappy.

"Your Highness, I am sorry to disturb you, but-

"Hello Elf," Airëlus giggled.

"Hush," Thranduil chided, shooting his son a sharp look. He glanced back up at the guard then, and nodded. "Go on."

"Your Highness, you are needed outside," the other Elf said quietly. "It is a matter of great urgency."

Inside the room, Findilan was listening closely. When she heard the word 'edan', her blood ran cold. Deorfel. It had to be him. But that meant... She looked up as her husband hissed in anger. The next thing she knew, Airëlus was being passed into her arms, and she was being told to stay inside.

"Thranduil..."

The Elven-king turned, and shook his head. "No. He knew. He knew what would happen if he was found here."

Findilan breathed out deeply as she and Airëlus were left alone. Deorfel was going to die. And how did that make her feel? She didn't know, she really didn't. But there were tears in her eyes, and she was not afraid to let them fall.

When King Thranduil re-entered the room some fifteen minutes later, he was not particularly surprised to see that the Queen was crying. She looked up, and their eyes met. Findilan took a deep breath, before whispering, "Is he...?"

Thranduil merely nodded once. "Yes. He is."

............................................................................................................

Thranduil rested his arms on his desk as he watched his little son playing on the floor. It was mid-evening, and Airëlus refused to go to bed until his mother was home. Findilan had gone out riding that afternoon, and had not yet come back. Needless to say the King was worried.

Just when he was contemplating going out to search for her, the door opened, and the Queen came in. Airëlus made a noise of delight and crawled across the room to be picked up. But Findilan shook her head, and sank into a chair at the far side of the room. Her face was pale.

"Has something happened?" Thranduil asked carefully.

"Yes," Findilan whispered. "I have some news."

The Elven-king felt his heart speed up as he was overcome with fear. But he managed to keep his voice calm. "What is it?"

"I...I am with child."

In that moment, Thranduil forgot all about what had happened with Deorfel. "Another baby?" he breathed, and his eyes sparkled with joy.

"Yes, but-

"I know it is not what we planned, but it doesn't matter." Thranduil laughed, and jumped across the room to hug his wife. "Fin, are you really expecting another child? Are you sure?"

"I am sure, but-

Thranduil laughed in delight, and looked down at his confused son. "Did you hear that, Airëlus? You will have a baby brother or sister to play with" Oh, this is perfect! Have you thought of any names yet? When did you find out? Do you think it is a boy or girl? We have to-

"The baby isn't yours!"

The Elven-king drew in a sharp breath, and stared at his wife in horror. "What do you mean? How can it not be mine?" But then realisation dawned. "Valar..."

"The baby's father is Deorfel," Findilan whispered. "I am sorry."

Thranduil shook his head in disbelief. "You're sorry?" he hissed, eyes flashing. "Do you expect me to just say 'oh, that's good, now we can be a happy family'? No, that is not going to happen. You are expecting a child which isn't mine!"

"Do you think I want it to be like this?" Findilan cried. "I didn't want any of this!"

"It doesn't seem as though you were complaining when you went with him!" Thranduil spat. "It just keeps getting better. First of all, I find out that you gave yourself to another. Incidentally, it was a damned human! Now I find out you are going to have his child?"

"If I could change things, I would!"

"Where have I heard that before? Oh yes, it was about a month ago." Thranduil shook his head in anger. "Now we are right back where we started. Damn you, Findilan! How could you have let this happen?"

"I hate this as much as you do!" the Queen cried, tears gathering in her eyes.

During the conversation, if it could be called that, Airëlus had crawled into his mother's arms. Now he began to cry quietly. He didn't like this argument – he had never seen his parents like this before. His grief went un-noticed though, as Findilan sat him down on a chair, so she could go to her husband.

"I am sorry – we should not be losing our tempers like this," she said quietly. "We should be talking, like the adults that we are."

Thranduil pushed her hand away from his arm. "What do you want me to say?" he spat. "I don't know if you can understand this, but I am actually having trouble trying to get my head around the fact that there is a baby growing inside of you, which has nothing to do with me!"

The Elven-king turned and fixed his gaze on the opposite wall, trying to calm himself. He couldn't. All he could see, was Deorfel and Findilan, together. With a yell of rage, he spun around and lifted the desk. He threw it, and ink bottles smashed on the floor, pages of books fell out, and splinters of wood flew every which way.

Airëlus immediately began screaming hysterically, and the tears poured from his eyes. He was scared – petrified, in fact. What had happened to his normally gentle and loving Ada? He didn't like this at all. Findilan was crying quietly, too shocked to comfort her son.

"Will you shut him up!" Thranduil snapped, jerking his head at the frightened child.

"Ada!" Airëlus sobbed. "Don't!"

The King took a deep breath, and pulled the baby into his arms. "I'm sorry, pen-neth. I didn't mean to scare you. Hush, its alright now."

Findilan watched through glistening eyes as Thranduil buried his face against Airëlus' shoulder. She had done this. It was all because of her, that her son was sobbing, and her husband, who she had already hurt enough, was being caused even more pain.

"Did Deorfel know?" Thranduil whispered eventually.

"I began to suspect after he was banished," the Queen said quietly. "I could have tried to follow him, but I did not because the one whom I want to be my child's father, is you."

"How can I?" Thranduil breathed. "How can I, after all this? Valar knows I do not want to lose you, but I can't..."

"You think you cannot be father to a baby whom you know not to be yours." Findilan nodded gently in understanding. ""But if you were to give it some time, maybe you could get used to the idea."

Thranduil looked up, and wiped away some of Airëlus' tears. "I can accept that you were Deorfel's lover; I can accept that you wept when I told you he had been killed. But how can I accept this?"

"I did not do this to spite you, or to hurt you even further," Findilan said softly. "Thranduil, this is merely a result of all that happened before. Some good will come of this, even if you cannot yet see it. I will be having a child."

"A child who is not mine," the King said quietly.

Findilan sighed, and rested a hand on the other Elf's shoulder. "We have not been married for that long, but in our time together, we have got through things which we did not think we would: the Last Alliance, your father's death, you becoming King at a young age – why can we not get through this?"

Thranduil flinched inwardly at the helplessness in his wife's voice. He hesitated, and raised his eyes to meet hers. "You are the one this is happening to, yet I go on as though it is all about me. You need support, but I am not giving it to you. Fin, we can survive this. It will be hard, but I know we can do it."

Tears immediately re-filled the Queen's eyes as Thranduil wrapped the arm that was not holding Airëlus, around her, and pulled her close. But this time, they were not tears of grief, confusion, despair... they were tears of joy, hope, and love.

.............................................................................................................

"My Lord...."

King Thranduil immediately stopped pacing, and stared at the healer who had just stepped in front of him. "Yes, what is it? My wife, is she...how is she?"

"I think it best that you see for yourself," the healer replied.

Thranduil nodded and made to go forwards. But then he paused. A year had gone by since the revelation that Findilan was with child, and tonight, she was giving birth. The Elven-king had to stop for a moment, just to remind himself that if the baby had yet been born, it would look nothing like him.

'But you knew that already,' he thought sharply, pushing open the door to his chambers.

Findilan was sat up in the large bed, eyes closed. Her face was flushed, and her breath came swiftly. But lying in her arms was a tiny form, wrapped up in white cloth: a baby. Thranduil bit down on his lip, and took a tentative step forwards.

"Meleth-nin, we have a baby son," Findilan breathed, her eyes fluttering open. "Do you wish to hold him?"

The Elven-king looked doubtfully at his wife. "I...I don't know. What if he does not...? No, I'm not sure. Maybe he won't like me."

One of the elder healers clicked her tongue in annoyance, and propelled Thranduil forwards. "Now really, you have done this once before. Don't be afraid of the child, he is much smaller than you."

"I am not-

"Good, then take him," she said firmly.

Thranduil made a face at her, before looking back down at the anxiously waiting Findilan. She smiled and lifted her arms, careful not to disturb the peaceful infant. The King hardly dared to breathe as he took the baby into his own arms.

"Valar..." Thranduil muttered. "He is beautiful."

There was a dusting of dark hair on the newborn's head, and his eyes were closed in sleep. Long lashes lay on his pale cheeks, and as the new father's hair fell down into his face, they fluttered slightly. Thranduil was just about to say something, when one of his fingers was suddenly caught in the baby's tiny hand.

"I will leave you three alone," the healer said softly.

Thranduil sat on the edge of the bed, still gazing down at the sleeping child. When he raised his eyes to meet his wife's, they were shining with tears – tears of joy. Findilan smiled and rested her head against the King's shoulder, yet she also was unable to look away from her son.

"No, our son," she whispered.

"What?" Thranduil asked quietly.

"I just said that...our son is beautiful," she replied. "He is beautiful."

"He is," the other Elf nodded. "He will go on to do great things – I can see that already."

Findilan looked up and smiled. "You are biased, meleth." She paused, and nodded slowly. "I think also that he will go on to do great things."

In years to come, that child would indeed do very great things. But not all great deeds are good. Some are cruel, and should not be thought of by any living being. If either parent was aware of what the future would hold for them and their family, and what road their new son would go down...who knows what would have happened?

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Well, there it is. It was a really long chapter, I know, but I wanted to fit the whole thing into one update, cos otherwise you'd have to wait for the second half. It took ages to type though! I'm sorry that there's no reviewer responses here, but its very late, I'm tired, and my hands are so sore that they'll be dropping off any time now. Oh, there goes one now. But I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed this chapter, cos I'm interested as to what you think.

See you in a few days for the next chapter!

Misto

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