The Strength of Three
By: ArcherGal2932
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I owe none of Tolkien's characters, and while Vanya (Thranduil's wife) remains my invention her unborn child is not. I wrote this for enjoyment only, and no profit is being made off the ideas the wonderful Professordreamed up.
A/N: I have returned once more with yet another ficlet. No extra chapters or sequels or prequels planned, although "Mask of Innocence" could be considered a sequel, I suppose, chronologically at least (but not in reference). Please read and review!
The footsteps were silent as they retraced a well-worn path in the earth. The light feet were slow in walking, almost distressed as the white flesh flashed from beneath the blue dress she wore. She knew this path by heart, and could follow it blindly or backwards. This was the same path her husband carried her down on their wedding night, when their eyes were bright with excitement and love. When he had accompanied her on a midnight stroll when she could not sleep, this was the path they followed, hand in hand. When she dutifully strode side-by-side with him down to the courtyard or council hall on official business, this is the path that led them to the palace. And she remembered when she passed a tree with silver bark, when he had followed her here, so many years past. She could remember when he, a bold, love-struck youth, had first kissed her there, and when he had cradled her in his arms beneath that special silver tree when she had wept in her troubles.
She knew that never had either of them been seen alone on this path, for if either had tarried in the palace the other waited to accompany him home. Never had they been parted for a long spell, not in the time they had been happily wed.
Often had this path witnessed two sets of footsteps follow the path of its winding passage, but this night it cradled the footprints of only one.
Vanya's eyes were soft with concern and torment as she walked, her mind whirling. Councilor Saeldur had told her that Thranduil had left the council early, and it worried her terribly that he had not sent word to her down with the healers where she had been visiting. Her hands were clasped over her abdomen, and out of anxiety she caressed the large swell that had blossomed since her child's conception many months earlier.
Before she knew it she had reached her and her husband's home, and without hesitation quietly opened the door and peered inside. Thranduil was indeed here. Vanya closed the door silently behind her, and turned to find him once more. Her husband stood at their balcony, alone, staring into the night sky. The Elven woman crossed the room quickly when she realized that Thranduil was upset.
"Thranduil, is everything all right?" She asked. Gently sliding her arm around his and giving his hand a small squeeze Vanya joined him at the balcony. He turned quickly, not realizing she had entered, so deep in thought was he. When his eyes met hers she saw tears glisten in the crystal depths. Thranduil glanced away swiftly, blinking the hot tears back. He nodded.
"I am well. Do not waste your time worrying over me – I am not ill."
"I knew that you were not ill. You would not return early if you were, you are that stubborn. I was asking if something troubled you, my love." Vanya slipped in front of him, taking his hands into hers and trying to draw his attention. But he pulled away and averted his eyes, leaving her alone. "Something troubles you," she stated softly, remaining at the balcony. "Please, speak with me. Am I that hard to bear being with?"
Thranduil shook his head. "No. Forgive me, Vanya. I am simply weary; weary of everything."
Vanya stiffened, unable to stop the flash of confusion and shock in her eyes. "Weary? Of what do you speak?"
"I speak of everything my father left me," came the subdued answer.
His wife closed her eyes tiredly. "You had this difficulty when you first came home," she recalled. "And I remember settling it with you, when you still bore the wounds of battle."
"But this is different, Vanya," Thranduil answered hollowly. There was something in Thranduil's voice that frightened Vanya, and she stood up straighter and moved forward to embrace him once more. "When my father died, he left me a realm of beauty and strength. And I have doomed it. I have begun its destruction-"
"Thranduil!" Vanya's voice was hushed as she pulled Thranduil around, forcing him to meet her anxious eyes. "You are not yourself! This realm is not dying; it is full of life and hope! How could you attribute to the doom of a kingdom? And even if you did so, you cannot lose hope for the security of your realm when your child shall grow and prosper here-"
"No, Vanya, you do not understand. Something is brewing in the south," he raised his emerald eyes to meet hers. His voice was calm and quiet in response to her anxious one; it was an unlikely switch. "And I can feel it within my heart; evil is stirring once more."
She flinched at the words, and recoiled slightly. "You cannot…why do you…how?"
He shook his head wearily, eyes closing in some kind of pain. "I do not have proof, but my heart screams at me now that something is going terribly wrong beyond our borders." The Woodland King turned away, thinking that she would rebuke him and deem him mad, like the others had done.
On the contrary, she did the exact opposite.
"Then something is wrong," she concluded. He turned around, baffled.
"What?"
Her sapphire eyes flickered up to his. "If you say something is wrong, my dear, then something is dreadfully wrong," she explained respectfully.
Thranduil sighed. "But you are the only one who seems to believe in me. The councilors…they have grown arrogant and demand facts and reports to back up every claim. It is so hard, being king. I do not understand how my father could bear it…"
The sound of a stifled sob reached Vanya's sharp ears, and she rushed forward to embrace her husband comfortingly. "Hush meleth; do not speak of this now…"
"But how can I not?" he wept bitterly, "I will never measure up to the legacy Oropher left behind, and already our kingdom has begun its descent into darkness! How can I be king in a time like this? How can the people love someone like me?" He tore himself from Vanya's hands and paced about, his brow furrowed in frustration. Vanya could only watch as anger and fear got the best of her husband. His rage had built up within him, and it was soon reaching its climax.
"It tears me apart to know that the enemy has risen once more and I can do nothing!" he exclaimed. "I am forced to watch, for I know not if my forces can stand an offensive attack. Only rumors are spoken, not truths or facts. Valar, how did my father do it? How was he able to understand it and I cannot? Oh Eru…I cannot do this, Vanya! I just can't!" Thranduil cried angrily, his eyes red with tears. He slammed his fists against a pillar in frustration, and the sound echoed dimly.
Now that he had finished venting his anger, the pain began to take over. The ache of his bloody knuckles reached his attention, and he winced and sank into a chair as weariness came to claim his body. Vanya rushed forward, gently taking his injured hands in hers as she knelt before him. "Thranduil, listen to me," she demanded of him quietly. She drew his head up so she could meet his tear-filled eyes with her gaze. "Listen. You are the greatest ruler in the history of Lasgalen!"
"There have only been two rulers, Vanya. Two."
Vanya ignored him. "You must go on without your father. Stop dwelling on the past, it dooms the future. You are stronger than you know. You can triumph over this, my love. I have seen you in your weakest of times, and even then you are stronger than I could ever be."
Thranduil smiled sadly. "You are stronger than I, meleth, if you are the one lecturing me," he broke in regretfully.
Shaking her head, she smiled reassuringly and kissed him. "No, my love. Even the strongest have their falls, and you will overcome this. Trust your heart, and everything will be all right, I promise you."
Thranduil searched her eyes for signs of deceptiveness. "You promise?" He whispered.
Vanya smiled. "I promise."
The Woodland king fondly ran his fingers through her silky hair. A sudden thought struck Vanya, and her heart lifted. "Feel, right here," She announced softly, her eyes twinkling, and took his free hand gently and placed it upon her abdomen. He cautiously caressed the swollen area, and his heart began to race. His eyes lit up.
"The child's moving," He exclaimed in a dumbfounded murmur. Vanya laughed at his stupor and surprise. A smile broke out on Thranduil's face, and he cupped the side of Vanya's face warmly.
"There will be a little Thranduillion in five asta, my love," Vanya told him, her hand unconsciously going to her abdomen to meet her husband's hand. It had been seven moons since her conception. Thranduil saw her movement, and gently laid both his hands over his wife's stomach. He could barely detect a heartbeat beneath his fingers, and he nearly laughed out loud.
"I knew you had reached your halfway, but that soon?"
Vanya smiled. "Yes, my love, you will soon have to get used to being called 'Ada' every waking moment of your life," she teased, and Thranduil grabbed her up in a hug, twirling her about as she clung to his neck.
"Vanya, I am so happy for you, and us, and the child, and…" Thranduil exclaimed breathlessly. "Valar, I still cannot believe that you will become a mother, and I a father, and together we will have…"
"A son," she murmured, glowing.
Thranduil sat her down abruptly in surprise, and his eyes could barely contain his excitement. "You are sure?" he breathed.
Beaming, the queen nodded. "A little prince," she whispered, just as breathless as he.
A broad smile broke out on her husband's face. Vanya gasped in surprise as he lifted her easily into his arms and laid her on their bed. He pulled down the blankets and tucked his wife in carefully, fluffing the pillows and covering her with the blankets to keep her warm in the early spring evening. "Thranduil, what in Arda are you doing?" Vanya exclaimed. Thranduil flashed a grin.
"The expectant Queen of Lasgalen shall not be up and tiring herself while she is bearing the future Prince of Lasgalen," Thranduil explained sweetly. Vanya laughed and swatted playfully at his arm as the king reached over to pull the bedcovers up further. Her smile softened as her husband gently reached for her. She let her lashes flutter closed as Thranduil kissed her deeply, his hands caressing her fair face as her own locked about his neck and stroked his golden locks. Thranduil settled in with his wife as she pulled him closer. When their lips parted Thranduil let himself plant kisses upon her pale cheeks, his breath warm against her skin as he savored the feel of his lover's body so close to his. The Elven lord's hands gently stroked Vanya's stomach, but pulled back abruptly when he came in contact with her abdomen. He raised his head, opening his eyes to gaze upon the lady with surprise.
"The child…it is as though I experience an electric shock every time I touch you there…" He breathed in awe. Vanya gazed at her husband with loving eyes, and nodded. "I can feel him within me every day, my love," Vanya told him quietly, letting her fingers trace the contours of his face. He kissed her once more before settling beside her and letting his beloved snuggle into his warm embrace.
Thranduil closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent of lavender in her dark hair. "Hannon le, meleth," he whispered, kissing her forehead tenderly.
"What have I done to deserve your thanks?" she asked, meeting his emerald gaze.
"Everything," he whispered in return, and she smiled. "Valar, I could not survive without you, Vanya."
"Neither I," she returned faithfully. A mischievous look made her eyes suddenly sparkle as Thranduil leaned in again for another kiss. She stopped him gently. "Promise me one thing first," she requested, her lips curling in a sweet smile.
"I would give the world to you. Speak the word and I shall obey, my lady," Thranduil replied honestly.
Vanya laughed softly. "Then never leave the palace early again without alerting me. You had the little one and I worried to death," she reprimanded teasingly.
Thranduil chuckled. "Agreed," he responded, his tenor voice warm and soothing, and he kissed her under the starry sky. His heart had lifted and he now had hope because of his devoted wife. The strength she and the child had given him was amazing, and Thranduil wondered vaguely at her real power and courage, the type of virtues his lover did not tend to display. Nay, perhaps it is not the strength of Vanya and the child alone that has helped me, but the vigor I had abandoned as well that they awoke. With our combined determination – virtues displayed in a variety of ways – perhaps we can destroy hatred with love. Yes, I have hope now. Hope for the future like I had never possessed before. Hope for the end to all that is evil in this world, the evil that darkens the future of my family.
But he decided to think nothing of the enemy in the South for now. It could be dealt with later, for he had the time and strength now. Thranduil was soon to be a father and was deeply in love with the most beautiful lady in all of Lasgalen, and nothing, not even the enemy beyond his borders, could ruin his life now.
The end.