REGARDING ROMANCE: Firstly, I would like to issue a concern regarding the romance between Thranduil and Areth. Evidently, this is not a "love at first sight" thing. I rather like developing a plot rather than outright explaining why this happened or that happened. So please, have patience with me. At this part of the story, they do not love each other. Dear Lord, they don't even like each other.
REGARDING CANON AND PURISTS: As I am a major Tolkien-verse fan, yes, I am aware of the "elves marry only once" rule, but… well. Yeah. I just want to say that I got your back, purists, as (to a certain extent) I am a purist, myself. No matter how cold Thranduil may appear, he is still an elf, and elves are very loyal to their mates. I am not making Areth a "welcome distraction," as you so put it, fellow guest.
As to any other concerns that I did not issue, answering them probably would lead to spoilers. I beseech you to trust me to not royally fuck this up.
Well, anyways, thank you for the overwhelming support. I appreciate it. I certainly didn't expect such an amount of alerts, especially after only two chapters. Any questions, concerns, comments—please include them on the reviews.
Disclaimer: I am but a trespasser in Professor Tolkien's world. I do not own anything.
The whole of the Elven King's Hall seemed to be tied together by intertwining roots of the surrounding trees that emerged from the earth's soil. It was a wonder, indeed, for it seemed to protect the realm like a great fortress from the shadows that overtook the entire of the domain. Never would an outsider have imagined a hidden light inside the darkness that was Mirkwood.
The ethereal glow of the soft amber light followed the winding path, seeming to lead them to their destination.
The walk to the Healing Room was silent, however. It was rather strange to Areth that they had yet to encounter a single soul within the walls of their path.
While Areth did not particularly mind the quiet, she knew that Ernil had something to say, or else he would not keep glancing at her in that peculiar fashion as much as he did. Every few moments, he would open his mouth, as if to speak, only to close it again before looking away. Ever since they had left the throne room, Areth could feel the familiar sensation of being watched. Though tame compared to the burning eyes of his liege, it could not be so easily dismissed considering the fact that Ernil had not bothered to be discreet.
Areth was willing to hear whatever it was that her Elven companion had to say, and yet, he seemed unable to make a resolve.
Already, though, Areth had an inkling as to what it was he wanted to voice. Still, she let him ponder his thoughts. The wanderer was far too exhausted to think, let alone press her guide about whatever it was that he wished to say.
Not even the mystical beauty of the Woodland Realm could take from her the feeling of weariness. Her eyes already shadowed from sleep depravation, Areth felt about ready to sleep where she stood. Her limbs ached and her eyes felt heavy, though she was thankful that the dull throbbing on her temples derived from dehydration finally passed. However, despite feeling the terrible repercussions of self-neglect, Areth knew that she would not be able to sleep peacefully without knowing that Aldamir was healed and in safe hands.
And so, they trudged along the wooden paths built by the Silvan Elves of Old.
Areth saw a narrow doorway framed by twisting branches that rooted from the ground. Much like everything else in the Woodland Realm, it emanated life. Running a gloved hand on the twisting pillars' smooth surface, she could feel the energy that was at peace within the halls.
Just as Areth was about to step beneath the arch of the pathway, Ernil's quiet voice stopped her.
"In the future, I would caution you against acting impertinently when regarding King Thranduil," he uttered quite solemnly, his voice depicting the accent of his mother tongue.
Turning her head from her path to face her Silvan companion, Areth regarded Ernil silently, contemplatively. She allowed him a moment to continue. When only silence had passed and it was evident that he would not resume, Areth turned to face him fully. Speaking as quietly as she could, for her voice seemed to reverberate about the enclosed hall, she said, "Is that all you wanted to say, Ernil?"
The tone of her voice indicated that she did not mean it unkindly. The Silvan Elf seemed to understand that.
Clasping his pale hands behind his back, Ernil inclined his head.
"I do not wish to cause you offense," Ernil uttered rather slowly and deliberately, as if searching for the proper words, "but I feel that this must be said."
"Then speak freely, my friend, and say what you must," she said. Finding that her strength had fled, Areth sought support from the frame of the doorway and leaned her back against it. She felt the bulge of her bow press against her through the cushioning of her cloak.
"At your insistence," said the Silvan guard, holding his palm to his breast. His eyes held a strange solemn glint that the wander was not familiar with—a sort of glint that reminded Areth that she was a mere child in the eyes of her acquaintance. "My King Thranduil is not known for welcoming strangers into his realm. In fact, for the safety of his people, he often keeps our Halls hidden from outsiders. I can tell you now that you and your companion are the first welcomed visitors that have entered our halls since a long while."
Areth lowered her eyes and raised a glove-clad hand to halt his speech. "You depict our arrival as if it were a sort of rare phenomenon," she uttered with no short amount of cynicism, "I have asked you to speak freely. My friend, do not pretend that our welcome into your realm is anything more than what it truly is. You and I both know that we were only well received because your companion made the unfortunate mistake of injuring Aldamir."
Ernil was taken aback by her honest, blunt response. This was not how he wanted their conversation to turn. However, he also felt the slight sting of the mortal's rather harsh opinion. To be accused such a selfish motivation for kindness was an undeniable insult. Not only did he feel the indignation on behalf of his people, but on behalf of his King.
He made no claim to neither agree nor disagree with the mortal's accusation, though his posture stiffened even so slightly. His voice taking on the attitude of strictness and forced calm of a Mirkwood guard, he uttered coolly, "Regardless, you are in the halls of my King. You have no love for the throne from my understanding, but I would advise you to show nothing but utter gratitude to your host."
A moment of silence passed. It was broken only by the mortal's soft sigh. Areth's green eyes seemed to glaze over with rue.
"Forgive me, my friend," she uttered, the lilt of her voice quiet and conciliating. She ran a gloved hand through her long hair in unspoken frustration. "My mind has been deprived of true rest, and though that does not excuse my ill behavior, please know that the King has nothing but my thanks."
The Silvan elf nodded slowly in acceptance, and the hard expression on his light eyes seemed to evaporate as his stiff posture visibly loosened. Regarding the wanderer curiosity rather than in offense, he said, "Have we done something to make you doubt the sincerity of our welcome?"
"No, of course not," she uttered quickly, shaking his head, "The King was nothing if not generous, and you, kind."
"Then you have merely lost hope that people would show a willing kindness without incentive."
"I did not say that," Areth said defensively, unconsciously crossing her arms before her chest.
Ernil regarded her contemplatively, his light gaze without judgment. A moment had passed which led the elf's thoughts nowhere, as her heart was as guarded as her forest eyes.
"Well," he uttered, the one single word coming out almost as a sigh of defeat. His entire face lit up by a small smile, he then said, "Let us carry on, then. While you are anxious to see your companion, it would not hurt to get yourself cleaned up first."
Pushing herself from the pillar, Areth raised a single brow at the Silvan guard.
"Now, I was not suggesting anything by it, my friend," he said, placating. Placing a palm on her shoulder, Ernil steered Areth through the ach. "But I think you would appreciate the feeling of cleanliness after days bathed in filth."
She shook her head good-naturedly and allowed him to lead the way. After all, she felt too exhausted to refute. Also, the thought of a nice bath was far too tempting of a thought to dismiss.
"And what of her companion?"
The Sindar's steps were mild and lingering as he paced about the expanse of the platform below his intricate throne. He held a presence about him that simply demanded to be noticed without a single utterance. The absence of the crown adorned with autumn leaves made no impact at all to hinder the authority that he commanded.
"He is weak, my Lord, and so has yet to awaken," the guard replied as he stood still and tall before his pacing liege.
"Tell me about the woman—Areth," the Elven King uttered softly, tightening the grip on his wooden staff as his blue eyes wandered about the expanse of the room, "You have spent much time with her."
"She is… She is rather wary. It is as if she expects us to double-cross her at any given moment. She claims that we only welcomed her because Arphen made the mistake of injuring her companion."
Thranduil shifted his light stare to the guard with a thick brow raised as he paused. "But it is true, is it not? Rarely do we ever welcome inexplicit wanderers to enter the sacred borders of our realm," he uttered truthfully, if not rather harshly without intention.
Ernil silently disagreed with him. Cold as he believed himself to be, the guard did not think that King Thranduil would cast out an injured traveler were it in his power to help.
His steps continued to circle about the platform. "I expect that she does not regard me in the best of light."
Ernil paused, shifting slightly from where he stood. While he did not want to outright proclaim Areth's thoughts to the Elven King, as the Silvan guard felt that whatever the mortal said should be kept in his confidence, he could do little for prevention should the King ask.
"I do not think that she holds anything against you, my King," Ernil uttered slowly, his words carefully considered, "but rather resents the idea of a realm ruled by a single throne."
The King was quick to note of Ernil's reluctance, but did not press him. After all, he already knew that the wary mortal was not fond of him.
"Or perhaps she simply does not trust the Silvan Elves of Greenwood."
"That may also be true. Perhaps it was due to her time in Imladris."
"Have you gathered why she is here?" the King steered the subject.
Ernil lowered his head. "No. I apologize. I did not ask, for I felt that she would not tell me even if I had done so."
The King curled a jewel-adorned finger beneath his pale lip as his half-lidded eyes stared in quiet contemplation. "Still," he said mildly, "I commend her honesty. I imagine that you are more likely to garner such truth from her than if I were to speak to her. Her tongue remains cautious when addressing her host."
The Silvan guard did not reply but merely inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement.
Thranduil waved a jewel-adorned hand dismissively.
"It matters not," he said, "I will find the reason one way or another. Return to your duties beyond our borders, Ernil. You are dismissed."
Ernil bowed. Turning from where he stood, he walked the first step of the route to leave from the throne room. His step faltered, however. The King, noticing that the guard had stopped, regarded him with cool, questioning eyes as he, too, stopped just as he was ascending the steps of his throne.
Seeming to hesitate in voicing his words, Ernil's eyes lowered slightly. "Forgive me, my Lord, if I speak too boldly," he uttered softly, "But Areth-"
Having already anticipated the Silvan guard's words, the King raised a pale hand adorned with shining rings to halt his speech, inadvertently reminding Ernil slightly of the mortal at question, for she had done the same thing merely a few moments ago. The action was not unkind, nor was it dismissive, but was made for the simple intention of stopping the guard from speaking further.
Words felt unnecessary, as Thranduil's cerulean eyes seemed to speak for him. Calm and stoic was the Elven King's expression, and yet, those blue eyes spoke of deep thoughts that were ineffable in any tongue created on Middle Earth. One glance at those eyes told Ernil that his King had long before come to the same thought as he did.
"You are dismissed, Ernil," he repeated, his voice even and impassive.
Bowing, the Silvan Elf bowed in acquiesce.
"As you wish, my Lord."
The hour grew darker.
Despite her previous exhaustion, Areth awoke only after a few hours of rest. Her body felt stiff and sore as she moved on the small chair that sat beside Aldamir's bed, and her limbs felt far too heavy than was natural.
The wanderer sighed. She was tired, still, but she knew that she would not be able to return back to slumber. Despite knowing the temporary haven that the realm of Greenwood brought, being in an unfamiliar surrounding gave her a sense of unease. Furthermore, she still felt the slight repercussions brought on by being a hired guide—the seemingly perpetual alertness had yet to leave her.
Instead, she reclined against her seat's back and crossed her ankles before her almost leisurely. She gently traced patterns on her unusually bare palm, pale from the lack of exposure and calloused from hard work. For a moment, she allowed her mind to quieten and she contented herself with the simple task of thinking.
The Healing Rooms were empty, for there were none injured save for her sleeping companion. The Silvan healer that was called had long since left Aldamir to recover naturally, for there was none else they could have done further but wait.
When her green eyes glancing over the scholar, Areth duly noted that he was cleaned of the grime and dirt that coated his skin from their many days spent within the Forest. His old clothes which had been made bearing the sigil of his realm were replaced by the fine cloth worn by the elven-kind. Her eyes lingered on his hands. Cleaned from the stain of dark crimson and wrapped neatly with strips of bandages, Areth felt the heaviness that weighed over her shoulders lift considerably.
The Elves had cared for Aldamir well.
Areth slowly rose from the seat, using the wooden arm as leverage, for her body had yet to gain its full strength. She then stretched her stiff muscles. Straightening the dress she wore offered to her by her elven host, Areth sat down once again before lifting her feet bare of her shoes on the seat and wrapping her arms around her knees.
As she could do nothing else but wait for Aldamir to recover, Areth used the time given to her to contemplate a plan on what they would do beyond the borders of Mirkwood. She knew with no doubt that Aldamir would want to stay within the Elven King's halls until he deemed his work finished. As a hired guide, Areth would see to Aldamir's plans, but she knew that she could not impose on their host's welcome.
From Mirkwood, Areth would guide the scholar to Esgaroth and from there, the two would part ways.
However, this unexpected turn of events no doubt hindered the wanderer's initial plans, as more time would then be wasted. Areth ran a hand through her long hair and rested the side of her head against the arm of her chair. It seemed that her return to Gondor has yet again been prolonged.
Her arms loosened about her bent legs and her eyes lidded over her irises as she felt the slight desire to rest. Areth blinked once, but saw a slight shift in the light that emanated from the doorway—as if a shadow had passed through. That alone brought her the sense of wakefulness and in an instant, her mind became alert.
Areth did not move from her position, however. Instead, she waited.
Soon enough, the shadow became much clearer, for their silhouette came closer and closer. Had she not caught a glimpse of the moving shadow, Areth knew that she would have been taken by surprise, for his steps made no sound to indicate his arrival.
"If your purpose is to frighten me, Ernil, then you are doing a poor job," she said in good nature, her voice lowering for the sake of her resting companion.
"I did not know that you were expecting Ernil," a low voice uttered, his tone even, "Had I been aware, I would not have sent him to patrol our borders."
The deep, smooth lilt was all too familiar.
That alone startled Areth into swiftness, for she quickly brought her bare feet on the ground and rose.
Before her stood the Elven King, his chin raised and his fair face impassive. His cerulean eyes were half-lidded and contemplative as they regarded Areth, and she almost felt the impulse to straighten her dress and the length of her tresses due to the sheer unease he brought her. His robes were unchanged, for they were the same deep maroon that matched the serenity of his realm, and his shining pale hair traveled down due to its sheer length. The King seemed almost misplaced in the healing room, as if it could not hold the majesty that the King's presence brought.
The shadow of humor that was once on the mortal's face was quick to vanish upon his arrival and she bowed her head, her long hair framing her face and almost touching her knees. Gone was her relaxed countenance, for when she rose, her face became guarded.
It did not escape Thranduil's notice. His eyes narrowed ever so lightly before his features returned to its unreadable façade. Moving across the expanse of the healing room, his pace lingering, the King stopped when only a short distance away from Areth. He seemed almost amused as he watched her face shift into a subtle expression of wariness.
"King Thranduil," she uttered uncertainly, her voice guarded, if not questioning. Indeed, she never would have expected to see the Elven King so soon after their first meeting. She assumed that he seldom saw his guests after introduction, let alone visited them personally.
The King made no further utterance and instead regarded her with light, thoughtful eyes and an indescribable look about his face. She had cleaned herself well, for no longer was she coated in dirt and sweat. Away from the dark clothing of a traveler and in a dress of deep green, with the long, golden hair, she could have easily been mistaken for an immortal.
He shut his eyes briefly. He looked to Areth as if he were chastising himself, for he shook his head slightly in such a manner. When the moment had passed, the King's face was as blank and fair as it had always been, and yet his glazed cerulean eyes betrayed it as a mere pretense.
"I trust that you have found yourself well accommodated," the King uttered finally, breaking the silence. His gaze seemed to shift from her hair to the fading scratch on her cheek before finally resting on her eyes.
"Yes, of course," she managed to say tersely. Areth did not mean to sound so acerbic, and yet her words came out much sharper than she intended. As a sort of reprieve, the woman inclined her head slightly, lowering her gaze, before adding softly, "You have welcomed us into your halls without question, and for that, I am thankful."
Thranduil regarded her with the countenance of one who was tired of deceit. His half-lidded eyes were piercing and disbelieving. Clasping his hands behind his back, he then said, his voice much stronger, "Did I not say to speak freely within my halls? Or has your sharp tongue fled with your quick wit?"
Areth's green eyes flashed briefly and on the King's lips formed what could be seen as a shadow of a smile. This odd King—she did not understand him. The mortal did not know whether he simply provoked her out of the sheer enjoyment of seeing her rise or because of the mere sense of entitlement of being able to speak however he wanted.
Whatever it may be, Areth would be cautious, as she now held a better grasp of her consciousness after her brief rest. She would have to watch her words, as whatever carelessness she uttered would be her later regret.
"The wit is still quick but the tongue confined," she uttered. Inclining her head to the Elven King, she continued, "Forgive me for my earlier impudence. I was not in my right mind."
"I imagine that you do not often seek forgiveness for such minor offenses. Is this Ernil's doing?" the King said evenly, if not dryly.
"He might have played a part."
As she said this, Thranduil could see the corner of her lip turn upward slightly in humor. His sharp features relaxed.
"And now it is my turn to apologize," he said. He took wry amusement in the way her impassive expression morphed into an unconcealed surprise. He continued, "As a king, it is my duty to take responsibility over the actions of my ward."
"I assume you speak of my companion's wounds," Areth said evenly. She distanced herself from the King and took her place by the resting Aldamir's side. "The apology has little meaning to me."
The King's eyes widened a fraction, his cerulean eyes flashing. Oh, she was impudent.
Seeming to realize her words as she caught a glimpse of his expression, she added quickly, "I simply do not believe that the apology is meant for me."
This seemed to pacify the King, as his expressive features once again turned calm and even.
"Then I have said all that I must."
The wanderer's eyes narrowed slightly. Quickly, swiftly, she quipped thoughtlessly, "I very much doubt that. Rarely do kings visit with such an innocent purpose as apologizing."
The edge of Thranduil's lip twisted into a smirk. Unconsciously tracing the outline of a ring from behind his back, he strode forward idly, his steps lingering and deliberate. Areth's gaze narrowed slightly but she refused to move, even when the King lowered his face to meet her eyes evenly.
She was no stranger to intimidation. Areth tried hard not to flinch at his proximity. Garnering even the slightest reaction from her would no doubt be admitting defeat.
"Perceptive"—his head tilted in slight as he spoke deliberately—"Wary"—his voice a quiet hiss—"Arrogant."
The Elven King's face was merely an inch away from hers. Areth could almost feel the ice of his piercing gaze despite the warmth of his breath. She was given a clear view of his face, fair and young despite his centuries of life. She nearly sighed in relief when the King distanced himself from her, but contained herself, if not to conceal the fact that the Sindar undeniably unnerved her.
As if commending, he uttered finally, his voice taking his usual smooth lilt of evenness, "Honest."
And then, he continued, "But you are correct in assuming otherwise. My purpose lies beyond frivolous and rather artificial apologies." He paused then, glancing at the mortal from the corner of his half-lidded eyes. When she remained silent, he continued, "I want to know why you and your companion travel though my realm without leave. What exactly do you wish to accomplish by entering my domain?"
Had Areth not held her tongue, she would have said, "Is it a crime to do so?" However, it would be in her best interest to know her place, as Ernil had wisely cautioned. The wanderer was only beginning to learn that King Thranduil did not have a great patience to tolerate many things. It was evident that she was merely grazing past the borders.
Instead, she inclined her head and spoke, her words cautious and thoughtful, "I am a mere guide to my companion, whose business in your realm is purely academic, my King."
His light blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly before his features became blank once more.
"I am content with your words," he said. Seeming like an afterthought, he added, "for now."
"I have no other version of the truth," she asserted.
"Indeed," Thranduil uttered dryly. "Then you can tell me nothing more."
He turned, as if to leave, and only when she was no longer in his line of vision was Areth able to breathe easily.
"I invite you to join me in the morn. For now, I will leave you to your thoughts."
King Thranduil uttered no other words and simply departed, the end of his deep robes trailing behind him. He left as silently as he came. His undefined silhouette was the only vision of Thranduil that she could see. His bejeweled hand made a slight waving gesture, and she was certain that it was not mean for her.
It seemed that Thranduil was as wary of her as she was of him.
Only when he truly left did the wanderer allow her posture to loosen. Areth exhaled a heavy breath as she dropped her weight on the seat she previously occupied. She felt exhausted.
She hoped Aldamir would awaken quickly, if only for the sake of not having to bear the weight of the Elven King's overwhelming presence alone.
Yay. This was originally gonna be posted yesterday, but I made an unexpected trip to the cinema that made me reassess Thranduil's character. This chapter was kind of hard to write.