Chapter 5

Several days passed uneventfully. Daenerys enjoyed her unconstrained freedom, and often chose to wander on her own. She visited the dragons almost daily, and made sure they were fed. They had begun growing faster now, as a result of their improved diet and their being out of the small cage. The rest of her time she passed as before, spending her hours studying Sindarin and visiting her new friends around the Halls, for her presence had been welcomed and liked by the kind-natured elves. But outside the Halls she did not dare go on her own, for fear of getting lost in the woods, or happening upon orcs and monsters. She had not forgotten Thranduil's warning, and she was no fool to ignore it. Still, the darkness of the forest intrigued her, and she wished she could go out there one day.

One of these afternoons she was relaxing in her room, resting on the sofa before the fire. She had just had a bath, and her hair was still wet. She was clad in a soft silken robe of creamy white, and had a warm blanket draped over her legs. Her thoughts were a mixture of images: her dragons, Drogo and his pyre, Viserys, her khalasar, her silver mare… all these she had left behind. And here new images flooded her mind: the vast forest, the deep, cavernous Halls with their intricate architecture, the elves and their uniqueness, and their King.

Daenerys pondered her situation for a moment. In a few months' time she had managed to rise from a captive to a Queen, for she was truly treated as a Queen now. She had been given many gowns, riding attire, slippers and boots, jewelry, brushes and powders, herbs and fragrancies and soaps… Her bath would always be ready and hot, and her hearth warm with fire. Her pillows were soft, her meals rich and delicious; her every demand was answered. There was nothing she would complain about, for the elves had structured a perfect life for her, and placed her in it to live it.

And so she lived, and the days went by. But there was something missing from her life, something she had when she was alone and dirty in the Dothraki Sea, with none but Ser Jorah to cling to. She had a purpose, she had a mission. She had a reason for living. Now, she felt like a puppet, pretty, but void of meaning.

I must find something to do here, something to make me feel useful. There is so much time in my hands, and I must put it to use, she decided. I might ask the King about that. He may suggest a post to assign me to, or find some other occupation for me.

Then a knock on her door was heard, and Daenerys allowed entrance. "Good afternoon, Daenerys", a familiar voice spoke, and she raised her eyes from where she sat only to behold the King.

He was dressed in garb of leisure, long robes tied loosely about his waist and exposing the long column of his white throat. Their color was a deep crimson, and he looked regal and commanding. On his head he wore no crown, and his hair fell in glistening, straight strands below his shoulders, unbraided and unadorned, as he always wore it.

"My lord Thranduil", she said and sat up immediately.

"I trust I am not interrupting your rest", he said, and approached the fireplace.

"You are not", she answered, rising from her seat.

He glanced at her as she moved. Wet hair, cascading like melting snow on her back. Thin robes accentuating her figure. Gaze relaxed, and fixed on him. "The issues with the dwarves took longer than I had estimated", he began. "I had hoped we could have begun our Valyrian lessons sooner."

Daenerys smiled. "There is always time for that."

"Of course."

She remembered her courtesies then. "But come, sit, my lord."

He nodded his thanks and took a seat on one end of the sofa, lightly pushing her blanket aside and leisurely crossing his legs on the knee. "Are you cold?" he wondered, tracing the woolen texture of the blanket with his fingertips.

"The nights have gotten colder, admittedly. I am not used to the cold", she replied, standing now next to the fire.

"You are born of fire", he remarked.

She gave him a playful look. "Not exactly… But I do enjoy the heat."

"Unlike I", Thranduil said. "I have always felt more comfortable in winter than in summer."

"I noticed your skin is cool to the touch…" she said, but immediately regretted it. What am I thinking, commenting on the feel of his skin? He may get the wrong idea about it!

But the King simply nodded, seemingly oblivious to her thoughts. "It is so with all elves. Unlike your skin, which is like fire to touch."

She knew then his comment was pointed, and his intense gaze confirmed it. What does he want? She decided to evade it. "I am the blood of the dragon, and dragons are fire made flesh."

"I have known that all too well", he murmured, and in an instant his eyes fell and his brow furrowed.

Daenerys noticed the change in his demeanor. She left her place by the fire and came to sit on the opposite end of the sofa. "My lord?"

He lifted his eyes. "Never mind", he said, dismissing his darkening thoughts. "I would not speak of dreadful stories tonight."

But she noticed his persistent frown, and felt compelled to comfort him. "Is there something troubling you, hîr nín?" she asked.

He looked at her, almost glowering. "You sound like my wife now. She would never leave a matter to rest until she knew the whole of it", he said, sounding somewhat irritated.

She smiled bitterly, and her face showed compassion. "You miss her."

Thranduil sighed, his irritation dissipating. "Terribly. She has been dead for nearly two thousand years now, but the memory is always near. The pain has faded over the time, but it has never really left me."

"Two thousand years? That is a long time. Have you not considered remarrying?" Daenerys wondered.

"Remarrying? That would be most unusual. Extremely few have been the cases when an elf has remarried, and that is because we mate for life. We do not choose our partners idly, neither are our marriages feeble, like some human ones. It is the strongest bond an elf can forge, and remains unbreakable, even after one partner has passed away", he explained.

"It sounds so romantic… To love someone forever, truly, and to be faithful to them. I wish humans were like that as well... but…" she sighed, remembering the vile customs of the Dothraki.

"I understand that humans in your world do not differ much from humans here", Thranduil said.

"Apparently."

"And what category do you fall in? Are you romantic, or feeble?" he asked her with great interest in his tone.

She quirked and eyebrow. "I have never thought to categorize myself. And… I have known no other man besides my husband… who is dead now."

"You still love him."

"I do. But his death has been so recent. It is the nature of men for our hearts to mend as time goes by", she replied.

"Perhaps one day you will love another, then", he whispered.

"Perhaps", she said after him. "Have you ever loved another?"

He shook his head in negation. "That would be exceedingly improbable."

"But not impossible", she said with a smile, and then stood from the sofa. She walked over to the fireplace and added some more logs to burn. Thranduil noticed how she cared not to keep away from the fire. Her hands touched the flames, but not the slightest harm would come to her.

"Impressive", he muttered.

"What?"

"You are unburnt. You touch the flames like I would touch water."

She smiled again. "Need I say once more that I am the dragon's daughter?"

The Elvenking laughed heartily, a sound deep and lyrical to Daenerys' ears. "It is one thing to say it and another to witness it", he said.

She glanced at the dancing flames, and their wild dance reflected in her indigo eyes. "I suppose it is", she murmured.

A moment of silence passed between them, during which only the crackling of the burning wood would be heard. And then Daenerys spoke again and said, "What was your purpose of coming here this evening, my lord? Surely it was not for idle chatter."

"Why not?" he asked with a smirk.

Her knowing glance forced him to drop the pretenses. "I merely wished to see how you are faring, and to converse with you, for I find all you have to say fascinating."

"I am faring well", she told him rather curtly, and her silence that followed prompted him to speak on.

"I also wished to invite you to a walk in the woods tomorrow. It is going to snow tonight, and by the morrow the woods will look majestic, white and crisp with snow and ice. You can take with you one of the dragons, if you wish, to give him a chance to fly freely. What do you say, Daenerys?"

Her face became one of gratitude and enthusiasm. "Would you really do that for me?"

He smiled and rose from his seat, coming to stand close to her. "Why would I not? I did not forget what you said about the dragons needing their freedom, in order for them to grow unhindered."

"I gladly accept your invitation, hîr vuin. And I have been wanting to go out in your forest for some time now", she told him with shining eyes.

"Then be sure to dress warmly, for it is going to be freezing", he said softly and smiled at her.

Daenerys smiled back. "You are kind and generous, my King. I was truly fortunate to happen upon your path."

"I treat my guests with honor. My wrath I save for those who defy me", he replied, but though spoken in a spirit of mirth, she could see the steel and ice in the depths of his eyes. It was a jest, as well as a warning.

"You speak like Aegon the Dragon would have spoken…" she whispered. When she saw the question in his eyes, she said, "He was an enigma to many. Kind, generous and forgiving to those who bent the knee, but unyielding and wrathful with his enemies. He was a solitary person, with very few true friends. And he remained faithful to his sister-wives…"

"It does sound as if we share some traits", Thranduil admitted. "And was this Aegon loved and well-remembered in song?"

"He was the greatest King that has ever lived", Daenerys replied, and looked into Thranduil's eyes.

He took her meaning and gave her a half-smile. "Do not seek to flatter me, Daenerys."

"I do not", she replied frankly.

They kept looking into each other's eyes, until Daenerys felt a little uncomfortable under his intense silver gaze, and she averted her eyes. Thranduil sensed her discomfort, and stepped back, choosing to return to his place upon the sofa.

"I expect that you will be ready by dawn tomorrow", he said.

"By dawn?" she turned to him with an incredulous look about her.

He laughed. "Is that too early? No, I would not want us to miss the wonderful light of the rising sun. You will appreciate it and thank me once you see it."

She tilted her head to the side, causing her now dry locks to caress her shoulders. "You speak of light often", she noted.

He nodded. "We elves love the light. All light is sacred to us. But the light of the stars we love best."

"Why?" she inquired, and came to sit beside him, not minding the closeness this time.

"When we awakened in Cuiviénen, there was only the night sky embroidered with the stars above us, and only their pale, silver light to guide us. These were the times before the sun and the moon were created, Daenerys", he reminded her.

"Yes, I remember you telling me about the Years of the Trees. It mystifies me, how two trees provided all the light of the world…" she mused.

"There is abundant lore on that, and many ancient scrolls in the library for you to read, if you would like", he informed her.

"I would. There is so much to learn of your world, and since now I am a part of it, I would like to know as much as possible", she told him. Then suddenly she remembered the question she had meant to ask him. "My lord", she began, and he turned his eyes to her with interest. "There is something I would like to ask you about." He nodded and gestured for her to go on. "I was wondering if it could be possible that I took up some occupation here, seeing that my daily routine is filled with many empty hours. Would you object to that?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Why would I object? But have you anything specific in mind?"

A small smile lit her face. "I find I like the herbal garden, and healing thereafter."

The King smiled in return, but before he had the chance to speak, a knock on the door was heard, interrupting them. Daenerys stood to her feet and made for the door, saying, "It must be Istuives. We are to have a lesson."

And truly, the dark-haired elleth appeared on the threshold, as soon as Daenerys opened the door. "Good evening, my dear", she greeted her, but then noticed Thranduil too. "Hîr nín Thranduil, I did not expect to find you here", she said and bowed.

The King rose and waved for Istuives to stand straight. "It is alright, Istuives. I shall not linger here. You may begin your lesson." Then he turned to Daenerys. "You may visit the herbal garden as often as you like. And our appointment stands, Daenerys. Do try to be ready on time", he told her with a grin, and then walked to the door.

"I will", she promised, and watched him as he went.

He said he would not linger, and yet he paused on the doorstep, and gave the mother of dragons one last glance. She held his gaze, determined not to look away this time. In the end it was he who yielded; he spun on his heel and marched off.

The day dawned crisp and bright, with a veil of snow covering everything, as the Elvenking had predicted. There he stood now, on the near end of the bridge outside his Halls, and waited for Daenerys. He was clad in a warm surcoat and cloak of silver-blue, with embroidery in the likeness of stars. Upon his head he wore a fine silver circlet, adorned with a single white gem. On his belt his sword was strapped, for he would not go into the woods unarmed.

Before long the grand gates creaked open, and Daenerys walked through. In her hand she held a rod with a chain attached to its far end, and there the black dragonling was tied by the foot. He flew above her head, and was larger than Thranduil remembered him. He must be the size of a dog now, the King thought. He flapped his wings against the air with excitement, as he truly used them to fly for the first time. Their span had grown, and they seemed less translucent now, but thickened and leathery instead. Black was his body and scales, and his horns, spinal crest and eyes blood red. He was a marvel to behold, and the Elvenking stared at him in awe.

"You see him now as he should be", Daenerys spoke as she approached him. "A dragon must fly."

He removed his eyes from the beast and turned them to her. "Indeed", he admitted. "I see you chose to bring out Drogon first."

"Yes. He is the one I have the strongest bond with. And he is the largest of the three, and most unruly. He needs training", she told him.

"Come then, and he shall have the chance to taste freedom", the King said, and began walking.

Daenerys stepped beside him. She was wearing a heavy, fur-trimmed cloak in the color of earthly brown. Beneath she chose to wear leather pants and boots, and a warm, woolen tunic under her leather vest. The cold was biting, and she did not wish to take her chances.

"It is as you had said", she began. "Snow covers everything, and the light of dawn makes it glimmer like pearls and diamonds."

The rays of the sun tore through the sparse clouds, illuminating the world beneath. They fell upon tree and leaf, and upon rock and thorn, showering them with golden light. Fir, holly and ilex shone in their wintry glory, retaining their green in defiance of the season. The path upon which the pair walked was covered in fresh snow, and it cracked and crunched beneath their steps. Thranduil walked with his chin slightly lifted in the air, and with half-lidded eyes. If Daenerys looked closely, she would see he had a soft smile upon his lips.

"This is the beauty of winter", he said in a quiet tone, enjoying the feel of the cool morning breeze upon his face.

"You do seem to enjoy it", Daenerys commented, while she pulled the furry trim of her cloak closer to her face, trying to ward off the cold. On her right hand Drogon kept pulling persistently, begging to be released.

Thranduil turned his eyes to the dragon, whose flapping had become more noisy and inconsistent. "Let him go, Daenerys", he suggested. "Let him fly above the trees."

She looked at him thoughtfully. What if Drogon gets lost? He is but a baby… one voice told her. But another said: no, do not be silly. He is a dragon, and he is bonded with you. He will know how to return to you instinctively. In the end she nodded. "Alright", she said, and lowered the chain. Thranduil helped unfasten it from Drogon's leg, and the dragon thanked them with a loud shriek. And then he took to the sky at once, beating his wings strongly against the wind currents. Daenerys and Thranduil watched him as he ascended. He circled above them a few times, and then flew off into the distance.

"I do hope he finds me again", she said worriedly.

"He will", the King reassured her. "I do not believe he will fly too far, anyway. He is still small, and he will seek your protection soon."

"Do not mistake a dragon for a kitten. They are wild, untamed creatures. Drogon will do as he pleases", she said. "But he needs to hunt. I hope you do not mind one or two hares less in your forest", she said mirthfully.

Thranduil shook his head. "I have deep respect for all life, from the smallest animal to the oldest tree. But such are the laws of nature, that some beasts must prey on others to survive. As long as the balance is kept, life flows harmoniously. If it is disrupted, I shall immediately feel it. As the sickness that covers the southern part of the forest…" he sighed.

"What do you mean you would feel it? How could that be?" she inquired.

Thranduil looked at her as he explained. "The elves are one with nature. We cannot live apart from it. And this forest is my realm. I am its sovereign and protector. I share a bond with every living thing in it. And if something goes awry, I sense it."

"It sounds like the workings of magic to me."

"I would say it is more like the bond you share with your dragons. Inexplicable, but real."

"And what of the sickness you spoke of? What is this?"

Thranduil let out yet another sigh. "It pains me to speak of this, but I shall tell you nonetheless. Since long now a shadow has fallen upon these woods… When the Dark Lord returned to Middle-Earth, he made his stronghold upon Dol Guldur, a hill in the southern region of the forest. There stands an old elven fort, which used to be our residence once. But the Dark Lord claimed it, and since then evil and darkness seeps out of this accursed place, tainting the woods around it, poisoning and corrupting all life. And though he has been banished from Dol Guldur and fled to Mordor, his Lieutenants remain there, the terrible Nazgûl, and thus his influence continues. My forest is sick, Daenerys. It has lost its former beauty and glory, and I can feel its torment and decay with each passing moment", he finished his narration and turned his now sorrowful eyes to her.

Daenerys watched him with sadness. This ancient creature, a spirit of nature, felt too deeply the plights of the forest he called his kingdom. She gave a look around; all she could see was trees and bushes, birds flying from bough to bough, and squirrels occasionally rustling through the foliage. The forest looked dark indeed, with its olden trees, trunks thick and gnarled, branches reaching far above and twining with each other, at places barring all light from reaching the ground. And it was silent, perhaps unusually so, as if all life was asleep. But she could not feel the evil presence Thranduil had spoken of. She could not sense the influence of any Dark Lord, and she could not see the constant deterioration Thranduil could see. To her it seemed only a forest, a bit dark perhaps, but then again she had not walked in many forests.

"It must bring you great sorrow, to feel all these things so keenly", she commented quietly.

He inhaled deeply. "You cannot even begin to imagine the measure of sorrow it brings me."

"I am sorry", she muttered, not knowing what else to say. "I hope one day your forest is restored to what it once was."

"For that to happen, Sauron must be overthrown."

"Is he such a terrible foe?" Daenerys wondered.

"He is shapeless, formless… a black spirit of great power that seeks dominion over Middle-Earth. He possesses vast knowledge, and he is cunning beyond perception. His servants are countless, and he has eyes everywhere. But for him to regain his full power, he must first obtain the One Ring, forged by himself, and in it he has poured all the malice of his spirit. He is bound to its fate, and the ring ever seeks to return to its Master", the Elvenking said. "You must understand, Daenerys, Sauron is the embodiment of pure evil. There is nothing good in him, nor any hope for him ever to repent for his horrid deeds."

"And you think my dragons, once grown, will help defeat him? Is he even vulnerable to fire?" she asked him.

"He was defeated once, he can be defeated again. The more powerful weapons we have in our armory, the better our chances to win this war. And dragons are the most powerful of weapons, as you, too, very well know, Daenerys." Her thoughtful look prompted him to speak on. "Do not give me wrong. I do not seek to exploit you, nor is my courtesy feigned. Such things are not in the nature of elves. But when in dire need, you seek all the help you can get."

"Yes, you have told me so before."

"Forgive me if I repeat myself, but…" he sighed. "I have lost too much in the wars against evil. I have seen the destruction of fair cities, and the desolation that follows. I have witnessed the decimation of armies, and countless of my kin die… even my own family: my father, my wife… I have tasted the bitterness of war, and I abhor it. I vowed to never again engage in the dealings of the world, choosing to remain secluded in my Halls, and for some long years I did so. But I cannot sit idly now, when the Shadow threatens our very existence. I have to be ready for the oncoming war", he told her firmly.

They came now upon a small lake amidst the trees. They were sparser here, and the still, silver waters shone icy clear under the rays of the sun. Around its shores a flower grew, its blossom small and bell-like, with snow-white petals and bright green stem and leaves. Daenerys left Thranduil's side and approached the shore, curious to examine the beautiful flowers. She dropped to one knee and, taking off one glove, she carefully traced the delicate petals with her fingers.

The King came to stand beside her. "It is called Alfirin… immortal. We also call it Uilos, ever-white. It blooms all year round."

"It is beautiful", she said softly, and her eyes shone bright.

He crouched next to her, and picked one flower. Daenerys watched him with her breath caught in her throat as he nimbly pinned it in her braid. "Not as beautiful as you", he whispered.

Caught unprepared, she kept staring at him with her lips slightly parted, and her cheeks flushed by the cold and by her embarrassment. He let his fingers lightly trace her temple, as he slowly removed his hand. But he did not remove his gaze, which was now deep and emotional, a thousand stars shining in the depths of his eyes.

He is mesmerizing. Those eyes… I can look into their depths forever, she mused. "Thranduil…" she began breathlessly, and it seemed to her that he leaned closer.

How can I tear myself from those violet pools? How can I forget the way they look at me, full of want and unspoken desire? Not once in so many eons have I felt such thrill, such overwhelming emotion, the Elvenking thought, and brought his index finger gently beneath her chin. He tilted his head a little, and she stood there, heart beating fast and waiting…

And then a loud screech tore the air, and they suddenly broke apart, as if struck by lightning. Daenerys looked away, red as a beet, and Thranduil sighed. Meanwhile, Drogon came to land in front of them, flapping his wings over the surface of the lake and spraying them with cold water unintentionally.

"Drogon! Stop that!" Daenerys mock-reprimanded him, and laughed, thankful that her child had provided her with a means to quickly escape the difficult position she had been put in and get over her disconcertment.

The dragonling squawked in response, and craned his long neck forth, to nuzzle his nose in his mother's hand. Thranduil observed them in amusement. "See? He easily found his way back to you."

"Yes. He is intelligent", she said with pride in her eyes. "How was your first flight, Drogon? Did you manage to hunt anything?" she addressed the questions to the little dragon, as she lovingly pet his head, eliciting cries of delight from his part.

The Elvenking lowered his weight upon a flat rock, while Daenerys was occupied with Drogon. He allowed his gaze to fall onto distant trees, but his focus was not on what he was seeing ahead. What would have happened, had the dragon not appeared? Would I have kissed her? Ah, I allowed myself to be carried away far too much. I was under the effect of the serenity of the lake, and the beauty of the flowers, and her proximity… It cannot be that I have feelings for her. It is unreasonable. I am merely fascinated by her peculiar story and her dragons. I should not misinterpret my feelings.

"Hîr vuin?" Her voice pulled him out of his musings.

"Yes?"

"Perhaps we should return home. Drogon does not seem willing to fly off again, and I admit the cold has chilled me to the bone. I very much miss my hearth now", she said and stood, fastening now the chain on the dragon's leg.

"Of course. Let us go back."

Silently they walked side by side back to Thranduil's Halls, neither of them willing to bring up their almost-kiss, though it vividly danced in their thoughts. Both kept to their own, battling themselves and their feelings. Who would win, only time could tell.