Chapter 17

Summer came, bright and warm. The days became longer still, and the sun rose early and lingered in the sky, lending its light and warmth to the earth. The trees were green with new leaf and the birds sang merrily on their branches. The waters in the forest streams ran clear and calm, and the grass grew tall. And the elves of the Woodland Realm were busy those days, for the preparations for Midsummer's Eve had begun, and they took a whole week until everything was ready for the celebration. The King had decided that this year the feast would be held in honor of their guest, Daenerys Targaryen, for she had proved to be loyal and true when she saved his life from the orcs. And any elf that had placed a bet that those celebrations were to be combined came now and collected the earnings.

Daenerys wandered out of the Halls more often now that the weather was brilliant, and she liked to watch the preparations in the gardens, for there would the feast take place. The royal gardens were wide, and made below the hill in which the Halls were built, where it opened and created a protected haven among the concave rock and the trees of the forest. Cobblestone paths went between flowerbeds, and in the middle there was a fountain and a large square. Upon there and on the grass beyond several tents were being erected, small and large, and elves upon ladders hang lanterns from poles and festive garlands made of twined flowers and greenery. Long tables and benches were being brought outside and placed under the tents, and a platform was built for the minstrels to stand during the feast.

There she stood now, dressed in a pale rose gown, and watched the elves, when she heard footsteps approaching from behind. She turned in curiosity and there walked the King and the Prince along with two of the councilors. They have come to inspect the preparations, she thought, and moved aside, not wishing to be seen. But Thranduil's eyes had found her, and his gaze pierced her as he passed her by.

They stopped on the square, and the King called the chief builder. "How go the preparations?" he asked.

"Excellent, my lord. All shall be ready in time for the feast", the ellon chimed.

"Very well", Thranduil said with a nod of his head.

"Where would you like your tent to stand?" the builder asked.

"The same place as every year, Lanthiron. Make sure to place high seats, for myself, my son, and our honored guest as well. Legolas will sit on my right and she on my left. Is that understood?" the Elvenking required under a raised brow.

"It is, my lord. All shall be done as you ask."

Then Lanthiron was dismissed, as the King and his companions scattered, inspecting the decorations and giving orders to the builders, when they wished for something to be moved or altered. But Thranduil's steps deliberately brought him to where Daenerys was standing, and he looked at her. "Daenerys, there is no need for you to linger in the shadows. Come forth. This feast will be held in your honor", he spoke formally, but not unkindly.

She took a few steps. "I did not wish to be in your way, my lord. You came here for business, and I was only watching the preparations, to help pass the time", she replied, and the sorrow in her voice did not go unnoticed by Thranduil.

He looked at her more closely. "Are you well?" he asked her, trying to sound even as before.

"I am", she answered, but averted her gaze.

He knew her well enough to understand that she was not telling the truth. "What did you do with the scroll I gave you?"

She brought her eyes back to him, and they were darker with dread and aversion. "I burned it."

"You burned it?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes. I detest its content. I want nothing to do with such vile workings. Never would I take a life to leave this world. Even the mere thought of it makes my stomach roil", she replied in a strained voice, and pressed her lips tight. Then she returned her violet eyes to him. "But you have kept your end of the bargain; you helped me find a way to leave this world. It is not your fault that it should be such a dark and evil way. It is nobody's fault…" She shook her head. "And I will keep my promise. The dragons are growing. When the time of war comes, you shall have my aid."

"If only it need not be thus", he lamented.

She forced herself to present a hard exterior. "In my short life I have learned that only seldom do things go as we plan them. Life surprises us more often than not."

"That is most true", he agreed, and looked idly at the fountain in the distance.

She watched him from the corner of her eye. He misses me, I can tell. I can feel it. I can feel his spirit wishing to reach for mine, but he holds back. "We have to adapt to what life serves us", she said.

"What will you do, then? Will you stay?" he asked her, returning his gaze to her.

"I have no choice, do I?" Her voice came harder than she had intended, and she saw his brow furrow.

"After you have fulfilled your promise, I will ask no more of you. If we emerge victorious and the Shadow is defeated, you may be free to do what you will. You may travel as you wish, and see all the places of Middle-Earth. Your life need not be confined in my dark and gloomy Halls. There are marvelous sights beyond my borders for you to see, and those sights might alleviate the pain in your heart", he told her softly, all hardness gone from him now. For an instance he was the ellon she had come to know in the past months, and not the cold King he became after they had fallen out.

He remembers. He remembers I have told him I wish to travel, and he wants to give me that chance. Oh, Thranduil, your heart is gentle. But I have hurt you, I know. I refused to be frank with you, I denied my own feelings, and I shunned yours. I had chosen to focus on my purpose to find a way back to my own world then, and how could I ever leave if I let myself love you? But there is no hope for that now, and there is no hope to regain your trust and your love again… I have betrayed you.

He saw that her gaze was lost and sorrowful. "I am telling you this now because I want you to know it and remember it", he went on. "For if I do not survive the war…"

"Do not say that", she interrupted him, and the depths of her eyes trembled.

He shook his head and sighed. "Still, it is an undeniable truth. My father was a great warrior and yet he perished in the war. We do not know what the future holds. So, I want you to know that you will be free, whether I live or not."

Suddenly the prospect of his death panicked her. He was the Elvenking, gracious, ever-young and immortal. To speak of his death seemed so unnatural, almost blasphemy. Is this how he felt when he lost his father, and his wife? That immortal lives were not meant to be taken, and death should not be a finality for them, not an inescapable fate, as it is for mortals. And yet he speaks of death so plainly, so dispassionately, almost as if…

She peered deep into his eyes, and dared speak thus: "One might say you long for death to deliver you, my lord."

He held her gaze for a while, and his frown deepened. "When the duty to my people and to my realm is done, I have no purpose here. I have an heir to take over the crown… and if it is my fate to die in combat, then I will greet it gladly."

At that he turned and walked away, unwilling to look at her again or speak more of his dismal thoughts. Daenerys watched his silhouette shrink in the distance. He wore a radiant white cloak, which caught and reflected the light as he went. But she found the color of his raiment to be at odds with his mood, and her heart grew heavy with sorrow for him. She was sorry for him, she was sorry for herself, she was sorry for them both.

And the days went by, as the passing of time is always even and impartial, regardless of the plans or feelings of the living beings. Midsummer's Eve was come at last. As soon as the sun took to the west and its light dimmed and the heat of the day dissipated, the elves gathered in the royal gardens and the celebrations began.

The Elvenking, dressed in long robes of silvery silk and wearing his summer crown of elanor and alfirin blossoms, looked splendid as he stood on the square before the fountain, and addressed his people. "Tonight we celebrate the Sun, and her life-stirring power. Were it not for her warm embrace, our world would fall to darkness and death. Days of summer are ahead of us, and may they be days of joy and prosperity. May Elbereth Gilthoniel, who created the Sun and the Moon a long time ago, bless us in our toil and light our path with wisdom. May she fill our hearts with hope and courage, for dark times await us. May our hearts soar like the golden Sun." He made a small pause then, and turned his gaze to Daenerys, where she was seated under the royal tent. "But this day I also dedicate to Daenerys Targaryen, a woman of another world, but who has come to call our world her own. For she has proven her loyalty and benign nature, when she and her dragons saved her guards and myself from a dire fate in the hands of the orcs." At that Amdiron and Bregedir cheered from their seats, and Daenerys blushed. "To express my deepest gratitude, I have revoked her exile and welcomed her back in my Halls, as she deserved. Daenerys, come forth, if you may", he called to her. She rose and walked to him, and bowed low before him. "Rise now, for I have a gift for you." He produced a circlet from his robes, and it was fine and made of silver and beset with a single amethyst. She gasped, for she had not anticipated it, and inclined her head. Thranduil placed the circlet upon her silver head, and it gleamed brilliantly. "This is Edhelvir, the elf-jewel. With this gift I also bestow upon you the title of Elvellon, Elf-friend. May you be known as such, and let it never be disputed", he concluded.

The crowd burst in loud applause and cheers, and Daenerys looked around with a smile and tears in her eyes, deeply moved. The King stood beside her and watched her with a small smile. His heart longed to share her joy, but he knew it could not be; she had turned from him, and there seemed to be nothing left to be reclaimed. Leaving her to enjoy her moment, he returned to his pavilion, and took his seat at the long table.

"That was beautifully done, Adar", Legolas said, filling his father's glass with wine.

Thranduil nodded and smiled briefly, but could not tear his eyes from Daenerys, who was now receiving compliments and flowers from the gathered elves. The minstrels began playing sweet music and singing summer songs, and the atmosphere in the gardens was one of revelry and joy.

A while later Daenerys came back to her appointed seat of honor, and she was holding an armful of flowers. "What am I supposed to do with all these?" she wondered audibly as she sat, carefully freeing her arms from their load and laying the flowers on the table.

"You could make my father several new crowns, for starters!" Legolas jested.

Daenerys laughed spontaneously, but Thranduil tried to look serious, although the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "Do not be silly, Legolas…" he murmured.

He gave Daenerys a side-glance then, and she met his eyes. But discomfort came over her, and she lowered her gaze. A servant came then and filled her cup, and soon the first dishes arrived. All was exquisite and delicious, and Thranduil tried to enjoy the food, although he felt he had no appetite. For memories of the winter-feast had come to his mind, and he remembered how she had leaned against him and slept on his shoulder before the fireplace. Then their love had been young and innocent. But afterwards it became tainted with mistrust and rejection, and he doubted Daenerys felt anything more than respect for him now. And perhaps it was only his position as King that she revered, and not himself for who he was. She lived in his Halls, was under his power, she depended on him; of course she had to show respect and behave accordingly. But she did not love him, or she would not have fled from him without a word of explanation. And he felt angry and hurt, for he had revealed himself to her, he had shown her his hideous scars and opened his heart to her, but she had been afraid to accept all that and love him in return.

"Daenerys, shall we dance?" Legolas asked her, offering to take her hand.

The Prince's smooth voice brought a smile to her face. "It would be an honor, my lord", she replied, and took his hand.

The Elvenking watched as his son led her to the square, and there they mingled with the other dancing elves. His eyes lingered upon her form, soft and curvaceous beneath the fine material of her gown, which was deep blue and adorned with silver thread, making her look like a star in the night sky. And her loose tresses caressed her shoulders as she danced, and glimmered under the light of the lanterns. She possessed not the grace of an elleth, neither was her beauty ethereal and intangible, but she moved with a dynamism and an authority of her own, like a true Queen of men. He watched her mesmerized, safe in the knowledge that her attention was on Legolas. But at one moment as she turned, her eyes met his, deep pools of amethyst, like the jewel on her forehead, and the depths of his own eyes trembled, and the corners of his lips turned down in a frown of frustration. He tore his eyes from hers, and downed the content of his goblet.

But Daenerys was no fool, and she perceived his distressed state. She suspected that beneath the cold and collected surface he burned for her, but was at war with himself, trying to sort his conflicted feelings. And so she returned her gaze to the Prince, and kept on dancing.

The hours passed merrily for the feasting elves, and the music and wine and food were aplenty. But now, as the night settled and the silver stars shone brightly in the sky, the elves began to scatter in the gardens. Some played games of hide and seek, and others had pre-organized treasure-hunting games, and now, under the veil of darkness, it was time for them to play. But there were others, young couples mostly, who sought a corner away from the crowd, to share kisses and exchange vows of love. Legolas was stolen away by a red-haired elleth, whose emerald eyes and bright smiles had rendered the Prince unable to deny her anything, much to the disapproval of his father. "She is a childhood friend, ada, nothing more", he had reassured him, but Thranduil only shook his head and quirked an eyebrow. Still, he did not object to his son running away with the elleth tonight, and he seemed oddly quiet. All he did was return to his glass, only to find it empty, and move to refill it once more.

But Daenerys gripped the handle of the flagon first, and he looked at her with a startle. "My lord, is that wise? You have drunk too much…"

He raised his chin and took the flagon nonetheless. "Are you counting my cups of wine, Daenerys?"

"No, of course not, but…" she sighed. It was not her place to question his habit. Instead, she chose to change the subject. "Who was that elleth? A friend of Legolas', perhaps? I have not seen her before…"

Thranduil grunted. "She is a Captain in the Guard, and has been friends with Legolas since both were children… You have not seen her because she only recently returned from her banishment", he replied grumpily.

"Banishment? What did she do?"

He turned to face her, and his eyes were hard as steel. "She threatened my life."

Daenerys stood dumbfounded. How was it ever possible for an elf to threaten to take the life of another, and their King at that? During her time with the elves, she had learned that for the elves kinslaying was considered the most heinous crime, an unforgivable one. "But… why?" she uttered.

He shook his head, turning his attention back to his wine, and took a generous sip. "It is a long and unpleasant story", he said, obviously unwilling to share said story.

"But you forgave her, since she is here", Daenerys deduced.

"I did, for the sake of my child, who loves her like a blind fool." He downed the rest of his wine and refilled the goblet at once.

"We are all fools when it comes to love…" she murmured, but instantly regretted her words. What had come upon her, to speak of love to Thranduil?

"Yes, we are. And the biggest fool is I", he scoffed, and stood from the table, taking his cup along as he paced away into the shadows, away from the feast.

"My lord?" she called to him, but he did not turn to look at her. She sprang from her seat then and ran after him, for he walked with quick, long strides. "My lord!" she called again, and at last he stopped and turned to face her.

"What do you want, Daenerys? Can I not have a moment of solitude?"

He sounded weary rather than angry, and the look in his eyes broke her heart. "You are unwell, I can see that", she said.

He sighed and turned his back to her, hanging his head and abandoning his goblet on the marble bench beside him. "You should return to the celebration. It is in your honor, and you will be missed."

"I do not care", she said in defiance. "I would rather be here, with you."

The words came unbidden through her lips, and the path she was now treading on caused her heart to race. He looked at her from over his shoulder. Her eyes were intense and glazed over with unshed tears. "Why?" he asked.

"I owe you an explanation", she said, taking a step closer to him.

He turned to her then, but a deep frown was upon his brow. "It is too late for that."

"It is not."

His great height loomed above her now. "You vanished without a word."

"I did."

"And you refused to talk to me the day after… You grew cold and distant, and I was wondering what had happened. I was asking myself what I had done wrong, to scare you away like that…" he spoke, and his voice sounded on the verge on breaking.

"You did nothing wrong."

"Then what was it, Daenerys? You said you owe me an explanation, so let us hear it", he challenged her, looking down at her intently.

She did not remove her eyes from his. "I was afraid…"

"Afraid of what?" he asked impatiently.

"Afraid to love you! I realized I was one tiny step from loving you, and fear paralyzed me. I did not want to have to let go of you. I did not want to suffer loss. I did not want to bond with you, when my true purpose was to return to my world", she confessed, tears now silently marking their trails on her cheeks.

She turned from him, breathless and upset, not ready to face his reaction. "You retreated out of fear, that much I had gathered", he muttered. "And I understand your reasons. However, this does not mean I did not feel hurt and betrayed, when I had bared myself to you. And I had promised you I would be patient. I did not deserve such behavior", he went on in a low, calm voice, which bore sadness and not wrath. "You should have trusted me, you should have spoken to me of your fear. And I would have never put pressure on you, Daenerys. But you chose to shun me and leave me in the dark instead."

"Can you not forgive me?" she whispered, attempting to reach for him with her fingertips.

But he drew back. "You have my forgiveness, if that will put your heart at ease", he responded almost nonchalantly. "I have forgiven much worse crimes as it is", he mused.

He turned to leave then, and picked up his goblet from the bench. "Do you not care anymore?" she asked him with dread in her heart for what his answer might be.

"It does not really matter, since you never wanted to care."

He vanished into the darkness, leaving her alone, to cry her bitter tears of regret.

The night was well in its course and the celebration had ended, when Daenerys decided to take the grand step and headed for the King's chambers. When she reached the carved oaken doors, she paused and took a deep breath, trying to steady the frantic beat of her heart. She knocked then twice, and waited for a response.

The door was unlocked and opened then, and Thranduil's silver-blue eyes gazed down at her. "What do you want?" he hissed unceremoniously, looking as if he had half-expected her visit.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I love you."

He was taken aback. "What?"

"I love you!" she cried.

His brow furrowed. "I do not believe you", he spat, and made to shut the door at her face.

But she grabbed his wrist forcefully. "You will listen to me!"

Her authoritative tone made him recoil a bit. He freed his hand from her grasp and drew back, putting some distance between them. "What more have we to say?"

She walked into his chambers and took a deep breath to calm her raging temper. She knew that shouting and arguing would lead them nowhere, and would only make things worse. "Can we speak civilly, please?" she asked of him.

He regarded her for a moment, and then he denoted his assent with a nod of his head. "I hear you."

"It took all my courage to walk to your chambers tonight", she began.

"And it was a very audacious thing to do", he remarked sternly.

"I know. But earlier in the garden I was not ready to talk, and you would not listen. I could not go to bed when the burden of my heart was so heavy. I had to see you, and tell you that I love you", she spoke solemnly.

"You insist!" he exclaimed in indignation. "What hope you to gain by telling me this lie is beyond me", he muttered grimly.

"What I hope to gain?" she repeated his words, her turn now to feel insulted. "I hope to gain nothing! Only your love, if your heart has not frozen over already", she retorted.

His frown deepened. "Now that all your hopes of returning to your world are lost, you come to me and say to me that you love me. How can you expect me to believe that? For it seems to me it is consolation you seek, and not love."

"I will not be called a liar", she said and lifted a threatening finger towards him. "But I see you are resolved in your views. I thought you knew me better than this; I thought you believed in me, and you trusted me, but I was wrong", she said, sounding disappointed.

"I did trust you. I chose to trust you against all odds, when everyone was against you, and thank the Valar I was not wrong about you not being evil. But opening my heart to you was a mistake. I trusted my most intimate thoughts and truths to you, and you betrayed that trust. You ran without a word", he told her, his voice now laden with a mixture of emotions.

"It must always come to that, then", she concluded. "That I ran away. Yes, Thranduil, I ran. I was scared. I was a coward. I admit it. But is it such an unforgivable crime?" she burst out, and tears ran from her eyes, though she had not wished to look weak in front of him.

"I have granted you my forgiveness", he reminded her.

"Only in words! And it is not enough!" she cried.

"What else do you want?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, his eyes of icy fire bearing hard into hers.

"I want what you deny me now." She placed her palms on his chest as he held her. "I have hurt you, I know. I should never have hurt you. But I thought of myself first, I was selfish. I wanted to protect myself from being hurt again, and I thought that detaching myself from you was the answer. You deserved an explanation, you are right. I should have been honest with you from the start… but I was not. But, you must know, and please believe me when I say it, I cherish all you have given me. I am not as unworthy and ignoble as you have come to think me to be. Is it now too late? Has your heart turned from me?"

He watched her as she spoke, and something broke inside him. A tear ran from his good eye, as every trace of anger disappeared. "I do not know…"

His grip of her softened, and she stepped forth, closing the distance between their bodies. "Thranduil…" she whispered his name softly, and wiped his tear away. "Do you not love me?"

He looked at her with all the sadness of the world. "Daenerys, Daenerys…" he breathed, and his hand cupped her cheek softly. "You are not ready to hear it."

Her gaze flickered. "I am not? But I have confessed my love for you."

He shook his head gently. "Your heart is in turmoil. And men often speak things in haste, or out of despair. You are not ready yet."

She cast her eyes low, a wave of sheer dismay washing over her. She had not expected to be rejected in this way. She had thought he would accept her love in the end, and profess his own. But she was wrong…

She slowly retreated from his embrace, feeling cold inside. "So, you still do not believe me", she said bleakly, her voice barely audible.

"We shall speak again of this, when the time is right", he replied, evading her question.

"And when will this time be?"

"You will know it, when it comes. I am patient. You should be, too", he advised her.

She turned from him, utterly hopeless and dejected, and hastily wiped her tears away. Her brave effort had been in vain. She had spoken to him of her love, overcoming her own fears, and he did not believe her. He thought her feeble and childish, and her words held little gravity for him. "This was a mistake", she murmured.

He approached her and touched her hair. "Daenerys, sweet child…"

"I am not a child!" she cried in frustration, batting his hand away.

But there it was again, his hand touching the side of her head. "You are not…" He caressed her temple. "And yet you are", he said enigmatically. "Do not misinterpret my words tonight. I am not shunning you, and neither am I turning you down. It is my heart's fondest desire to have your love, but it must be true, and given in earnest. Do not go to your bed with tears upon your beautiful face," he spoke softly, and brushed away what tears remained on her cheeks. "Let your heart be calm, and free of pain. I would never wish you to hurt on my behalf…"

She returned her violet gaze to him. "And what of you? All these days you have been walking around like a ghost, a permanent frown has etched itself upon your face, and you never smile… You always look so sorrowful and grim, like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. Am I the reason for all of this? Have I truly caused you so much pain?" she asked him in dread.

He sighed, and walked away, pacing towards the window. A light breeze blew on his face, and he closed his eyes, allowing it to cool his forehead. "I will not deny that much of my grief has to do with you… But a King has many things to consider, as you will learn one day, when you will become Queen of your people…" his voice trailed off.

"That will never come to pass", she told him sullenly. "I can never go back. I am no Queen. I have never been anything more than a pawn in the hands of the powerful."

He glanced at her. "Forgive me. The scroll had slipped off of my mind, and I did not mean to remind you of your fate, which now seems to be bound to this world."

She shook her head. "I have accepted that truth, and although it grieves me, it cannot be changed. I will live my life here, not as a Queen, but as a simple woman", she said quietly.

He turned to her. "You are not a simple woman, Daenerys. You are a Queen at heart. You have walked through flames unburnt, you are the mother of dragons. And I owe you my life; I will never forget that. It is not titles that make us what we are, but deeds, and the quality of our character."

She gave him a small smile. "Your words soothe my heart", she told him softly. But then her gaze became stern. "And yes, I saved your life. And I demand that you take care of it, and not disregard it as if it is unimportant. I never again want to hear you say you long for death. Life is precious, it is a gift, and it is not to be thrown away."

He walked to her and smiled down at her. "Your moments of wisdom make you even dearer to me. See, I told you, you are a child, and yet you are not."

They peered deep into each other's eyes for a long time, content to simply exist in each other's presence. "It was not a mistake, after all", Daenerys mused.

"What?"

"Coming to you tonight. I feel we have managed to reconnect, and have understood each other", she replied.

He nodded. "My heart feels lighter now. A burden has been lifted."

Her fingers played with the silken strands of his hair, and then traced the left side of his face. It looked flawless. "Drop the glamor", she asked of him, all of a sudden.

"What?"

"You heard me. Drop the glamor. I would have the real you. No more secrets, no more lies. No more fear", she spoke with confidence.

It always made him uneasy to present his true self, and he seldom did. "Are you sure?" he asked with reluctance evident in his tone.

"Of course", she answered with a reassuring smile. But she could see that he still struggled to accept himself as he was, even though thousands of years had passed.

The glamor gradually faded then, and his horrible scars came into view. One bright eye gazed back at her, and a blind one stared into nothingness. She brought her hand to caress his ugly side again. "You keep the glamor on even when you are alone in your room…" It was not a question, but a conclusion.

"Yes…"

"Do you hate yourself, Thranduil? Do you hate your image when you look in the mirror?" she asked him tenderly, her caress never ceasing.

He took a shaky breath. "Sometimes", he admitted. "But I always see the scars, even when the glamor is on. I know who I am, there is no hiding from the truth", he told her solemnly.

"The scars do not define who you are."

"But they have shaped me into who I am. They are part of me, as much as my beating heart", he responded, and took her hand and laid it upon the place of his heart.

"I love you, scars and all", she whispered to him, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating to her palm through the thin material of his summer robes.

One corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. "I told you not to be hasty with these words…"

"I will repeat them to you until you believe me", she said defiantly.

"And what if it takes a long time?" he teased her.

"Oh, it will not, for you will soon see that I mean them. But still, I will wait", she answered, her hands dropping now to his.

"These words must not be spoken lightly", he warned her in a more serious tone.

She peered deep into his eyes. "I know."

Daenerys let go of his hands then, and took a step back. "Thank you, Thranduil", she told him, smiling. "Thank you for letting me reach you at last. Our separation has been a constant pain in my heart", she whispered.

"The pain has been too great for me as well. But it is lesser now. I will sleep in peace tonight", he said, looking at her lovingly.

"So will I, my love. So will I."