Chapter 20

The elves set up camp at a glen, far enough from the destroyed orc encampment for the smoke and stench of burnt flesh not to reach their noses and befoul the air they breathed. They had been traveling light, so no tents were erected. They sat in small companies, and guards were posted. After a time Rhaegal also came and landed at the edge of the camp. He perched on a large, flat rock, and laid his head upon his tail. He remained still and silent, only his bright eyes moving; he watched the elves, but his gaze always returned to his mother.

Daenerys had been carried by some warriors beneath a great willow tree, whose branches hung low and provided a little bit of privacy. Shivers shook her body every now and then, as the poison coursed through her veins, and she clung to Thranduil's dirty cloak. When the elves tried to remove it, so as to inspect the wound, she whispered weakly, "No. I need the King." And so someone went to fetch him.

Thranduil's thigh pained him terribly, as he now lay on the ground, and his son was beside him. "I should not have let you walk all this way", Legolas said self-reproachfully. "You have exerted yourself, and the wound has worsened." A healer was cleaning said wound, removing carefully the dead flesh and applying athelas liniment upon it. As she did this, she chanted various healing words, and the King slowly relaxed.

"My wound does not concern me. It will heal", he told Legolas, and then turned his eyes to the healer. "But how is Daenerys? Her wound needs much more attention than mine."

"Healers are tending to her, hîr vuin", replied the elleth. "We have brought all sorts of potions and healing herbs with us, and she will receive the best possible care."

"I hope it is enough…" he sighed. Then he turned his gaze back to the Prince. "Legolas", he began. "Tell me how you found us. This orc camp was unknown to us, as of yesterday."

The younger ellon looked into his father's eyes. "We were first made aware that something was off by the green dragon. He returned to the Halls at night without Daenerys, which was odd enough in itself. And he would not retreat to the chamber with his brothers. He kept crying and flapping his wings instead, as if he wanted us to understand something from his behavior. And when the night deepened and neither you nor her appeared, dark thoughts crept in my mind. After a brief meeting of the council, we decided to search for you. The dragon accompanied us as we departed, and during our journey he would fly here and there, investigating the area. It was his lead that we followed southeast, and discovered the orc camp. Was it instinct, intelligence, or something else, I cannot tell", Legolas concluded.

"It was his bond with his mother…" Thranduil murmured.

But then a soldier came hurriedly. "My lord Thranduil, lady Daenerys asks for you. She will not let the healers treat her."

"What? I will come at once."

The Elvenking dismissed his healer and then got to his feet, and, propping half his weight on a broken branch he used as staff, he followed the soldier. He took him to where she lay, skin pallid and perspired, and Thranduil dropped to his knees beside her. "Daenerys…" he whispered her name, and her eyelids fluttered.

"Thranduil… I am cold…"

"Bring some blankets, will you?" he barked at the elves.

Two of them scurried off to do their lord's bidding, but another said, "We wished to remove the filthy cloak, but she would not let us. She clung to it as if it was for dear life."

"She walked through the flames to set the orc camp alight… The fire took her clothing. That is why she will not let go of my cloak", he explained. Then he turned to the elleth, who was the healer. "Did you inspect her wound?" he asked in urgency, his brow creasing in worry.

"I fear we did not have the chance, my lord…" she stuttered.

Thranduil grunted in frustration, but Daenerys took his hand. He looked at her, and she managed a weak smile. "It is not their fault…" she murmured.

The elves then returned with the blankets. "Lay the blankets here and leave. The healer shall stay. Everyone else, go!" the Elvenking commanded, his voice coming harsher than he had intended, but his worry was too great for him to take the time and honey his tone and his words now.

The elves bowed and walked away. Then Thranduil bent upon Daenerys, his thumb lightly caressing her brow now. "Daenerys… it is alright now. You can let go of my cloak", he spoke softly, and his eyes were glazed over with unshed tears, for deep sorrow nestled in his heart, to see her so sick from the poison.

She gasped as she tried to turn, in order to free herself from the cloak. But the healer touched her gently, and told her, "My lady, you should not move. Let me remove this for you."

Thranduil took a blanket and draped it over Daenerys' naked form, as soon as the elleth had stripped the cloak away from her. He drew it to her chest, leaving the area of the wound free for inspection and treatment. The healer took to work then, and her beautiful voice filled the air with healing chants. Daenerys' breathing calmed, and some color returned to her face. And Thranduil's heart was soothed to see her improve. The elleth bathed the wound with fragrant herbal water, and in the end dressed it with a clean compress, which had been dipped in athelas salve. She felt her forehead then. "Her temperature is low, but it seems to be coming up. Perhaps a fire would help her?" she suggested.

A fire? Of course. She is fire made flesh. She draws her strength through heat and flames, Thranduil mused. "An excellent idea, Círwen. Go tell my people to light a fire for Daenerys. Tell them it is the King's order", he instructed her.

"At once, my lord", the healer said, and swiftly left.

He was now alone with Daenerys, their figures partially hidden behind the great trunk of the tree, and concealed by the drooping branches of the willow. A soft wind was blowing, and it made them dance and rustle. The scenery would have been idyllic, were the circumstances different.

He drew another blanket and covered her. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked her, his hand caressing her hair now, which was equally tangled and dirty as his.

"Yes… The pain has subsided somewhat, but I do not think I can move my arm", she told him.

"Hush now, you need not tire yourself."

Some elves came then and built a fire close to her. As soon as it was lit, the flames made her eyes shine. "This is much better", she whispered. She reached with her good hand to the dancing flames, intangible orange tongues licking her palm, and the heat made her feel alive again. "I have felt this since I was little…" she reflected, as her fingers played with the wisps of flame. "I had suspected it for a long time… until I hatched my dragons, when assumption became certainty", she told him in a low, calm voice. Thranduil observed her; she looked mesmerized by the sight of the fire, and her gaze was lost to distant memories. "I always liked the water of my bath to be scalding hot… My bedmaids could not stand touching it, but I felt revived inside it", she went on in the same manner. "I should have known. Rhaegar was not the last dragon." But the sudden remembrance of her brother reminded her of his namesake, and she asked, "Rhaegal… where is he? I heard him earlier, when he flew down to save us."

"He is here, resting at the edge of the camp. He watches over you, I think", Thranduil told her.

"I am so relieved he is not harmed", she sighed. "When I called for him and he would not answer, I feared for the worst…"

He shook his head. "But nothing of the sort happened. Legolas told me he never abandoned you, and it was him who found you. The bond you share… it is so strong, Daenerys."

"It is unbreakable", she finished for him.

She closed her eyes then and fell silent for a long while. Thranduil thought she might have fallen asleep, so he adjusted his position to be more comfortable, and lay down next to her. He touched her hand, and it was warmer than before. This is a good sign, he thought. She must get warm, but not feverish. He also felt the soothing effect of the fire by his feet, which eased the fatigue off his limbs. Her fingers then twined with his, and her indigo eyes fluttered open. "We are safe…" she whispered.

"Yes… We were lucky the orcs did not take us straight to Dol Guldur. Then our rescue would have been a much harder endeavor."

He reached forth then and dropped a feathery kiss on her brow. She sighed and snuggled against his chest. "This war you say is coming… I do not think it will be long now", she muttered.

"No… The orcs have grown too bold, and the Nazgûl too powerful, which can only signify that Sauron's own power has grown. He gathers all manner of evil creatures to him, and fortifies his strongholds. And the men of Gondor, who once stood vigil over Mordor, are now weak and broken, flailing under the questionable rule of Denethor, the Steward of the Throne", Thranduil said grimly.

"Steward? Is there no King?" Daenerys wondered.

"The line of Kings was thought to be broken… But the rightful heir lives, only he is reluctant in his path", he replied.

Reluctant. I know what that means, she mused. How to take up the mantle and with it assume all the heavy responsibilities that accompany the crown? I would never presume to be Queen, were my brothers still alive. But now I am the rightful heir, as this man of Gondor Thranduil mentioned. But he might come into his own one day, whilst I never will.

"If the throne is restored, will the evil in Mordor be kept under control?" she asked.

"Men will rally to their King. The strength of Gondor will be renewed, and united all the free peoples shall stand against the Shadow", he replied.

"And is this man, this heir, a noble one?"

"Little have I known him, but I know that a nobler man there is not", he answered without hesitation. Then he looked into her eyes and smiled softly. "He is like Beren, from the old legend. And he has his own Lúthien to love…"

She raised her face a little. "He loves an elf?" The Elvenking nodded, his small smile never fading. "Then we are not the only ones…" She found she liked the idea that the reluctant heir of mortal Kings loved an immortal elleth; it filled her heart with hope that her own love for Thranduil could withstand the test of time and will. And he was possibly thinking the same, for his eyes shone as he looked at her.

But then a soldier approached. "My lord King", he called. "My lady", he added hastily. "We have prepared a stew. Do you wish to be served?"

The King sat up. "We are famished, my good elf. Of course we wish to be served."

The soldier then bowed deeply and left. Soon two large bowls were given to them, accompanied by slices of bread and pieces of cheese. They consumed their food with great appetite, and though it was naught but a humble vegetable soup, to them it tasted delicious.

A little later Legolas came and sat beside them. Thranduil was leaning against the tree-trunk, and Daenerys lay on her good side, safely tucked into her blankets. Their faces looked calm, and neither seemed to be in great discomfort. "My lord father", he started. "I am glad you have regained your strength. But the healers insist that your wounds need to be examined and cleaned again", he said, glancing at Daenerys as well.

"Very well. You may send them here, Legolas", the Elvenking said.

"One more thing." His father gave him a side-glance. "Everyone is wondering why you keep so close to her", Legolas said in a low, guarded tone.

A frown caused Thranduil's countenance to darken, and he looked away. Daenerys' eyes danced from father to son, but she chose not to speak. "Tell my people they should be less curious and more effective in what they are supposed to do", he grumbled.

"Adar, it was only a question. You need not get defensive", Legolas said.

"Daenerys saved the both of us. For the second time. And she was wounded by a poisoned arrow. There is no place else for me to be but by her side", the King stated.

There was truth in his words, and yet when the Prince saw the way Daenerys looked to his father, and how he leaned close to her, he suspected that the answer was not so simple. Has he perchance grown fond of her? Can it be that the rumors in the palace are credible? But he spoke nothing of his thoughts. "I shall fetch the healers", he muttered, and walked away.

As soon as he was gone, Daenerys' hand found Thranduil's, who still seemed to be in an ill mood. "I think your son was not satisfied by your answer", she murmured.

"Yes… I saw suspicion in his eyes. But the relationship between us is none of his business, or anyone's business", he told her.

"But they will know, sooner or later", she pointed out.

"My personal life will be far less interesting, when there will be a war to contend with", he said, the frown never leaving his face. "But you should not concern yourself with such things now. What you have to do is rest, and let your wound heal. Poison takes time to leave the body completely."

She shifted slightly, and at once her shoulder ached. "Yes, I can tell as much. My whole arm hurts with every move, and I can still only barely move my fingers."

At that moment the healers arrived. One went to the King, and the other to Daenerys, and their wounds were treated with athelas once again. Daenerys saw Thranduil's wound just above his knee, where his breeches were torn. "Can you walk with this wound, my lord?" she worried.

"It gives me a limp, but I manage. The elves can resist poison, Daenerys", he explained.

The healer wrapped his leg in fresh bandages, and the other did the same for Daenerys' shoulder and gave her a sling for her arm. Before they left they gave them flasks of athelas potion to have by their side and drink, whenever they felt faint or in pain. By now the sun had begun to wane, and its warmth dissipated. Thranduil called for his soldiers to stir up their fire again, and a while later they were served bread and cheese again. Legolas came and shared dinner with them, and after he had made sure that his father was alright, he retired for the night. The King gave orders for guards to be posted, and for none to disturb him during the night, unless it was an absolute emergency.

Soon silence shrouded the camp, as the night descended. A few fires were lit, and only the sound of the crackling wood was to be heard. Every now and then a light breeze would cause the long boughs of the willow tree to rustle, and the shrill chirping of the crickets filled the night. But the chill in the air was now palpable, for, even though the sunny days were still warm and reminiscent of summer, the autumn nights heralded the coming of winter.

Daenerys drew her blankets tight around her body. Beside her Thranduil had also taken a blanket, to chase the chill of the night away. "Are you warm enough?" he murmured softly, his hand caressing her hair.

"I am trying to be", she admitted. "Nights have grown cold. Winter is coming once again."

"Yes… It has nearly been a year since I found you", he reflected. "It was a crisp autumn day when you appeared on my path."

"And what a long way we have come since then… My dragons were babies, and now they are grown, burning down enemies with their breath. And we…" she gazed at him. His eyes were silver at that hour, reflecting the pale moonlight that shone through the drooping willow branches. His otherworldly beauty made her shiver with awe and desire for him.

"We have found much in each other", he completed her thought. "My heart yearns for you, Daenerys, and now I would not have wanted it any other way.

His fingers snuck behind her head, and held her as his face lowered upon hers. Their lips met with longing, and his radiant spirit engulfed her whole being, making her tingle in that familiar way she tingled when his energy surged through her. Desperately she wished then to touch him, but she was leaning on her good arm, and the other was bound and numb. But Thranduil helped her ease on her back, and her arm was free to embrace him, as he lowered himself upon her, careful to keep his weight off of her. Their kiss deepened and grew in need, and her hand traveled along his back, creeping beneath his loosened tunic and making contact with his skin. He moaned then softly, but it was a sound only for her ears, for he was careful to be quiet. "Thranduil…" she whispered his name reverentially.

"Daenerys…" He cradled her head, but as he was about to speak on, a loud roar was heard from high up in the sky. Alarmed he broke apart from her, and the elves in the camp were roused as well and jumped to their feet. But Daenerys only smiled, and turned her gaze to where Rhaegal flew down from above and landed not far from his mother.

"Thranduil, help me up", she requested. He did that, and with some difficulty Daenerys rose to her feet, while holding the blanket snug about her shoulders. She then walked to the dragon, whilst leaning on Thranduil, who in turn propped half his weight on the makeshift staff.

"Everyone go back to sleep", the King shouted. "There is no cause for alarm."

As they approached Rhaegal, he turned his large head and fixed his clever eyes on the pair. He made a sound deep in his throat, and he blinked twice, lowering his head for his mother to reach him. She gazed at him with fondness, and her fingers touched his nose. "My child…" she whispered, lightly stroking him. "Have you hunted well? Are you sated?"

He blinked again and snorted, and Daenerys smiled. But then the dragon craned his neck towards Thranduil, and he produced that same low, rumbling sound again. The King was standing beside Daenerys, supporting her, and she held him when he made to step back. "No, Thranduil, do not be afraid. He will not harm you. He wishes to know you. Touch him, like I do", she prompted him.

"Touch him?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes. Give me your hand."

She took his hand and guided it towards the dragon's snout. She felt his fingers trembling beneath hers. "Do not be afraid", she repeated softly, and looked at him briefly so as to encourage him. He was apprehensive, but fought against his fear. "Rhaegal is your friend, not your enemy", she said, and the green dragon watched Thranduil as his hand hovered in front of his great jaws. Then his fingertips made contact with the hard, scaly skin of the winged serpent, and the Elvenking let out a long-held breath. Rhaegal allowed him to touch him for a few fleeting moments, and then he turned and crawled away, to find a place to sleep.

Thranduil stood breathless and mesmerized. "I touched him…" he uttered in awe.

Daenerys smiled. "He has taken a liking to you from the beginning on. It was easier to touch him when he was a hatchling, right? He was so small and harmless then. Now he is grown, and his jaws are deadly. But he still likes you, and he still lets you touch him."

"But… how can it be? You are his mother. I am no one to him", Thranduil wondered.

"He trusts you. For centuries, only those with the blood of Old Valyria could get familiar with dragons. To everyone else, such an endeavor held great peril. But Rhaegal has sensed something in you..." her voice trailed off in thought.

"What is that?"

She shook her head. "I do not know."

Thranduil sighed. "Let us go back to the tree… You need to lie down and rest."

And so they did, and soon enough they were safely tucked under the warm blankets. The fire flickered by their feet, and soon Daenerys relaxed in Thranduil's arms. She looked at him through half-lidded eyes and said, "You were kissing me before Rhaegal came."

He gave her a half-grin. "Indeed." He bent then and claimed her lips in a searing kiss, holding her close to him, but careful not to touch her injured shoulder. She kissed him back, allowing the kiss to cure her from all her worries and her fears. When she was with Thranduil she cared not for the world around them. His lips and his embrace were all that existed for her, and his voice was all the music she ever wished to listen to. With her good hand she drew him closer still, pressing herself against him. His hand slid to the small of her back, and then followed the curve of her spine, up and down. She shuddered when his fingers touched her naked skin, and he found that she was warm to the touch, her temperature having at last returned to normal. The memory of her walking naked through the flames came then vivid in his mind, as his kiss deepened, and desire awoke in his loins.

"You are a goddess of fire…" he whispered to her, his hand now traveling along the length of her thigh.

"I am not a goddess", she breathed, her nails digging into his arm.

"I worship you nonetheless."

He bent then and trailed kisses down the white column of her throat, and she threw her head back, closing her eyes. When his hand skimmed over a taut breast she shivered, her nipples standing to attention. Soon his hand closed upon it, causing her to gasp in delight. She writhed beneath him, and he felt himself harden against her thigh. But as he pressed against her, realization dawned on her. "No, no… Thranduil, stop. What are we doing?"

He removed himself from her so as to look at her, and then he realized she was right. Trying to contain his sexual frustration, he sat up and breathed the crisp night air deeply. "I got carried away", he admitted. "I find myself unable to resist you, when you are so close… Please forgive me."

She propped herself on her good elbow. "Forgive you? There is nothing to forgive", she said gently and touched his hand. "I want to lie with you as much as you want to lie with me. But this is not the time and the place… Besides, our wounds would give us trouble. I can barely embrace you, one-armed as I am now."

He turned to her with a small smile and cupped her cheek. "We shall wait for your wound to heal." He then drew her in his arms, his presence enveloping her protectively.

She drank from his strength, and after a while broke free of his embrace. "I think you should return to your son", she told him quietly.

"You would have me leave you now?"

"It is only proper that you sleep… elsewhere", she replied.

"I cannot leave you alone", he protested.

"I have Rhaegal", she said with a smile.

Thranduil huffed. He did not like the idea of parting from her in the black of night. "And what if you need anything? What if your wound pains you?"

"I have this flask of athelas… But I will be fine, Thranduil. And you will be only a few meters away. There is no need for you to worry", she reassured him.

Unwillingly, he grasped the staff and rose to his feet. "Are you certain about this?

She smiled. "I am."

He nodded. "Good night, then… May you rest well."

"And you, my love."