Chapter 24

They were roused by voices sounding from below. Cries and angered shouts and threats mingled with weeping and wailing. Thranduil darted out of the bed like an arrow, his keen elven ears having caught the noise at once. When Daenerys opened her eyes, he was already half-dressed and in a hurry.

"What is going on?" she asked in confusion.

"Something ill has happened. Can you not hear the shouts and sobs? I am going down right away", he replied.

Her brow furrowed. "Wait, perhaps it is dangerous…"

"I am armed." He finished dressing, draped hastily his cloak about him, grabbed his twin swords and fled.

He was met with commotion when he reached the ground. A group of Woodmen had arrived, three men and two women, and they were the ones causing all the noise. The men were shouting and threatening the elves, who were trying to contain them, and the women were weeping uncontrollably. Celegon was there, and he was trying to make himself heard over the ruckus. "My good people, please calm down and tell us what is going on!" he pleaded, raising his arms.

A tall, square man with a ruddy face and matted brown hair raised an axe. "He took our herds!"

"Burned the field, he did!" added another, shorter and fairer than the first one, and his blond beard reached to his chest, and a hat covered his unruly hair.

"Our goats, our goats!" cried a plump woman. "What will I feed my children now?"

"Silence!"

Thranduil's voice boomed, deep and resonant, and at once all sets of eyes turned to him, and all mouths were shut. "What is this upheaval in the middle of the night? Must your complaints be voiced ere the sun rises?" he demanded in a tone that made the Woodmen recoil, and the tall one lowered his axe.

"Goheno nin, Aran nín", Celegon rushed to apologize. "Your rest should have never been disturbed. But these Woodmen here came from the East Bight not an hour ago, and since then they would not be pacified, unless they spoke their piece", he explained.

The Elvenking strove to contain his irritation. "Let them speak their piece then." Taking a step forth, he turned to the Woodmen and asked, "Who is the leader amongst you?"

"I am, my lord King", said the tall man with the axe and walked forward. "Alger the Strong they call me", he introduced himself, and in the last moment remembered to bow before Thranduil.

"Well, Alger, say what you will, for this commotion disturbs me. It befits not an elven village but an orc camp", he said dryly, his steely gaze trained on the man.

Alger the Strong stood to his height and cleared his throat. "A beast came from the skies and devastated our herds and fields with roars and fire. Black as the night he was, and, had I not known better, I would call him a dragon."

"Aye, a dragon!" agreed the blond man.

A chill crept up Thranduil's spine. Alger's description fit Drogon perfectly, and there could be little room for dispute. "When did this happen?" he inquired.

"At around dusk, my lord. And afterwards we rode here at all haste to meet you, for the elves had informed us days ago of your impending visit. You are a wise and ancient King. Perhaps you know what the beast responsible for our plight is?" Alger asked.

The Elvenking tied his hands behind his back to hide their nervous clenching. These people were free, and not his subjects, but he had given them leave to hunt in his woods, and they were friendly with the elves that lived around the shores of the Celduin. He needed their alliance for the coming war, and a disturbance to their welfare upset him.

"I do", a female voice called, before the Elvenking had any chance of replying.

They looked to the direction of the voice, and saw a young white-haired woman with striking violet eyes standing on the staircase that wound about the great tree. "You were not mistaken. It was a dragon that desolated your fields", she spoke in as much a steady voice as she could muster. Thranduil glanced at her with a frown, concern written all over his face, for he deeply misliked how things had turned out.

"A dragon? And how do you know that, my lady? Dragons are dead, and the last of them was Smaug of Erebor", Alger countered.

"And who may you be, woman?" the blond man asked.

She looked at the men and took a deep breath. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. I am not of your world, but found myself here by means of magic that were not of my making. And the dragon is mine. There may not be winged dragons in this world, but there are in mine. I will accept the blame for the ruin he caused you, but I must tell you it was not intentional, or born out of malice. He was hunting, and did not know you for allies."

Murmurs of fear and worry followed Daenerys' words. Her resolve threatened to break. A terrible event had occurred, and the explanation was no less outlandish. How were these people to be pacified?

Then the Elvenking raised his hand and the crowd fell silent. "I understand your bewilderment. And I do not expect of you to understand. But I can promise you this: your losses will be paid in double. The Woodland Realm will provide you with grain, animals and coin to rebuild what was destroyed."

"So, you are saying it is true, then? It was a dragon we saw?" Alger asked, astonished.

"Yes. Daenerys is in possession of three young dragons. They will be a weapon in the war against Sauron, but they need training. They have no quarrel with you. What happened today was a horrible accident", Thranduil explained.

"Three dragons? So there are more of those beasts?" shouted the blond man angrily.

Daenerys looked at him, despair threatening to overwhelm her. But she was robbed of a chance to reply, as a woman cried, "But he could have killed our children!"

She turned her attention to the woman and managed to remain calm. "But he did not", she stated pointedly. "He is not evil. He meant only to feed, and not to cause you harm intentionally", she repeated, feeling her heart beating wildly, for she was not sure she sounded persuasive to those Woodmen. "I apologize again, for he flew out of my sight and control, and I should have restrained him. It will not happen again", she vowed.

"You have the King's word that Daenerys speaks true", Thranduil stated in a clear voice, wishing to hush the last murmurs of disbelief.

"I know not of other worlds and their terrors, and I care not to know of them. But one thing I know: I never again want to see this beast terrorizing my people. I accept your apology, woman, for the Elvenking testifies to the truth of your words. And I accept the payment, for it is just and fair", said Alger, frowning.

Celegon intervened then. "Come, my friend Alger, and I will offer you our fabled cider to calm your anger", he said appeasingly, wishing to end this tumult. "And you may stay here tonight. We have rooms for you and your people. Surely you do not wish to ride back through the night?"

The man grunted. "Very well. In honor of our friendship, I accept."

"Then this issue is over. There is no argument between our peoples, Alger. Accept the King's apology, and forget this incident", said Thranduil, inclining his head slightly and placing his hand on his chest.

"I accept it." He said that grudgingly, but he was not as stupid as to make an enemy of the Elvenking.

He and his people were led away then by Celegon, and Thranduil walked to Daenerys, where she stood frozen upon the staircase. Her brow trembled, her gaze was unfocused, and her lips were drawn into a thin line. His hand went to her elbow. "Come, Daenerys. Up the stairs. We must talk."

Mechanically she turned and followed him to his room. As soon as they were behind closed doors, he took her to sit on the edge of the bed, and he sat beside her. "Why did that happen?" he began in a low tone.

She shrugged. "What answer can I give you? Drogon flies wherever he wishes, and hunts freely."

"But he should not have harassed those people. The Woodmen are an ancient strain of Edain, they are our allies."

"He could not have known that."

"You left him unchecked all day long. You should have been more attentive", he reprimanded her.

She turned to him with fury written all over her features. "He is a dragon! Not a child. Do you think I am not upset by what happened tonight? I am very upset indeed! But what could I have done? Drogon is free. He is not a slave to answer to a master's whip."

Thranduil stood and paced around irritably. "Your dragons grow fast, and they cannot be allowed to slip out of control. Today it was a field and some goats, but tomorrow might be a man or an elf, or, even worse, a child. The repercussions will be terrible, and all the blame reflects on me, for I house the dragons in my Halls."

"Is that what concerns you? That you may be the recipient of angry accusations?" she spat.

"You should understand that, since you fashion yourself a Queen", he retorted coldly.

Daenerys narrowed her eyes at him. "I see now that you seek to insult me, speaking to me in such a derogatory manner. I am a Queen, the rightful heir to my father's throne", she hissed, "but unfortunately I am trapped here and with no means of escape." She stood up, balling her fists at her sides. "I am sorry for what Drogon did. But I will not apologize for allowing him his freedom."

At that she turned and stormed out of the room, and Thranduil did not attempt to stop her.

The morning came with wind and rain, and the snow of the previous days that covered the ground now melted away. Thranduil rose early, for he had an appointment with Celegon. Today he was to visit the neighboring elven villages of the Celduin, and Celegon was to accompany him. His mood was foul, however, and he would have skipped the tour to the villages, if he could. Still, he was bound by duty, and in a hooded cloak he rode through the rainfall.

The weather had not improved when in the afternoon he returned. He glanced about the village, as he passed the reins of Celairdir to his servant, but there was no sign of Daenerys or her dragon. Alarmed, he hurried up to the tavern of the inn. There he found Rosswen preparing some tea.

"My lord King", she said as she saw him. "Can I treat you to some tea? It is hot and fragrant."

"Thank you, Rosswen, but perhaps later. Have you perchance seen the lady Daenerys?" he inquired.

She gave him a thorough look. He was dripping wet from head to toe, clearly had not a moment's rest since his return, and still he seemed to be in a rush. "Are you worried about yesterday's events, my lord? The men left in peace earlier today, I assure you. My cider did calm their nerves after all", she chuckled. But Thranduil watched her with waning patience. "Daenerys had a meagre breakfast here and then said she would be off to the woods. That is all I know", she stated, hands on hips. "Why she should wish to walk in the woods in such a bleak and cold day I cannot tell…" she murmured, returning her attention to her tea.

Why indeed. The Elvenking lost no time but rushed down the stairs and made for the stables. His servant was surprised to see him again so soon, since he had only left Celairdir to rest less than half an hour ago. But he was not one to object to his King's wishes, and he readied the elk right away. Thranduil rode off into the woods, and searched the area around the village for two long hours, calling her name several times. But no answer came, and worry started to seep into his heart. What has befallen her? Has she, perhaps, in her agitation taken off?

But a loud roar from the direction of the river gave him the answer he was seeking. At once he turned west and rode until he was out of the dense woods, and he halted as he saw her. There she was, sitting atop a large rock, and Drogon was perched beside her, his large head in her lap, and she was stroking his horns. The unforgiving rainfall had her cloak and hair soaking wet; still, she did not seem to mind. But as the dragon saw the elf approaching, he raised his neck and snorted a puff of black smoke. Daenerys turned her violet gaze and beheld Thranduil as he sat astride his mount, water dripping from his long hair, and agony mixed with relief was drawn on his face. Her angry heart softened at the sight of the one she loved, but she did not allow the change to show on her countenance.

"Daenerys!" he called from afar. He dismounted and tethered the elk to a tree. But as he made to step closer, Drogon jumped off of his mother's arms and lunged forth, roaring menacingly, jaws parted and sharp teeth glistening.

The Elvenking recoiled and froze where he stood. "I am not here to quarrel", he said carefully in High Valyrian, hoping that the beast might understand him, his eyes trained warily on the dragon's glowing ones.

Daenerys rose to her feet and patted her child's long neck. "It is alright, Drogon." The serpent snorted and returned to his seat upon the rock. Then she looked at Thranduil. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice coming out harsher than she had wished.

He was taken aback momentarily, but soon a frown descended upon his brow. "What I want? You were gone all day long. I was worried."

She turned her back to him and sat down again beside her dragon. "But I have been here all along."

"How could I have known? You left no message", he protested, daring now to walk closer to the rock.

"What need had I for messages? Did you not tell me yesterday that I must be more attentive of my dragons? Here I am, and this is what I am doing", she told him with a hint of bitterness in her tone.

He huffed, for he could clearly see that she was still vexed by their argument the previous night. "Can we talk?" he required.

"We are talking", she replied, feigning calmness.

But his ire was rising. "Will you at least do me the honor of looking at me when we talk?" he grumbled. And he took another step forward.

But then Drogon roared again, jutting his jaws forward from the edge of the rock. Thranduil stepped back but the ground was slippery and fell to one knee, and he brought his hand up before his face. The beast's eyes were glowing like hot embers, and bright fire burned deep in his throat, threatening to be released. The Elvenking gasped and held his breath, and in that moment he saw death looming over him, and prepared himself for the dragonfire, just like once, so long ago.

"Drogon!" Daenerys shouted angrily at the black dragon, and he snapped at her, roaring mightily into her face. But she stood unflinchingly, until the roaring ceased and he closed his jaws. "Listen to me! You will not harm my friends!"

But the dragon snorted in discontent, and flapped his wings. With one leap he was off the rock and took to the sky. Daenerys watched him with a frown, as his shape was lost in the clouds.

"He has grown wilder", Thranduil muttered, rising to his feet, and his heart returning to its proper place.

Daenerys glanced at him, and then climbed off the rock and made for the riverbank. He followed her. "Wait, Daenerys, wait." She halted and looked at him. "You are upset", he observed.

"I am", she admitted. "The dragons have grown rebellious, it seems."

"You fear you may lose control of them?" he asked her tentatively, standing now in front of her.

She looked into his eyes for a moment. "I do not know", she sighed. "A dragon can never be tamed, but he can be trained. The Targaryens bred and rode their dragons for centuries… But what do I know of it? I have no experience, and no one to guide me. It is possible that I am making mistakes in their upbringing. I do not know the right way to train a dragon", she confessed. "I am their mother, and they would never harm me; this I know. But they do not listen to me sometimes, and now Drogon showed such rebellious behavior…" her voice trailed off. "He has never defied me like that before. He has never roared into my face before."

She was sad and perturbed, Thranduil could tell. He searched her gaze, and when she would not look up, he gently touched her chin. His touch, though cold and wet under the battering rain, made her eyelids flutter and sent a shiver down her spine. "I trust you", he told her.

"But I do not trust myself now", she responded, and lowered her eyes, turning from his touch. "What if I lose control of the dragons?"

His palm went to her shoulder. "If that ever comes to pass – and I do not believe it will – we shall find a way to face it together", he tried to soothe her.

"At least Rhaegal and Viserion are in their chamber, and not roaming free now", she muttered in the same bleak mood. "Who knows what they might do in my absence…"

"Daenerys", he lightly shook her. "Do not let your thoughts darken needlessly. What happened yesterday with the Woodmen's herds was an accident", he reminded her in a steady voice.

"Yes… Drogon was hunting, and it was only prey he saw. There had never been an issue before, when he hunted in the woods, but now that we are close to men's villages…" she sighed again.

"Tomorrow we shall be back to my Halls. We must put this behind us, and focus on the future", Thranduil said.

She looked at him with eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "I do not want anyone to be hurt because of me."

He could not but take her in his arms then, and she clung to him, burying her face in his throat. He touched her wet hair and pushed it from her forehead, where he dropped a kiss.

"And Drogon almost attacked you..." she said in a muffled voice.

"He did not. You did not let him."

"He roared, and I saw him ready to breathe fire… What if I was not there?"

"Daenerys." He held her from the shoulders. "This way of thinking leads us nowhere, and it does not help you. Can you not see? It only serves to bring you despair."

She took a deep breath. "You do not know how it is… How it is to be responsible for three dragons. They are magnificent, and my heart's pride, but they have grown dangerous, too dangerous…"

"I may not know of dragons, but I know of children. The dragons are adolescents now, did you not tell me so? All adolescents tend to be rebellious… Give them time. Perhaps their unruliness will subside", he told her with a small smile of hope.

She held his gaze for a while. "Maybe you are right…"

"All I know is that desperation never helps. You must be strong. And you are strong, Daenerys. I know it. I have seen you." He caressed her cheek tenderly. "Bringing up a child is challenging enough. All the more a dragon…"

"I thought I was up to the task", she muttered.

"You are. Do not let an unfortunate event dishearten you. A Queen must always keep her calm and her resolve, for the people look to her for courage and guidance", he told her.

She gave him a wary glance. "Last night you mocked me for calling myself a Queen", she reminded him.

He sighed. "It was unworthy of me, and spoken in anger. I am sorry for the words I said. Will you forgive me?"

"You were upset…"

"I was. But you were not to blame for anything, no less than I was. I wanted you for myself all day long, and I had forgotten about the dragon", he said.

She shook her head. "I appreciate your notion, but the blame is not to be shared. You have nothing to do with the dragons. They are mine, and the responsibility is mine alone", she insisted.

"As long as they dwell in my Halls, and their mother too, they are my responsibility as well", he argued. And when she tried to object, he placed a gentle finger on her lips to silence her. "Hush, hush… no more talk of blame. I am very tired, and I would not spend my evening crying over spilt milk. No one was harmed, the Woodmen were paid their losses twice their worth, and that is the end of it." He took her hand in his then. "I would rather spend my evening sheltered from this endless rainfall, drinking Rosswen's fabled cider and enjoying your kisses in the warmth of my room. What do you say?"

She peered deep into his eyes, and finally nodded. But as he made to turn and lead her away from the river, she pulled him to her and kissed him hungrily, pouring into her kiss all her tension of the day. "I say I cannot wait for the cider and the room", she spoke breathlessly. And she kissed him again.

He gave into her, a victim of her passion, as her lips devoured his insatiably, and soon answered with his own ardor. She felt then a sudden surge of energy washing over her, and all unhappy thoughts were banished from her mind. He held her tightly, realizing just now how much he had missed her. He spared a moment to look at her, and whispered, "I hate to quarrel with you. All I wish to do is hold you and kiss you and love you."

"Kiss me then, and love me".

Their drenched clothes clung to their bodies precariously, revealing curves and prominences underneath. Her eyes were on him, traveling down the length of his body, lingering on the most tempting spots. She remembered, when she first realized she desired this man – this ellon – how she had wondered about how he might look without his clothes. Would his anatomy be like the male anatomy she knew? Or would it be… different? The discovery, when it came to pass, had not betrayed her hopes.

The Elvenking then closed the short distance between them and took her in his arms, his front now pressed flush against hers. His lips descended upon hers, and his tongue demanded entrance. It was granted. Under the pouring rain he sought her skin beneath her clothes, unlacing her vest and lifting her tunic, until his hands found her breasts. Her skin was clammy from the dampness of her clothes, but he did not care. Her nipples responded to his fondling, and she moaned against his mouth. Never breaking the kiss, he led her to a nearby tree, and pressed her back against its trunk, while his hands slid down her hips and rumpled the gown, pulling the hem upwards. She gasped and moaned, and reached for the laces of his breeches. She found him ready and throbbing, and he grasped her bottom and lifted her from the ground, prompting her to hook her legs around his hips as he held her. She did, and he entered her in one swift thrust. She gasped and clenched around him, for her pleasure was now mixed with the pain of his sudden intrusion. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her body tensed. He sensed her guarded state, and he halted. "Daenerys?" he whispered her name in concern.

"I am fine", she assured him, and ground her pelvis against his, urging him to move. He did, and in just a few minutes she was driven over the edge, and her panting pushed him to meet his own release with her name of his lips like a profane prayer.

He allowed her feet to touch the ground then, but they remained tightly embraced and unwilling to part from each other. They both felt calmer now, and the worries of the day seemed to disappear when they were in each other's arms. But night had fallen already, and, although they had paid it no heed before, now Thranduil realized it was past time they returned to the village. "We must go back…" he murmured in her ear.

"Yes."

They laced their clothes and made themselves modest again, and then he took her to his elk. As he helped her mount, Daenerys glanced around; there was no sign of Drogon. I hope he will listen to me. I hope he causes no more troubles, she inwardly wished. Then Thranduil was behind her, his presence enveloping her, protecting her, and she allowed herself to relax, as they rode back through the rain.