[Ten Years Later]
Zillaryn moved slowly through the trees, her feet never making a sound as they fell onto the soft dirt. Her bow was tight in her hands as she scanned the trees, looking for any sign of movement. All of her muscles tensed as she moved from behind the tree to sprint across the clearing so she could—
"Three."
Zillaryn froze, her shoulders slumping forward as she whipped around, "Oh, come on!"
It took several more seconds of scanning the surrounding area until something caught the setting sun's light. She could see the golden tip barely sticking out from one of the taller bushes, but she could feel the arrogant smirk from the warrior who aimed the arrow at her.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Zillaryn sighed and looped her bow across her back while a deep chuckle met her ears as Thranduil walked around the bushes, "Three years in a row, are you kidding me?!"
Thranduil's chuckle turned into boisterous laughter as he placed his bow across his body while he sauntered towards her, "You are becoming predictable, meleth nin (my Love)."
"Maybe you're just finally improving enough," Zillaryn smirked as Thranduil wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, "You can compete in my league now."
"That must be it," Thranduil smiled as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips,
Zillaryn hummed as his grip tightened on her waist while he tipped her head backward and deepened the kiss.
Thranduil laced his fingers with hers when they finally separated and smiled, "Come, meleth nin (my love). We must make camp before we lose the sun entirely."
Ten years.
Ten years since Rahnshell.
Ten years since, two broken hearts twisted and fused into one indestructible force that could weather any storm. Now, as she leaned up against a tree and watched the one that her soul called for as he cooked their dinner, she couldn't help but reflect on the last decade of her life.
She had settled back into life in Greenwood faster than she expected; of course, it helped that she was welcomed with open arms everywhere she visited. She had begun to assist Alistair and Legolas in training new guards, her specialty being swords, training several of the more skilled soldiers to dual wield the blades. When she wasn't training, she loved spending time with her horse and riding through the forest.
She was always willing to help wherever she was needed, whether helping garden the medicinal herbs outside the healing halls or baking loaves of bread in the kitchens; the people were always happy to see her. Happy to see how she had impacted her King. She had brought back light in him that some hadn't seen in thousands of years.
They had both stored their weapons against the cave wall and now relaxed in simple tunics and leggings, having even removed their boots to enjoy the warm summer air and the heat from the fire. They ate in comfortable silence in the cave that once saved their lives from the harsh winter so long ago. Now they peacefully listened to the sounds of the forest at night, leaves rustling in the wind, and the not-so-distant sound of the river that had once terrified her, and she smiled.
This was always her favorite of all the things she's done in the last ten years. Their yearly tradition, a week in the woods where they had a rematch of their challenge that, sparked the flames of the love that now consumed them.
The week that marked the night of that reconciliation in the darkness of her Tavern.
Their anniversary.
The challenge had always stated that only the winner gets to choose a prize, but it had slowly changed into them exchanging small gifts over the years. But this wasn't an ordinary anniversary, and the gifts that would be exchanged were not ordinary.
"So?"
Zillaryn was pulled from her thoughts to find Thranduil watching her, "So, what?"
Thranduil put down his finished bowl of stew, "What would you have chosen for your prize?"
Zillaryn chuckled as she finished her last bite and then set the empty dish on top of his own, "I get to ride Polodrea (Strong One) on our next trip to Rahnshell."
Thranduil smiled and took her hand, pulling her to her feet and walking toward the cave entrance, "Perhaps that can be arranged."
"What of you maethor nin (my warrior)?" Zillaryn shot him a side glance, "What prize will you claim?"
They stopped at the mouth of the cave; Thranduil stood in front of her, taking both of her hands into his and pulling her out further from the cave, "What I want," He pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist, hers falling lightly on his chest. His other hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head up to meet his gaze, a piercing blue in the summer darkness, "is to make love to you under the stars."
Zillaryn smiled and walked backward, unbuttoning her tunic with each step until it lay open. The material covered her breasts but left her stomach and the valley between her breasts exposed for his viewing pleasure. And he was viewing. She lowered herself to the ground until she lay in the long grass, "Claim your prize, Aran nin (my King)."
She heard a low growl from his throat as he stalked forward, a predator waiting to attack his prey. As he moved, he pulled his tunic over his head before stopping in front of her, teasingly untying his leggings and taking a frustratingly long time to pull them off. He relished the lust-filled gaze he stared at the beauty before him, her breasts already heaving as she pressed her thighs together.
As he pulled out the string holding up his leggings and rolled them down his muscular legs, tossing them to the side. Entirely bare before her, he finally joined her in the long grass. His knee slid between his legs, forcing her to spread open for him, welcoming him.
He leaned down slowly, pressing a kiss in the valley between her breasts, and she smiled. He slid his hands along her sides, relishing the tremor that raced through her until his arms gripped her shoulders. His warm breath danced across her skin as he looked up at her, "You're wearing far too many clothes, meleth nin (my love)."
His hands slid the tunic down her arms, kissing a trail across her collarbones as he did so; when his fingers curled around her leggings and pulled them down, she moaned as his thumb accidentally ran across her bundle of nerves. His hands ran back up the outside of her thighs as his other leg slid between her legs, and he could already see how aroused she was to be here with him. He slid into her as one of his hands lifted her thigh to wrap around his waist.
They made love for hours in the grass; the night was filled with their moans and cries of passion. A symphony of love dedicated to the stars they lay underneath.
Thranduil trudged behind Zillaryn, trusting her not to lead him astray. After breakfast, she promptly blindfolded him and told him she had a surprise. Now they'd been walking for what seemed like hours until he felt her abruptly stop.
"Open your eyes," She said from behind him as he felt the blindfold being removed. She walked back around in front of him, taking his hands. Once he felt the soft pressure of her hands, they stood at the edge of a small outcropping that overlooked a vast clearing below; around them was a smaller meadow still nestled within one of the most beautiful parts of the woods. He looked down at her as she smiled, "I love you so much, Thranduil. I wake up every day with you by my side and whisper a grateful prayer to the Valar for having blessed me with such a perfect ellon. I knew that I wanted to do something special for you to celebrate our first ten years together. So, two years ago, I started devising a plan."
She stepped to stand next to him, tucking her hands into her trouser pockets, "After searching a lot of places, I found it," she gestured to the edge of the outcropping.
Thranduil took a few steps forward, looking over the edge and seeing… nothing. It was just an outcropping looking over the clearing. "It's a beautiful spot, meleth nin (my love), but what—"
He froze the moment he turned around.
The meadow they were in was quaint and beautiful; the long grass reminded him of the night they shared just hours ago. The meadow was surrounded by tall trees full of leaves as they danced in the light summer breeze that moved through them. But that wasn't what had taken Thranduil's breath away.
That wasn't what caused tears to build in his eyes as he looked beyond where his true love stood.
Behind Zillaryn, tucked into the first row of trees, there was just enough shade from the summer sun that blazed down on them now…
"A cottage…"
The small structure had beautiful, dark cedar wood that made up the outside with a heavy door that lay open, inviting them in. Bewildered, Thranduil looked back to Zillaryn.
Zillaryn fiddled with the string over her trousers. She was nervous, hoping this surprise, "I've spoken with Legolas and your council, and I've spoken with Legolas and your council," she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. He still stared at the cottage, a dream brought to reality.
At this, Thranduil looked down at her and arched an eyebrow. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I know we can't have the dream of living in a cottage all the time. Sitting on the outcropping while does teach their fawns how to walk in the springtime," she gestured behind him, the reason that she had positioned Thranduil facing that direction. Another part of his dream was realized.
Her eyes were glistening with love as her skin glowed in the summer sun as she looked up at him, "It was agreed upon that one week a month, we'll spend it here. You, me, and a little sliver of that simple life."
Thranduil raised his eyebrow further, and she rolled her eyes, "Fine… The newly instated Duag Mor Vagol (Soldiers of the Black Blade) will be stationed five miles out and will remain invisible the entirety of the time."
Thranduil chuckled as a sob slipped from his lips. He still found words difficult to grasp, so Zillaryn squeezed his hand, "Do you want to see inside?"
He only mutely nodded, and she led him toward the cottage. Their cottage.
Small rocks had been laid leading up the door, and stones of all different colors and sizes evened out to make a cobblestone mosaic. Colorful flowers of all types had been carefully planted along either side of the path. Climbing ivy had already begun to crawl up one side of the cottage; it must've been the first thing planted.
The first step inside was all Thranduil needed for fresh tears to fall. The entire cottage was no bigger than his suite of rooms back in his Halls, but it was more welcoming than anything he had ever seen.
A small counter to the left of the door made up the kitchen; little shelves mounted on the wall above a small oven, and another small counter in the center, likely for additional room to cook. Beyond that was a simple sitting area with a small hearth for fires during the colder months. To his right was a washroom complete with a tub that was, clearly, large enough for two. At the far end was another closed door which he could only assume was the bedroom. He would definitely examine that room closely with her later.
He stepped further into the cottage, and Zillaryn followed, stepping toward the small counter in the kitchen, leaning her back against it, and watching Thranduil look at their new space.
Their new safe haven.
"I know there isn't any furniture yet," Zillaryn meekly shrugged, looking around at the empty cottage and back to him, meeting his gaze, "I wanted you to have some say in how it's decorated. I thought we could visit some of the woodworkers in—"
He was on her in two strides, his lips capturing hers in a passionate kiss. He pressed her back against the counter, his hips pressing forward and holding her in place as his hands cupped the side of her face. She excitedly returned the kiss as her hands fisted into his tunic.
"This cannot be real," he whispered against her lips, forehead pressed close to hers, "I know that I will wake up in that same cold bed, and all of this will have been a dream."
Zillaryn brought her hands to his cheeks and wiped his tears away, "This is not a dream, my love." She kissed him softly, "This is not a dream."
Thranduil pulled away from grabbing her hand and pulling her to the center of their barren sitting room. "I didn't know when the right time would be. But now…" He mumbled to himself as she looked at him, confused, "I am fluent in ten different languages… As a King, it is essential to know what is being said at all times around me… I… I speak ten languages," Thranduil took a deep breath as his bottom lip quivered, "and when I look at you, there are no words to convey the depth of my love for you. You set my soul ablaze; you bring out a passion in me that I never knew existed. Whenever you are not at my side, I crave you… I feel like I can't take a full breath until you're in the same room as me again."
It was Zillaryn's turn to lose her breath as Thranduil sank to one knee and pulled a delicate ring from his pocket. The stone was the deepest shade of blue that she had ever seen, tiny flecks of gold and silver catching the light, causing the stone to shimmer. The gold band that held the stone twisted and looped in ways reminiscent of Thranduil's grand crown. Tears stung the back of her eyes, and she tried to blink them away but failed, "I had my jeweler make this ring as a promise and a reminder of the moment I knew I loved you." Zillaryn furrowed her brow. Thranduil only gripped her hip tighter, trying to stop himself from trembling as he continued, "I knew I loved you the night of our first kiss. I laid my head on your lap, your nails lulling me to sleep as they ran through my hair. Before drifting off to sleep that night, the two last things I saw were your face and the stars shining behind you."
Zillaryn glanced down at the ring again; she knew it looked familiar. Starlight, the ring looked like starlight, "I promise to bring you happiness every day. I will protect you against anything that would mean you harm… I would do whatever you would ask of me if—" A soft sob cut through his voice briefly, "I will do whatever you ask of me if— If I can ask only one thing from you."
Zillaryn took a shuddering breath as Thranduil raised the ring slightly higher, "Zillaryn Vonondiel, will you marry me?"
She dropped to her knees, threw her arms around his neck, and whispered, "Yes."
Thranduil's grip tightened around her as he fully exhaled for the first time since seeing their little cottage. They separated just far enough for Thranduil to slip the finger onto her ring and kissed her deeply. When they untangled again, she mumbled something against his lips.
Thranduil tilted his head, "What, meleth nin (my Love)?"
"I still have another present to give you," Zillaryn sighed and stood back up, pulling him with her, so they were both standing.
Thranduil shook his head, "Zila… You shouldn't have gotten—"
"I know," she interrupted with a chuckle and pulled him towards the closed bedroom door, "I know, but this one was..."
She opened the bedroom door and led him into the room. There was a simple bed large enough for both of them with extra room to spare, and next to the room—
"Zillaryn…" Thranduil gasped and turned to look at her. She had a guarded smile and silently nodded her head.
He stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, "You're sure?"
"Yes," Zillaryn whispered, a hand drifting to hold her stomach and moving to sit next to her love and now, soon-to-be husband, "The healers confirmed before we left."
Thranduil ran his hand over the small bassinet, intricately carved in a way that resembled his crown. He glanced down at the ring on her hand that rested on his leg. They were truly cut from the same cloth; even in secret, they seemed to think the same.
"Are you happy?"
Her soft question took him off guard, and his head snapped to her slightly concerned eyes,
"Meleth nin (my Love)," Thranduil breathed, his hand moving under hers across her stomach, " promise you that there is no happier ellon in all of Arda. If this is a dream… If I am lying unconscious in the healing halls right now, I never want to wake up. Because this," his fingers flexed across her stomach as he held her gaze, "This… Is a dream worth keeping."
Within the cottage, they cried and laughed together. They made love and sat at the outcropping edge, a herd of deer lazily grazing, the young fawns wobbly chasing after each other. Thranduil wrapped his arm around Zillaryn's shoulder and pulled her closer. Pulled them closer. He heard her breathing even out and a soft chuckle escaped him; she had fallen asleep.
He kissed her forehead and rested his chin on top of her head; looking out over his kingdom as the sun set in the chuckled again, this time at himself as the realization struck. For the first time in thousands of years, Thranduil Oropherion, Elvenking of the Woodland Realm, the greatest warrior to walk Arda, felt truly and wholly at peace.
~FIN~
